Far Horizons: Tales of Sci-Fi, Fantasy and Horror. Issue #19 October 2015 | Page 58

Brandon was a good sailor, though he didn’t
think he was half as good as his grandfather had been
in his prime. Captain James Elias Honeycutt was a
name known throughout the English Channel, and he
was a great influence on Brandon as a child.

like a woman’s voice. I must be half in dream, he concluded in his thoughts.

Grandfather James would tell him about the
endless ocean and all its infinite mysterious beauty.
He’d tell Brandon about how, in his travels as a naval
captain, he’d run into pirates, unknown territories with
savage natives, and if he was very lucky, he’d see a
mermaid or two. Of course, Brandon didn’t believe
all his stories, especially about the mermaids, but his
grandfather’s words stuck inside him nonetheless,
sprouting the seed of adventure in his young mind.
As Brandon grew into adulthood, he couldn’t
wait to join the Navy. Unfortunately, his beginning
days as an officer were anything but fun. His own
captain was a harsh, by-the-book sort of man named
Vonger who took delight in making James do unnecessary chores. Most often, Brandon washed the deck
and tended to the maintenance of the ship. It was a
learning experience, though, and gave him a sense of
duty and responsibility. It just wasn’t quite what he’d
had in mind as a young boy.

“Do you hear her as well?” asked the old man
behind him. It was Gardener John, as they all called
him due to his younger days spent as a duke’s head
gardener. Coming out of the shadows, Gardener John
added, “It’s the siren-ghost again, it is. She must be
hungry.”
“What? A hungry siren? Don’t be absurd,
John,” scoffed Brandon. “It’s probably a whale or
dolphin - one of those creatures, no doubt. Nothing
undead or strange, to be sure.”
Gardener John squinted his grey eyes and
sneered. “I’ve seen her, my boy. You can doubt all ye
like, but I’ve seen the siren with me own eyes. She’s
a beauty too. But that’s where she gets you. She lulls
you with her voice, and then drags you to the bottom.
It’s the sailor’s curse.”
Brandon looked at the old man for a moment
and then heartily laughed. “You’ve been drinking too
much wine and rum, Old Man. Go back to your sleeping quarters, and get some shut-eye.”

If it weren’t for the quiet night-time of third
watch when he would often be scheduled, he would
have gone a bit mad with boredom. However, when all
was silent on the sea, the only thing anyone could hear
was the whispering hum of the slow, steady waves,
and Brandon found himself feeling calm and at peace.
One such night, in the wee hours of early
morning, he heard a sound unlike anything he’d heard
before. It didn’t sound like the breaking of water, nor
the chirping of a bird; it was altogether different in
its timbre and style. Listening closely, he surmised it
sounded much like a woman’s voice. He had no idea
what could be causing such a tone, however. No such
sea animal makes quite that sound, thought Brandon
as he leaned over the railing to get a better look.
Nothing. Nothing but the moon’s glow upon
waves of ocean for mile after mile. “Strange,” he
muttered to himself in the darkness. It really did sound

“I’m telling ya the truth, kid. But alright,
choose not to believe an old man who’s seen much
more in his day than your short time at sea. Just don’t
get too close to the water… or the siren-ghost will take
ya!”
Laughing with his golden-brown hair blowing
in the breeze, Brandon nodded and said, “Goodnight,
Gardner John. Tell the dream faeries I say hello.”
With that, the old man left to the deck below,
leaving Brandon alone for the remainder of his watch.
He didn’t mind being alone. It gave him time to think
about his life and future. He couldn’t imagine being
a seaman his whole life, yet he hoped he’d see many
exciting new lands and people before settling down
with a wife and family. As he slowly paced the deck,
he took out a small whistle from his pocket and blew
on it, creating a high-pitched tone.

58