Magnus Fin and the Moonlight Mission

by Janis Mackay

  So Tarkin sat down facing out to sea. He dipped the oars into the water and pulled. It was hard work. He put his back into it. The water dragged at the oars. Tarkin heaved them through the water for all he was worth. Was the boat moving? He hoped so. He kept rowing.

  At least he had forgotten the sharks!

  Chapter 21

  For one so tiny, the crab swam fast. Fin followed, clutching his moon-stone. He had a strong feeling that the green eye he was seeking was close by. He would need every ounce of courage he could summon. The fish gang had been bad enough. Magnus Fin shot a few glances behind to check that he’d lost them. He caught up with the crab and as they darted through the water Fin tried to make conversation.

  That ugly fish gang must have had more escapes than I’ve had hot dinners, he said, shuddering at the memory of the festering sores and rusting fish hooks. They must be really strong to wrench themselves away from fishing lines.

  The crab’s thoughts travelled swift and clear. Strong? Those bullies aren’t strong. They range the seas looking for weaker creatures to bully. No, they’re not strong. Fishermen just saw how ugly they were and threw them right back. I don’t blame them. Now, where is it?

  Where’s what?

  The canyon. Ah yes, this way. Come on, quick.

  You’re not going to disappear again, are you? Magnus Fin asked, somehow knowing what the answer would be. It would make me feel better knowing you’re around.

  Don’t worry, I’ll be around. I’m always around. You know, even if I vanish from time to time, I’m still around. Oh, and don’t worry about the bullies, said the crab. If they come back just threaten to pull their fish hooks. That’ll send the fear of a tsunami into them. Right, here we are. A job for you. Are you feeling strong, M F?

  Um, crab … what job am I supposed to do?

  The crab fixed Magnus Fin with his piercing red eyes. This, Fin could tell, was serious. The boss is away on another job. Miranda is working flat out to save her people. Listen well – Neptune told me to call on you. You have the combined power of land and sea. And you’ve already proved yourself a hero for us. Something behind this rock is poisoning the sea. The selkies are dying, Fin.

  Fin stared at the crab. He felt a lump rise in his throat. Neptune, the great sea king, had asked for his help?

  Crab, Fin said, finding his voice, I think there’s another monster behind this illness. It has a scary green eye. I know – I’ve seen it.

  Well, now’s the time to go and put a stop to it, the crab said, adding, as Magnus Fin knew he would, cos this is where you and I bid each other bye-bye. Good luck, M F. I’ll never be far away. So long.

  And with that the crab disappeared.

  Magnus Fin didn’t ask where he was supposed to go. He knew. He swam alone through a cavern studded with barnacles and shining shells. He came to mighty crags and canyons where it seemed faces of wizened men and mighty warriors had been carved. A feeling of déjà vu came over him. I have been here before, Fin thought.

  In bits it came back to him. Yes. This was the place. Somewhere near here was the rock with a face. On he swam, in and out between the great rock shapes. His thoughts turned to his grandmother Miranda. The last time he had seen her on the beach, a veil of white sat over her eyes and she had seemed afraid and weak. Miranda was queen of the selkies. She was strong and beautiful. She couldn’t die. And Shuna? Would she be locked in that sunken ship for ever?

  The memory of the weeping rock came back to him, and Fin fumbled to fit his goggles. They would keep the brown sludge from seeping into his eyes. He pulled them on and was plunged into night. They might stop his eyes from stinging, but his torch-lights, it seemed, couldn’t penetrate through them. He couldn’t see a thing.

  Magnus Fin was close to the rock. He knew that. His nostrils told him so. A sickly metallic smell caught at his throat. He grasped his moon-stone with one hand and placed his other hand over his belly. Stay alert, that’s what his instinct told him.

  Sightless, he reached his hands out and felt through the thick water. Hearing a bang he drew back, afraid. Was that the beating of his heart? Or was it the same muffled thudding sound he had heard before?

  He strained to hear. The sound grew louder. And louder.

  Blindly he followed the awful noise, groping forward through the water, trying to imagine he had an eye at the tip of each finger. One moment the banging sounded like a whale trumpeting, the next like a messenger knocking at a castle door. Trails of plankton brushed his face. The dull battering went on and on.

