The Mermaid's Mirror

The Mermaid's Mirror - By L. K. Madigan


PROLOGUE

Lena woke up on the beach.

She knew she should feel afraid—sleepwalking to the beach in the middle of the night could not be a sane thing to do—but the salt scent and roar of the ocean calmed her. The moon shone down on the waves, making them glitter like thousands of tiny lights flickering just beneath the surface, rolling over and over.

Lena stood on the wet sand, searching for landmarks. About a hundred yards away, the craggy finger of Shipwreck Rocks jutted into the sea.

Somewhere out in the darkness, the foghorn crooned its faithful call. The familiar sound reassured Lena. A few miles away, the lighthouse flashed its beacon.

Wrapping her arms around herself to keep from shivering, Lena looked down at her clothes. She was wearing her pajamas, but she must have put on her hoodie in her sleep. She was barefoot, which made sense. She never wore shoes on the beach.

She turned and followed her footprints back along the moonlit stretch of sand. The crash of the surf sounded much louder in the dark. How did I walk all this way without waking up? And what time is it? She quickened her pace. If her parents woke up and found her missing, they would freak out.

Her footprints disappeared in the dry sand, but by then Lena was close to her usual path. She found her sandals near the base of the cliff, apparently kicked off and waiting for her return, just like always. She slid them on and made her way up the path to the parking lot, long sea grasses whispering against her legs.

At the edge of the parking lot, Lena turned back for one last look at the ocean. It rolled and glittered, vast and inscrutable. Lena turned away and headed home.

***

The mermaid woke from a dream of humans. She was surprised to find herself adrift in a restless sea, with no memory of leaving home. Before turning to go, she raised her head above the surface and gazed at the empty shore.