Sea Horses: the Last Secret

by Louise Cooper

  The Last Secret

  Born in Hertfordshire, England, on 29 May 1952, Louise Cooper describes herself as ‘a typical scatterbrained Gemini’. She spent most of her school years writing stories when she should have been concentrating on lessons, and her first fantasy novel, The Book of Paradox, was published in 1973, when she was just twenty years old. Since then she has published more than sixty books for adults and children.

  Louise now lives in Cornwall with her husband, Cas Sandall. When she isn’t writing, she enjoys singing (and playing various instruments), cooking, gardening and ‘messing about on the beach’, and – just to make sure she keeps busy – she is also treasurer of her local Royal National Lifeboat Institution branch.

  Visit Louise at her own website at

  www.louisecooper.com.

  In the same series

  1. Sea Horses

  2. Sea Horses: The Talisman

  3. Sea Horses: Gathering Storm

  4. Sea Horses: The Last Secret

  The Last Secret

  Louise Cooper

  PUFFIN

  PUFFIN BOOKS

  Published by the Penguin Group

  Penguin Books Ltd, 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England

  Penguin Group (USA), Inc., 375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014, USA

  Penguin Books Australia Ltd, 250 Camberwell Road, Camberwell, Victoria 3124, Australia

  Penguin Books Canada Ltd, 10 Alcorn Avenue, Toronto, Ontario, Canada M4V 3B2

  Penguin Books India (P) Ltd, 11 Community Centre, Panchsheel Park, New Delhi – 110017, India

  Penguin Books (NZ), cnr Airborne and Rosedale Roads, Albany, Auckland 1310, New Zealand

  Penguin Books (South Africa) (Pty) Ltd, 24 Sturdee Avenue, Rosebank 2196, South Africa

  Penguin Books Ltd, Registered Offices: 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England

  www.penguin.com

  First published 2005

  1

  Text copyright © Louise Cooper, 2005

  All rights reserved

  The moral right of the author and illustrator has been asserted

  Except in the United States of America, this book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, re-sold, hired out, or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser

  British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data

  A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library

  978-0-14-193730-4

  For Hannah Daysh and Hannah Levene, who allowed me to borrow their names but – as far as I know – don’t have purple metallic bikes!

  Guard this stone that prisons me,

  For if it should be cast away,

  Then I shall come from surging sea

  And turn your world to stormy grey.

  ‘There is a legend,’ said Nan quietly, ‘about two spirits that once haunted this coast. They were known as the Blue Horse and the Grey Horse, and they came from the sea. The Blue Horse brought fair weather, and protected the sailors and fishermen. But the Grey Horse was cruel. He brought storms and treacherous tides, and took delight in wrecking ships and drowning the men on board.

  ‘At last, the two spirits fought a terrible battle. There were gales and huge, raging tides, and the people of the coast were terrified that the Grey Horse would win and destroy them all. But one fisherman’s family was not afraid. They joined forces with the Blue Horse, and between them they overcame the Grey Horse and defeated him.

  ‘When the battle was over and the people were safe, an old, wise woman of the fisherman’s family carved a little stone statue. The evil power of the Grey Horse was imprisoned in the statue, and the family pledged to keep it for always.’ Nan turned a piercing gaze on Tamzin. ‘They were our ancestors. For the legend says that if the statue should ever be broken, the dark spirit will be released again.’

  Silence fell. Then, in a quavering voice, Tamzin whispered, ‘And I broke it…’

  chapter one

  ‘The thing about summer,’ said Joel Richards, sissing between his teeth to get rid of flying horsehair, ‘is that you get the best of both worlds. Long evenings and no school!’

  Tamzin Weston grinned at him over the smooth brown back of Lark, who was standing patiently to be groomed. ‘I know. And this is just the first day of the holidays.

  Dandy, the piebald pony Joel was grooming, swished his tail irritably and stamped a fore hoof, narrowly missing Joel’s toes. Joel skipped out of the way, then put down his body brush.

  ‘Come on,’ he said. ‘They’ll do. They’re booked out soon anyway, and there’re better things than spending all day grooming.’

