The Nest of Nessies (Penny White Book 6)

by Chrys Cymri

  ‘I’m not entirely happy with this,’ Morey said as we headed away from the vicarage. ‘You’re a priest, not a servant of your government.’

  ‘I do feel a bit out of my depth,’ I agreed. ‘But could you see Abella talking to a government official? Or someone from the military?’

  ‘Never,’ Raven called back to us. ‘She trusts Penny.’

  ‘Just be careful,’ Morey told me. ‘Your vocation is to serve God as a priest. Not the British government as an unpaid civil servant.’

  ‘I’d prefer to think of myself as some form of ambassador,’ I said calmly. ‘Representing the Queen.’

  Raven took us through a crossing, and the sudden, freezing cold cut off Morey’s grumbles. I shrank into my coat, wishing that I’d packed a pair of gloves. Black night was brightened by green and red ribbons of light, dancing and swirling against the pin pricks of stars. ‘Morey, the Northern Lights!’

  The gryphon looked up. ‘Actually, I should think those are the aurora australis. We’re over the sub-Antarctic.’

  I had one quick glimpse of snowy mountains before we were back in bright and warm sunshine. A forest shimmered below us, and hills slumped on either side. I took in deep breaths of pine-scented air and wriggled life back into my numb toes.

  Raven dipped to the right, and we traded trees for waves. ‘It’s a short flight,’ he told us as we skimmed over the water. The sun was still below the horizon, but the sky was already brightening. ‘The shoal are about twenty minutes away.’

  ‘Almost time for a nap,’ Morey commented.

  ‘Really?’ I nodded to our left. ‘Just look at those pink clouds. It’s going to be a beautiful dawn.’

  ‘Wake me when it’s over.’ And he closed his eyes.

  The first fingers of sunshine touched Abella’s green-blonde hair as we arrived at the shoal’s platforms. Raven dropped into the water, soaking my old boots and work trousers. Morey spluttered a protest at the sudden dunking. His sodden wings sprayed cold water against my face as he flew over to the nearest raft.

  ‘Towel,’ I muttered to myself as merpeople helped me off Raven’s neck and over to the platform. Something else to pack the next time I took a flight that would involve a watery landing. I removed socks and boots, then made my way over to Abella.

  ‘We are impressed with your punctuality,’ she told me. A gold necklace glittered against her bare skin. A pearl the size of my fist dangled from the end, and I felt sorry for the oyster which had shared her shell with such a massive burden. Unless, of course, the oyster were as large as those which had threatened Sarah and Harry in episode four of ‘The Genesis of the Daleks.’

  Thinking of the Fourth Doctor always made me smile. Never mind a towel, perhaps I could add a bag of jelly babies to the contents of my jacket pockets.

  Abella indicated the raised logs, and once she had taken a seat, I followed suit. Raven rested his head on the raft, ears and horns pointed in the merwoman’s direction. ‘We have spoken to Nessie. She is willing to lead you to the metal ship, and those who have taken it into their possession.’

  ‘That’s wonderful,’ I said carefully. ‘When can we go?’

  ‘She has a number of conditions.’

  I kept my smile in place. ‘Of course. What are they?’

  Water roiled against the far side of the raft. I clutched at the log as the platform shuddered. A long neck rose from the sea, and a green snake-like head darted across to hover only a few feet away. ‘The nest. Make them want me back.’

  I cast my mind back to a conversation held one late evening on the shores of Loch Ness. ‘You’ve been gone too long. You don’t speak their language any more.’

  ‘We have been rectifying that,’ Abella said. ‘Her native tongue has been returned to her, but not her welcome to her nest.’

  ‘Need something shiny,’ Nessie continued. ‘Gold. Then family again.’

  Somehow, I bit back the retort that, if she needed to bribe her way in, the nest was anything but family. ‘I can get gold for you,’ I said, hoping that Sue wouldn’t turn me into a liar. ‘But I don’t have anything to offer you now.’

  ‘Gold,’ the dinosaur said. ‘Or no visit to the nest.’

  ‘Gold will ease her negotiations with her sisters,’ Abella explained. ‘Perhaps this will do?’ And the merwoman lifted the heavy chain from her neck.

  Raven growled a protest. ‘What’s a lost ship to you? There’s no obligation on the shoal.’

