Eternal Seas

by Lexi Rees

  ‘Yes,’ Dad says. ‘It’s definitely her signature. Look at it closely.’

  I run my finger underneath it, stopping at the letter “o” of Morgan. It’s been replaced by a symbol. A pirffu charm.

  ‘She always used that symbol in her signature. She was proud to be a Sea-Tamer.’

  ‘Is she here, in Izmarli?’

  ‘No, she didn’t give me the map. I promise, I’d tell you if she was here.’

  ‘Even if she didn’t give it to you directly, it’s still a clue. The customer must know her. Morgan drew the map for them. If we find them, then they can help us find her.’

  ‘Finn, trust me, they’re long gone. I told you, that’s what I was doing earlier. As soon as I spotted her signature, I went back to the market to look for them, but I couldn’t find them anywhere. They’d literally vanished without a trace.’

  ‘But you must know who the customer is?’

  ‘You know how smugglers work: “Don’t ask questions and you won’t be told lies”, so no, I don’t know who the customer is. They were … strange. Even more secretive than usual. I never got a name.’

  ‘Oh. Maybe we can still work out who they are. What did they look like?’

  ‘Whoever gave me the map was covered from head to toe by a thick woollen cloak, I remember thinking they must be melting in this heat. It had a large hood which fell over their face. I didn’t even get a glimpse of them.’

  ‘It’s impossible,’ I sigh, scratching my head. ‘Perhaps the people we’re delivering it to can help us? We can ask them when we give it to them.’

  ‘It’s not that simple. They might not want to tell us anything, Finn. Don’t get your hopes up.’

  ‘We have to try though, Dad. Come on, let’s go and get the parcel.’ I’m on my feet, itching to go.

  ‘Not tonight, Finn,’ Dad says. ‘It’s late, and we need to be properly prepared. We’ll chat about it tomorrow with Aria. Get some sleep, tomorrow’s going to be a long day.’

  I start to protest but he folds up the map and puts it away.

  Tossing and turning in bed, I think through the conversation – my adoption, my clan powers, the other blood-magic children, the prophecy, Sir Waldred, the map, Morgan’s signature. Eventually my eyelids get heavy and I nod off into a restless sleep.

  Despite my world being turned upside down, the sun rises the next day, bright and optimistic. I pull on the same clothes as yesterday and tiptoe past Aria’s door, trying not to wake her up. I creep into Dad’s cabin and close the door, wincing at the loud creak.

  ‘Dad,’ I whisper, shaking him gently to wake him up.

  He yawns, stretching like a cat.

  ‘Morning,’ he says, groggily.

  ‘Does Aria know I’m a Sea-Tamer? Does she know about Kallan and Morgan?’

  ‘No. We thought it should be your decision when you wanted to tell her.’

  ‘I think we should tell her today.’

  ‘OK, after breakfast. Do you want to tell her yourself, or with me?’

  ‘On my own, I think. Is that OK?’

  ‘Yes, it’s your decision.’

  ‘Thanks. Another question was bugging me during the night, Dad. Why is Morgan involved with this parcel? It’s connected to the elders, isn’t it?’ I ask.

  He sits bolt upright.

  ‘I was worrying about that too, Finn,’ Dad says. ‘I think it might be. She never forgave the elders for taking you away from her. She swore to take revenge on them. If she’s involved, this parcel is even more dangerous than I thought.’

  I look at Dad, his brow furrowed and his eyes full of fear. What secrets lie within this parcel? My stomach twists into a tight knot.

  My heart skips a beat. For this delivery, we won’t just be avoiding the usual pirates. We’re caught in a tangled web between Morgan, the elders, and a mysterious customer.

  ‘I’m going to tell Aria now. She needs to know the danger too,’ I say.

  ‘OK. Go and wake her up. Let me know when you want me to join you,’ Dad says, sinking back onto the mattress and pulling the covers up.

  Over breakfast, I tell Aria who I really am.

  ‘I wondered,’ she says with a grin. ‘That’s so cool. I knew holding your breath that long wasn’t normal.’ She bites her lip. ‘Did Dad say anything about me?’

