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On Desperate Seas
On Desperate Seas
On Desperate Seas
Ebook50 pages38 minutes

On Desperate Seas

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It all started with Penelope.

Or perhaps Jane, for Jane's letter sent Edgar on the first leg of his improbable journey.

The man Penelope wed in Edgar's place lies at the bottom of the sea, her heart with him. Bedridden, she vomits sea water and slowly drowns. She needs her heart back. But Jane lost something else, something more than her heart.

"On Desperate Seas", a novelette that follows a ship searching for the remains of the Sir John Franklin Expedition but finding something deadlier lurking beneath the Arctic Sea.

LanguageEnglish
Release dateApr 29, 2017
ISBN9781946552242
On Desperate Seas
Author

Kate Macleod

Dr. Kate MacLeod is an innovative inclusive educator, researcher, and author. She began her career as a high school special education teacher in New York City and now works as faculty in the college of education at the University of Maine Farmington and as an education consultant with Inclusive Schooling. She has spent 15 years studying inclusive practices and supporting school leaders and educators to feel prepared and inspired to include all learners.

Read more from Kate Macleod

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    Book preview

    On Desperate Seas - Kate Macleod

    On Desperate Seas

    ON DESPERATE SEAS

    KATE MACLEOD

    Ratatoskr Press

    CONTENTS

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    ON DESPERATE SEAS

    It all started with Penelope. Or perhaps really it was Jane, for it was Jane’s letter that sent me on the first leg of my improbable journey:

    "Dearest Edgar,

    Please come at once. Our beloved Penelope has fallen deathly ill."

    The letter went on, of course. In typical Jane fashion, she filled a page and a half with the various inadequacies of Dr. Mansley. Only Jane would argue the science at length without ever once considering I might not wish to abandon my own medical practice to return to Newfoundland for the sake of the woman who had broken our betrothal without warning to marry another.

    And yet here I was, at their very door.

    Jacob answered my knock. His look of shocked surprise told me that Jane had written to me without his knowledge. But the shock quickly melted into a teary gratitude. My extended hand was taken with gusto, and I was quickly led to a place by the fire, a glass of brandy pressed into my hands to warm me after my long walk from town in the cold night.

    Thank God you’ve come. What did Jane tell you? he asked as he sank into the chair opposite mine. He was much aged since I had seen him last; too much aged, with deep furrows of grief and worry marring a face I had always thought a jovial one.

    Very little, I allowed. Only that I am needed.

    More can wait until he has seen her, Jane said from the doorway. With no more greeting than that she took the brandy from me and led me up the stairs to where Penelope lay.

    I’ve been in many sick rooms, and there is a sameness to the smell: a closed-in, concentrated collection of odors, of bile and blood and other less pleasant things. Yet when Jane opened the door to Penelope’s room, it was the smell of the sea which assailed me.

    You’ve left her to sleep with the windows open? I demanded as I rushed inside.

    Come, Edgar, Jane said. Even if I had, we are not close enough to the sea to fill the room with the smells of high tide.

    I was still puzzling over this when the figure on the bed stirred. Edgar? Her voice, her sweet voice. A memory tried to wash over me: our last day together down on the beach between the rocks. The day... the day we...

    But I kept my head above water, so to speak. Jane showed me to

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