Magnus Fin and the Selkie Secret

by Janis Mackay

  Fàilte, she sang, you have returned the Seudan to our beloved Mer King. Fàilte. Fàilte. Ceud mile fàilte.

  Awed to silence the travellers glided through this archway to finally enter the cavern of the great King Neptune deep under the sea.

  A mighty conch shell trumpeted. The deep call alerted every creature that swam, crawled and coiled in the cavern. In moments, fish, crabs, lobsters, jellyfish, dolphins, porpoises and eels formed a file of welcome. With Magnus Fin holding the crate in place, paddling his webbed toes gently to propel him forward, and with Aquella and Miranda below, balancing the crate on their strong seal backs, Neptune’s stolen treasure made its way to the throne of its rightful owner. As the procession glided by, the onlookers bowed, or nodded, or clicked their pincers together. Each – in the manner of his kind – bade them welcome.

  I told them. I said we could rely on Magnus Fin. And see – I was right.

  Fin paused for a moment to look in the direction of the voice he had come to know. The tiny pink crab paddled through the water and landed on Magnus Fin’s shoulder. As you have looked after us, we’ll look after you. May good winds, good tides and dear King Neptune bless you and yours all your days!

  And with that the crab paddled off and landed on a swinging seaweed frond that trailed from the great cavern door. As though the little crab commanded it, the cavern door, with a thunderous boom, swung open. Emerald-green water gushed and frothed, ushering the travellers in.

  From the pounding froth Magnus Fin saw the mighty form of King Neptune rise from a tangle of seaweed and ocean plants. A face full of kindness, at once like the green sea, then like a breaking wave, emerged from the tangles. Neptune’s beard seemed like a forest of kelp. His eyes like deep oceans. But Fin, who could only stare into the immense emerald eyes, saw sadness there too.

  The mighty Mer King seemed to fumble for a moment. He plunged his great green hand into a tangle of fronds and brought up his three-pronged fork, his Triton.

  So much has been taken from me. So much has been stolen. So much the sea has suffered. There has been so much taking – taking – so much greed.

  The Triton fell limp in the Mer King’s hand, like a wand that could weave no more magic. Neptune rose up from his mighty shell throne and shook his forest of hair. The ocean heaved with him. A million bubbles frothed green and white. In the watery turmoil Miranda slipped out from under the crate and swam up to the king.

  Beloved King, Manannán, she said urgently, Magnus Fin here – and Aquella – have brought back the Seudan. There has, dear King, been much taking as you say, but there has been much giving. Look, look what they bring to you.

  Aquella slowly lowered the heavy crate and slipped out from under it, as Neptune’s helpers took it from her back and carefully removed the kist. Exhausted she hung motionless in the water. Fin glanced down and saw the mark from the crate on her back. Neptune too saw it. He stretched out a hand and laid it gently on Aquella’s back.

  When Neptune spoke, waves boomed and sang. You have your seal skin returned to you, in good condition I see. I hoped my mending spell had reached the false king’s ruined palace before my powers failed me. From this distance, I couldn’t be sure.

  Oh, thank you, King Neptune. It was Magnus Fin who found it, she said, the exhaustion gone from her voice. Aquella spun in the water, showing off her beautiful seal skin. And it is perfect. She sounded radiant again, and full of life. Magnus Fin found the stolen treasure and the key. He has brought the Seudan back to you.

  Then Magnus Fin found his voice. His words were few but they rang like pounding waves. It was a group effort, he said.

  The best kind of effort, said Neptune. And now… he turned his deep gaze upon the metal chest …that which was stolen from me, you say, has finally been returned.

  A hush rippled through the cavern as King Neptune reached his mighty hands towards the kist, which now lay on a stone stand. Slowly, with trembling fingers, he lifted back the lid and a brilliant rainbow light flooded the cavern. In that moment the sadness was swept from his eyes. The jewelled light that shone from the box lit up the swirling water and stretched far. It lit up the avenue of flowers. It lit up sunken ships. It illuminated vast tracts of water. It lit up the bay. The light from the Seudan lit up the whole sea.

