by Lari Don
Rona nodded, pulled the map from Helen’s hands, hauled herself out from behind the rock and slid into the water.
The judge watched Rona swim out of the inlet, then walked into the cave. Helen held her breath. What would he find? A centaur? A sea-through? A fairy? A phoenix?
But her friends and enemy must have had time to hide, because soon the judge sauntered back out, picked up his bag, then dived into the sea.
A couple of minutes later the sea-through stumbled out, clutching the coral to its chest, and splashed into the water. Helen hoped it wouldn’t catch up with Rona.
Finally, Yann, Lavender and Catesby came out, blinking in the morning light.
“Where’s the eel?” asked Helen.
Yann grinned. “It’s still out cold, but it’s back in the pool. The judge kicked it in, presumably so it wouldn’t dry out.”
“What if it wakes up in a bad mood, and eats a tourist?” Then Helen looked up the path. “That’s probably why the judge left the sign.”
They walked up the steps to a notice written in deep blue ink:
Don’t go down to the cave today,
Or you’ll get a big surprise.
Don’t go down to the cave today,
Or you’d better go in disguise.
Don’t go down to the cave today …
Finish the rhyme in seven words or less, prize for best entry! (But PLEASE DON’T go down to the cave today, or we won’t be responsible for your safety.)
Helen laughed, and started thinking of rhymes about the eel’s cold eyes, as Yann took them home, at a canter rather than a gallop.
“Did you look at the map?” Lavender asked. “Do you know where Rona’s going?”
“No, I didn’t have time.” Helen explained about the sea-through attacking her.
“Of course. I should have thought of that,” said Lavender, annoyed with herself. “The sea-through couldn’t help Tangaroa on a quest far inland, and there was no point helping Serena because if she wins the result would be a tie. I should have realised it would try to stop Rona again. I hope it’s not caught up with her.”
“She has a good headstart, and it didn’t see the map so it doesn’t know where she’s going,” said Yann. “She’ll be fine. All she has to do is follow the map, get the holder and come home. She’ll be quite safe …”
Chapter 26
Rona swam northeast, still feeling guilty about letting Helen go into the cave for her. At least she was doing the last part of the quest herself, following the map to a wreck far off the coast.
She was sprinting at top speed because she’d no idea how well the others were doing. She’d pretended to work out her riddle, and dived off the start rock before either of the others, but they can’t have been far behind, so they might have defeated their guardians and be on the way to their holders too.
Rona knew the cheating at the cave didn’t guarantee she’d win; it just gave her a chance she wouldn’t have had otherwise, because she could never have walked towards the guardian the way Helen had.
Rona smiled a wide seal smile. Helen thought she was an ordinary human girl with extraordinary friends. But Rona knew Helen was the most amazing of them all: accepting their magic, understanding their fear of humans, generous with her music and medical skills, and taking risks to protect her friends and their world. Rona decided she would write a new song for Helen, not to win a competition, nor to sing up a storm, but just to say thank you.
She was near the wreck now. She lunged up to the surface, and breathed deep, taking as much oxygen as her tired body could store.
The map, which she’d memorised then ripped to pieces and fed to a shoal of herring so the sea-through couldn’t find it and follow her, hadn’t shown her what the herald’s holder actually was. She had to work that out for herself when she got to the wreck. Another riddle.
She breathed out, closed her nostrils, and dived.
Below her, she saw an unnatural shape on the seabed.
A wreck. But not a shipwreck.
A plane. Like a bird’s shadow, but with one wing broken off.
She’d seen fighter planes and bombers on military exercises above Cape Wrath, confident no one lived there, not realising how close their bullets and bombs were to selkie colonies and pups.
This wasn’t a fighter plane. It was far too big. As she got closer, she saw a huge hinged door at the back. It was some kind of cargo plane. It might be filled with all the goods it had been carrying. Her fur bristled as she realised it might even be filled with the people who had been flying it.
She reached the massive back door.
She twitched her whiskers nervously, reminded herself that she’d been a wimp at Smoo Cave in order to save her bravery for here, and swam into the plane.
It was empty. No bombs or crates of food or drowned human beings. Just a vast water-filled tube of metal. Every surface was encrusted with the growths which move in when something from land or air falls into water. The wreck must have been here since one of the human wars which brought so many soldiers and sinkings to the north coast.
Rona swam up the left side of the plane, seeing nothing which could hold a message. She flicked herself through a swinging door at the front end of the plane, into a small room filled with seats, levers, wheels and a wide glass window looking out at the darkened sea.
This must be where the humans sat to fly the plane. There were a couple of metal boxes, open and rusting, and a leather satchel hanging on the back of one of the webbing chairs. Rona flapped the bag open. Inside was a book, so waterlogged that when she pulled it out the pages fell apart, a handful of old metal-nibbed pens, and a glass bottle with a ceramic stopper.
A bottle.
Rona laughed.
A message in a bottle. It was the perfect holder.
She grasped the bottle awkwardly under her fin, then had a better idea. She put it back in the satchel, which she slipped onto her back, then turned to leave the plane.
She swam into the empty cargo space. Then stopped. And reversed very fast into the flying room at the front.
