by Janis Mackay
Fin stared into the warm dark eyes of the seal. A flicker of recognition stirred in him.
The seal nodded. Aye, Fin, it is Shuna. I begged you to help us on the beach, but Miranda is afraid. She wants to protect us. The sickness will not come into this sealed place, or so they hope. The bay near here was always special to us selkies, not least because you, Ragnor and now Aquella live close by. But, Fin, the selkies are dying there. Their eyesight is failing. Bones are breaking and even the young are fainting and falling. Locked up like this we are safe. Until it passes. That is what Miranda says. We, the selkies who are still healthy, must stay here until it passes.
Fin stared at her, not understanding. Until what passes?
The sickness. We selkies have to be careful with our skin, you know that Fin.
Fin circled around the young seal. He didn’t intend to be locked up in this sunken ship until the sickness, whatever it was, passed. He had not jumped into the sea and pushed open the rock door to the selkie world for this. He had to help his grandmother.
It won’t come to me. I’m half human, remember? It won’t come to me. Fin wasn’t so sure but he tried to sound confident. You asked me to come and help. The crab wants me to help. I know he does. And Miranda, the one I want to help, has kept me prisoner. There must be a way out of here, Shuna. Help me to escape. I can stop this sickness. I know I can. And I’m not so sure it’s a sickness anyway.
Shuna stared into Magnus Fin’s eyes. Of course it is. It killed many of our kind before.
But I saw the green staring eye, and the stinking gunge. I think someone or something is poisoning the selkies – some menacing creature with a wild green eye. I saw it. Fin lifted the locket around his neck to show Shuna. And I’ve got my last milk tooth in here, and Neptune’s seaweed. They can help. Now I’ve got to get out of here. Help me, Shuna.
Shuna glanced at the other selkies. Some of them had woken up and were now swimming towards the human child, curiosity wide in their eyes.
The only way out of here is if another selkie is brought in. That’s the only chance. Any seals found whose eyes have not turned white are brought to this place.
What is this place anyway?
One of your steel ships. It’s upside down. There is one tiny porthole blocked with a stone. When a healthy seal is found the nurse seals remove the stone and push the healthy seal in here. What do you call it – quarantine? To have any chance of escape you must wait by the porthole. As soon as it opens, Fin, slip out – quick as an eel. I’ll make a banging noise to distract them.
They? Who are they?
The helper seals. The nurses, I told you. But the ones that brought me here were half blind themselves. Escape might be easier that you think. They will hardly be able to see you. But it’s not the helper seals you need fear. It’s the sickness you should fear. It killed my brother.
The other seals had gathered round now. They seemed to be nodding and, with their mournful eyes, wishing him well.
Fin didn’t waste a second. The stone over the porthole could open at any moment. He stroked Shuna’s sleek face then swam quickly over to the round steel porthole. He tried to kick the stone away but it was wedged in tight. All healthy selkie eyes were on him now. He hovered by the porthole, treading water to keep him from floating upwards.
May Neptune guide you, Shuna called out.
Where is he anyway? Magnus Fin asked from his place by the porthole.
Far away, Shuna told him, far, far away where the oil clings to the water.
Fin shuddered. The great king of the sea, Neptune, would not be able to help him. He had other work to do. Feeling more alone than ever, Magnus Fin clutched his moon-stone and waited.
And he waited. Shuna had fallen asleep. Peacefully she floated about in the quarantined tanker. Fin couldn’t imagine what loud distracting noises she would be able to make, floating about in the land of nod.
Magnus Fin felt tired himself. His chin rolled down against his chest. His eyelids grew heavy. Oh, to sleep for a day, a week, eternity. He closed his eyes, stopped treading water and floated up through the upturned hull.
Wake up, Fin. It’s opening.
Fin shook himself. He blinked and rubbed his eyes. Shuna was thudding her tail fin against the side of the ship, to and fro, to and fro. The porthole, with a thundering grinding noise, was opening.
Now, Fin. Go! And Neptune go with you!
