They led her outside, to a late summer sky streaked with mauve, pink, and lavender hues of a glorious sunset. As the salinescent of the sea wafted on the soft breeze, Elfi followed Himinglæva and Kólga to the edge of the shore, where the remainingGallizenaewere now gathered as mermaids in the turquoise waters of the sheltered cove, their aquatic hair, sparkling eyes, and shimmery tailfins reflecting all the vibrant colors of the sea. Amidst the gentle waves of the inlet, they had formed a circle, as if to perform a sacred ritual. While Elfi watched in wide-eyed wonder, Himinglæva and Kólga removed their gowns, stored them in a wooden chest near the entrance to the cottage, and shifted into mermaids, gliding out to join their seven sisters.
At the sight of all ninesjóvættir— long hair whipped by the salty wind, gleaming tailfins billowing in the waves, mermaid eyes aglow with preternatural vision—Elfi’s heart raced, her limbs quivering with nearly unbearable anticipation.
“We shall now evoke your latent magic,sjósongr. The song of the sea.”Himinglæva extended a hand, beckoning Elfi. “Shed your clothing, shift into a mermaid, and swim to us.”
Elfi carefully wrapped hertrollkorsamulet, three-tiered necklace, andÚlfbladdagger in itsdragonscalesheath inside her dark blue gown. She laid the precious parcel on top of the oak trunk near the sealskin door of the hut, crossing the beach to immerse her feet in the gentle waves which lapped at the soft white sand.
With her toes touching the crystal waters of the sheltered cove, she drew the essence of the sea into hersjóvættirsoul.
And shifted into mermaid form.
Her light brown human hair, streaked with golden blonde, was now the deep jade of ocean jasper, flecked with seafoam green. Shimmery scales of pale turquoise, rich emerald, and dark lapis lazuli blue—the same trio of gems as her bridal necklace—glistened like jewels in the gloaming.
The last rays of the setting sun setBlóðughadda’sblood red hair aflame. “Swim to the center of the circle, daughter of Dúva.So that we may awaken yoursjóvættirmagic.”
Heart aflutter like the wispy tendrils of her tailfin floating in the foamy waves, Elfi obeyed.
Chapter 24
Le Chant des Sirènes
“WeGallizenaemay assume the form of humans, as you have already seen. But we may also shift into any sea creature, from the largest whale to the tiniest fish.” Hefring’s lavender hair and amethyst eyes mirrored the mauve hues of the sunset sky.
“Or theMélusines. Our warrior form.”The reverberations in Kólga’s velvety voice resonated inro Elfi’s bones. “Two hundred foot long sea dragons, capable of sinking any ship.”
“Once we activate yoursjóvættirmagic withle Chant des Sirènes—the Sirens’ Song—you will be able to summon theGallizenae. Or call for the aid of theMélusines.”Himinglæva began to chant, her melodic vocalizations reminding Elfi of thevardlokkurthat Úlvhild always sang for sacrifices and ceremonies to invoke the blessing of benevolent spirits. As the limpid notes ofle Chant des Sirènessoared like graceful seabirds over the rolling waves, the melodies of the other mermaids joined thesirens’ song, their ephemeral voices blending like fluid lutes, lyres, and flutes.
As the chant gained momentum, an enormous wave arose from the tide, cresting and curling, the mermaids’ song summoning the strength of the sea. An eerie, evanescent light glowed within the swelling surge, which rose to the height of the craggy cliff high above the mermaids’ heads. The mammoth wave peaked and crashed upon Elfi, the thunderous cascade inundating herlike the roaring waters of the waterfall cave.
When the force of the wave flooded her body, a sizzling jolt of energy shot through her, from the top of her human head to the tip of her mermaid tail.
Thoroughly drenched, with rivulets of sea water dripping from her blue green hair, Elfi reveled in a triumph far more exhilarating than the thrill of wielding herShadowbanesword. Tremendous power surged through her body, surpassing the human strength of her shieldmaiden self.The magic of the sea now flows through my veins. My sjóvættir power has awakened.
“Withle Chant des Sirènes,you may summon theGallizenae. Simply touch the sea and call our name. As mermaids orMélusines, we will come at your command.” Bylgja’s bright eyes sparkled like the emerging stars shining in the twilit sky.
“If you need one of us—touch the water, call our name, and tell us where to come. To summon me, you would say, ‘Himinglæva, hear my siren’s song. Come to Elfi in the Mermaid Cove of Étretat.’ I shall hearle Chant des Sirènesand swim to the waterfall cave.” Moonlight cast an opalescent glow on Himinglæva’s silvery hair as she swam in the sheltered inlet.
