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Tia arrived at great speed. With Tia this didn’t always mean urgency. Most things arrived the same way.
She was the dog from the cottage past the lighthouse, long-legged, with ears that moved independently of each other. They appeared to be consulting separate committees.
“There is something in the cliff,” she said, and turned immediately to lead the way, because she was already quite confident he would come.
She was right. He followed.
The crack was beyond the headland, further along than Prince Freddie usually went. The cliff face met the shore at a complicated angle. The rock had split over a long time into a fissure about the width of a medium-sized dog. Tia went through it sideways, efficiently. Freddie turned sideways and went through. His crown tilted against the rock. He emerged into the dim space beyond.
It was a chamber. A high ceiling, wet walls that caught the light from a gap above, smooth dark stone. In the centre, a pool of water, connected to the sea by a submerged passage that Freddie could smell even before he saw it. The air was completely still. The sound from outside (the waves, the wind, the usual business of the coast) had gone.
On the far edge of the pool was a flat ledge of rock above the waterline. A seal pup lay there with its head on its flippers. It looked at them with the expression of someone waiting longer than expected.
Freddie went still. He put his nose down to the stone floor, then to the air above the pool, then to the damp edge of the passage. The scent of the open sea on its coat. And underneath it, milk.
“It has been fed,” Freddie said. “Not long ago.” He sat back on the stone. “Its mother is out fishing. This is where she leaves it.”
“What do we do?” Tia said.
“Nothing,” Freddie said. “It is exactly where it is supposed to be.”
Tia’s ears consulted their separate committees about this.
“You,” Freddie said, “go up the cliff path to where you can see the water beyond the headland. Watch for a dark head in the swell. When you see her, come back.”
Tia was already turning. “And you?”
“I stay here,” Freddie said.
She went back through the crack. Freddie heard her footsteps across the rock, quick and receding, and then nothing.
He sat down on the dry stone floor, a comfortable distance from the pup, and looked at it. It looked at him. Its eyes were dark and very round.
The chamber held still. A column of grey-white light from the gap above. Freddie could hear the movement of water in the passage below the pool.
The pup made a small sound. Not distress. Something more like comment.
“I know,” Freddie said.
Time passed.
Tia came back at speed, slightly out of breath.
“She is out past the rocks,” she said. “Coming this way.”
“Good,” Freddie said.
The pup lifted its head. It had known before either of them.
The pup moved to the edge of the ledge, slid into the pool, and was through the passage. A disturbance in the water. Then nothing.
Tia looked at the empty ledge.
“That’s it?” she said.
“That’s it,” Freddie said.
They came back through the crack. The light and sound of the coast came at once after the quiet.
“I found a good place,” Tia said.
“You did,” Freddie said.
They walked back along the base of the cliff together, the long way. The evening was good and neither was in a hurry. At the point where their routes divided, Tia peeled off toward the lighthouse. Her speed started before she had fully committed to the direction. This was simply how she moved through the world.
Freddie went to the cottage. He came through the garden gate and went inside.
His human had made bread. The kitchen was warm with it.
Freddie ate his supper and went to the bed. His legs were tired.
He circled once, twice, three times. Then he lay down onto his chest, front paws forward. His tail rested against the back of his human’s knee.
Along the coast, the cliff face opened onto a chamber. The tide breathed in and out. The ledge above the pool was empty, and would not be empty long.
The End
Rest well, Prince Freddie. In the cliff, the cave breathes in and out with the tide. The ledge is dry and quiet.
The long, slow telling of this story lives in The Settle, the Companion feed, built to be slept through rather than listened to: https://stories.princefreddie.com/subscribe. This version stays free, always.
The Settle is this same story, told slower, longer, made for falling asleep to rather than following.
One subscription. No streaks, no ads, no catch. Press play, and let the day settle.
The atmosphere in this is so quietly tense, that image of Freddie sitting alone in the cave with just a column of grey light and the sound of water moving below is genuinely haunting 🌊