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This book is dedicated to anyone who struggles with reading and writing. Dream big, fly high, and never let anyone stop you.
Love, Cerrie
C.B.
For Charlie, my wonderful agent xxx
L.E.A.
Once there was a girl called Harper who had a rare musical gift. She heard songs on the wind, rhythms on the rain and hope in the beat of a butterfly’s wing. Harper could play every instrument she touched, but her favourite of all was the harp. For whenever she played its silken strings, the air seemed to whisper with magic…
Contents
Cover
Dedication
Chapter One: The Messenger Gull
Chapter Two: The City of Gulls
Chapter Three: The Smugglers’ Map
Chapter Four: The Boat of Beardy Fishermen
Chapter Five: A Lullaby of Lost Ships
Chapter Six: The Secret Tunnel
Chapter Seven: The Songs of the Sea Festival
About the Author
Picture Books by the Same Creators
Copyright
Chapter One
THE MESSENGER GULL
High on the topmost floor of the Tall Apartment Block, Harper was dreaming of music – a melody of stars and storms. Suddenly, a frantic squawking cut through the song, and her dream was full of feathers.
Harper opened a single sea-grey eye and peered through a gap in the velvety curtains. To her surprise a huge gull was hovering outside. Its wings were the colour of the sea at dawn and its eyes were as sharp as flint.“You must have come from the sea,” Harper breathed.
Elsie Caraham popped her head around the sitting-room door and gave a wild grin. “That, young Harper, is a messenger gull,” she cried. “Look, it’s carrying a message.” Elsie Caraham was the oldest resident of the Tall Apartment Block. Harper was staying with her whilst her great aunt Sassy was away. If anyone knew anything about birds, it was Elsie, as she had lived near the skies all her life.
Harper seized her magical Scarlet Umbrella and ran out the door on to the rooftop, her pyjamas fluttering in the breeze. Exactly three paces behind her prowled Midnight, her beloved cat. In a matter of seconds, Harper had flung the umbrella open, flipped it upside down, hopped inside with Midnight and was sailing up into the morning sky, towards the circling gull.
In the stormy air above the City of Clouds, the gull dived towards the Scarlet Umbrella. Harper closed her eyes and shivered as the great bird rushed past, dropping the letter into her hands. Then, with a parting squawk, the gull was gone, soaring away to a far-off sea.
Harper’s fingers trembled with excitement. She very rarely got letters, and when she did, it was normally birthday cards or poems from her friend Ferdie. But this letter looked different. For a start, the envelope was purple and it smelled faintly of lavender. “I think it’s from Great Aunt Sassy!” Harper called down to Elsie who was watching from the rooftop as she tore the envelope open. Inside was a map, a set of directions and a note scrawled in lavender ink:
With the gentlest of thoughts, Harper brought the Scarlet Umbrella floating back to the rooftop. Before it had even landed, she pulled her piccolo flute from her pocket and played three sharp notes. This was the secret signal that let her three best friends know she needed their help.
Moments later, there was a scuffling sound at the far end of the rooftop. Harper, Midnight and Elsie stared as a small tangled ball of hair emerged from amongst some plant pots. The hair could well have been a nest for a family of mice, or it could have belonged to a child.
“Liesel!” Harper cried as a small bright-eyed girl with scuffed knees and a muddy face scampered up to her.
Next came a swish of sleek fur, and a wolf the shade of morning mist slunk on to the rooftop. At the wolf ’s side was a boy who moved as silently as moonlight, and although he could hardly see the world around him, he knew every street of the city: Nate Nathanielson.
Lastly came Ferdie, a serious boy with a serious scarf and a pencil tucked behind his ear, ready to write down stories.
The four children, the wolf and the cat all crowded around the letter.
“Sassy needs our help,” said Harper.
“There’s only one thing for it,” cried Ferdie. “We need to gather every instrument we can and tie them to the Scarlet Umbrella!”
Nate gave a wide grin. “Yes, just like we did when we rescued the cats from the Midnight Orchestra.”
Liesel gave a twirl of glee, skipped across the roof and rang a large silver bell. This was the Tall Apartment Block’s meeting bell, which summoned every resident to the rooftop.
Within minutes a crowd had gathered. As soon as they heard the news of the stolen instruments they stumbled off sleepily, still in their dressing gowns, and returned with a splendid collection.
There was a huge and mighty double bass, a round, booming drum, a sparkling trombone, Madame Flora’s cherry-wood piano, Harper’s precious cello, Ferdie’s button accordion, Liesel’s silver triangle and Nate’s brother’s Roman tuba!
Elsie Caraham and Madame Flora took a strand of edentwine – an unbreakable string made from the stems of storm blooms – and set to work tying each instrument to the handle of the Scarlet Umbrella. Nate carefully attached a large kite and Midnight’s cat basket. Ferdie took hold of the kite like a glider, and Liesel shot into the cat basket.
Harper scooped up Midnight, leaped into the upside-down umbrella, and helped Nate in after her. With a wondrous bound Smoke joined them, her golden eyes blazing like stars.
