Prologue

20 years earlier …

"F-I-S-H"

"And what does that spell?"

The child squinted at the page, trying to make out what the strange letters could possibly mean. He knew a few animals of course.

"Dog!"

"What?" The man chuckled kindly, and set his fishing pole down to hang over the side of the boat.

Its bait bobbed calmly on the ocean surface, but no catch was biting just yet. It was a clear sunny day, with only the faintest tufts of clouds blocking the otherwise cerulean sky. The midday sun shone high over head, warming the top's of the sailor's hair and making the sides of the little boat hot to touch. The ocean below sparkled as it sloshed about lazily, rolling over the sides of the little dinghy the people were sat in.

The adult man wobbled a little going across the deck, but was soon squished up next to his son, picture book being held at each end by one of them.

"Look here Skiff, spell it out differently – look there's even a picture to help you!"

His finger pointed to a neon coloured goldfish on the adjacent page. It was emitting several bubbles from its amber lips as it swam above an impressive sunken pirate ship.

Skiff knew what that was of course, he'd seen oh so many of these creatures. In fact, he was pretty sure that's what they were searching for in the waters today. Then they'd take a few home and his mother would make a pie or something delicious like that. The child's mouth watered at the mere thought of pie, but he was still quite a way out into the ocean, pie-less, but with his picture book in hand.

"C'mon champ. f-i-s-h. What does that say?"

"F ... fish!"

"Well done!" His father gave an excited little clap "Clever boy! That's what ol' Finn's catching out here" He nodded towards the still bobbing bait and sighed. "Unfortunately the numbers of fish seem to go down each year..."

For a moment he sounded lost in thought, wondering how much he could say in front of his son, who was not old enough to grasp the concept of economy. The two of them lived in a small village called Brigodston, famous for its variety of marine life. Its ocean had a thriving eco system, and any fish caught were of some of the highest quality in the entire country, so sales were high and in demand. The Eastport's had been a fishing family for generations; each and every one knew their way around a fishing rod like a blacksmith knew his tools. To them, fishing was a noble art. Finn's father had sat him in a boat and taught him to fish, and one day Finn wanted to teach his own little Skiff to fish. Hopefully one day Skiff would be sitting in a boat too, teaching his own children to fish. But there had been a concerning drop in the amount of catch caught recently. A few years ago Finn could bring back as much as 60 fish in a day if the weather was right. The numbers had been declining. Now he considered an honest day's work to be 20-30 fish. There was no sign of disease or acidity in the water, or any new predators. Perhaps it had just been a bad breeding season. Whatever the reason, Finn's income had dropped. They still had enough to buy the basics, and the occasional pounds saved over for a rainy day or a treat for Skiff. But times were cruel, and Finn had heard rumours about new technologies and bigger boats that could catch as many as 20000 fish in a single day. That kind of thing could seriously put him and his family's business at risk. Finn refused to see the day he'd stop fishing the Brigodston way. Even so, the lack of catch was worrying. He pushed these thoughts to the back of his mind and tried to concentrate on his son again.

"Now, we like fish don't we?" Finn smiled, pointing back at the goldfish. Skiff nodded obediently, his turquoise eyes shimmering.

"Tasty pie!" Skiff clamoured, pleased to remember.

"That's right!" Finn grinned approvingly "We like mommy's fish pie!"

"Fish! Fish! Fish!"

"Mhmn!" Finn was pleased with his enthusiasm, but Skiff was becoming a little carried away, bouncing in his seat and waving his arms about.

"Fish!" The child made stabbing movements just behind his father.

The man turned, and saw what had caused such excitement in his son. The bait had gone under. There was a fish on the end. Finn's own eyes lit up in childish excitement, like a puppy that'd just been offered a treat. He leapt across the deck, swinging the boat and causing Skiff to emit a little 'whee', before grabbing a firm hold of the line. Without even seeing the fish he could already feel the sheer weight. The rod bent with a little effort, and the fisherman began frantically trying to bring it to surface.

Skiff watched, fascinated. To him, his father was a hero - a man worthy of awe. Watching him reel in this fish was an absolute honour in the child's eyes.

Finn struggled for a good few minutes with the reel, until, with one final strain, the thing holding the end breeched free from the water. Finn stumbled, tripped over a lobster cage, and fell off the side of the boat.

If he hadn't, perhaps he would have seen what his son saw in that moment. What came off the end of the line was, from tail to waist, a dolphin. That was more than impressive enough. If any fisherman but an Eastport said they caught a dolphin with a fishing rod, you'd laugh in his face. But what was more impressive was what Skiff saw from the waist up. It was a woman. A woman itself of course, wasn't that impressive, Skiff had seen many. His own mother was one. But this woman was attached to the dolphin tail. There was only one creature that Skiff knew that looked like that, and he didn't even need a picture book to tell him what. He gripped the sides of his father's boat, staring in amazement.

Finn was clambering back onto his boat, a little sodden, but otherwise ok.

"Mermaid!" Skiff yelled, pointing to where the creature's tail could be seen diving back into the ocean.

Finn blinked, and then laughed a great booming laugh that shook the sides of his little dinghy.

"That was a genuine dolphin son! Look at the flat tail!"

But Skiff shook his head. He may have been only 5, but he knew a mermaid when he saw one.

"Nu-uh! Mermaid! She had yellow hair!"

His father shook his head in bemusement, and ruffled Skiff's chocolate tresses fondly. His rod had snapped, so there could be no more fishing that day, he'd have to return to land.

"Enough tales for today Skiff, aren't you excited that you saw a dolphin? I haven't seen many around here" He scratched his chin thoughtfully "I wonder if that's what's been eating the fish"

"I promise it was a mermaid!" Skiff pouted, wondering why his father didn't seem as excited. Finn had often told him bedtime stories about great kingdoms under the waves, full of fish-people. Skiff loved them, and now he'd seen one! This was the discovery of a lifetime. Surely the village would love it too. Skiff began to burble on about the sighting.

Finn merely nodded his head as he began to row back, his shirt sticking to him with sea water. Mermaids were a cute enough sailors tale. If Skiff truly thought he'd seen a fish woman this story was going to be adored by the townsfolk, who'd always had a soft spot for the cute little boy and his wild imagination.

Skiff had long abandoned his book; he was staring down into the blue below. Below the surface, just for a moment - he saw a flash of blonde and silver. It was enough. He beamed. It didn't matter what his dad said, or what the villagers thought were little child's fantaises later on in the village. Skiff Eastport-Pram knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that merfolk were truly real after all. Better yet, he'd seen one.