  ‘No. Just that he hadn’t told you about me. He said it was up to me to tell you.’

  ‘Oh,’ she says, sounding a bit disappointed. ‘I wondered if he’d said anything else.’

  ‘He told me he was trying to find the customer when he dashed back into the bazaar. Look at this,’ I say, pointing at the signature on the map. ‘Dad is sure this is my birth mother’s signature. He says it makes the delivery more dangerous.’

  ‘It’s curious,’ she says. ‘I wonder how it’s all connected.’

  ‘I don’t know. Something doesn’t feel right. I don’t think Dad has told us everything.’

  FIVE

  Mistake

  Breakfast is cleared away by the time Dad comes in. ‘We’d better get going,’ he says. ‘Take a small backpack with anything you need. We’ll probably have to camp overnight.’

  I gaze around absent-mindedly and decide I don’t want to carry anything. I shove my feet into my battered walking boots and slip my penknife into my pocket.

  Aria rushes about, gathering a rapidly expanding pile of kit. ‘You could help me sort out the stuff,’ she says.

  ‘What else do we need? I’m ready.’

  ‘You’re not ready; you don’t even have a backpack,’ she retorts.

  Despite the messiness of the boat, she quickly locates three sleeping mats, some dried fruit and nuts, and our water bottles. She picks up the fire starter kit with its flint stick and a battered tin of silver birch bark shavings, then slings her bow and arrow over her shoulder. As I start to get off the boat, she blocks my way, holding out an overflowing backpack. ‘If you think I’m carrying this for you, you’re wrong,’ she says.

  We set off through the jungle towards the mountain. Thick vegetation slows our progress. We hack our way through the dense tangle of undergrowth. Sweat streams down my back and my T-shirt clings uncomfortably to my body. There’s still a long way to go and my legs ache.

  Gradually the vegetation starts to thin. The ground gets steeper and rockier. In several places, we scramble on hands and knees. It isn’t long before my arms and legs are covered in scratches. Eventually, we emerge from the trees altogether and get a clear view down to the harbour.

  ‘Look how small our boat is. I can’t believe we’ve climbed so far already,’ Aria exclaims.

  From here, a narrow path is hewn into the rock face. It zig-zags relentlessly up the side of the mountain. In places, the path is little more than a ledge, forcing us to shuffle sideways, barely daring to breathe, until it widens again.

  Every so often we pass a hollow, hacked into the rock face. Ancient burial tombs, Dad explains.

  I stumble on a patch of loose gravel. Stones scurry over the edge of the cliff. I land on my stomach and start sliding down the steep path, faster and faster. The grit stings my skin as I scratch and claw at it, trying to find something solid to clasp onto. Blood pours from my fingers, my t-shirt rips into shreds. I dig my toes into the ground as hard as I can, thankful for the protection of my walking boots. It’s not enough.

  The path turns a sharp corner but momentum carries my body straight on, towards the edge of the cliff. Like when you’re on a roller coaster, even though you know you’re about to plunge down, I’m helpless. I can’t stop. I’m feel myself going over. My feet thrash wildly in the fresh air, failing to find a foothold.

  My fingertips close around a branch. I cling onto it desperately. Will it hold my weight? Inch by inch, I grind to a halt, my legs swinging over the ledge. I hold my breath, count to three, then look
up.

  It’s not a branch that saved my life. It’s Aria’s bow. Her arm is hooked around a rock, her face a mask of concentration, straining against my weight dangling off the other end of her bow. ‘Hold on,’ she yells at me, bracing herself against the rock.

  Dad throws himself onto the ground, spread-eagled, and grabs my other hand. He drags me back over the ledge, rocks scraping against my stomach. The three of us collapse into a heap on the ground, breathing fast and hard. Aria hugs her bow to her chest.

  I stand up, wincing, and examine my cuts and bruises. I’ll have a few scars, but no permanent damage. ‘That was a close shave,’ I say.

  Dad pulls himself to his feet. He wipes the blood off the deepest cut on my leg and frowns. ‘Can you walk? We need to keep going.’

  ‘I’m OK,’ I say.

  We start to climb again. I try not to limp. Each of us walks a little more slowly, and much more carefully.