“Good luck,” Elsie cheered, waving them off. Harper closed her eyes and, with a silent wish, commanded the Scarlet Umbrella to take them into the sky. Up they soared, up high above the City of Clouds, four children, a cat, a wolf and a trail of magnificent instruments, gleaming in the morning rain.
They were on their way to City of Gulls. They were on their way to adventure.
Chapter Two
THE CITY OF GULLS
“Follow the river north!” yelled Ferdie, studying the map in his hands.
“Got it,” called Nate, reaching out over the side of the Scarlet Umbrella and feeling through cloudburst rain and a patch of thunder.
Liesel peered down from the cat basket and gave a scream of excitement when the river roared into view.
“Which way now?” asked Harper.
“Follow the river to the foot of the Mist Mountain, then turn left and pick up the scent of the sea,” cried Ferdie.
“OK,” Harper smiled. As the peak of Mist Mountain loomed into sight, she helped Nate steer the Scarlet Umbrella left, then whispered to it, “Take us to the sea.” At once, the sharp scent of salt tickled their noses. Then the clouds thinned and the children gasped.
You see, in t
he City of Clouds there are six types of rain that fall, float and patter from the sky every single day, in many different ways. Rain is what the children knew, and rain was the weather they loved the best. But as the Scarlet Umbrella carried them far from home, they were each struck by golden-bright sunshine. Harper laughed in amazement, and Ferdie quickly loosened his scarf. He much preferred cold, lonely greyness.
Nate smiled and took off his hat, and Liesel leaped and turned a perfect pirouette in the cat basket.
A wild sea-wind snatched up the Scarlet Umbrella as if it were a fallen leaf. The children whooped and clung on tightly as they soared towards the City of Gulls, the instruments clanging and banging and sending odd notes of music tumbling down into the day.
“The City Gulls!” Liesel squealed as thousands of soaring birds came into sight.” But it was not just gulls that swooped through the sky. Seabirds of every type were circling the green waters, their wings spread wide, their eyes seeking out silvery fish.
Smoke sat up straight, her nose tipped towards where the moon might be, howling with happiness and hope. Nate laughed and ruffled her fur.
Harper noticed that the city itself was a peculiar little place, full of winding lanes and quaint old shops selling ships in bottles or deep-sea treasures. Instead of thick cloud the air was full of light, and the cry of the gulls rang through the streets.
She shivered with excitement. There was definitely a sense of mystery to this place.
Above her, Ferdie peered down from his kite. “The rooftops here look haunted,” he murmured, deciding at once that he liked City of Gulls very much. It looked like the kind of place old explorers might live in. Ferdie pulled his pencil from behind his ear and began scribbling a sea-shanty.
“Look, there’s an old crumbling pier,” said Liesel, quickly describing it for Nate. “It’s a strange old structure that’s half fallen into the sea.”
“There’s no sand on the beach,” added Harper, “just a shore of pale white pebbles and sea of swirling green.”
Nate listened happily. He could make out the dazzling glitter of the water, like a shadow edged in starlight, and he could feel the kiss of salt on his skin.
As they swooped down over the beach, they saw a bandstand and the Royal Seaside Pavilion. Gathered upon the bandstand was an orchestra of musicians without a single instrument, all miming the notes they should have been playing.
“What are they doing?” asked Ferdie.
“Pretending to play imaginary instruments,” said Harper sadly.
“Perhaps they’ll cheer up now we’ve brought them some real ones,” Nate grinned. But he could not have been more wrong. For no sooner had Great Aunt Sassy come running out of the Seaside Pavilion and carefully helped the children lower each instrument on to the bandstand, than the entire orchestra started moaning. And what a terrible fuss they made! Harper had never heard such a racket.
“We can’t possibly play this drum, it’s not loud enough!” huffed a large ruby-cheeked man whose voice seemed to boom.
“And I simply cannot play this cello, it’s too old,” declared a graceful woman with curvy dark hair.
“This double bass is not acceptable,” piped up a tall man with sturdy shoulders.
“Well, this piano is out of tune,” complained a red-haired woman with a fretful frown.
Liesel scowled at the woman crossly.“Perhaps you just don’t know how to play it,” she said, with a toss of her messy curls.
The orchestra glared at the small girl angrily, their eighty pairs of eyes staring hard. Ferdie stood up taller – he was ready to stick up for his sister. Great Aunt Sassy flapped her arms anxiously, and turned round and round like a confused duck.
Smoke gave a low forewarning growl and the orchestra all took a huge step back. At once Nate’s hand was on the wolf ’s head, soothing her mood. That was the wonderful thing about Smoke: she wasn’t wild, but nor was she tame. Her heart was filled with loyalty for Nate. Yet with time, Smoke had grown very fond of Nate’s friends – especially light-footed Liesel.
Nate softly stepped forward. “Listen,” he said calmly to the orchestra. “There’s no need to get upset. We just wanted to help with Songs of the Sea Festival. If you won’t play the music, then Harper could instead.” Nate turned his face towards his friend and beamed. For although he couldn’t see her, he saw the outline of a girl who shimmered with harmonies, and he winked, making Harper smile.