“You can also summon theMélusineswith the sirens’ song.” Kólga’s blue black hair and sapphires eyes were a striking contrast against her alabaster skin. “Tomorrow, when we return from your training, I will share the vision I have foreseen. For you will need to summon us as sea dragons warriors.To attack enemy ships.”
Úlvhild predicted that I must accompany Njörd on the voyage to Ísland. Perhaps this is why. To summon the Mélusines to sink Frankish ships!
“We shall leave you now. There are dried chamomile blossoms in a woven basket on the shelf inside the cottage, if you would like to prepare atisane.In the green ceramic container, you’ll find ground barley to prepare a porridge to break your fast. And there are ripe blackberries on the shrubs just north of the cottage. We’ll return in the morning. Remember, you may call any one of us individually—or all nine of us together—withle Chant des Sirènes.”
As each mermaid swam forward to kiss her on both cheeks in a fond farewell, Elfi’s body still quavered from the awakening of hersjóvættirmagic. “Thank you for welcoming me to theÎle de Sein,” she stammered. “And for reviving my magic. I am thrilled to be able to shift into a mermaid. I cannot wait to continue training.”
“Tomorrow, we shall teach you to wield the power ofsjósongr.To summon the strength of the sea.” Blóðughadda’s blood red hair gleamed black in the darkening night sky. “Goodnight, Elfi. We shall return at sunrise. Sleep well, daughter of Dúva.Bonne nuit.”
Elfi watched theGallizenaedisappear into the dark depths of the secluded cove, tailfins glimmering in moonglow and starlight. When they were gone, she swam to the shore and rose out of the water, shifting into human form and wringing the salt water from her light brown hair. She fetched a swath of linen and dried off, wrapping her long locks in the cloth on top of her head. She donned her chemise and dark blue gown, pulling on her leather boots and fetching a pitcher from inside the cottage, which she filled in the stream. When she returned to the hut, she set the pitcher upon the table and crossed the room to the pile of timber stacked near the hearth. Placing a long thin piece of driftwood into the banked embers, she lit the candle on the bedside table, selected a small tin kettle from the wooden shelves, and poured some water from the pitcher to heat over the fire. Elfi lowered the sealskin to close the cottage door, securing the flap onto hooks driven into the earthen floor.
Among the willow baskets and ceramic jars lining the wooden shelves, she found the dried chamomile flowers, placed a spoonful into a pewter mug, and fetched her antler comb from the leather satchel she had left on the bed. While waiting for the water to boil for the herbaltisaneshe hoped would relax her still-jittery limbs, Elfi worked the tangles out of her tousled hair, plaiting it into a long braid down her back and securing it with a small leather thong. When the kettle was ready, she wrapped her hands in the linencloth, carefully pouring the steaming water over the crushed herbs and setting the kettle on a flat stone to cool upon the wooden shelf which served as a kitchen counter. Once the chamomile blossoms had sufficiently steeped, she strained the herbs with her spoon and settled down at the table to enjoy hertisane.
The sweet floral fragrance and mild fruity flavor of chamomile reminded Elfi of the apples which were abundant in Normandy and would soon be harvested for theHaustblótfestival to welcome herfaðirhome. She pictured Njörd, in his Viking longhouse in Étretat. She wondered if he, too, were gazing up at the stars, thinking of her.How proud he will be to see me as a mermaid. I cannot wait to show him!Elfi thought of her stubborn father, and how opposed he was to women wielding weapons or training like men. No wonder her mother had kept hersjóvættirpowers secret from him. Unlike Njörd, her father would not have understood.
I am grateful my mate is a shifter like me. His Úlfhéðnar blood comes from his father, a Völsung descendant of Odin. And I have inherited sjóvættir magic from my mother, a billow maiden daughter of Rán. Both Njörd and I share the blood—and magic—of the Nordic gods!
She sipped hertisane,tracing the intricate silver swirls and gleaminggildirstarstone in theÚlfbladdagger that Lugh had crafted which she had placed on the table beside her. At the top of the dark greendragonscalesheath,the trio of enchanted gems glittered in the incandescent light.The same stones as my bridal necklace. And the colors of my mermaid tail.
The chamomiletisanesoothed her twitching limbs, and Elfi yawned as weariness set in. On the morrow, she would ask theGallizenaeabout the impending voyage to Ísland, for she had come to theÎle de Seinnot only to learn how to wield her mother’s magic, but to seek knowledge from the otherworldly seeresses blessed with the divine gift ofsight.Perhaps they could reveal how Elfi would aid Njörd. And what the prophecy foretold he must accomplish once he reclaimed his father’s Dwarven sword.
