Mermaid Curse

by Louise Cooper

  PUFFIN BOOKS

  The Silver Dolphin

  Born in Hertfordshire, England, on 29 May 1952, Louise Cooper describes herself as ‘a typical scatter-brained 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, ‘messing about on the beach’ and – just to make sure she keeps busy – is also treasurer of her local Royal National Lifeboat Institution branch.

  Visit Louise at her own website at louisecooper.com

  Books by Louise Cooper

  Sea Horses series in reading order

  Sea Horses

  The Talisman

  Gathering Storm

  The Last Secret

  Mermaid Curse series in reading order

  The Silver Dolphin

  The Black Pearl

  The Silver Dolphin

  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 Group (Canada), 90 Eglinton Avenue East, Suite 700, Toronto, Ontario, Canada M4P 2Y3

  (a division of Pearson Penguin Canada Inc.)

  Penguin Ireland, 25 St Stephen’s Green, Dublin 2, Ireland (a division of Penguin Books Ltd)

  Penguin Group (Australia), 250 Camberwell Road, Camberwell, Victoria 3124, Australia

  (a division of Pearson Australia Group Pty Ltd)

  Penguin Books India Pvt Ltd, 11 Community Centre, Panchsheel Park, New Delhi – 110 017, India

  Penguin Group (NZ), 67 Apollo Drive, Rosedale, North Shore 0632, New Zealand

  (a division of Pearson New Zealand Ltd)

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

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

  puffinbooks.com

  First published 2008

  Text copyright © Louise Cooper, 2008

  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

  ISBN:978-0-14-190964-6

  For my lovely mother, Pat,

  with eternal thanks for bringing me

  to Cornwall at a very early age

  and introducing me to the land that

  is truly home

  Prologue

  Light shimmered in the undersea cave, sending dancing reflections across the walls and over the surface of the huge calm pool in the centre. On the walls of the cave were nine mirrors that looked as though they were made of rippling water. Each mirror glowed a different colour. Seven were the hues of the rainbow: red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo and violet; the other two shone silver and black. Vague, graceful images moved and drifted in the depths of the rainbow-coloured mirrors. The black and the silver, though, showed no reflections at all, but were still and quiet.

  At one side of the cave was a couch of rock, draped with many-coloured seaweeds like luxurious cushions, and decorated with shells and mother-of-pearl and all manner of sea trinkets. On the couch sat a mermaid. She had blue-black hair that fell in a shining curtain to her waist, and eyes as green and brilliant as emeralds. Around her shoulders she wore a regal cloak of woven seaweed, and there were rings on her fingers and more sea-jewels at her wrists and throat. She was as beautiful as the cave, but there was a cruel edge to her lovely face as she stared at a circlet that she held in her hands. The circlet was made of gold, and round its edge, evenly spaced, pearls were set. Each pearl was a different colour. There were settings for nine – but two were missing.

  The mermaid’s eyes were as cold as frost. ‘Only seven,’ she muttered. ‘Only seven. I must have all the pearls, or my power will not be complete!’ Her expression twisted angrily. ‘It was the dolphins who thwarted me – Arhans and her interfering friends – I will have revenge on them, I swear it!’

  The creature coiled at the foot of the rock stirred and raised its dark, ugly head. ‘Majesty, that will not be easy,’ it said. ‘The dolphins consider themselves beyond anyone’s command – even that of such a great Queen as you.’

  ‘Oh, I know, Tullor. But, even if I cannot hurt them, I can do whatever I please to anyone who sides with them. Someone must know who has the two missing pearls. And they will tell us.’

  The creature’s mouth opened, revealing rows of ferocious teeth, and it hissed with pleasure. ‘We will make them tell, Majesty!’

  ‘That’s right, my faithful servant. The old Queen is dead, and her daughter is… shall we say… lost.’ She smiled cruelly. ‘I am Queen now. I will find the missing pearls. And when I have them, and the crown of power is whole again, no one will be able to defy me. They will not dare – and I will rule forever!’

  Chapter One

  ‘This,’ said Lizzy Baxter breathlessly, tossing her unruly blonde hair out of her eyes, ‘is hopeless!’

  Her elder sister, Rose, gave her own end of the cardboard box another tug, but only succeeded in wedging it more tightly in the bend of the stairs. Then the box slipped and fell on Lizzy’s toe, and she said a rude word.

  ‘Better get Dad to help,’ Rose puffed. ‘Honestly, I can’t see why on earth we had to move to a house where everything’s too narrow or too twisty or both! Why couldn’t we have found somewhere modern?’

  Ignoring the grumbles, Lizzy looked over her shoulder, down to the cluttered hall, and yelled, ‘DA-ad! We can’t shift it!’

  Mr Baxter appeared, tousled and with smears of dust all over his shirt. ‘I told you to leave it to Mum and me,’ he said, pounding up the stairs. His feet clattered like horses’ hooves on the bare wood. ‘Out of the way, Lizzy; that’s it… Now, Rose, if you just get a good grip on your end and pull…’

  Moving house, Lizzy decided later, had to be the craziest and most exhausting experience in the whole world. But it was also just about the best fun she had ever had. Take this evening, for instance. All the furniture was finally in the right rooms, and they had eventually found enough duvets and pillows to make up the beds. But the electricity hadn’t been reconnected yet, so now all four Baxters were sitting by candlelight in a kitchen full of crates and boxes, eating baked beans and sausages cooked on a camping stove, with lemonade and cider to wash it down. It had to be the wackiest picnic ever.