Midnight tiptoed over to the cherry-wood piano and began tuning the notes with his tail. The orchestra stared with astonishment as Harper kissed Midnight’s nose, then sat down to play. Each ivory key she touched seemed to fill the air with tunes that echoed of water and waves.
She moved on to the cello, followed by the double bass, drum and then the glistening trombone, with which she played three sharp notes. The others knew what to do. Ferdie began squeezing the button accordion, Liesel let the silver triangle ring out and Nate went wild on the Roman tuba, whilst Midnight and Smoke played a duet on Harper’s cello.
By the end of the performance, the orchestra all looked quite sheepish. They muttered an apology and quickly went back to miming the notes. Harper sighed.“They’re still cross they’ve lost their own instruments.”
“Well,” said Ferdie in a serious tone, “unless we want to put up with more bad moods, we better try and find the missing instruments.”
The others all gave a nod.
“Yes,” agreed Nate, “let’s split up.”
Chapter Three
THE SMUGGLERS’ MAP
Harper and Ferdie set off into the heart of the City of Gulls at a run. The city felt as odd as it had looked. Everything was slightly crooked, so neither of them could tell if they were walking up a hill or stumbling down a ditch.
Midnight, who normally tiptoed three paces behind Harper, scampered lightly in front and darted through the doorway of a higgledy-piggledy shop. It was called “The Pirate’s Pearl”. The two children rushed after Midnight, but the little shop was packed so full of junk they had to climb over a massive barrel of rum and crawl beneath a three-legged table just to get inside.
Midnight sprang on to an old oak cabinet, knocking over a long wooden tube with a swish of his white-tipped tail. “Watch out,” cried Ferdie, leaping to catch it.
The lid of the tube popped open and a faded sheet of parchment slipped to the floor. “What is it?” asked Harper as Ferdie carefully unfolded it.
“It’s a map of underground passageways,” Ferdie grinned, “all leading to the same place: Gull Island.”
“What’s Gull Island?” asked Harper.
“It’s an old smuggler’s hideout, just off the coast,” echoed a voice croaky with sleep.
Harper and Ferdie spun around to see an old man sitting in a rocking chair. His eyebrows were snow-coloured, and he looked like he’d been snoozing for the last hundred years.
The old man winked a bright blue eye and gave a big crinkly smile before stumbling to his feet and saying in grand voice, “Ahoy, there! I’m Slim Joe, owner of the Pirate’s Pearl and expert on the City of Gulls. What can I do for you?”
“We’re looking for stolen instruments,” said Ferdie.
Slim Joe gave a wise chuckle. “This city is built upon secrets,” he said mysteriously.
Harper smiled. She knew there was something special about this place, and she could feel it under her feet.
“It’s a smugglers’ town, you see,” Slim Joe went on. “Beneath the streets is indeed a maze of tunnels that lead out under the sea.”
Both children gave a gasp of delight.
“Of course nobody uses the tunnels any more,” said Slim Joe, pouring three cups of tea from a rusty old kettle.
“Why not?” asked Harper.
“Nobody knows the way in,” Slim Joe shrugged.
“But doesn’t it say on the map?” asked Ferdie.
Slim Joe shook his head. “The map marks all the tunnels, but it got torn, and now no one knows where the entrance is.
”
Ferdie gulped down a swig of bitter tea.
“We’ll take the map,” he cried, tightening his scarf.
“Consider it a gift,” beamed Slim Joe.
“I wonder what other secrets this town holds,” said Harper quietly.
“Well, plenty of folk say they hear songs coming from the waves. It’s not called Sea of Secrets for nothing,” mumbled Slim Joe.
Harper’s eyes widened. “Come on,” she cried, “we’ve got to get back to the beach.”
Slim Joe watched in stunned silence as the two children ran into the street, scooped up Midnight, opened the Scarlet Umbrella and raced into the air. Soon their feet were skimming the rooftops as they flew through soaring gulls.
On the stony shores of the Sea of Secrets, Liesel and Nate wandered towards the crumbling pier. Liesel danced ahead, her feet hardly touching the stones. Nate took in every crunch of every pebble, every fizz of every wave, every screech of every gull that looped the sky.
He loved it, and so did Smoke. There was a wildness in her step that Nate had only known her use at night. She was a blur of mist, a shadow with a heartbeat, streaking in and out of the waves, her fur turned silver with salt.
Then the wolf stopped, her ears pricked. She was picking up a sound that Nate couldn’t hear. Liesel, who knew Smoke well, scurried over.
“Can you see anything strange?” asked Nate.
Liesel scanned the horizon, her small eyes beady as a gull’s. “There’s nothing but a boat full of fishermen,” she shrugged.
“Oh,” smiled Nate. “Maybe Smoke can hear them singing.” For the fishermen were all singing a lullaby of some sort.
But, as Liesel watched the beautiful wolf, she noticed Smoke was staring at the waves beyond. “Wait,” she said, yanking Nate’s sleeve. “I think Smoke’s listening to something in the sea.”
Harper and the Sea of Secrets Page 1