The helper seals called for Shuna to calm herself. The stone was fully pulled back now. The waters churned and frothed. Fin spied the gap. He saw a seal being flung into the hull. With not a second to lose Fin dived. He squirmed through the narrowing gap in the porthole, scraping his foot as it closed, stubbing his toe. Just in the nick of time he yanked his foot free as the stone crashed back into the porthole behind him.
He dived deep, on and away through the water. His heart was a drum in his chest. His big toe throbbed. Thank Neptune, he cried, I’m freeeeee!
Through forests of kelp and algae he swam. Through rocky caverns he swam. I’m coming, Miranda! he called loudly in his thoughts. I’m bringing the medicine! But not a murmur came in reply.
Plunging onwards, thoughts of his beautiful, brave and ailing grandmother fuelled his every stroke. With jellyfish, darting eels and then salmon he swam. He needed to find the canyon. He had to find the weeping rock. The image of the green eye haunted him. The sickness wasn’t invisible. It had a grotesque staring eye and Fin was going to find it.
Chapter 19
In the village hall, the St Andrew’s ceilidh had begun. Tam was there on the accordion and Johnny on the fiddle, tuning up. Jeanette was passing round sausage rolls and Wendy and Francis were welcoming the newcomers, Frank and Martha from America.
Out at sea, Frank’s fishing boat was about to run out of diesel. Not that Frank had any inkling of that. Nor did the boat’s skipper, Tarkin.
On the flat rocks by the cave, Aquella was struggling to stay awake. It had been so long since she had been this close to the sea. The swish of the waves breaking over the skerries soothed her. The tang of the salt sea that she so often dreamt of filled her lungs. She hadn’t been this close to home for months. She felt more relaxed than she had ever felt as a land girl. In front of her the waves lapped, running up the stony shore then rippling back. Up and back, up and back. Aquella, eyelids drooping, kicked off her uncomfortable human shoes, bunched a tangle of seaweed into a pillow, laid her head down upon it then closed her eyes and slept.
Deep under the sea, swimming in wide strokes through twisting caverns and over ribbed plains, Magnus Fin had never felt stronger. He was in deep water now. He could feel the weight with every stroke. When he needed to rest he treaded water. Below him, on the seabed, blue lobsters scavenged on a rotting shark. Fin shivered and kicked his webbed feet.
Through wide basins teeming with fish he swam, grateful that the many weird and wonderful marine creatures, though curious, didn’t seem interested in making a boy in a wetsuit their next feast.
A huge octopus with long tentacles swirled upwards and brushed his cheek. The longest worm he’d ever seen, like a writhing giant’s bootlace, looped around Fin’s foot, then recoiled and slunk off. Bright, round sea urchins lay in their thousands on a carpet of red and green seaweed, and dead man’s fingers waved as he glided by.
He had met no seals yet; slithering darting eels, huge shoals of glistening salmon, trembling luminescent jellyfish, he’d even heard the deep bass song of a whale, but seals were nowhere to be found.
Seals would have been good company, but the lack of them made Fin focus on the mission ahead. It was a green staring eye he was searching for, weeping brown oozing tears. He needed to find the crack in the rock and somehow put a stop to this poisonous creature, then quickly find Miranda and give her the medicine. Somehow.
Fin glided above the ghostly remains of a sunken ship wondering, How?
He followed a shoal of glittering herring. Biting his lip he had to admit to himself, he had no idea how he
was supposed to put a stop to this poisonous creature. There was something about that eye that turned his spine to butter. But he, Magnus Fin, had defeated a great monster, hadn’t he?
At that moment a jellyfish brushed his face. Fin winced and pushed it away.
Miranda! he called, but only the sound of waves booming against rocky caverns called back to him. Miranda!
It was then the terrible thought hit him that maybe he was too late. What if Miranda was dead? Panic rushed through him. The great Neptune was far away. And where was Miranda? Fin felt like the tiniest boy in the deepest ocean. And, he realised as his panic grew, this tiny boy was lost.
The ocean seemed fathomless. There were so many dark caverns, so many forests of kelp. It all looked the same. Should he turn right? Or left? Frantically he glanced around. Which way now? He twisted round in the water.
Where are you? he called to any selkies that might hear him. Even a fish might show him where to go. Don’t leave me alone!
The deep silence of the sea was the only reply.
