by Janis Mackay
“Dad!” Tarkin yelled. “Dad!” and he jumped into the sea.
Magnus Fin heard the splash. In moments he was on his feet. He leapt over the rocks. In disbelief he stared at the blond head of Tarkin bobbing up and down in the water. “Dad!” Tarkin yelled again.
Magnus Fin bent his knees. He was ready to plunge in after him, when he saw Tarkin’s arms arch and scoop through the water. Tarkin was swimming!
Tarkin swam all the way to the yacht, which by now had dropped its anchor. A tall, sun-tanned man with long hair and a red scarf tied round his head urged him on. “Son,” the sailor called, his voice choked with emotion, “my son!” and he threw a rope ladder over the side.
Fin watched with a lump in his throat as Tarkin mounted the rope ladder, swung his legs over the rail and fell into his father’s arms. Fin wasn’t the only one watching. The whole party had run to the tideline and there they stood, waving and cheering.
Much later that evening, Carl, Tarkin’s father, sat by the fire telling everyone the story of his great Atlantic crossing: “You may think I’m a mighty strange one, believing in magic,” he said, looking around him at the attentive faces glowing in the firelight. “But I swear a mermaid guided me. She pulled me through storms. She set me on course. She guided me round rocks. And when it got lonely out there on the open sea, she sang to me.”
A tear glistened in Carl’s eye. He hugged his son, who was beaming uncontrollably, and nodded at the company. “It’s true,” he went on, “every bit of it.” Everyone around the bonfire smiled at the man who had crossed the Atlantic Ocean. They patted him on the arm. They shook his hand. But no one thought he was mighty strange.
Encouraged, Carl carried on, “I swear she brought me right here, right to my boy. I couldn’t have done it on my own.” Carl put his arm around Tarkin’s shoulder.
Later, as the sun went down, Tarkin, leaving his father talking with Ragnor and Barbara, wandered over to sit beside Magnus Fin. The two of them polished off the last of the chocolate cake.
When the cake was done they wandered onto the rocks. The North Star came out. Tarkin coughed, winked and, like a magician, stretched out his hand. Nestled in the palm of his hand something glinted.
“It’s true about the mermaid,” he said. “She found them. She said these pearls helped her find me, and now Mom can have them back. Can you believe it, Fin? She’s here! She found me. And she brought Dad all the way over here.”
Magnus Fin shook his head in amazement. After all their adventures, on the land and in the sea, this seemed the most remarkable of all. Magnus Fin watched as Tarkin carefully pocketed his mother’s pearls then turned to gaze out to sea. “She’s out there, Fin! See that white frothy wave?”
Fin nodded. Not far from where the yacht was anchored he could see a playful foaming wave.
“That’s her,” Tarkin said confidentially. Then he turned to Magnus Fin. “I told you, didn’t I, Fin? I always knew one day she’d find me. Dad too. I just knew it!” For a while the two friends were silent. The water lapped by the rocks.
On the beach the fire burned as darkness fell. Tarkin, with drooping eyes, sat beside his dad, tired now after the wonders of the day. His sleepy head lolled against his dad’s chest. The fire crackled.
Later the embers glowed as the sound of laughter and song turned to yelps. A few seals slithered from the dark cave and with a splash slipped into the sea. Ragnor stood at the water’s edge and waved to the departing selkies. The midsummer party was drawing to an end as Magnus Fin walked over the skerries and sat alone on the black rock. He played his penny whistle and watched as one by one the remaining seals returned to the sea. The moon had risen and its pale, almost ghostly light lit up a pile of shimmering sea clothes, discarded by the water’s edge. Fin heard a soft deep call. He looked out to the moonlit sea and saw Miranda’s silvery head lift from the water. She gazed at Magnus Fin.
All shall be well, she whispered. Thanks to you, dear child of both worlds, the Seudan and the skin are returned to their rightful owners. Then Miranda, the selkie queen, sank below the sea.
Still Magnus Fin sat peacefully on his rock, letting one foot trail down into the cool water. He would sleep soon, and dream of this party and of all that had happened. He looked up suddenly, startled at the sound of a soft splash. He fixed his gaze on the water ahead. The dark water ruffled, then a beautiful black seal, shimmering in the moonlight, rose from the water. With her green twinkling eyes she gazed at him. Fin’s heart thudded in his chest. “Aquella!”
Magnus Fin, she said.
Fin gasped. “Don’t go!”
I am not gone, she said kindly, only changed. And with a slow curve of her tail fins Aquella slipped beneath the water.
Change, after all, was something Magnus Fin understood. He wasn’t afraid of it. He would see his cousin soon.
Mgnus Fin watched the sea. Stars came out. Behind him he heard the murmured voices of people around the embers of the fire. He smelt the wood smoke and breathed in deeply. He’d be twelve years old soon. He’d go up to high school. And it would be good – he knew it would. There was so much to learn, so much to do.
The words of Miranda echoed on inside him: All shall be well. The wisdom of the ocean was restored. The selkie secret was safe. And he, half selkie, half human, could see his selkie family any time he wanted.
For a long time Magnus Fin stayed on the black rock, with one foot dangling in the cool water, then he went back to join the others around the fire.
A Guide to the Selkie Tongue
In the past there were many more selkies. They were frequent and much loved visitors amongst the good people of the northlands. They wandered easily amongst the Gaelic-speaking peoples of the Highlands and the Western Isles and not surprisingly learnt their tongue. But nowadays there are very few selkies, and likewise not so many folk speaking Gaelic.
The selkies related to Magnus Fin came originally from the Western Isles but when their way of life was threatened they moved to the remote island of Sule Skerrie in the Northwest Atlantic. After many quiet years there they longed again for human company. Intrigued by the people of Caithness, a band of selkies travelled around the north coast, eventually settling in a bay close to the shore down the rugged coastline between John O’Groats and Dunbeath.