  Tamzin looked at her watch as they led the ponies towards the tack room to saddle them up, ready for the riding stables’ customers. ‘I’ll have to go soon anyway. Nan’ll have tea ready, then we’re going to the village this evening, to see the Carnival Queen competition.’

  ‘Oh, yes, I’d forgotten that.’ Joel paused, then added carelessly, ‘I might come along after all. Any chance of a lift, if your nan’s taking her car?’

  She gave him a shrewd look. ‘You said the Carnival Queen was all little kids’ stuff! Just because you’re at secondary school –’

  ‘It is little kids’ stuff!’ Joel protested.

  ‘But… well, if our horses are going to pull the Queen’s carriage in the Carnival parade, I’ve got to make sure they choose someone halfway decent, haven’t I?’

  Tamzin laughed, making Dandy jump.

  ‘All right. We’ll pick you up on the way. I’ll tell Nan you’re really excited!’

  She dodged the mock swipe he aimed at her, and went to fetch Lark’s saddle and bridle.

  Half an hour later Tamzin left the stables to walk back to Chapel Cottage, where her nan lived. The cottage was in the long valley that led from the stables to the local beach, and as she reached the path Tamzin paused and looked back at the Richardses’ fields. Those horses that weren’t booked for a ride this afternoon were grazing in the furthest paddock. From here they looked like toy animals against the bright green of the grass. But Tamzin’s heart ached as she gazed at them. Because one pony – one very special pony – was no longer there.

  ‘Moonlight…’

  She murmured the name to herself, as she often did. Moonlight had been purest white, with just a hint of dapples, and he had been far more to her than merely a favourite pony. From the day she first met him, soon after her arrival in Cornwall, he had become her companion and her dearest friend. It didn’t matter that he had belonged to the Richardses; to Tamzin, it was as if he was hers and hers alone.

  But she knew now that Moonlight had never belonged to anyone. For she and Joel had discovered the truth about him – that he was not an ordinary, mortal creature, but the living spirit of the Blue Horse. Three months ago, Tamzin had found an ancient spell that allowed Moonlight to become his real self once more, and now he was gone, back to the sea from where he came. But he had left a gift behind for her, and Tamzin touched a small piece of blue-green glass that hung from a silver bracelet on her wrist. Three fragments of a talisman, fused together by the Blue Horse’s magic. It was herprotection against another and darker magic – that of the evil Grey Horse.

  The Blue and Grey Horses were ancient enemies. For centuries the Grey Horse’s spirit had been safely bound and shut away inside a small stone statue. But last autumn, when she had first come to stay with Nan, Tamzin had done a terrible thing. Guard this stone that prisons me… She recalled the words of the old rhyme written in Nan�
�s family Bible. She should have guarded the statue, as her ancestors had done. But instead she had broken it, and the Grey Horse had been set free. Unless she could defeat and imprison it again, Tamzin was in danger. Three times now she had been faced with the deadly power of the Grey Horse, and each time the Blue Horse had saved her. Though Moonlight was no longer here, the talisman reminded her that his spirit still watched over her, and that when she needed him, he would come to her again.

  The scene misted over suddenly, andTamzin blinked away the tears that had welled in her eyes. Then, with a final look at the field and the grazing horses, she turned and hurried on down the valley path.

  The Carnival Queen competition was being held outdoors at the village sports field. There was music and a marquee, and everyone crossed their fingers that it wouldn’t rain. So far, the summer had been dull, windy and all too often wet. But though the evening was cold and cloudy, it stayed dry.

  ‘The forecast says it’s going to get better soon,’ Joel said as he and Tamzin got out of Nan’s little car.

  ‘I hope so!’ Tamzin shivered under her fleece, wishing she had put on an extra layer of clothes.

  ‘I feel sorry for the holiday visitors,’ said Joel. ‘There are loads arriving every day – bet they wish they’d gone to Spain or somewhere else instead.’

  Nan had stopped to talk to someone she knew, so they left her to it and hurried across the field to where the Carnival Queen competitors were getting ready for the judging. They were all girls from the village school, and one, who had wonderful long, red-gold hair, waved as she saw Tamzin and Joel.

  ‘There’s Hannah!’ Tamzin waved back. ‘Oh, I do hope she wins!’