The sea that only moments before had seemed friendly and exciting was suddenly menacing. The swaying seaweed and plankton were now tantalising witchy fingers out to get him. Under his wetsuit a trickle of sweat ran down his spine. Which way should he go? Back the way he came? Or even deeper down through the dark sea? He grabbed his moon-stone.
Instinct! The word flashed into his mind. “If you’re lost, follow it, son.” That’s what his dad had said. “Selkies have a kind of marine radar, like a compass. It’s in our nose, it’s in our belly. It tells us the way to go.”
Fin clapped his hand on his belly. His dad was right. Instantly Magnus Fin knew where to go. The panic left him. He twisted his body to the left and swam on, deeper.
In the immensity of the ocean one green eye was a pin-prick, but suddenly Fin was following a map in his mind. He would find it, and the cause of this sickness. As he swam he remembered the underwater cities Sargent had mentioned in school. He scanned the dark waters beneath him. He saw sea anemones, kelp and waving fronds of bladderwrack, but no sunken city. No glimpse of Atlantis. Only rocks, studded with mussels, barnacles, limpets and cockles. But a rock, Fin reminded himself, was what he was seeking.
Fin dived deeper to examine the rocks. One in particular beckoned him, a small dark rock that stood alone, wedged into sand and sludge. Fin swam closer. His heart skipped a beat. Upon that rock, in silvery wavy writing, the letters M F stared up at him.
Fin slapped his hand on his belly but could only feel the thudding of his heart. Hey! he shouted out in his underwater thoughts. I’m here to help. I came! I’m here to help the selkies. I’ve brought medicine. Hey! M F, that’s me. Is there anybody there?
Nothing answered. Only a faint thudding sound, as though someone, or something, far in the distance, was thumping a battering ram against a rock door.
Chapter 20
Hey, dude! What’s with the human?
Little diver gone and got himself good and lost, looks like to me.
And me.
No wrecks here, diver boy, just us dudes.
Fin was surrounded. He twisted round but they had him covered.
Diver boy looks discombobulated, dontcha think, guv?
That’s the word, Spike. Or dontcha mean dislocated? Ha ha. Will be soon!
The gang of fish swam closer. Teeth flashing. Wide mouths pulsing. Rusted hooks hanging from festering lips. Faces puffing up. Eyes blinking.
Fin gulped. There was only one course of action – politeness.
Pleased to meet you, said Fin. So, um, how are you all doing?
The gang leader glided even closer – so close its sharp white teeth came into biting range. Magnus Fin could see these teeth had been in some scrapes. Most were crooked and broken and rotten. And half of them weren’t sharp or white at all. Fin could see a whole sorry life story in this set of teeth, to say nothing of the rusted fish hooks festering away in its lips. One fish hook stuck out from the ugly fish’s face.
Don’t suppose you have dentists down here? Fin asked.
The gang leader chattered its teeth. They sounded like castanets. The other hoodlums laughed.
Think he taste good? Spike, the teeth-snapper said, slobbering.
Bit thin, boss. Bit scrawny. Them divers are always rubbery and thin.
Politeness didn’t seem to be working. The gang looked hungry. They circled him menacingly, fin tails swishing, slapping Magnus Fin in the face. So what are you doing here? Fin asked, trying to protect his face with his hands.
We’re just cruising. We’re hanging loose. Just loafing around. Fin got the idea. We’re just seeking amusement.
Fin groaned and put his hand on his belly. They weren’t so clever, these fish. If politeness wasn’t going to get him out of this scrape, wit would have to.
Seen any more divers around here? Fin asked the big boss, the one with the hook in his face.
Big boss sneered. Those puffy, wounded lips parted. Fin shrank back, wondering – was this a fish smile?
Yes, big fellows? Huge shoulders? Fin went on. They were here a second ago.
Big fellows, you say?
Huge. Enormous. Really fat.
Which way they go, shrimp face?
Yeah, you tell us or we’ll eat you and spit you out! That was the scaly sidekick, who had so many hooks stuck in his mouth he seemed to have a metal beard.
For a second Magnus Fin thought about his escape from the sunken ship. That was nothing compared to the amount of escapes this gang had been through.
