The sound from heaven grows around me. I can now clearly see the large, black rock, shining wet, as if it has suddenly emerged from below. After I moor my canoe to the rock, I find it hard to stand; the sound is making me dizzy as it seems to be resounding from everything, or maybe I am the source of it? I can feel the air, the ground and the water vibrate.

I step onto the magnificent rock, only to fall back in my canoe at the shock of what is before me. I look again, and can still see the same extraordinary scene: six beautiful women dance in a circle, their naked white bodies glistening in the moonlight, almost blindingly. They move so slowly, their hands gracefully rising and falling in front of their bodies. Their eyes are deep black, their fingers abnormally long and thin. And then, to my shock, they all cry out in unison and I quickly push my hands over my ears as the sound forces me to my knees. Their mouths don’t seem to open, but I cannot trust my senses.

I suddenly realise that I’m kneeling in complete view, staring at the creatures. I dash behind some rocks and see a pile of sealskins lying on top of one another, and, without thinking, I grab one and roughly shove it into my anorak. As I kneel behind the rocks, I hear one of the women let out another high-pitched wail that sends shivers through the soles of my feet. Their soft, padded footsteps grow louder. I dive back into my canoe. One by one they put their skins back on and leap into the sea with a final cry. One woman remains, who anxiously searches under the crevices of the rocks I had hid behind. I step out to face her. She looks at me with her deep black eyes and I feel all the hair stand up on my neck and back, but I plant my feet firmly on the ground and take a sharp breath inward.

‘Be my wife.’

‘I am not from here. I am from temeqvanek, beneath. I am not like you. I cannot,’ she says, without moving her lips.

I present her skin in my open arms. Her black eyes widen and she leaps forward to grab it. I quickly hide it behind my back and she throws me fiercely to the ground. I am badly winded and let out a whimper. Her grip on my arms is inhumanly tight, and I feel my shoulders crack. I have trouble seeing. Her black eyes search around me as she hisses ferociusly. ‘I’ll give it back to you after seven summers,’ I croak, my hands desperately holding onto her pelt.

‘What is “seven summers”?’

‘It is a time...a short time,’ I manage to murmur. ‘After this, you are free to come or go as you please.’

She looks deep into my eyes-- an eternity passes-- then slowly lets me go. She hops off me and, to my surprise, steps into my canoe. I follow her, and almost forget myself, feeling the urge to wrap her naked body in her own pelt as it is bitterly cold. I instead wrap myself in her pelt. I expect to notice her shivering, but she sits on the opposite side of the canoe, perfectly still, her back straight, her webbed hands clasped together facing upwards, her inhuman black eyes reflecting the full moon.

As I row back, I am filled with an unfamiliar, yet, most welcome elation. She looks at me curiously, her eyes slowly dilating. She grows more and more human the closer we get to shore. She is the most beautiful creature I have ever seen. I smile at her. She tries to mimic my smile awkwardly. This is the happiest moment of my life.