  All shall be well, said King Neptune, the radiant light shining in his eyes, his face, his whole being. Then he looked at Magnus Fin, this special child who had been sent from the land to help the creatures of the sea. Choose one, said Neptune, extending his magnificent green hand towards the treasure chest. You too carry the sea’s wisdom.

  Magnus Fin chose a small emerald stone and slipped it into the pocket of his wetsuit.

  Use it wisely and it will bring humans good fortune, said Neptune, as you from the human world have brought good fortune to us.

  Then King Neptune plunged his hand into the sand below his throne and brought up a small golden coin. And this, said the great sea king, laughing kindly and extending the glinting coin, in the currency of the land, will buy you a new wetsuit and perhaps a little more. And his laugh rang out. It cleaned the seas. It refreshed the tides. It healed the fish.

  All the way back to the bay, Magnus Fin, swimming between Aquella and Miranda, heard the echo of that laughter. They all heard it. It spurred them on. It carried them to the rock door. Miranda swam back to the selkies in the bay. Aquella slithered onto the beach. And Magnus Fin grasped the shell handle, and pulled. He raised his head above the surface of the water and breathed air in the way of humans. Then he hoisted himself up onto the ledge of the high black rock.

  For a while Magnus Fin stood, gazing out to sea. The blue water shimmered and the sun glinted upon the surface, like a million golden coins.

  He stretched out his arms and breathed deeply. The sea was his. The land was his. As he shook out his hair and lifted his arms to the sky he felt like the richest person on earth.

  “Fin!” Aquella shouted from the mouth of the cave. “Let’s see if they left us any sausages!”

  “Good idea!” he called to her. “I’m starving!” And he jumped down from the high rock. As he scrambled over the skerries and leapt over rock pools he wondered how many sausages he could buy with a golden coin.

  Hundreds? He leapt over a high rock.

  Thousands? He scuffed up a tangle of seaweed and kicked his heels in the air.

  Millions? He turned a cartwheel in the sand.

  Yes! Magnus Fin guessed that with the sea king’s golden coin he could buy whatever he wanted!

  Chapter 33

  Mrs Anderson was chuffed that Billy Mole, whom she’d come to see as a kind of grandson, said he was staying on for a few more days, if that was OK with her? Never had she seen such a change in a person. He was polite. He ate porridge. He helped with the washing-up. And when he stood awkwardly in the living room one evening with a sheet of paper and a pen in his hand, she sat down and helped him write his last piece for Inside Lives magazine. Mrs Anderson’s spelling was a good deal better than Billy Mole’s.

  Dear Boss and Gaza and Si

  Sorry, but I won’t be coming back. I have decided I don’t really want to be a journalist. I think I am going to travel a bit – see the world, you know – might even sail the seas. I want to do something good. Live a bit. I came up here looking for aliens and you know what I think? Well, I think we’re all different. And I think that’s alright. And I think it’s good to meet different people. I hope I haven’t let you down too much and hope you get on OK with the magazine, and I hope you find somebody else to make the tea. So anyway, that’s all from me.

  Yours sincerely

  Billy Mole

  There was a lot of letter writing going on in the far north of Scotland. While Lorelie was busy making solstice party invitations for the selkies, Aquella made invitations for the land folk. She gathered lots of the loveliest shells from shell beach at John O’Groats – whelks, Venus and clam shells – then set about writing the invitations in her tiniest
handwriting on bits of paper no bigger than her thumb.

  Come to the midsummer party

  where the land meets the sea.

  9pm – summer solstice –

  past Ragnor’s cave

  When each invitation was written she rolled up the paper and pressed each one into a shell. There was one for Barbara and Ragnor, one for Tarkin, one for Billy Mole, one for Mr Sargent and his wife, one for Granny May. Of course there was one for Magnus Fin. And because the shell invitations looked so beautiful, Aquella gave one to herself. She stood it on her windowsill, counted down the days to the party, and sewed white cowrie shells on to her green dress.

  Under the sea, Lorelie plucked strands of green, red and pink seaweed and plaited them into necklaces, long enough to circle the neck of a seal. On each necklace she wove in two shells. This, in the selkie way, meant a wedding would be celebrated. It said: Please come and join the party. There were shell necklaces for Miranda, Shuna, Coll and Sylva, Catriona and Louise, Ruiraigh and Shannon, Ondine and Don, Eirinn and Rob, Rondo and Maura, Erla and Lachlan.

