Storm Singing and other Tangled Tasks

by Lari Don

  Helen navigated herself towards the beach where she hoped she’d find the Scouts by keeping the constantly changing colours of the coastline’s cliffs, hills and beaches on her right.

  She had learnt to row on a loch, with no big waves and no sharp rocks, and she’d never been out at sea on her own. But the sea was calm, she stayed close to the shore, and the boat was lighter without Yann.

  Without anyone else to keep a lookout, she had to twist round regularly to check what was in front of the boat. She avoided the rocks she could see, and hoped there weren’t any submerged.

  Then she heard her name being called. She looked up, and saw two bright dots against the pale cliffs. Catesby and Lavender.

  The fairy screamed, “Wait! It’s not … The Scouts are …” Every third or fourth word was lost in the noise of water and seabirds. Catesby was flying round Lavender, his beak protecting the tiny fairy from the razorbills and guillemots on the cliff face, his wings sheltering her from the air currents.

  Helen sighed. They had chased her out to sea, where neither of them had the weight to resist any wind, all to help their friend Rona win.

  “Helen, you might drown!” Lavender squealed.

  Alright, maybe they were worried about her too. But they weren’t even slightly worried about the Scouts.

  So Helen ignored her friends, and kept rowing along the curved coastline. Next time she turned round, she saw two stacks, tall fingers of rock sticking out of the water, at the point of a long headland. She recognised the Old Man and the Old Woman of Skerness, and she knew the wide beach was just beyond them.

  Suddenly she heard a sound which made her fingers tighten and her spine freeze. She heard a song. A song which she had written with Rona a few weeks ago.

  Rona was storm singing.

  So the Scouts, and the contestants trying to drown them, must be at the beach behind that headland. Helen had come to the right place. But she’d got here too late. The task had started.

  She could hear Rona adjusting her beat and pace so the song spoke with the wind and waves.

  Helen felt a surge under the boat. The waves were joining in! The song was working. She regretted every minute she’d spent on this song, and regretted even more giving Rona the idea of how to sing a storm.

  She heard another faint line of song, from further away or in a weaker voice. Serena’s voice? A song calling not to a storm, but to Helen’s heart, calling her closer, to adore the singer.

  Helen stopped rowing at the foot of the stacks. She’d just realised something really obvious, something which Lavender had been trying to tell her.

  Helen was in a boat.

  The storm which Rona was singing up, the magnetic song of the mermaid, whatever weapon Tangaroa would use to sink his canoes. These would all work on her and her boat too. How could she possibly save anyone else?

  She considered her chances. This boat was bigger, heavier and more stable than a canoe. She knew she was in danger, which might make her harder for Serena to fool, and harder for Tangaroa to attack, though no less vulnerable to the weather called up by her best friend.

  So she hauled on the oars again. Once she’d rowed past the Old Man’s feet, she twisted round for a sudden open view of a bay filled with canoes, and a flat golden beach beyond. The wind was already whipping her hair around her face.

  She glanced back the way she’d come. She couldn’t see Catesby and Lavender. When she’d paid no attention, they must have given up.

  There were almost twenty canoes paddling off the beach. It was too late to warn them all; she would have to save individual Scouts. She could see a jumble of rocks out to the west, where the mermaid’s song was coming from, and a white vortex of spray in the open sea, which must be Rona’s storm. Tangaroa could be under the water anywhere off the beach.

  Helen started rowing for the heart of the storm. It was nearest to her, so she could reach it and those endangered Scouts fastest. Also, if she saved the Scouts in the storm, then she could prevent Rona becoming a killer. She wanted to do that for her friend, even if Rona wouldn’t thank her.

  The nearer she got to the canoes, the louder she could hear Serena’s song.

  “Come to me and sing with me,

  Swim with me and sink with me.”

  Helen’s arms kept trying to pull that way, to get nearer to the song, to learn it, to join in with it.

  So Helen started to hum a piece of music she’d learnt last summer, music which battled against the mermaid’s song in her ears and her mind, diluting its power. Now she could control her arms and the oars; now she could row towards the Storm Singer and her storm.