Though the selkies communicate chiefly by song, pitch, honks, howls and barks, they can also speak Gaelic and English. Language comes easily to them, though their favoured language is music. In this book there are a few Gaelic words. Overleaf are translations and guidance on how to pronounce these words.
Ciamar a tha thu – pronounced Cimar a haa oo – How are you? (singular/informal)
Ciamar a tha sibh? – pronounced Cimar a ha shiv – How are you? (plural/formal)
Ceud mile fàilte – pronounced Kee-ud meela faal-che – a hundred thousand welcomes
Fàilte – pronounced Faal-che – Welcome
Seudan – pronounced Shay-dun – Jewels
Tapadh leat – pronounced Tapa lat – Thank you (informal)
Tapadh leibh – pronounced Tapa liv – Thank you (plural, formal)
Tha gu math – pronounced Haa gu ma – I’m fine
Tioraidh an-dràsta – pronounced Cheery an draa-sta – meaning bye-bye, or, as we say in Scotland, Cheerio!
Acknowledgements
A lot of people – and places – have helped me in the creation of Magnus Fin and I’d like to thank them here.
Firstly I’d like to thank that far-flung, wild cliff, beach- and sea-ringed county of Caithness in the far north of Scotland. I’d also like to thank the Scottish Arts Council, Northlands Creative Glass and Lyth Arts Centre for bringing me to Caithness as a writer in residence in 2006. I had never been that far north before and was astounded by the quality of light, the expanse of sky and the ever-changing mystery of the sea. I’m sure, had I not lived so close to the sea and in a place with so few distractions, Magnus Fin would never have managed to find his way into the pages of three book
s.
Caithness and Sutherland retain a sense of wilderness, and in such landscapes it is easy to set the imagination alight. So thank you Scotland’s northlands, thank you the village of Dunbeath – in particular the beach, the cave, the skerries, the seals that visit these shores and the seal pups born on those stony beaches. Thank you to the seal pup born close to my house and well done you for hiding under the upturned boat during the storm and managing to rock and roll over the rubbish strewn on the beach to make it to the sea. Thanks to everyone who cleans beaches and encouragement to those who don’t. Thanks David and Rosemary for allowing me to stay in Neil Gunn cottage. Thanks John Irvine for taking me out in your boat. And heartfelt thanks also to all the good children of Caithness.
Thanks to my uncle John – an artist – for encouraging me, a long time ago, to jump into his old pool thick with frogs and slime. And not only to jump in – but to swim! Magnus Fin is always taking courageous jumps and my uncle John, I suspect, inspired that in me.
There are many other people who, in different ways, have helped me and who I’d like to thank. Firstly I would like to thank all my family for being creative, artistic, persevering and for encouraging that in me. I would like to thank Davie Calder and Megan, for patiently listening to great chunks of Magnus Fin and for offering me insightful feedback. I’d like to thank the people at Brownsbank for offering me a short residency in Hugh McDiarmid’s cottage to complete this book. I’d like to thank my agent Kathryn Ross for, anonymously, offering wonderful feedback on what became the first book, and for her support since. I’d like to thank my editor Sally Polson for her imaginative and invaluable editing skills. I would like to thank all the good people at Floris Books, and may Kelpies continue to flourish!
I’d like to also mention a few dear friends who have given me encouragement and support over the years by following their own creative star – and by showing an interest in mine. Thank you David Campbell, Catriona Murray, Lorna Hoy, Fergus McDonald, Sharron Tweedale, Andie Lewenstein, Louise Coigley, Marjan Broers, Joan Docherty, Amber Connolly, Jean Luc Leirritz, Michel Syret, Nina Naesheim, Rupert Jenkins, Shuna Anderson, Lynne Mahoney, Donald Smith, Alexander Mackenzie, all my wonderful creative-writing students – and last but never least my wee collie dog Flora who has had more walks by the beach than any dog I know. And apologies to the many dear friends not mentioned here by name.
I would also like to say a huge thank you to the hundreds of children I have met while visiting many schools, from Shetland to Sussex. Thank you for sharing your own stories – and thank you for reading Magnus Fin.
Janis Mackay
Also by Janis Mackay
(available in paperback and eBook)
Magnus Fin and the Ocean Quest
There has always been something unusual about Magnus Fin, a school misfit. On his eleventh birthday Magnus throws a message in a bottle out to sea, wishing for a best friend and to be more brave – and he gets a lot more than he bargained for. Magnus discovers that he is half selkie – part seal, part human – and his selkie family urgently need his help.
Can Magnus save his new-found family from the evil force threatening all the ocean’s creatures? And will he find the friend he has always dreamed of?
Magnus Fin and the Moonlight Mission
On his eleventh birthday, schoolboy Magnus Fin found out that he was half selkie – part human, part seal. Although he looks like a boy and lives on land, he can breathe underwater.
In the exciting sequel to Magnus Fin and the Ocean Quest, Magnus Fin finds dead seals washed up on the beach and knows his selkie family needs his help. But what’s causing the selkies’ sickness and the terrible stench beneath the waves? And who is the green-eye poisoner? Can Magnus Fin find out the truth before it’s too late?
Copyright
Kelpies is an imprint of Floris Books
First published in 2012 by Floris Books
© 2012 Janis Mackay
Janis Mackay has asserted her right under the Copyright, Designs and Patent Act 1988 to be identified as the Author of this Work.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced without the prior permission of Floris Books, 15 Harrison Gardens, Edinburgh
www.florisbooks.co.uk
British Library CIP data available
ISBN 978–086315–892–6