  ‘We sense the weight of responsibility on Penny’s shoulders,’ Abella replied. ‘We know the importance she holds for you. And you are an obligation to us. Therefore, the gold is freely offered.’

  ‘That will do,’ Nessie said greedily. ‘Tie it around my neck.’

  A merman fetched a cord of rope and obeyed. When he backed away, the gold links glittered against the green scales. Nessie shook her head, and although the pearl bounced against her skin, the necklace stayed in place. ‘I will take you now.’

  ‘In a moment.’ I turned to Abella. ‘Could someone make up a rope ladder? One which I could hook around Raven’s neck spines?’

  ‘For what reason?’ the dragon asked.

  ‘So I can climb down to the submarine, if I need to.’ I frowned. ‘If the Themis is even on the surface.’

  ‘My sisters can bring it up,’ Nessie assured me.

  Morey flew up to my shoulder. ‘Any idea why they took it in the first place?’

  ‘Shiny toy,’ Nessie said, as if that were obvious. ‘No toy like that in Alba.’

  ‘And long may that continue,’ I commented. To my surprise, a merwoman suddenly emerged from the sea to thrust some sodden but strong looking webbing at my feet. ‘You’re going to have to wear this,’ I told Raven. ‘There’s too much for me to carry.’

  Raven grumbled, but he swam closer and lowered himself to the height of the platform. I did my best to arrange the rope in some semblance of order. Much better to have it organised while I was standing in relative safety on a raft, than later on when I might be lowering it whilst sitting on a hovering dragon.

  I pulled on my still damp socks and boots, and gritted my teeth as I swung my right leg from platform to dragon. He started to fill his gas chamber, but as I’d expected, my feet and legs had another soaking in the cold water. Morey waited until Raven had floated above the water, then settled on the netting which was humped over the spines in front of me.

  ‘Don’t go too far below the surface,’ Raven told Nessie. He released excess flame, then added, ‘I’ll stay as close to the water as I can.’

  ‘I’ll also keep my speed down,’ Nessie said. ‘Otherwise I’d lose you behind.’

  ‘I can fly faster than you can swim.’

  ‘It’s not a race,’ I told both of them. ‘Let’s just set a steady pace, okay?’

  Nessie took us west, heading away from both the shoal and any last traces of land. Although the wind kept me cool in my jacket, I could feel the sun warming my neck. Raven’s flight was steady, and I dared to let go of his spine to spread lotion on my exposed skin.

  An hour later, I was beginning to regret my third cup of coffee. Men, I reflected, would find it much easier to spend long hours dragonback. I didn’t think that Raven would have any objections to a human relieving themselves mid-flight, particularly as I’d always pretended to be studying the spine in front of me when he would temporarily hover to take care of his bodily needs. But I could see no way in which I could safely empty my bladder. I bit my lip and tried to think of loftier matters. The ebb and flow of ocean waves. No, that didn’t help. Psalm 23. ‘He leads me by still waters.’ Not much of an improvement. Petrichor, the smell of soil after rain. I sighed.

  ‘It that it?’ Morey said suddenly, rising from his perch. ‘The submarine?’

  Now I had a decent distraction. ‘Yes. Raven, that’s it!’

  The Themis was several hundred feet away. The tall tower rising from the black body reminded me of an orca, except this was a far more deadly predator.
What was it called? I racked my mind. The sail. As we drew near the sail, I saw that two people were standing on the top of the tower, holding on to railings which kept them from tumbling onto the flat top below. I waved.

  One waved back. The other dropped out of sight. Raven brought us in close. Nessie had pulled up alongside the Themis, even her large body dwarfed by the submarine. I couldn’t see any other sea dinosaurs in the area.

  Someone with short-cropped grey hair stepped onto the sail’s platform. As Raven brought us closer, I remembered the photo of a woman wrestling with a golden retriever. Captain Elisabeth Burrows. ‘I’m going to the submarine,’ I told the dragon. And, lying only slightly, I added, ‘I want to speak to her.’

  Raven positioned himself just above and to the left of the tower. ‘I’m coming down!’ I shouted at the people below. Morey lifted away from the webbing, and I managed to unwrap the dark material from the dragon’s spines and let it swing free.