  Fin reached forward and the palms of his hands grazed against hard rock. His fingers landed in something jelly like. He winced. He felt a thin gap in the stone. More of the oozing jelly smeared his fingers. Fin drew his hand back and clutched his moon-stone. This was it! He had finally arrived.

  The banging stopped. An eerie silence hung around him. Where was the green eye? Staring at him through the crack in the rock? Fin couldn’t tell. But the source of the selkies sickness lay behind this rock. Of that he was certain.

  Chapter 22

  Magnus Fin felt strength surge through him. Neptune had called on him. This was no time or place for weak knees and palpitating heartbeats.

  He patted and groped either side of the crack in the rock. The gap was too thin to squeeze even an arm through. Yanking his hand free, he felt gunge stick to his skin. He kicked his feet and grasped around the rock, feeling for an entrance.

  Fin shuddered as the banging sound resumed, like a hammer on his head. Remembering the splitting headache he suffered before, he had to move fast. This thick, sticky liquid was no ordinary seawater; it was toxic. He didn’t need eyes to tell him that. Already a drowsy feeling had crept into him. He carefully opened the locket and took out a strand of Neptune’s seaweed to protect him from the poison. Magnus Fin had felt around the huge rock from side to side and down to the seabed. There was no opening. Could he find a way in over the top? Fin kicked his feet and glided upwards. Twice he scraped his feet against the craggy stone. Then suddenly there was no more stone.

  Groping forward Fin felt only water. He’d reached the top of the rock. Blindly he swam over it and prepared to dive down into what seemed to be a crater. He longed to whip off his goggles and scan the place with his torch-lights, but he remembered the stinging pain from last time. So he swam nervously downwards through the pitch-black. Down there somewhere, in amongst the gunge and the banging, was a creature with a green and wild staring eye.

  The water pressure grew heavier, the stench stronger than ever. The banging had stopped. Through black thick nothingness Fin dived, like a lamb going into a lion’s den. He kept going because the feeling in his belly told him to, and because his dad had told him to heed that feeling.

  Fin didn’t have eyes but he had ears. His ears heard a squeaking and a scraping. Fin stopped. The green-eyed poisoner, whatever it was, was close. Fin’s heart jolted. A sound like a muffled scraping noise reverberated through the water, followed by a bang.

  Panic swept through Magnus Fin. His blindness terrified him. Forget instinct, he was a sitting duck. The invisible green-eyed monster that brought the sickness to the selkies could bat him around like a tennis ball, or swallow him in one bite. If Magnus Fin was to save his grandmother and put an end to this sickness, he needed to see. Better stinging eyes than no eyes at all. He tore off the goggles, blinked furiously and flashed his torch-light eyes.

  He scanned the water beneath him and gasped. Was this a sunken city? Were these fallen pillars, slumped walls and roofs? He seemed to be in some kind of huge round cavern. Below him were heaped rusting silver and white square and oblong shapes. Fin moved closer. The smell made him retch. What were they?

  Something shifted between two of the white shapes. Fin froze. What was it? It looked liked a jumble of jerking seaweed. Fin’s heart kicked in his chest. What kind of weird creature was this? Sticking out from the jumble of seaweed two arms or tentacles flapped about in the water. Was this a kind of octopus? Fin
slipped back into the bearded shadows of the cavern wall.

  The thing wriggled itself up from between two white shapes. Fin watched. A small creature with a head of long matted black hair lumbered over the white objects. The thing, Fin now saw in horror, had spindly legs or tentacles. They moved jerkily through the water, studded with limpets and barnacles. Seaweed and slime clung to the creature’s body. Now the wild thing crawled onto one of the white blocks. Once on top, it hunched over and rocked something that looked like a door back and forth, back and forth. Water whooshed in and out, making waves. The banging echoed round the cavern. This was surely the poisoner.

  Magnus Fin, hardly able to see anything now with all the churning and frothing, struggled to swim closer against the swell. The creature, who or whatever it was, ceased banging the door for a second, jerked its head up and trembled. Fin darted in between a dark swathe of seaweed.