  Within moments she was in a whirling confusion of weather. She couldn’t hear the call of Serena’s song; she could barely hear Rona’s song. She was almost deafened by the whipping wind and crashing waves. The boat was harder to control, with water pouring over the bow and swirling in the bottom of the boat.

  She twisted round to see how the lighter canoes were coping. There were about five or six trapped inside the selkie’s storm.

  She watched in horror as a yellow canoe flipped over, and a red one vanished under the waves. A blue canoe was thrown into the air, and fell back prow first into the sea, tipping the canoeist out. A green canoe bobbed past her, upside down.

  Two orange canoes were pressed close together, holding each other steady. The storm intensified around those two canoes and their screaming occupants, trying to force them under. But after each huge wave hit them, they bounced back up, like rubber ducks in a bath. So Helen rowed past, heading for the sinking Scouts further on.

  The waves made one more attempt to sink the orange canoes, and hit Helen’s boat on the way past, stinging her eyes, almost pulling the oars out of her hands.

  As she rowed on, she saw long clear tentacles wrapped round the prows of the orange canoes, pushing them up out of the attacking waves.

  Helen blinked her sore eyes. Was that the sea-through? Saving the Scouts? Why would it do that?

  She reached the nearest splashing Scout. It was Emily, who’d been so scathing about Lavender’s dresses. Helen almost screamed in frustration as she tried to keep the boat steady and haul the soaking weight of a girl much bigger than her into the boat. Emily managed to hook her own arms then legs over, and clambered in.

  Helen rowed to the next Scout in the waves. She controlled the boat while Emily pulled the boy out of the water.

  Then Helen noticed the song had stopped, the waves and wind were dying down, her boat was easier to control.

  As the spray left the air, she saw a dark head bobbing in the water.

  Rona was beside the red canoe, her pale human arms reaching out for it.

  Helen wondered if Rona was planning to pull people under the water personally, rather than let the wind and waves do it for her, and she started to row frantically towards the selkie and her victim.

  But Rona rolled the canoe upright, then patted the canoeist, who was still inside, on the back to get water out of her mouth.

  Helen called out, “Are you having a change of heart, killer?”

  Rona swam over to the rowing boat, and glanced at the two Scouts, too busy spluttering to notice her. “No, Helen, I’ve not had a change of heart, I’m still trying to win!”

  “What?”

  “I don’t win by drowning them, you silly fool. I win by saving them.” She swam off towards the next struggling swimmer.

  Helen stood up, rocking the boat in the choppy sea, and saw Rona guide another canoeist back to his boat, keeping his head above water.

  Helen frowned. She turned towards Serena’s rocks. There was a confused-looking canoeist paddling in a circle, several broken and holed canoes floating nearby, and a group of bedraggled canoeists perched on the rocks. Serena, standing on her skinny legs, was pulling one last Scout out of the water.

  At the beach, Helen recognised Tangaroa, his blue tattoos covered with a wetsuit, hauling a limp canoeist up the sand.

  Helen sat down a
gain, sighed deeply, and looked at the two Scouts she’d saved. “I’d better get you to shore.”

  The beach was chaos: coughing Scouts, shouting leaders, boats being sent to fetch the Scouts on the rocks, heads being counted and hot drinks being made. So no one asked Helen any awkward questions. She helped the two Scouts onto the sand, and rowed away as fast as she could.

  Once she was round the headland, she stopped rowing, and let the boat drift, shivering and rubbing tears from her eyes.

  Five minutes later, a dark head popped up beside the boat, and Rona climbed in. She sat at the stern, smoothing down her grey dress, and holding her wet skin in one hand.

  After a moment, Rona said, “They’re all fine. All safe on the beach. A few canoes are wrecked, but that’s a risk they take when they go to sea.”

  Helen was silent, not sure if she should apologise or continue the argument she’d walked out on earlier.

  Rona was happy with silence. She wasn’t a chatterer like Lavender. She sat calmly, folding her skin neatly, brushing the fur the right way.

