Jane still would not tell me about the song she had been singing in the storm, or why she had sung it, although from time to time we would hear her singing it again, when she was alone in the cabin. She had a lovely voice, but her singing made me uneasy. The crew did not like it either. Teddy had known these men since he was a boy, and they spoke freely with him if not with me. Teddy would tell me the things they whispered to each other, how they thought her singing was responsible for our favorable winds and unseasonably fine weather, but also how her singing was attracting things.
“What sorts of things?” I asked. Teddy shrugged.
“White shapes in the water. Long and immense, but never close enough to the surface to be seen clearly,” he replied. “They come up to the ship when she sings,