  ‘Well, I don’t care what you say, Rose,’ Mrs Baxter mumbled through a mouthful of food, ‘I think it’s a fabulous house! What about you, Lizzy, love?’

  Lizzy stared at the dark square of the window (the curtains weren’t up yet). She couldn’t see the small garden now, or the other houses beyond, scrambling further up the steep hill of this Cornish fishing port. But a warm feeling was growing in her that had nothing to do with the food.

  ‘I love it,’ she said firmly. ‘It feels like home.’

  Lizzy was too excited to sleep. At midnight she was still sitting at the window of her new bedroom, from where she could see the harbour. The house had thick stone walls, and the win
dow was set into a deep alcove that made a perfect lookout seat.

  Everything was very quiet. There was no traffic noise, and now that the rain had stopped the only sound she could hear was the sighing murmur of the sea. Every few seconds, the beam of a lighthouse swung round and round, turning constantly over the water in its unending warning circle. The lighthouse was a small automatic one that stood on the jutting headland between the beach and the harbour. Tomorrow, Lizzy thought, she would see it for herself. And that thought set her wondering about what she had said earlier.

  It feels like home. And maybe it was…

  Lizzy and Rose had known for a long time that the people they called Mum and Dad were not their real parents. Mr and Mrs Baxter couldn’t have children of their own. They had adopted Rose when she was one, and a few years later they had adopted baby Lizzy too. As soon as the girls were old enough they had told them the truth. Rose’s parents had been killed in a car crash. The Baxters knew their names and where they had come from. But with Lizzy, it was different. She had been found abandoned when she was only a few months old. No family could be traced, so she was taken into a children’s home and put up for adoption soon afterwards. And, strangely, the place where she had been found was not far from this town.

  It was a coincidence, of course, that she had come to live in the area again. Dad taught English Literature at university, and when he had been offered a post at the new university in Cornwall, all the family had jumped at the chance to live by the sea. Dad and Mum had asked Lizzy if she minded coming here, which she thought was very considerate of them. But it didn’t make her feel uncomfortable. Quite the opposite, in fact; she had wanted to come.

  The lighthouse beam swung round again, gleaming on the sea’s surface and turning it briefly from midnight black to shimmering silver-grey. Lizzy blinked as a funny little tingling sensation moved in her stomach. The quiet harbour, the ever-turning light… Might she have seen them before? She would have been too young to remember, but could it be the reason why she just knew she was going to be happy here?

  She put a hand to her throat, and her fingers closed round something that hung there on a silver chain. It was a locket, made from mother-of-pearl that shone with rainbow colours. It had been round Lizzy’s neck when she was found, but no one knew who had given it to her.

  Lizzy pressed a tiny catch and the locket opened like the two halves of a shell. Inside was a single curl of hair, the same bright, pale blonde as her own. It was a very unusual colour, and everyone else believed it must be Lizzy’s. But Lizzy secretly believed the curl of hair belonged to her mother or father, and in her mind it was the one link she had with the parents she had never known.

  There were footsteps on the landing outside, then her door opened and Mum looked in.

  ‘Hey, you should be asleep!’ she said, smiling.

  Lizzy smiled back, closing the locket and letting it fall back on its chain. ‘Sorry, Mum. I was too excited.’

  ‘I know, love. It’s always strange, the first night in a new house. But we’ve got lots to do tomorrow, so get into bed now, all right?’

  Mum understood. Lizzy nodded. ‘All right,’ she said.

  ‘Night, night.’ Mum came across and kissed her. ‘Sleep tight.’

  Lizzy grinned. ‘Don’t let the bedbugs bite!’

  They both laughed at the old rhyme, and Mum went out again, closing the door softly. Lizzy waited until the lighthouse beam had flashed round once more. Then she slipped under her duvet, snuggled down and closed her eyes.

  Within two days the whirl of unpacking and putting things away was over. The house was ‘coming along’, as Mum put it; the electricity and phone had been connected, and even Dad’s tiny downstairs study didn’t look like the result of a whirlwind in a paper factory. So Lizzy and Rose were allowed time off to start exploring their new surroundings in earnest.

  At first they went out together, getting to know the layout of the town and which streets led where. But although the two girls were good friends, Rose at fifteen was four years older than Lizzy, and what she really wanted was to make new friends. Especially boys. Lizzy wasn’t exactly a nuisance, but Rose had her own kind of exploring to do. So it wasn’t long before Lizzy found herself on her own.

  She didn’t mind at all. The town was fascinating, and she could happily have spent weeks just wandering around. In fact there was so much to see and to discover that she hardly knew where to start. This wasn’t a small sleepy village like the Cornwall she had always imagined, but a working fishing port, busy and bustling and filled with activity. With summer in full swing it was crowded with holiday visitors too, and everyone looked healthy and happy and smiled at each other. It was, Lizzy thought, like a huge and lively fairground.