  Helen wanted to break the silence, but she had no idea what to say.

  Rona stood up, stepped lightly to the middle bench, and put her arms round Helen. “I’m sorry.”

  “What are you sorry for? I’m the one who didn’t trust my friends, stomped off in a tantrum, then ruined your contest. Did you win?”

  “No.”

  “Why not? You sang up a lovely storm.”

  “I didn’t sink two of my boats. And I didn’t save everyone who went in.”

  “I thought you said they were all fine?”

  “They are. But you saved two of mine, so I don’t get points for them.”

  “Sorry. Were the orange ones the two that didn’t sink?”

  “Yes. No matter how high I made the waves, I just couldn’t push them under. I had to stop trying so I could save the four already in the water. So I’d no chance of winning. Even before you interfered.”

  “I’m sorry. But I’m also confused. Was the task to sink them and to rescue them?”

  “Of course,” said Rona. “Why wouldn’t it be? Selkies and mermaids often rescue sailors, you must have heard the old stories …”

  “But surely you don’t want new stories, about selkies and mermaids spotted on the coast now. Didn’t they see you?”

  “They saw us, but we can all look human, so they don’t know what saved them.”

  “Or what sank them,” said Helen. “None of them did drown, but some of them might have if you hadn’t got to them on time. It was really dangerous!”

  “No, it wasn’t! Every single adult selkie, mermaid and blue man was in that bay, ready to swim to the Scouts’ aid. If the contestants hadn’t saved them, not one of them would have drowned. They were safer this afternoon than any time they’ve ever been out in their canoes.”

  “They didn’t know that. Neither did I.”

  “You didn’t let me tell you. You wouldn’t listen when I tried to explain.”

  “If you’d told me about the second task the first time I asked, rather than letting Serena put the worst possible spin on it …”

  “I didn’t think you’d approve of us scaring them like that,” Rona said, quietly.

  “I don’t, but scaring isn’t as bad as killing.”

  “I can’t believe you thought I’d drown them!”

  “I’m sorry I didn’t trust you.”

  Rona was quiet, stroking her damp fur again, like a pet on her knee.

  “So who did win?” Helen asked eventually.

  “Tangaroa. He got six and six. Serena only smashed five of her six on the rocks because one of them had headphones in and didn’t hear her song properly. I was last: I only sank four and only saved two! But there are no prizes for second or third, so that’s one task to me, one to Tangaroa and nothing to Serena so far.”

  Helen remembered something. “Those orange canoes. They didn’t sink because they were being held up by the sea-through.”

  “Really?” Rona stood up and looked round. “Why would a sea-through save humans? They’re usually angry when humans trespass on the sea.”

  “Maybe it cares more about stopping you winning than about stopping trespassers. Maybe that’s its plan. Rona, I really need to tell you what Lavender and I heard the sea-through say last night …”

  “You saw the sea-through last night?”

  “Yes, but first, I’d better apologise to Yann.”

  “Why?”

  “After you left, I had an argument with him too. A fight, really.”

  “You had a fight with Yann? With fists and everything?”

  “Not fists, just sticks and hooves and stuff.”

  “Helen, are you alright?”

  “I’m fine. I won.”

  “You won! You beat Yann in a fight?”

  “Yes.”

  “How?”

  “I tangled his hooves up in a rope, pulled the end and he fell in the bay.”

  Rona’s face was a mix of admiration, shock and fear. “Wow. Are you sure you want to apologise? Wouldn’t you be safer staying out here, at sea, until he calms down? You can stay with me for months, years, forever, if you need to …”

  “Thanks, but I’d better say sorry. Is he still at the campsite?”

  “No,” said Rona, “he’s there.” She pointed inland, to the tall centaur standing on the shore, as still and solid as the stacks of Skerness. “Do you want me to come with you? Stand between you?”

  “To protect me? No, it’s ok. You need to get ready for the next task.”

  Rona smiled in relief. “You’re sure? Good luck then. I’ll see you back at the campsite. You can tell me about the sea-through, and we can have a chat about tomorrow’s quest. I’ll need Lavender’s wisdom and Yann’s fighting tactics. Maybe I should ask you for battle tips too, my warrior friend!” She gave Helen a hug, and dived off the boat.

