Later that night, the priest had kneeled by Aidea and pressed a rosary into her clenched hand. Aidea was huddled under sheets and blankets, sobbing pathetically and muttering things about the cold and the water. Malachy told them again of what he saw and this made Aideas mother cry harder,
''The Merrows have my daughter! The merrows have her soul!''
The priest muttered a prayer in Adas ear till she drifted off into a fitfull sleep. He reached into her hand for the rosary and found it to be covered in a cold wet film. Much like that covering a fish.
The sea maiden mourned for Aidea that night, clinging to the rocks in the bay as the waves roared in a tumult around her, she called to her, making the winds carry her songs into the night to search for her. She followed her into her dreams, consoling her in her thoughts until they longed for each other with a fierceness that matched the ongoing storm outside.
''I need the kiss.'' Aidea would cry out in delirium to MAlachy. ''It will cure me! MAke me warm again! Oh i am so cold...MAlachy. I am so very cold. I need her so.''
At these words Malachy would grip the edge of the table till his knuckles turn white. Gritting his teeth till they hurt in his head. Each night he would put on his coat and take down his rifle, head down to the bay and walk on the beach, gazing out into the rocks screaming for the maiden.
Knowing she was watching, knowing she could hear. Knowing she was in the rocks somewhere, behind the sharp edges peering out from beneath the cold, cold sea.
Each time he screamed for or at her, a torrent of goosebumps would spread across his body and a fear like no other would overwhelm him. He thought at times that he would have gone mad if it had not been for the bottle of rum he had taken to bringing with him on stormy nights.
Those nights when Ada would fall into screaming again from the cold she felt, those nights when the sea whipped about and he knew those were the nights when she would rise from the depths to call out to Ada, send the winds rushing into the village in search of her.
Then suddenly for months on end, the weather was fine again, no more violent storms, and Ada slowly got better.
They got married finally, in a beautiful ceremony in the city church, far from the sea town. But Ada never was the same, she never did get over the cold, and during rainy days she would stare absently out of the window and the water pouring down the panes, shivering with the racking cold of the dying.
It was as if the slightest frost drained her, and her youth was slowly draining from her...She sang songs to herself, made up excuses to was already spotless dishes just for the feel of water running through her fingers. And at supper would never touch the fish Malachy would bring for her from the market.
"But its your favorite, love." Malachy would urge her on.
"Aye," shed reply mournfully, "Twas, but now i cannah eat them tiny things...they be like babys of the sea."
And theyd exchange knowing looks that never failed to harden Malachy heart and he would make a show of eating her little babies of the sea just to spite her, as she picked at her vegetables and sipped her water quietly.
Eventually by the second dawn of their second spring, they had born a baby girl which they proudly named Siobhan after Malachys grandmother. Finally, Malachy thought happily, Ada would have something to occuppy her time.
Malachy worked in the fields and went to fish with the men some nights when they needed the extra money, and he was glad to think Ada would not be spending all her time staring out the windows or silently patching her quilts in dim candlelight, lost in the haze of thoughts.
He never felt alone on those nights at sea, and he always wished he was back on land, he felt vulnerable in the small boat in the middle of the black expanse of water. Sometimes hed hear and feel something bump agains the boat, catch a flash of silver in the water, hear a distance splash and this would freeze the marrow in his bones.
The other men would laugh and offer him a swig of rum, pat his back and shake their heads. Strangely enough whichever boat he was in held the most catch, the men would joke about the merrows being in love with him, sending them their fishes. Theyd laugh and slap their thighs.
But there were times when their nets would break from the bounty of their catch or throw some of the fish back for fear of sinking their small boat. Then the other men would dart questioning looks at Malachy while bringing in their meager nets.