by Robin Jarvis
'Do not worry,' came the voice of Sister Bridget as she joined them. 'Look—the boat has changed course.'
Gradually the small aufwader vessel came closer. It was Hesper who had seen them and she gazed curiously at the tall figure dressed in white.
Miss Boston let out a great breath of relief and wrapped the scarf about her neck once more. Eagerly she waited as the boat drew near. 'How splendid,' she cooed when she discerned the two strange figures beside Ben. She had never before had the chance to examine an aufwader closely, and it was a thrilling prospect. The craft bumped against the side of the pier far below and Aunt Alice stooped and glanced over the side. 'Oh, what a pity,' she tutted in disappointment. To her the fisher folk were still blurred and fuzzy. 'Botheration,' she tutted.
Jennet had watched the boat approach with mounting concern. The poor girl could not see the aufwaders at all; the only things real to her were Ben and the boat. She had no idea how the vessel was being steered or how the oars moved through the water. Her brother looked up at her and waved cheerfully. 'Just you wait,' she muttered under her breath. 'I'll teach you to run off like that.'
Miss Boston pattered along the pier to where iron rungs were set into the stone. 'Come up here, you little marvels,' she shouted at the fisher folk.
Hesper and Nelda stared up at the old lady and the girl on the pier. Nelda was not sure if this was such a good idea. She leaned over to her aunt and said, 'We waste precious time here. I still do not see why you were so set on this—the moonkelp must be our main concern.'
'So it is,' Hesper replied, 'so it is.' She gave her niece the oars and stood up in the boat to see if she could get a peek at the figure who had so fired her interest. Above her, Sister Bridget appeared and gazed down. 'As I thought,' nodded Hesper. 'Look, Nelda. Now do you see?'
Nelda looked at the novice and immediately saw the faint shimmering aura that surrounded her. Confused, she turned to her aunt for an answer to this riddle.
'Behold the daughter of Oona,' Hesper announced, 'after all this time. Hurry, Nelda, take us to the ladder.'
The oars dipped into the sea and swiftly Nelda brought the boat alongside the lowest rung. Hesper checked that her lifebelt was secure then clambered up. Ben was not sure if he should follow. He was certain that if he tried to stand up in the boat it would probably capsize.
'Delighted to meet you,' chatted Miss Boston as Hesper climbed up beside her. 'And whom do I have the honour of addressing, may I ask?'
'There is no time for that,' interrupted Sister Bridget suddenly. 'Only an hour remains. I must take your place in the boat.' She brushed past Hesper and began to climb down the ladder.
The aufwader fell to her knees and called after her, 'Eska, Eska—you must not venture on the open sea!'
Sister Bridget paused in the descent and threw her head back. The face she turned to her was pale but grim. 'I no longer recognise that name,' she said, trembling. 'For many years I have been Bridget and that I will remain—whatever happens.' She looked away and concentrated on the rungs of the ladder once more.
When she reached the bottom, the novice glanced at the deep water all around and shuddered. Nelda and Ben stared at her from the boat in surprise. 'Are you really the daughter of Oona?' asked Nelda.
'For my sins,' she returned solemnly. 'Now hold the craft steady and make room for me.'
Nelda and Ben squashed themselves against the sides of the boat. 'You coming with us, then?' asked the boy.
Clinging to the ladder with one hand. Sister Bridget crossed herself and replied, 'If my courage allows.' With her heart pounding in her breast, she reached out her foot and stepped into the aufwader vessel.
Ben gripped the sides in alarm as the boat rocked uncontrollably. Sister Bridget cast her eyes despairingly upon the surrounding water. For the first time in her long life she was putting herself at the mercy of the waves. It was a chilling sensation. She knew full well the consequences if she were to fall in—the Lords of the Deep would claim her.
'Hurry, child,' she called to Nelda. 'I shall be your guide now.'
Nelda put the oars into the water and struggled to pull away from the pier. High over their heads Jennet called to her brother, 'Be careful, Ben!' He gave an answering shout and the boat sailed out on to the dark wide sea.
Miss Boston put her arm around the girl's neck. 'Don't worry, dear,' she said. 'He is in excellent hands.'
Hesper stamped her foot with irritation. 'All this time I have wandered the shores to find it!' she snorted. 'Now I shall never see the moonkelp.'