  Helen rowed to shore, almost as nervous about facing Yann now as she had been on the jetty.

  Yann didn’t say anything as she approached. He just stared out to sea.

  She climbed out and stood beside him. He didn’t look at her.

  Helen realised she didn’t want to apologise to him. She had beaten him fair and square, and didn’t see why she should be ashamed of that.

  “Tangaroa won,” she said, keeping her voice steady. “And all the Scouts are safe.”

  “All the Scouts are safe. What a surprise. To you, but not to anyone else.” His voice was hard and chilly.

  “I’m not going to say sorry,” Helen said firmly. “Not for getting you wet.”

  He didn’t answer.

  “I did say sorry to Rona, for thinking she wanted to drown people. So I should probably say sorry for thinking you would help her, for thinking you would stop me saving lives. So I am sorry. But not for beating you in a fight.”

  “You’re not sorry?” Yann said, slowly.

  Helen shook her head. “Not sorry at all.”

  She sneaked a sideways glance at him, but he was still staring out to sea.

  “Then I’m not going to apologise either. Not for trying to stop you making a fool of yourself, nor for trying to stop you disrupting Rona’s task.”

  There was silence.

  “I can’t believe you fought back,” he said quietly. “That was so reckless.”

  She didn’t answer. He was right. It had been really daft.

  “It was an excellent fight though.” Yann’s voice was a little warmer. “You had some good moves. For someone so small and weak and untrained.”

  “I was angry. And scared.”

  “Scared? Of me?”

  “I’m not sure. Scared of everything. Of the Scouts drowning. Of this whole magical world. Of your hooves. Particularly your hooves.”

  “I kicked you, didn’t I? Are you hurt?”

  “Yeah. I’ve got a big bruise on my leg.”

  She looked at him again. He was staring at her now, frowning.

  She rubbed
her leg and winced. “But I think I got off lightly, for someone who fought a centaur. I should have trusted you. I am sorry for that. I won’t doubt my friends again, I promise. Do you forgive me?”

  “Forgive you for what? For doubting Rona? For making her lose the task? For fighting me? For beating me? For embarrassing me?” he roared at the top of his voice, and Helen had to make an effort not to step away from him.

  “Em. Yes. For all of that. Do you forgive me?”

  “Of course. You were doing what you believed was right, even though it was wrong. And you were much better at fighting than I expected, which is yet another reason for me to be proud you’re my friend. Of course I forgive you. Do you forgive me for kicking you?”

  “Yes. And for being an arrogant idiot, who would rather fight than finish a sentence. If you had told me …”

  “If you had listened …”

  They stared at each other, and Yann laughed. He held out his hand. Helen smiled, and shook it. “Good,” he said, “we don’t even need a tug-of-war to make peace.”

  “Just as well,” said Helen, “because you would definitely beat me at that!”

  He laughed again. “Let’s head back to Taltomie. Do you want a lift?”

  “I’ll have to row. I can’t leave the boat here. And I need to apologise to Catesby and Lavender too when we get back, because I completely ignored them when they flew after me.”

  “Catesby and Lavender didn’t go back to the campsite, not while I was on the way here,” Yann said. “Aren’t they with Rona?”

  “No. The last time I saw them was at the cliffs, just before the storm started … Yann! I haven’t seen them since Rona sang up a storm!”

  Yann was pale. “Neither have I!”

  “Do you think they’ve been blown away?”

  Yann looked out to sea again. “I hope not. I’ll search along the shore, you search along the water’s edge, and we’ll both head for the campsite as fast as we can. If they aren’t there, we’ll have to ask the selkies to search for them at sea …”

  He trotted off, looking anxiously at tussocks of grass, and Helen rowed away, checking the shallow water and the shoreline.

  Then she found a single copper feather. The adult feather Catesby had been so proud of it. Floating on the surface of the sea. She picked it up, and rowed back to the campsite.