  The Captain quickly realised what I was doing. She grabbed the far end and brought it within the area within the railings. The second person ducked down below, giving me more space for my descent.

  I jabbed my left foot into the netting and held on to Raven’s spine as I swung my right leg over. Step by step, glancing down only when I felt it was absolutely necessary, I clambered from dragon to submarine.

  Water squished from my boots as I landed on the metal floor. Captain Burrows was several inches taller than me and around five years older, and held herself with a confidence I could only envy. Despite the ordeal she must have endured, her white shirt looked as fresh as if she’d turned out for a military parade.

  I’d hoped to make a speech, something along the lines of ‘I’m Reverend Penny White, Vicar General of Nenehampton Diocese, and I’m here to save you all!’ But what came out my mouth instead was, ‘Hi, I’m Penny, and can I please use your loo?’

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  The captain merely said, ‘Of course.’ She led the way to the small hatch. I followed her down the metal ladder, passing various coils of metal and instruments which meant nothing to me. A couple of men looked up from their work at various panels as I stepped down to the floor, but they glanced at Burrows and returned to their work.

  We exited into a corridor not much wider than a man’s shoulders. The walls were grey, but on the right, various boxes painted yellow protruded into the passageway. Black cables and red pipes added variety to the colour scheme. Closed doors lined the left. The smell was a mixture of oil, stale air, and sweat, and the whirr of machinery scratched against my ears.

  Burrows pointed to a small opening. I walked into the cubicle, shut the door, and rejoiced in the miracle of modern plumbing. The toilet was spotless, a nearly full loo roll hung in reach, and the seat was down.

  I emerged to find Morey perched on a metal rack, feathers ruffled. ‘Don’t worry about me, I can find my own way in.’

  ‘Captain Burrows,’ I said to the older woman, trying to dredge up what remained of my dignity, ‘my name is Penny White. I’ve been sent by Sue Harkness, a cabinet minister, to see about freeing you and your boat and bringing you back to Britain.’

  She studied me, hazel eyes dark under the artificial light. ‘You and this flying bird thing?’

  ‘Gryphon,’ Morey corrected sharply. ‘Besides, “flying bird” is a tautology.’

  ‘Not necessarily,’ Burrows countered. ‘Explain that to the dodo. Or the kiwi. Would you accept “flying cat thing” instead?’

  ‘I’d accept gryphon.’

  ‘And this is my Associate, Morey,’ I added. ‘I would apologise for him, but there’s no point.’

  ‘As I tell the trainees, you can only be responsible for yourself.’ Still no sign of a smile on her narrow face. ‘Gratified as I am to see that Her Majesty’s Government will send a dragon-mounted priest and a grammatically aware gryphon to a stranded submarine, you have yet to explain exactly how you plan to free us.’

  The air was warm. I could feel sweat forming under my arms and across my forehead. ‘Are the sea dinosaurs still interested in you?’

  ‘Whenever we try to move the submarine,’ Burrows said. ‘That’s when they surface again. Although, and perhaps you can explain this to me, Padre, not all of my senior officers can see the wretched things.’

  ‘Human minds reject what we can’t understand.’ I removed my coat. ‘It might be easier to talk to all of your senior officers at the same time. Could you arrange that?’

  Again the dark eyes assessed me. ‘Follow me.’

  We dropped down a level and walked along another corridor. I tried to memorise the route in case of a need for an emergency exit. The thought that I was inside a long metal tube which relied on recycling its own oxygen left me feeling queasy. Or maybe it was the increasing stench of stale sweat as we left any source of fresh air behind.

  The captain paused at one room to speak to a young man. He hurried off, and we continued at our more sedate pace. Burrows opened a door and ushered me into a room lined with long tables and red chairs. Harsh blue-white light from panels set into the ceiling shone across the faces of a dozen men and women. Even the dark-skinned officers looked pale. Their white shirts were damp and stained, but the men were clean-shaven. ‘Welcome to the officers’ mess,’ Burrows told me. ‘Best place for us to meet.’

  I couldn’t help but feel a bit disappointed. ‘I was expecting some sort of captain’s ready room.’

  ‘This is not a Federation Starship, Padre,’ Burrows said. ‘I can only envy Captain Janeway’s office.’

