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Sea Maiden Jen

19 February 2012
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They had different names for her – Jenny Bluescale, Jenny Coralweed, Sea Maiden Jen – but I only found this out after. She told me of the plan just once. “A red agate ring, one that’s never touched water. You press the ring into a marble-sized lump of clay from a murderer’s grave. Then cast the lump at the full moon’s reflection from our beach.  At dawn, you use ruby-quartz lenses to search for the fish that ate the clay and ring.  It will be red and will have a key in its mouth. If you are pure of heart, the water won’t hurt you…”

Before she could tell me the rest, something squeaked at the window. At the time, I didn’t know if it was a sales pitch or a confession that had been cut short as she thrust some things into her pocket and hurried unsteadily into the night. I looked for her on the beach the next day but never did see her again. Though I didn’t stray into the water, because, well, you know, you can never be sure about these things.

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