They watched the little craft move away, so engrossed that they failed to hear the footsteps which approached from behind.
Miss Boston smiled at the blurred shape next to her. 'You have played your part,' she told the aufwader. 'Now it is up to them.'
'All the same,' added Hesper quietly, 'I would wish that Eska had remained here—the sea is no place for her.'
Miss Boston disagreed. 'Oh no,' she replied mildly, 'she had to go. Not just because she knew where to find the moonkelp, you understand. No, Sister Bridget has endured her entire life for this one night—it's what she was born for. I pray she survives.'
Hesper bowed her head. 'Poor Oona, I wish she had brought her daughter to me—I would have gladly left the tribe to look after her.'
'Things are as they should be,' muttered Aunt Alice darkly.
Jennet had taken her eyes from the boat which was now in the distance and had been listening to this exchange with growing annoyance. To her it was a one-sided conversation. Not only could she not see Hesper, but all that she said escaped her hearing.
'What a charming little scene,' a sneering voice broke in.
The three of them whirled round. Silhouetted against the lights of Whitby was Rowena Cooper.
13 - Struggle At Sea
The woman was dressed in black robes which were tied round the middle by a thick purple cord. On a chain about her neck she wore a five-pointed star that gleamed against the midnight material. She played with the amethyst ring on her finger and mocked the group before her, laughing at the dismay on their faces.
'A child, a shore vagrant and a senile old woman,' she spat contemptuously. 'What a ridiculous combination.'
Hesper moved forward, bewildered. 'Yet another human with the sight,' she said. 'Is the gift not as rare as once it was?'
Miss Boston put her hand on the aufwader's shoulder. 'Beware,' she whispered, then cleared her throat and said aloud, 'I do believe Mrs Cooper is showing her true colours at last. What do you think. Jennet? A little too crude for my taste, perhaps, but then what can one expect from a black witch?'
'A witch?' repeated Jennet and she gaped at Rowena. The woman seemed to have grown. In her black robes, she was like a great dark cloud. Even Aunt Alice seemed to have shrunk in comparison.
Miss Boston folded her arms. 'Oh yes,' she said. 'Mrs Cooper—though I doubt if that is her real name—has been using her treacherous arts from the moment she arrived.'
Hesper removed her oilskin hat. 'Is there such a breed left in the world of man?' she asked in astonishment.
Rowena sneered at her and moved a little closer. She was now effectively blocking the way back and they were caught between her and the end of the pier. She glared at the horizon, the boat now only a small speck upon it, and tossed her head with anger.
'They are out of your reach now,' smiled Miss Boston blithely. 'I'm so sorry, but we couldn't wait, you see.'
Rowena hissed venomously at her, 'Old crone, I am not defeated yet!' She took a step nearer, forcing them dangerously close to the pier edge—one quick shove and they would all topple backwards. The woman seemed to consider this for a moment, flexing her fingers with anticipation, but for some reason she decided against it and, instead, cupped her hands around her mouth. 'Gull!' she shrieked. 'Come here, Gull!'
Hesper clutched her hat anxiously. With wide eyes she watched as a short figure hurried along the pier towards them. The leering aufwader, knife in hand,
ran to Rowena's side and licked his brown teeth. He shot a despising glance at Hesper and wiped his nose on his sleeve. She could only stare at him, utterly horrified, as the truth dawned.
'Cat bit yer tongue, Hesper?' he asked. 'Not like you, that—always 'ad a word or three t'say, you did. Ain'tcha glad t'see me, then?'
Hesper's heart grew cold. 'Hello, Silas,' she said eventually. 'I thought you were dead.'
'Hoped I was, ya mean!' he laughed. 'But that's what I wanted yer to think.'
She looked at his gansey—it belonged to Nelda's father. 'Never was there a more loathsome worm,' she said. 'I curse the day I wed you, Silas Gull.'
He spat on the ground. 'Dunna fret yerself, me darlin'. Abe weren't worth any tears. Poked 'is nose a bit too far into my affairs—'e 'ad to be kept quiet.'
'So you took his life and robbed his clothes,' she said with disgust. 'The black boat which we burned contained my brother, yet his name has become reviled by the tribe.'