The fat guy went that way, said Fin, pointing into a deep kelp forest. He’s probably hiding in the fronds.
As quickly as they had appeared, the gang of ragged hungry fish flicked round and headed for the forest.
Magnus Fin was ready to swim away fast when underneath him a clam shell opened, and out scuttled the little crab. It darted round behind a rock, and Fin, not knowing what else to do, dived in next to him. The rock was big enough to hide behind. Magnus Fin hunched down close to the crab.
You just wait here till the coast is clear, said the crab.
Fin could feel the tickly prickly movement of the crab crawling up his arm and coming to rest on his shoulder. Fin adjusted his eye-lights by blinking and let a soft glow fall upon the small pink creature with the tiny red eyes.
So M F, it said, what took you so long?
Look, said Fin, I hope you don’t mind me asking but – who are you exactly?
The crab clicked his pincers together and seemed to consider Fin’s question. Let’s just say I work for the boss.
The boss? Who exactly was the boss? And though Fin had barely thought the thought, the crab was quick to answer.
The Big N.
The Big N. Who’s that? A newt? A nurse shark? A narwhale?
Come on, Magnus Fin. Get that brain in gear. You’ll need it for the job ahead.
But what job? I don’t understand.
How about less talk and more action … And with that, the crab was gone, away from their hiding place and scuttling through the water at a rate of knots.
Fin kicked his legs and swam. Once again he found himself following this mysterious crab. And who, Fin shuddered as he swam in fast wide strokes through the water, or what, is the Big N? Suddenly it dawned on him. He swam faster.
Hey! Crab! Do you mean Neptune?
The crab stopped scuttling and swung round, its red eyes flashing through the dark water. Congratulations, M F – you got it!
This underwater adventure seemed to be taking longer than usual. Tarkin looked at his watch and felt the first quiver of anxiety. Magnus Fin had been gone four minutes. That had been three toffees and a swig of orange juice. Tarkin thanked his lucky stars for a calm sea and a bright moon – and for the circle of pine trees around the village hall. Apart from one fleeting jab of seasickness he felt fine. Yes, the calm seafaring life was definitely for him. He didn’t much fancy being tossed about on a choppy ocean with the rain coming at
him sideways and sharks hovering nearby.
Sharks! Drat! He tried to push the thought away, tried to picture happy looking dolphins and gentle kind-eyed seals. Why did he have to go and think of sharks? Now he couldn’t get them out of his mind: tiger sharks, great white sharks, basking sharks, bull sharks. They grew enormous. They glided through the infested water to theme tunes and circled his tiny fishing boat. Reef sharks, goblin sharks, lemon sharks. He stuffed another toffee into his mouth and chewed furiously. He peered longingly into the water. Fin! he thought. Buddy! Where are you?
He looked up. In the distance he could make out dark shapes of rocks and cliffs. Tarkin chewed his lip. If he wasn’t mistaken, land was further away than he thought. Although the sea seemed still as a millpond there must, Tarkin reckoned, be some movement or swell to it. In four minutes of drifting Tarkin had travelled a fair distance out to sea. His worry level rose. He swallowed the toffee, gulped noiselessly and stood up fast, making the boat rock like a cradle. He staggered over to the outboard motor and turned the key.
The small engine puttered, spluttered, coughed out a dark puff of smoke and died.
Tarkin would have screamed if he’d had a voice to scream with. Here he was, the captain of the rescue vessel, and now it was he who needed rescuing. He whimpered soundlessly and his body shook like a leaf. Towel, torch, sweets, rope and blanket weren’t much good now.
That’s when his foot bumped up against something. He knelt down and fumbled at his feet. If he could have, he would have shouted for joy because he had just found the oars. It had been a long time since he and his dad had taken a rowing boat out on the lake in Canada. But Tarkin remembered what to do. “Put your back into it, son,” that’s what his dad had told him.
Quickly he got to work, hauling up the heavy oars and linking them into the round oarlocks on either side of the boat. Panting hard, he managed to secure the oars. He had seen rowers on the television. They never looked where they were going. It seemed dangerous but Tarkin reckoned these strong men on the television probably knew more about rowing than he did.