  Dad stops in front of one of the man-made caves and looks around. This one is big enough for the three of us to crawl inside.

  ‘I don’t think we should try and go any further today. It’s getting dark,’ Dad says. ‘Let’s set up camp here for the night.’

  ‘It’s creepy,’ Aria moans.

  ‘The spirit of whoever was buried here will protect us. It’s actually probably the safest place we could be,’ Dad says.

  Camp is basic. We unroll our sleeping mats. Strange noises echo in the jungle below us, and an ominous silence presses down from the mountain above. The rocky ground makes a hard bed. With the setting sun, the temperature plummets, but there’s nothing to build a fire with. Cold and uncomfortable, I sleep little and we’re all up at dawn.

  Breakfast is a handful of berries and some of the nuts that Aria had sensibly packed. Gathering up our kit doesn’t take long and we’re soon on our way.

  Then we’re climbing again, following the path as it snakes its way up the steep mountain. After a few hours, I’m tempted to ask if we are nearly there yet. It’s a pointless question as Dad will reply, ‘Just round the next corner’. But it seems that there is no end to the corners; after each zig, there is a zag, and we just keep on going up and up and up.

  We walk all day, stopping only briefly to rest and take a few sips of water. It’s late by the time we reach the flat plateau at the bottom of the waterfall that we could see from the boat. Up close, it’s even bigger, cascading from a dizzying height into an inky black pool. The water roars like a lion as it crashes into the pool and we shout at each other over the noise. Trees crowd around the pool, like an oasis in a rocky desert.

  As I get closer to the pool, my head fills with a chattering noise. I can’t make out the words, but I know it’s fish in the pool talking to each other. I stop at the water’s edge and, in my head, I shape the words, ‘May I join you?’

  ‘Yes, yes,’ the fish call out to me. Freshwater fish with an unfamiliar dialect, but I can understand enough.

  ‘Come and join us. The water is good,’ one calls.

  ‘Are you from the sea?’ asks another. ‘Your accent is funny.’

  ‘Yes, I’m from the sea,’ I say. ‘And my accent isn’t funny. It’s just different.’

  ‘What does the sea taste like?’ asks the curious fish.

  ‘Err, salty. I guess. I don’t really drink it.’

  Still fully clothed, I dive into the cool, refreshing water to join the chatty freshwater fish.

  ‘No, Finn,’ Dad cries.

  Aria shouts, ‘It might be dangerous. You don’t know what’s below the surface. There could be crocodiles or water snakes or anything.’

  I stick my head out of the pool. ‘It’s OK, I did check. The fish told me it was safe,’ I shout back. It’s a relief being able to talk about my abilities without worrying if they’ll think I’m weird or insane.

  I leap up onto the rocks beside the pool. ‘So, Dad, where’s this pickup place then?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ he admits. ‘It’s marked right here on the map. But it doesn’t make sense. There’s nothing here. I’m going to look around.’

  ‘What are we looking for?’ Aria asks.

  ‘Anything that could hide a parcel, like a box or a chest,’ Dad says.

  Aria and Dad set off in different directions. The waterfall glitters and sparkles. In a trance, I walk towards it, sucked in by an invisible force.

  ‘Finn, stop mucking about in the waterfall and help us look,’ Aria calls.

  I blink. The spell breaks. I edge my way back out of the waterfall but the rocks are wet and I haven’t regained full control of my body from the dream-like trance. I stumble, plunging headfirst into the waterfall.

  SIX

  Hidden

  I shut my eyes and wait for the force of the waterfall to drag me down into the inky pool. With a bump, I stop falling. A bump, not a splash. My eyes ping open. It’s dark and damp, but I’m not underwater.

  I sit up, clutching the pirrfu charm which dangles from a leather thong around my neck. It seems to be throbbing like a beating heart. With a frown, I tuck the charm back under my shirt. I look around, confused. I’m not at the bottom of the pool. Dim green light filters through a curtain of water.

  ‘Dad? Can you hear me?’ I shout. ‘I’m OK. I’m in some sort of cave. Behind the waterfall.’

  A few moments later Dad’s head appears through the wall of water, swiftly followed by the rest of his body.