  Fin’s eyes grew wide as plates. Slowly it dawned on him; this was no sunken city, no great undiscovered continent under the sea. He shook his head in amazement. A dump – for fridges, car batteries, freezers and storage tanks full of who knows what; that’s what this was. He’d dropped down into a giant toxic rubbish bin! And snaking round the dump oozed thick, brown liquid.

  Fin grasped his moon-stone, trying to find the courage to swim closer and steal a better look at the wild creature in the dump. He crept around the edge of the cavern, keeping close to the hanging fronds. Never had he seen anything like it, not even in a film. The awful monster was banging fridge doors as though it was conducting an underwater orchestra.

  Perhaps the creature sensed the presence of something above, for suddenly it stopped banging and jerked its bushy head upwards. Its body twitched. If that was hair on its head it was matted with a tangle of weeds and fishing net. As the bush of hair parted Fin saw the same wild staring green eye that he had seen before. But there were two of them. They flitted here and there, restless and vacant, as though the creature behind those eyes was somewhere far away.

  Fin held his breath and slunk back behind a thick clump of algae. He didn’t dare move.

  It didn’t take long for the brown stinking sludge to seep into Fin’s eyes. Quickly he rubbed them. They stung. They burned. He tried frantically to pull his goggles back on but it was too late. His torch-lights grew dim.

  He let go his grasp of the seaweed and floundered in the water, sinking down level with the mound of tanks and fridges, thrashing his arms in wild circles.

  The green-eyed creature was in no doubt now that it had company. It too thrashed its barnacled arms through the water. The dump was a churning froth.

  In his panic Fin lashed out, kicked a storage tank and banged his leg. He slumped down beside it, exhausted.

  The sea creature leapt over a fridge then hunched down to stare at his visitor.

  Silence. The banging ceased. Fin groaned as the searing pain burned into his eyes. He tried to drag himself up. Everything was a blur but he knew the monster was close. He had to get away from this menace. As he struggled to stand up, his knees buckled under him. His eyesight was fading fast.

  The wild creature tipped its head to one side, stared at the visitor, then with two filthy hands pushed Fin hard. Fin fell back with the sheer force, and the fear. He crashed against a fridge, lifting it up briefly before it came thundering back down, trapping Fin’s leg underneath it.

  The creature clambered back onto a huge freezer. Wildly now it banged the door, churning up the whole cavern.

  Magnus Fin tried to free his leg but it was wedged in tight between the rocky ocean floor and the fallen fridge. In a daze he grasped the locket that hung beside the moon-stone around his neck. Struggling to open it, he managed to draw out one strand of Neptune’s seaweed. Groping blindly, he brought the weed to his burning eyes and rubbed it over them. Instantly a cooling feeling brought relief. He was able to half-open his eyes. A dim light flickered from them. Like a sputtering candle the light grew. With his eyesight returned, Fin stared at the creature now swimming in circles above him.

  The thing’s matted hair, if you could call it hair, stuck out all around it. Half the ocean seemed to live in that hair. Limpets and seaweed clung to the creature’s body. What was it? A four-legged hairy octopus? A turtle that had lost its shell?

  Whatever it was, it suddenly jumped off the freezer and did a frantic doggy paddle in Fin’s direction.

  Fin gasped and tried again to free his leg but with no luck. Fin’s head throbbed. His leg felt numb. The smell in this dump made him want to throw up.

  But something held the green-eyed creature back. It seemed suddenly unsure of Magnus Fin. It kept its distance as it peered through the murky water.

  Could the strange creature understand him? Fin wondered. Would it be able to read his thoughts? Fin tried to focus on his sick grandmother. He tried to pull his dissolving thoughts together. Who are you? I am Magnus Fin. I am the grandson of Miranda, son of Ragnor. What are you?

  The creature stopped banging the freezer door. It jerked its head up, down and all around. Then, as though distressed, it yanked and pulled at its hair.

  Fin grasped his moon-stone and tried again. I am Magnus Fin. Miranda is my grandmother. Aquella is my cousin. What are you? Who are you?

  At the name Aquella the creature suddenly let go of its hair. The wild green eyes flickered, widened and seemed to burn. The creature grew still. Then they came: rusty, half-formed thoughts, as though this poor thing hadn’t spoken to anyone for a very long time.