  ‘What, you mean you’re friends with Hannah Roskear?’ Joel teased. ‘She doesn’t know one end of a horse from the other!’

  ‘Oh, shut up! Horses aren’t the only thing I’m interested in. Anyway –’ Tamzin’s expression changed suddenly – ‘at least she isn’t like Marga.’

  Joel’s face sobered too as he remembered Christmas, and the mysterious new girl at the school who had brought them so close to disaster.∗ Hannah had been born in the villageand her father was a fisherman. She certainly was not like Marga…

  He was about to say sorry, but the words were drowned as the local Silver Band started to play. The band was very good, and the music was cheerful and lively; by the time they finished the first tune and started a second, Marga was forgotten. They played three numbers, then the vicar stepped up to a microphone in front of the marquee and the judging of the Queen began.

  The girls paraded twice before six finalists were chosen. They were all wearing summer clothes and they looked frozen. Hannah was one of the six, and Tamzin could have sworn her teeth were chattering. The band played another number while the judges muttered and nodded among themselves. Then finally the moment came for the winner to be announced.

  ‘I’m delighted to tell you all,’ said the vicar over the crackling PA, ‘that this year’sCarnival Queen is… Hannah Roskear!’

  Hannah squealed with delight, and everyone else cheered and applauded. As soon as she could, Tamzin ran to the marquee and gave Hannah a huge hug.

  ‘I knew you’d do it!’ she cried. ‘Brilliant!’

  Joel, who had followed, added his congratulations, then tugged Hannah’s hair and called her Queen of the Carrots. Hannah pulled a hideous face at him and he added, ‘I dare you to do that in the Carnival parade!’

  ‘I’d scare your horses!’ Hannah quipped back. ‘So, which one’s going to pull my carriage, then? It’d better be up to a Queen’s standards!’

  Tamzin felt a small pang. Joel had told her that in previous years Moonlight had always been the Carnival Queen’s pony. But that could never happen again.

  Joel knew what she was thinking and gave her hand a private squeeze.

  ‘Don’t worry,’ he said wickedly to Hannah, ‘we’ll make sure we pick one that’s excitable and difficult – just like you!’

  The joking and teasing continued, and Tamzin’s sad moment passed by and was gone. Then later, when Hannah had been whisked away by her proud parents, Joel said, ‘Why didn’t you go in for the competition? I reckon you’d have won hands down.’

  Tamzin was delighted by the compliment, though she tried not to show it. ‘I wouldn’t,’ she said. ‘Anyway, I don’t think it would have been right. I mean, I’m not really local, am I? I’m only here for a year. Mum and Dad will be back from Canada at the end of the summer and then I’ll be going home.’

  She smiled wistfully as a familiar, torn feeling came back. She missed her parents very much and couldn’t wait to see them again. But when the time came to go back to the city, leaving Cornwall would be hard. Living with Nan had been wonderful. She had made such good friends. She had had so many adventures.

  And there was something she still had to do. For the Grey Horse was not yet defeated. The Blue Horse was strong enough now to hold its evil power at bay. But Tamzin knew that the stalemate wouldn’t last forever. The Grey Horse would be back. And if she had to leave Cornwall before the danger was finally resolved, what then? What would become of them all?

  She was jolted out of her private thoughts by Joel’s voice.

  ‘Oh, well,’ he said, ‘if you’re not going to be the Carnival Queen, at least you’ll be in the procession.’

  ‘Will I?’ Tamzin was surprised.

  ‘Course you will. Didn’t I tell you? The Queen always has two mounted attendants.’ He grinned. ‘That’s us!’

  ‘Oh!’ Tamzin blinked. ‘What do we have to do?’

  ‘Dress up in costumes and ride ahead of the carriage, shouting, “Make way for HerMajesty!” and stuff like that. It’s a laugh. I usually do it, and Mum thought that this year it would be fun for you to join in. Are you up for it?’

  ‘Yes!’ Tamzin was thrilled. ‘I can’t wait to tell Nan!’

  ‘Well, there she is.’ Joel pointed across the field. ‘Come on. Let’s go and see if she’s got any ideas for our costumes!’