  ‘A hidden cave. I think you’ve accidentally found the pickup location,’ he says, raising an eyebrow.

  The cascade of water at the side of the cave isn’t as heavy. We step back out through the watery door and onto the rocky ledge. Pointing and waving, I yell, ‘Aria! Over here.’

  She jogs back towards the pool. As she gets nearer, I shout, ‘There’s a hidden cave. Exactly where the map shows the pickup location, we just didn’t see it behind the waterfall. Hurry up. We’re going in.’

  ‘Wait for me,’ she cries, her voice drowned out by the roaring waterfall as I duck back into the cave.

  Shortly after, Aria emerges through the waterfall and joins me. Together, we edge our way deeper into the cave. Dad is a shadow in the gloomy darkness ahead. I wish I had a torch.

  As my eyes adjust to the eerie greenish light, I look around. The cave seems to be empty, but my senses are on edge. The steady ba-dum … ba-dum … ba-dum heartbeat from the pirrfu charm accelerates. Badumbadumbadum.

  A continual rumble of thunder echoes from the waterfall. Over the din, a voice calls out. Faint at first but growing louder.

  ‘Can you hear that?’ I whisper to Aria.

  ‘Hear what?’

  ‘That voice.’

  ‘Nope. I can’t hear anything other than the waterfall. Maybe you’re imagining it.’

  ‘I’m not. There IS a voice. But I can’t make out what it’s saying. It’s kind of muffled … “See”. It sounds like it’s telling me to see something.’

  Aria stands motionless and cups her ear, but after a few moments she shakes her head.

  ‘I think it’s coming from over there,’ I say.

  The voice draws me deeper into the cave, my feet moving despite the alarm bells ringing in my head. Aria follows, right on my heels. With every step, the voice gets louder and more persistent. I feel it tugging at me, pulling me closer. The darkness of the cave envelops us. I test the air in front of me with my fingertips as if in a game of blind man’s bluff.

  Pain sears through me. ‘Ouch!’ I cry, ripping my shirt open and tearing the leather thong from round my neck. A red, raw welt throbs on my chest.

  ‘What happened?’ Aria asks.

  ‘It burnt me. My pirrfu charm. Look, it’s scalding hot …’ I hold it at arm’s length. In the darkness, it gives off a blue glow, illuminating a solid wall. We’ve made it to the back of the cave. I run my hands over the surface, using
the light from the charm to cut through the gloom.

  ‘Now what are you doing?’ Aria asks.

  ‘It’s here. The voice is coming from inside the rocks.’

  ‘That’s impossible.’

  ‘I know,’ I say, ‘but it is.’

  The walls of the cave are cold and damp. A thin film of icy water makes them slimy. Numbness spreads through my fingers and I want to give up, but the voice keeps calling to me. Finally, I feel a change in the surface.

  A rough hole has been hacked into the cave wall. I peer inside, but it’s too dark to see anything. I hold the charm in front of the hollow. Curious shadows dance on the rough stone under the blue light. Caught in the glow, I spot something, jammed hard into a crevice. I reach in, very slowly.

  My fingertips brush against an object.

  The voice screams at me. ‘SEE, SEE, SEE.’

  I grip the object and try to lift it from its hiding place. It’s stuck. I use my fingernails to prise it out. The voice disappears. Ba-dum … ba-dum … ba-dum … A wave of calm flows from the pirrfu charm.

  I open my fist and look at the parcel. It’s nothing more than a small bundle wrapped in an ancient cloth; tattered, filthy and damp. It certainly doesn’t look very valuable to me. I can’t see why someone would have gone to the bother of hiding it so well, or why someone would pay Dad to get it.

  Dad comes over to join us, and the three of us stare at the little bundle in the dim blue light.

  ‘How did you find it?’ he asks.

  ‘It kind of called to me,’ I say.

  ‘The customer was right,’ Dad mutters. ‘I did need you to find it.’

  I recall the instruction that I must help Dad with the pickup. Me. Not Dad or Aria. They knew that I would hear it. They knew that I would be the one to find it. What connection is there between me and this parcel? A shiver runs down my spine.