  Aquella … it stammered, Aquella …

  Chapter 23

  Tarkin was glad the engine had cut out. He couldn’t imagine now why he’d panicked. The engine had been noisy and dirty. It was more tranquil without it. He loved the slapping, low swishing sounds his oars made every time he dipped them into the sea. He loved the way the small boat glided through the water with every pull of the oars. And it was him, Tarkin, making the boat move, with his muscles, his back, his strength.

  The only pity was the sweets were gone. He’d wolfed back the toffees, hardly tasting them. Nerves, that’s what all that fast chewing earlier was about. He didn’t feel nervous now. The moon glinted on the water and from far in the distance he could hear music coming from the village hall. Tarkin grinned, imagining his mother and Frank trying to do a Gay Gordons.

  He rowed a bit and daydreamed a bit. He felt a river of sweat trickle down his spine. It might be November but Tarkin didn’t feel cold. His life jacket was warm, plus three fleeces, not to mention the vigorous activity of rowing itself. He had heard about people on rowing machines at the gym. Now here he was, rowing for real, on the North Sea no less. His hands were slippery with sweat but he didn’t dare let go of the oars. He’d seen films where people let go of oars and in seconds the oars were gone and the people goners. No, Tarkin was hanging on, and every now and then glancing over his shoulder. The coastline was closer; he was sure it was. All he had to do was keep the boat more or less near the rocks; not so near he’d smash against them, but near enough that Magnus Fin would be able to find him.

  Where was Fin anyway? At least five, even ten minutes had passed. That could feel like days, weeks even, under the sea. Tarkin glanced over the edge of the boat but he could only see one person down there and that was his own silvery reflection. In his mind he repeated the words of his Native American chant, Eagle feather, white and pure, guide him, guide him.

  Tarkin’s mind started wandering to the mermaid he had seen back home in the Yukon, far west of where he was now. It was three years since that beautiful magical head had risen from the freezing lake. Tarkin remembered it like it was yesterday. It had only been a fleeting glimpse, but his dad had said he’d see her again. The water slapped against the hull of the boat. The gentle rocking motion soothed him. Maybe, if he thought really hard, he’d see her again. Tarkin’s eyes shone. Magnus Fin had told him that’s how magic creatures talk to each other. Fin called it “thought-speak”. Tarkin concentrated hard on his thinkin
g.

  It’s me, Tarkin, he began. And if it’s possible for thoughts to be loud and slow, Tarkin’s thoughts were. I am in a boat, in Scotland. I am rowing. I’m rowing over the moonlit sea.

  Chapter 24

  Magnus Fin’s head was reeling. The effort of that strange stammered speaking seemed to have exhausted the creature and now it crouched down in a small fridge without a door. Its wild black hair and seaweed-covered body trembled. Had Fin heard right? He was still new at this kind of talking. Perhaps he had made a mistake. From what he’d heard, the creature somehow knew Aquella – or had heard of her.

  Neptune’s seaweed had worked wonders on Fin’s eyes and now he could see perfectly, though what he saw horrified him. The creature looked more human than he had first thought: as the water swayed, the weeds sticking to the creature’s body swayed too, revealing thin white arms and legs. Fin saw too how brown liquid oozed out from a hole in a metal tank and swirled around the creature’s face. It seemed to drive it mad. It shook its head. It jerked its limbs. It tossed back its wild head and glared.

  Magnus Fin panicked. He tried to free his leg but it wouldn’t budge.

  The thing stormed out of its fridge with a great thrashing, splashing and frothing. Like a lobster it scuttled over the dumped waste. In moments it was hunched down, crouching close to Fin’s face.

  Help! Fin yelped. Don’t hurt me! I am Aquella’s cousin.

  But the creature seemed to have forgotten speech. It lifted its arms, stared at the back of its own hand, pulled off a limpet and sucked at its contents. Then it ripped off another and another.

  Fin’s stomach churned at the awful sucking sounds of the creature’s pulled flesh. Fin bit his lip as he noticed the longest nails he had ever seen. They curled back on themselves like hooks. Glancing down at the thing’s feet, Fin saw the same horned and horrible nails, long as sickle moons. Would he be the creature’s next victim?