Of course. There had been a guardian for the map. There was a guardian for the holder too.
Rona poked her head round again.
The view was still the same.
Black and white. Smooth body. Sharp teeth.
Flags didn’t have sharp teeth. This time it wasn’t a mistake.
There was a killer whale swimming up and down the water-filled plane, blocking her way out.
Her friends had saved her from fighting an eel in a cave, then sent her off alone to face a killer whale on a plane.
Rona slumped her seal body into the pilot’s chair, and tried to think.
She had at least ten minutes of oxygen left in her blood. Enough time to think for five minutes then swim for five. That would get her to the surface. But only if she could get past the whale.
She looked round the door. There was only one whale. Killer whales usually hunted in pods, in families of half a dozen or more. They didn’t often hunt alone. However, one guardian was more appropriate for a quest. It gave the contestant a chance.
But not much of a chance. The killer whale was bigger, stronger and faster in a straight line than her. It couldn’t manoeuvre as quickly, but in the empty plane, there was nothing for Rona to hide behind and not enough space for underwater gymnastics to confuse or evade the whale.
She peeked out again. It was patrolling the length of the plane, its body undulating up and down, a motion unlike any fish, a motion which sent terror along her spine. This was the monster from selkies’ bedtime stories. Rona’s worst nightmare.
When it turned at the end to come back, its body nearly spanned the width of the plane, the largest cargo this plane had ever carried. Rona was almost hypnotised by the shimmering markings on its fat sleek body. Fat and sleek from eating seal meat.
As it swam towards Rona, it saw her and grinned, showing off its long sharp yellow teeth jutting up through its thick pink jaws. S
eal-ripping teeth. Seal-crunching jaws.
She jerked back into the small metal room, and slammed the door shut. If this was a war plane, they must have had weapons. She frantically opened all the cupboards and the contents floated out: charts, a compass, hats, gloves. No human guns, selkie spears or blue-man knives.
The whole plane juddered. The whale was banging its head against the thin wall which separated them, trying to hurry her out, or to break in and drag her out.
Rona swam up to the ceiling then down to the floor. Surely the pilots had an emergency exit! Or their bodies would still be trapped here, wouldn’t they?
Then, under the middle seat, she saw something bright red, something sharp.
An axe.
Rona brushed a starfish from its smooth surface. “For fire and emergency only” it said on the handle. Rona tugged it free with her fins.
There was another thump at the door. The whale was getting impatient for its breakfast.
Rona had to decide how she was leaving this plane. As a seal or a girl?
She was faster and more agile as a seal. But whales ate seals, and humans killed whales. A human with an axe might take the whale by surprise. And hands were more useful for tools.
She slipped out of her skin, shoved it into the satchel, and stretched her long human arms. She felt an immediate thirst for air. She would drown if she didn’t turn back into a seal or get to the surface fast. But she had a killer whale to get past first. So she grasped the bright red axe.
She kicked open the door, hitting the whale on the nose. And swam out, whirling the axe in front of her.
The killer whale backed away, surprised. It had come to eat a nice juicy seal, and suddenly a human whacked it in the face and waved a metal weapon at it.
She swam at it again, but this time the whale didn’t move back. It edged forward. So she slashed at its face with the axe.
The whale grinned its dolphin grin, ducked its head, clicked at her in clear submission and eased sideways out of her way.
That was easy, thought Rona, as she swam past the whale’s harlequin body and towards the hole at the end of the plane.
Then she felt the water shift behind her as the whale spun round and lunged at her legs.
Rona somersaulted in the water, flipping herself up to the roof of the plane, and saw the treacherous whale swerve to follow her.
She aimed the axe and threw it two-handed with all her strength straight at the killer whale’s mouth. She heard a thunk as the axe struck the whale’s jaw, and saw one tooth spin out of its mouth. The whale hung in shock in the water, and Rona sprinted away.
As she dived out of the plane, a merman judge nodded to her, and flapped a black and white flag at the entrance. Hoping that was a signal to the guardian that its job was done, Rona aimed for the brightness above.
She felt the lack of oxygen in her blood, lights were flickering at the edge of her vision, but she kept forcing herself up.
Finally she broke the surface, and breathed the sweet warm air.
She had to change into her seal self and swim back to the island. She circled round to find the southeast bearing which would get her home. She was putting her hand in the satchel to get out her skin, when she saw the surface of the water in front of her shiver and dimple.
She recognised that water pattern. It meant something was coming upwards through the sea so fast it was distorting the water above it.
Rona scooted sideways.
And the killer whale shot vertically out of the water.
Its sudden arrival showered her with spray; its open smiling mouth just missed her.
But it wouldn’t miss again. This killer whale was determined to eat her. To throw her in the air, bat her with its tail and play with her like a toy, until it was bored and she was dead. Then it would eat her.
Here was her nightmare, splashing down into the water, just a few metres away.
Rona had her skin in her hand, but there was no point in changing. She couldn’t outswim this predator. But she couldn’t just give up. She hadn’t finished the quest.
The whale spy-hopped, head out of the water, checking where she was, then dropped down and began to swim straight for her.