  ‘Or Captain Picard’s,’ a middle-aged man added. ‘I’d much rather be on the Enterprise than Voyager.’

  ‘We watch Star Trek episodes in our down time,’ Burrows explained. ‘This is Padre White. And her Associate, Morey.’

  One of the men whistled, low and long. ‘Is that a gryphon on your shoulder?’

  ‘Here you go again,’ a woman snapped. ‘There’s nothing on the padre’s shoulder.’

  ‘Who here can see Morey?’ I asked. Half of them raised hands. ‘Fine, let’s sort out the rest of you.’

  Morey flew around the room, landing briefly on shoulder after shoulder. Some of the officers swore when they could suddenly see the gryphon, which gained a sharp correction from the captain. ‘Not in front of the padre. Show some respect!’

  I was always amazed to discover that people thought priests were somehow too pure to cope with the occasional swear word. Particularly as we were fully capable of using them ourselves. ‘Let me explain. I’ll keep it brief. You’ve been taken from Earth to our sister world, Daear. The Themis is now off the shores of Alba, which is their version of Scotland. And, yes, those were sea dinosaurs which took you captive. I’ve come here with the Loch Ness monster--’

  ‘Does it speak Klingon?’ one woman asked, her mouth twisted.

  ‘Gaelic, Welsh, and English,’ Morey answered. ‘And, most importantly, sea speech.’

  ‘She’s going to help us negotiate with the nest who kidnapped you,’ I continued. ‘I’ve been empowered to offer payment for your release.’

  Captain Burrows glared at me. ‘The British Government does not offer ransom payments to terrorists.’

  ‘They’re not terrorists, and it’s not a ransom.’ I rubbed my forehead. The stuffy atmosphere was starting to give me a headache. ‘If you could take me back outside, I’ll ask Nessie to summon your captors.’

  ‘Or we could fight our way free,’ a male officer said. ‘I’ve said that all along.’

  ‘We don’t know where we are,’ Burrows replied, ‘we don’t know how many of these creatures are out there, and now it looks like our radio signals have been received. I’d rather that a full naval division had been sent to our aid, but if the padre can negotiate a peaceful settlement, then I’ll be happy with that.’

  ‘But, Captain--’

  ‘Back to your positions,’ Burrows told her officers. ‘I’ll go up with the padre. And, for any of you who still think I’m
hallucinating, you might want to have a look at the screens in the control room. There’s a rather splendid dragon in our skies.’

  ‘Standing on our hull, actually, Captain,’ a young man said nervously.

  ‘He won’t be as heavy as he looks,’ I assured them. ‘Dragons use lighter-than-air gases to help them fly.’

  ‘Of course they do,’ Burrows responded. ‘And I suppose they also speak four different languages?’

  ‘Welsh is the most common across Lloegyr,’ Morey answered. ‘We have little need for Klingon. Our people live in the real world.’

  ‘oH nuq DaHar,’ one officer muttered.

  Morey puffed out his chest. ‘nID qo' real 'e' Damevchugh, chaq rur je SoH.’

  As we made a swift exit, I muttered to Morey, ‘Since when do you speak Klingon?’

  ‘It’s actually not that hard to learn.’

  I felt the air becoming sweeter as we made our way back to the sail. Once I’d climbed the steep ladder and again stood outside, I took a deep breath and felt something ease in my chest.

  ‘We call it “going wibble”,’ the captain said, standing beside me.

  ‘I beg your pardon?’

  Finally, the smallest of smiles eased her thin lips. ‘Life on a submarine isn’t for everyone, Padre.’

  Raven was indeed standing on the front section of the Themis, the brown netting at his feet. I reassured myself with the thought that surely even golden claws couldn’t penetrate metal plates designed to withstand deep dives. I turned to my left, where Nessie rested in the water. ‘Could you call your sisters? I’d like to talk to them about releasing this boat.’

  Nessie lowered her head into the water. From my height, I couldn’t sense the sea speech. But the results were dramatic. In less than a minute, a dozen of her kind surfaced around the submarine.

  ‘Sea dinosaurs,’ Burrows said. ‘And to think I always made fun of people who claimed to have seen the Loch Ness monster.’

  ‘Actually,’ Morey told her, ‘they’re elasmosauri. Although many people in Alba have started to use your term for them, namely “nessies”.’