  The harbour was a short walk from the Baxters’ house, down through narrow streets to the foot of the hill. It wasn’t a picture-postcard harbour: instead of sailing boats there were fishing trawlers crowded at the old stone quay, a big warehouse and covered fish market with forklift trucks running backwards and forwards, wind-tanned men in overalls and heavy boots. The mixed smells of brine, fish and diesel fuel made Lizzy’s nose wrinkle, and everywhere there were gulls, flapping and diving and shrieking.

  Beyond the quay and the warehouse were more boats, smaller ones, moored at a network of floating wooden jetties, which Lizzy learned were called pontoons. The port’s lifeboat station was nearby, with the splendid orange and blue lifeboat rocking at its own special pontoon. And when you looked out past the crowded harbour, there was the great sweep of the bay, with the ancient castle of St Michael’s Mount standing up tall and magnificent from the surrounding sea.

  The whole bay was fringed with golden beaches, and the town’s own beach was separated from the harbour by the lighthouse headland. It was a wonderful place, with fine, white sand that seemed to stretch away for miles. Lizzy walked the length of it among the holiday crowds, exploring rock pools and jumping over the incoming waves as they played themselves out in the shallows. There was a safe bathing area patrolled by lifeguards. Lizzy was a good swimmer; at her last school she had been by far the best in her year. The sea was much colder than a swimming pool, but Mum and Dad had bought her a wetsuit as a ‘moving in’ present, and she was delighted to have the chance to use it.

  Lizzy was swimming in her new suit, rolling over in the waves and pretending to be a seal, when shouts from the shore caught her attention. As she stood up she saw people pointing out to sea. About fifty metres offshore were five dolphins. They were streaking across the bay, and then suddenly, as one, they leaped clear of the water, twisting gracefully in mid-air and plunging down again with barely a splash. Lizzy watched in delight and admiration, and had a sudden wild wish to swim to where they were and play with them, like a dolphin herself.

  A voice nearby said, ‘Fantastic, aren’t they?’ and Lizzy turned to see one of the lifeguards, a fair-haired Australian whom she had talked to once or twice, grinning at her.

  ‘They’re amazing!’ she agreed eagerly.

  ‘We often see them around here,’ the lifeguard told her. ‘They don’t usually come this close to shore, though. Must have seen something that interests them.’

  For no reason at all a funny little shiver went through Lizzy as he said that. ‘I’d love to get closer to them,’ she said.

  ‘Yeah? You ought to go out on a Sea Safari trip, then. A guy called Dave Pengelly runs them from the harbour. He takes people right along the coast specially to watch dolphins. There are other creatures too – you’ll see basking sharks, and the caves where the seals live.’

  Lizzy’s eyes lit up. ‘That would be so cool!’

  ‘Ask your mum and dad, then. They’ll probably want to go as well. It’s worth seeing.’ The lifeguard smiled again. ‘I’d better get back to work. Take care in the sea, yeah? Don’t go out of your depth.’

  He strolled away along the beach. The dolphins were still visible, but they were moving further away. Lizzy stared after them until
the bright sun hurt her eyes. Then she walked back to where she had left her towel, and flopped down on the sand. She would ask Mum and Dad about the Sea Safari as soon as she got home.

  Chapter Two

  Rose thought the Sea Safari was a brilliant idea, and to the girls’ delight Mr and Mrs Baxter didn’t take much persuading. The next day was fine, with a mixture of sunshine and cloud, so as soon as lunch was finished they all headed for the harbour and booked on the next two-hour trip.

  The boat was called the Sea Lion, and it was the strangest boat Lizzy had ever seen. The twelve seats inside the inflatable rubber hull looked like motorbike saddles arranged in pairs. The passengers sat astride and hung on to grab-handles, while Dave Pengelly – who was very young and good-looking, much to Rose’s approval – stood at the controls behind them.

  Dad was eager to show off his knowledge. ‘This kind of boat’s known as a RIB,’ he told the girls.

  ‘Rib?’ said Rose. ‘That’s a silly name! It doesn’t look anything like someone’s rib!’

  Dad laughed. ‘It stands for Rigid Inflatable Boat. They’re very stable – and very fast.’

  They found out how fast when they swung out from the harbour and headed towards the open sea. The Mount with its castle passed by on the left side (‘Port side’, Dad corrected smugly when Rose got it wrong), then the engine roared into full life. The ride was exhilarating. The boat skimmed over the water as though it were on skis, and every time they hit a swell, or the wash from another boat, they seemed to take off and fly, coming down again with a jolt that sent a burst of spray glittering into the air. The wind whipped Lizzy’s hair and blew salty-tasting strands into her mouth. She pretended she was riding a dolphin, and that the excited shrieks of the two middle-aged women in front of her were the dolphins’ cries as they forged through the water.

  ‘You two enjoying it?’ Dad shouted over the noise of the engine.

  ‘It’s fantastic!’ Lizzy called back. Rose was looking a bit green, but she nodded determinedly. ‘Yeah – great, Dad…’