THE SEA BREEZE – #flashfictionmagic
The seaward corner of the cabin creaked, and Mari’s gaze snapped toward the door, the tiny window, all the weak spots.
Was the sea breeze blowing again already? She should have another three hours. Three hours to mend her nets, make fish head stew, perhaps have a nap.
Before the wary vigil began again.
Father had left her this cottage, built with his own hands and magicked with his own blood. The only problem with relying on magic from a former Mer? The sea breeze snuffed it out every time it rose.
Leaving her unprotected against the creatures of Lutha Isle.
She’d been here alone—was it seven years now—and the breeze had been predictable. It died at the first sign of dusk, when the monsters first began to hunt. Many times she’d heard them snuffling and growing in the trees outside, finding remnants of her scent but unable to trace it to the cabin because of the magic shield.
When the breeze rose at dawn, the magic died.
Another creak sounded, this one on the front porch.
Silently, Mari stood, gripping her wickedly sharp fishing trident. The cabin was tiny, only a few yards from the door at any time, and she couldn’t help but imagine a hulking beast smashing the door down and snatching her with a claw in one swoop.
Her hands, damp from washing fish, made the trident slick. Her breaths hurt in her throat.
And then: a knock at the door.
Mari remained frozen for so long she thought she’d imagined it.
Then it came again, stronger, more insistent.
Lutha’s creatures did not knock.
Somehow she got to the door and I did the latch one handed, the trident tall beside her.
On the porch, his hair long and green and his statuesque face startled, stood a Mer.
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