  Tamzin’s parents rang that evening. Tamzin was bubbling with the news of the Carnival and her part in it, and when she hung up the phone she gave an enormous yawn. Nan laughed.

  ‘You’ve exhausted yourself with all this excitement,’ she said. ‘And only the first day of the holidays too – I can’t imagine what you’ll be like by the end of them!’

  ‘I am tired,’ Tamzin admitted. ‘I think I’ll go to bed.’

  ‘You do that.’ Nan’s eyes twinkled. ‘I’vegot a picture to work on, so I wouldn’t mind a peaceful evening!’

  ‘What are you painting?’ Tamzin asked. ‘Is it another horse?’

  ‘No, not this time. It’s a portrait of someone’s two-year-old twins.’ Nan was a professional artist and sometimes took commissions. ‘Spoilt little monsters they are too. I’m glad it’s nearly finished.’

  ‘Poor Nan!’ Tamzin grinned sympathetically. ‘Night, then. See you in the morning.’

  Her bedroom overlooked the garden, which was shadowy now, though there was still some daylight in the sky. Baggins, Nan’s fluffy black cat, was curled up on the duvet. He wasn’t supposed to go into bedrooms, but since Tamzin arrived the rule had been relaxed. He greeted her with a miaow, then rolled on to his back for his tummy to be stroked.

  Tamzin stroked him, then got into bed. Before she lay down, she turned to look at alarge painting on her wall. It was one of Nan’s, and it showed a moonlit sea with a white horse galloping out of the waves. Everything about the painting was blue; even the horse had a blue tinge to its coat, and Tamzin smiled a wistful smile. The Blue Horse. Moonlight… Nan understood. She always had.

  She switched off the bedside lamp, snuggled under the duvet and closed her eyes.

  chapter two

  Tamzin knew she was dreaming but she couldn’t make herself wake up. She often dreamed about Moonlight – strange, sad dreams in which she searched endlessly for him, calling his name over and over again but never finding him. This dream,
though, was different. In it she was running desperately through cold, windy darkness, while behind her – she couldn’t see it, but somehow she knew – a tidal wave was rising and threatening to overwhelm her. She had had this nightmare several times before, but tonight it had changed. Though the tidal wave threatenedher, it was vague somehow, like something only dimly remembered. And there was a new element – a huge rock in the middle of the sea, with waves crashing and surging around it. Tamzin knew the rock in the real world as well as in her dream. Known locally as Lion Rock, it towered a mile out to sea beyond the beach. When the wind howled, people said, ‘The Lion’s roaring.’ Now, in the nightmare, it roared like a hundred lions, the noise dinning and echoing in Tamzin’s head as she ran and ran and ran, while a terrible weight seemed to drag at her feet and pin them to the ground. And above the noise of the wind and the sea, she seemed to hear a voice calling to her, over and over again, Find me! Find me! Find me!

  She was glad to wake up to a room filled with daylight. The dream was gone, and Tamzin laughed as she realized that the weight on her feet was Baggins, who was solidly asleep on top of them.

  She got out of bed (Baggins didn’t even notice) and opened the curtains.

  Disappointingly, the sky was cloudy again, and she could tell from the bushes in the garden that it was windy too. She could hear the sea faintly – a deep, steady rumble as big breakers rolled in and broke on the sand. The lion would be roaring today.

  Noises downstairs told her that Nan was up and getting breakfast. Tamzin was hungry and dressed quickly. As she dressed, she thought about Lion Rock. At Easter there had been a series of earth tremors in the district. They had been the Grey Horse’s doing and had set off the terrifying chain of events that had led to Moonlight’s transformation. But when it was over, there had been other changes – for Lion Rock had split apart, and where before there had been a single crag, now there were two. Local people were eager to go out to the rock and see the changes at close quarters. But for months now the sea had been too rough forany boats to be launched from the beach, and all anyone could do was look and wonder from a distance. When the weather improved, it would be different. And something was nagging at Tamzin, fuelled by her dream. That voice, crying, Find me… She couldn’t shake off the feeling that it was the voice of the Blue Horse, calling urgently to her. And the reason for its call lay out there at Lion Rock.