Silas chuckled maliciously. 'Hah, I 'oped it would. Serve 'im right I says, fer all them times 'e shamed me.' He grinned and added in a whisper, 'Listen to this, Hesper my love. If I 'ad the chance I would gladly throttle your 'oly brother nine times over.'
Hesper flew at him. Whipping out one of her little fishing poles she beat Silas on the side of his head.
Her husband fell back but immediately sprang to his feet and flourished the knife before him. 'No one does that t'me no more!' he yelled.
'Enough!' snapped Rowena suddenly. She seized Silas' knife and threw it into the water below. He rounded on her but the look in the witch's eyes daunted him. 'There will be time for this later,' she barked. 'But first things first.' Rowena pointed out to sea. 'Out there that halfbreed could already be claiming the wish. You must stop her!'
'What d'yer expect me t'do?' he asked. 'We ain't got no boat, 'ave we?'
'You can swim, can't you?' Rowena snarled back at him.
Silas stared at the black, uninviting water and shivered. 'I'm not goin' in theer!' he said firmly.
'You will do precisely what I command!' shouted Rowena, grabbing him by the scruff of his neck. 'I haven't put myself through all this for nothing. If we don't find it tonight then neither of our lives shall be worth living. But know this. When my husband discovers that I have been plotting behind his back, rest assured that before he arrives to tighten the leash about my neck I shall dine off your putrid flesh.' With a fierce push, she thrust him over the edge and he tumbled into the sea.
Silas floundered in the waves. His whiskers were plastered over his spluttering face and he looked like a drowned weasel. Coughing up the brine, he glowered at Rowena, hating her yet fearing her more.
'Bring the moonkelp back to me,' she called down to him.
Swearing and grumbling under his breath, Silas kicked his legs in the water and began to swim after the little boat.
'Your lackey will never reach them in time,' said Miss Boston confidently. 'You have lost.'
Rowena did not reply, directing all her powers of concentration elsewhere. She bent her thoughts towards the little aufwader boat and in the black maze of her mind, the scene was revealed to her.
Hesper looked questioningly at Aunt Alice. 'But why should this human desire the moonkelp?' she asked. 'It will not aid her.'
Aunt Alice thought she knew the reason. 'I think Mrs Cooper would disagree with you there,' she replied. 'No doubt it possesses certain qualities vital to particular rituals.'
Suddenly Rowena sighed, and the vision which she had conjured up melted before her eyes. 'Excellent,' she cried. 'They have not found it yet.' She turned to the group beside her and caught the gist of what they were saying.
'The moonkelp!' she roared, throwing back her blonde head. 'Is that what you think, you old hag? Pathetic! How amusing the feeble-minded can be!'
This cruel derision made Jennet furious. She moved forward, but Aunt Alice's arms held her tightly. 'Peace, dear,' said the old lady softly. 'Ignore her and she may ignore you.'
Rowena's thin, twisted lips pulled wide apart and revealed all her teeth. 'The moonkelp is not my goal,' she told them. 'What use to me is such a weed?'
'Then what do you want?' asked Hesper.
Rowena touched the star pendant at her throat. 'I seek my freedom,' she answered in a hushed voice. 'Once I return the wretched moonkelp to the Lords of the Deep I shall have it—the power to control and destroy will be mine alone to wield.'
'The Deep Ones will not aid you in that, witch woman!' protested Hesper. 'If you think to obtain some of their might, then you shall perish. For their craft is too great for any mortal—it would consume you.'
'I want none of their baseness!' Rowena snorted. 'But they alone know the precise location of what I seek. Somewhere in this squalid, dingy little town a most wondrous thing was hidden and forgotten many ages past—an artefact charged with the magic of the ancients.'
'Balderdash!' retorted Miss Boston. 'Whitby is full of legends, but I've never heard anything to suggest that before. Absolute rubbish!'
Rowena prowled before her and the old lady teetered on the brink of the pier. 'Have you not?' she growled with menace. 'What of Hilda?'
'St Hilda?' said Aunt Alice, in a voice which had lost its confidence. Somewhere in the back of her mind there was an idea... if only she was less flustered. But the sound of the sea slapping the wall below scattered her thoughts and she glanced down warily. The heels of her brogues were only just on the pier; if Rowena compelled her to move back any more then she would certainly fall. The old lady shuffled her feet forward and desperately groped amongst her memories. 'St Hilda,' she repeated. 'What has this absurd fantasy got to do with her?'