Rona shoved the skin back in the satchel, and wrapped her shaking hand round the pens rolling in the bottom of the wet bag, hoping they were all pointing the same way.
As the whale rocketed towards her on the surface, she raised her hand out of the water, a tight bundle of sharp pens poking out of her fist. Just before the whale reached her, she jinked to the side. The whale swung its head to follow her, and she jabbed at its eye with the nibs of all the pens.
Rona didn’t hit the small dark target straight on, so the metal nibs scraped across the whale’s eye, sliding off onto the thick rubbery skin.
But the killer whale squealed. An oddly high-pitched noise from such a large beast, like a child’s whistle.
Rona hadn’t succeeded in blinding the whale, but she had hurt it enough to distract it from the chase. It veered away from her, shrieking and slapping the water with its huge flat tail.
Rona didn’t wait around to see if its family would answer its calls, nor if the judge would come up to see who’d survived the killer whale’s rule-breaking.
She dived into her sealskin, turned her back on the moaning whale, and sprinted even faster than when she beat Tangaroa, towards the safety of her own island.
As she swam, Rona wondered if Yann had been right. Maybe they hadn’t needed to cheat. Maybe she could have fought an eel on her own. Because eels couldn’t be nearly as scary as killer whales …
Chapter 27
Yann and his passengers arrived at Taltomie, and Helen ran into the tent to change out of the selkie dress and put on a pair of unchewed trainers. Then she rowed everyone over to Eilan nan MacCodrum to see who had won.
They found a tense group of families, friends and elders, with tattoos, fishtails and sealskin cloaks, waiting on the shore.
There was no sign of the contestants.
Helen started to worry. “Why isn’t Rona back yet? Is the holder a long way away? Or is there more to the quest than just following the map to collect it …?”
There was a shout from a selkie boy keeping a lookout on the highest point of the island, and the groups of supporters peered out to sea.
A sleek head rose from the water, an elegant shape swam through the waves, and everyone was silent as the first competitor back clambered onto the rocks.
Rona raised a green bottle high in the air, to delighted cheers from the selkies and polite applause from the blue men and mermaids.
Helen screamed in surprise, then hugged Yann, while Lavender and Catesby pirouetted in the air.
There was a flurry of foam as Tangaroa jumped out, waving another green bottle, then he saw Rona, and sank down in despairing exhaustion. Five minutes later, Serena swam up, but when she saw the others there already, she turned and swam off again, until her aunt fetched her back to congratulate Rona.
Helen sighed. “Rona won! The sea-through lost! She’s the Sea Herald. It’s all over.”
But Lavender shook her head. “The bloom won’t give up.”
Yann agreed. “We have to assume the bloom will send the sea-through to attack Rona tomorrow as she delivers the message. And I don’t know how we can protect her out there.”
They all looked at the Atlantic Ocean, stretching to the horizon and beyond.
Selkies love holding feasts, Helen decided, as she munched another crunchy fishfinger. The crowd had been very enthusiastic when Helen and Rona performed together at the start of the feast, and now everyone was eating fancy seafood again. Rona was at the top table, looking tired, but also proud of the new chain of office round her neck.
The seating arrangements were similar to the Storm Singer feast, but this time the mermaids and blue loons were quiet and subdued. Serena and Tangaroa were both as exhausted as Rona, and neither of them had victory to give them energy. The feasting selkies
were being a bit too loud and proud about their contestant’s victory for the losers to relax and enjoy the food.
The only selkie who didn’t look pleased was Sinclair. He’d snapped at Roxburgh so loudly for spilling a jug of water that everyone looked round, and Roxburgh turned bright red and sank lower in his seat. Helen noticed Roxburgh didn’t eat or drink anything else until his dad went to the top table to speak to Strathy, and to pat Rona on the shoulder with a stretched smile on his face.
“The sea-through’s team are all looking pretty wretched,” said Yann. “Maybe the bloom doesn’t have a plan for tomorrow after all.”
After the third fish course, Rona came down to their table. “I’m falling asleep in this warm cave. Let’s go and breathe some sea air.”
So they rowed out to the beach, where Yann insisted on showing them the deep marks made by the blue loons as he pulled them along the beach during the tug-of-war. As Yann was pacing out his triumph for the girls, a familiar voice said, “Yes. We’ve all been well beaten this week.”
Yann galloped up to stand protectively over Rona, but Tangaroa just sat down beside her. “I wanted to say well done, without all the fancy words my elders expect me to use. Anyone who can answer riddles that fast, swim that far, and overcome all their obvious fears to pass two guardians, deserves to be Sea Herald. Good for you, Rona.”
Helen looked at him in the warm glow of Lavender’s lightballs. He didn’t seem angry, just tired.
“What about finding your way home?” she asked. “Aren’t you upset about losing your chance to ask the powers where you’re from?”
“I have at least three other ideas for finding the right island, none of which involve rhymes or tattoos, so I’ll just keep trying.” He shrugged and smiled at Rona. “So what did you fight then?”
Rona bit her lip, and Helen had a horrible feeling she was about to confess, so Helen said firmly, “There was a giant eel in a cave and a killer whale on a plane. You?”