  And when the sun made its journey on the longest day, all would be there, casting off their seal coats and taking on their human forms. On the beach past the cave they’d meet with the land folk to dance, feast and sing.

  Lorelie counted down the tides until her wedding day.

  Seven… six… five… four… three… two…

  One!

  It was midsummer’s day. The sun rose at three o’clock that Sunday morning. Granny May arrived at the cottage down by the shore at nine and spent the whole day helping her daughter with the baking. Barbara made the pizzas, the sausage rolls and the sandwiches. Granny May took care of the sweet things – the chocolate cakes, cupcakes, fairy cakes, millionaire’s shortbread and strawberry tarts. Magnus Fin spread the chocolate on the cakes, placed the strawberries on the tarts and decorated the cupcakes with blue and green wavy icing. Aquella spent most of the day singing, washing dishes and folding napkins. Ragnor was down at the beach gathering driftwood and setting it ready for a bonfire.

  In the early evening a sea mist rolled in, which Granny May said was a big shame but the selkie members of the family just shrugged their shoulders, as if they knew something she didn’t.

  By eight o’clock that evening Magnus Fin, in his new blue trousers and red T-shirt, led the way along the beach path, carrying all the sausage rolls. Aquella followed, carrying the strawberry tarts. She wore her beautiful green bridesmaid dress that she had decorated for the occasion with a hundred white cowrie shells. In her long black hair she had threaded tartan ribbons. As she ambled along she hummed a tune.

  Granny May wore her cowboy hat, jeans and her fringed suede jacket and carried her cakes. She hoped there would be some country and western music.

  Barbara, who walked to the beach beside her, with her guitar slung over her back, said it could possibly be arranged. She carried a picnic basket filled with everything she could think of – paper plates, cups, juice, marshmallows and macaroni pies!

  Ragnor was down at the beach already, setting out stone seats, hanging garlands of sea grass around the arched entrance to the cave, and making sure the beach was free from litter.

  Still the sea mist clung to the coast like a silver curtain.

  While the food was being set out on stone tables, Ragnor lit the fire and the dry wood crackled. The blue smoke spiralled upwards and was lost in the mist. Magnus Fin took ten of the best sausage rolls, ran over the skerries and threw them into the sea. The selkie party wouldn’t be the only party that night. He watched as the flaky pastry sunk downwards. Was it his imagination, or did he see a flash of silver hooks jostle under the water? Happy solstice, he called out, and was about to turn and head back to the beach, when he heard the unmistakable yelp of a seal. Black and silver heads rose from the mist-covered sea. Fin whipped out his penny whistle from his back pocket and played his tune of welcome.

  The seals slithered onto the rocks. Fin played on as more and more seals, honking and calling, hauled up onto the land. Barbara had joined the tune with her guitar while Ragnor blew softly through a conch shell. Howling joyously the seals rocked and bounced over the skerries and up the beach. Still the mist swirled. It sat like a blanket over the seals, shielding them as they burst from their seal skins and took on human form. It was only when they ran – now as boys, girls, men and women, dressed in glistening outfits of red, gold and green – that the sea mist lifted and the midsummer sun burst through.

  With the lifting of the mist curtain the other guests arrived. Some came laughing and cheering. Some came shyly and softly. All were dressed in their best and all carried gifts: food, drink, wood for the fire, drums to bang or rattles to shake.

  There never was such a party. Tarkin joined Barbara on guitar and everyone danced. They danced in circles, they danced in pairs, they danced in the shallow water, they danced on the sand. Even Billy Mole danced. In between dances he told Magnus Fin and Tarkin how Mrs Anderson had helped him find a job on a tall ship, helping disabled people sail round Britain. Then the music started up again and Billy Mole danced with Shuna, then with Erla, then with Granny May. “This,” he said, to everyone he met, “is the best party ever.”

  When the conch shell announced the wedding celebration everyone put down their cakes, their drums, their sausage rolls and ran to the water’s edge. Ragnor had been softly blowing the conch shell. Now he stepped out from the cave, looking, thought Barbara, as handsome as the day she had met him, at this very shore, thirteen years before.