'Saint Hilda!' scoffed Rowena. 'Before she came here, Hilda was a sorceress! If she had not found your God she could have ruled absolutely with the power that she possessed.'
Miss Boston uttered a cry as finally it came to her. 'And she cut off the heads of the serpents,' she said, fearfully repeating the old legend, 'with a whip or... staff.' The old lady glanced at Rowena and trembled, momentarily losing her balance. 'Can it be true?' she stammered.
Rowena Cooper swept the short, bleached curls off her forehead. Forming her bloodless white lips into a horrible smile she laughed softly and murmured, 'Yes! Tonight the staff of Hilda will be mine.'
Ben's eyes smarted. They ached from staring at the endless stretch of water and he had rubbed them until they were bloodshot. 'Is it much further?' he groaned. His initial excitement had worn off and the chill wind of the open sea numbed his cheeks and had turned his fingers purple.
Sister Bridget was absorbed in studying the night sky. There were too many clouds for her to be certain—if only she could get a clear view of the stars. 'I feel it is near,' she said.
Nelda ceased rowing, for her arms were tired. She gazed about them, but all was dark—not a sign of the moonkelp anywhere.
The novice caught her doubtful glance. 'Patience,' she told her. 'The moonkelp will not show itself until I speak the charm of the cold realm.'
She put her hands together and rested her chin upon them. Then, quietly at first, she began to recite the words her mother had sung to her. Her voice grew in strength as she repeated the strange-sounding charm. Cutting through the blackness of the night like a blade, it rose to a shout. Words of power challenged the spells of darkness that Irl had wrapped about the moonkelp long ages past and which blinded their eyes to it still.
Ben looked all around him. The air was charged with expectation and he held his breath—something was definitely beginning to happen.
A faint glimmer appeared about the boat. High above, the clouds moved quickly, fleeing to the far rim of the world, and in the clear expanse blazed the moon. It was swollen and full, bright as the sun but cold and ringed with a halo of frosty light. The icy rays poured down and the sea became molten silver.
Ben and Nelda looked at each other in wonder as sparks danced over the timbers of the boat. They pulled their tingling hands
away from its sides hastily. The shining water crackled and a flash of green lightning streaked through the waves, encircling them in a mesh of magical fire which radiated outwards, weaving a dazzling net upon the calm sea.
Abruptly Sister Bridget stopped chanting. She collapsed into Nelda's arms, gasping for breath. Her work was done.
Nelda felt her pulse. 'She will recover quickly,' she told Ben. 'You keep a watch for the moonkelp.'
The boy leaned out of the boat and scanned the shimmering sea. The quality of the light was changing—it became softer, and when he looked at the waves he noticed that they were now edged with gold.
From the deep, empty reaches of the sea-bed the moonkelp rose. Beneath the silver sea a rich yellow glow welled up. Bubbles of flame erupted on the surface and burst against the keel of the aufwader vessel. With a hiss of steam, the treasure of the Deep Ones surged upwards and met the air.
Ben fell back at the incredible sight. The many strands of the moonkelp shone gold and green. The light which pulsed from them was like midday at high summer and it laced the surrounding sea.
'Hurry,' Nelda instructed Ben. 'Gather it before it sinks again.'
He reached over the side and put his hand into the water. It was deliciously warm and when his fingers brushed the waving weed, all weariness left him. Quickly the boy began to haul the moonkelp out of the sea. Fiery jewels dripped from it. The marvellous light flooded his face when he held the treasure in his hands and the boat brimmed over with its glory.
Sister Bridget stirred in Nelda's arms. She raised her head and the sight of the moonkelp invigorated her. With its brilliance mirrored in her eyes, she turned to the aufwader. 'Send it back to them,' she said urgently. 'Claim the reward and release your people.'
Nelda could not quite believe what was happening. She felt as though she was inside one of the old legends that Hesper had told her. Hastily she foraged in the canvas bag by her side and brought out a large scallop shell. 'Place it on this,' she told Ben. 'I must call to the Deep Ones and despatch their treasure.'