  And if Ragnor was handsome, leading the selkie bride and groom in a slow procession along the shore, Lorelie and Ronan were even more so. It was Granny May who broke the awe-struck silence of the watching crowd. “Isn’t she a bonny bride?” she said and everyone nodded. She was.

  Lorelie wore a long dress that appeared woven, not from human threads but from threads of Neptune’s jewels. It shone red, purple, white and gold. An emerald crown sat on her head and her long black hair, threaded with tiny cowrie shells, cascaded down her back. Ronan wore a suit of red, purple, white and gold. Again it was Granny May who just couldn’t keep quiet. “Really gorgeous outfits,” she said with an admiring sigh. “You don’t get clothes like that in our shops, do you?”

  By this time Ragnor had led the bride and groom close to where the excited guests were gathered. As a hush of expectation fell, Miranda stepped out from the group of guests, with Aquella by her side. “We’re going to get the service now,” Granny May nodded, telling everyone what was going on.

  “Is this a normal Scottish wedding?” Billy whispered.

  Magnus Fin just winked, smiled and said, “Yeah, it’s a Scottish wedding, but it’s not normal!”

  “Ace!” Billy whispered, and he might have said more but Miranda at that moment invited the bride and groom to stand, with one foot each in the water and one foot on the land. Then Aquella sang the beautiful Gaelic Dan Nan Ron – the song of the seals, that she had been practising for weeks. As she sang Lorelie and Ronan exchanged wedding necklaces. And when the song ended Ronan and Lorelie, gazing at each other, chanted the selkie wedding charm:

  You are my wind on the wave,

  My joy in the water,

  My quiet on the rock,

  My strength in the hunt,

  My friend, my mate, my love.

  As they spoke the last words of the blessing a glistening emerald wave curled around their ankles. The selkie couple looked down in wonder. The playful wave gently withdrew, leaving the soft webs between their feet shining. King Neptune had come to the wedding, and blessed them.

  Then Ragnor blew the conch shell once more, the sign for Miranda to cast an offering of sand into the sea. Then, addressing Lorelie and Ronan, Miranda sang the selkie wedding blessing:

  May bountiful tides be yours,

  May pure seas and peaceful coves be yours,

  May land and sea afford safe sweet haven,

  And in the selkie spirit of the ages,


  To each other be kind.

  Be true.

  Then Aquella threw the confetti and as it fell about them everyone cheered, clapped and whistled. Coll played a wedding reel on the chanter, and the happy couple hugged then danced on the sand.

  Selkies love parties and especially weddings. Later, when feasting resumed and the guests were gathered around the great bonfire, Ronan made a speech, saying if it weren’t for Magnus Fin he’d still be stuck in a fridge at the bottom of the sea. Then Lorelie made a speech, saying she would love Ronan till all the seas gang dry. Ragnor said a few words about how he hoped there would always be peace and love between selkies and humans. During his speech Magnus Fin, Aquella and Tarkin all turned and looked at Billy Mole, who winked at them, put his thumb in the air and smiled.

  Later Mr Sargent sat on a stone with Billy Mole. “I never said fish boy,” he explained. “And I never used the word alien; I just want to set the record straight. I was simply curious. The truth is that Magnus Fin has taught me more than I’ve taught him; I’m sure of it. Aquella too, and Tarkin. We’re all different – in our own way – don’t you agree?”

  Billy Mole nodded his head. The very idea of calling anyone fish boy seemed like a dim, distant and bad memory. Then Barbara whisked him off to dance, and while they were dancing she told him there would be a Spain after all, there would be paella and Flamenco, there would be a holiday, because Magnus Fin had brought home a golden coin. Then she laughed, spun out her long red hair, twirled round then gasped. “What’s that?” she cried, staring out to sea.

  But Tarkin had already seen the yacht in the distance. He’d been toasting a marshmallow on a stick when he spied something out at sea, moving through the flames. His oozing marshmallow drooped into the fire. Tarkin staggered to his feet and ran down the beach. He leapt onto the rocks and scrambled over the skerries. The yacht, its white sail shaking, was heading into the bay, clanging its bell. Flapping at its prow Tarkin saw the unmistakable red, white and blue of the Stars and Stripes, and leaning over the side of the yacht and waving wildly was a man. And not just any man.