Sirens (The Blue Planets World series Book 2)
Page 6
Mom tilted her head now and said thoughtfully. “Well, maybe I don’t have to be in New York. Many politicians are still here in Scotland. And London would be a good base to find others to talk with.”
Jake nodded and winced at the pain in his stomach. “I don’t know if I want you to travel far right now. ELLIS might hijack our plane or plant a bomb on it or—”
“Oh, stop,” Mom said. “We take precautions. We can’t live in fear.”
That was an ironic statement, Jake thought. All his life he’d lived in fear of volcanic eruptions. Fear of a hijacking or a bomb was no different.
“But,” Mom continued, “we can’t stay here for long. By New Year’s Day, I want to be back in New York. If not before.”
Jake grinned in elation. That gave him ten days to find Em. He finished his muffin and reached for another, confident that he’d already won. If Mom was thinking of alternatives, then he wouldn’t have to leave right away.
But his emotions crashed when he thought about the difficulties of finding Em. He wondered if she was drinking coffee and eating Earth muffins, or if she was sick and in some hospital.
Suddenly, he wasn’t hungry anymore. Shoving away his muffin, he stood and strode to stare out the window at the city of Edinburgh. She was an ancient city that held many secrets. He was so tired of secrets and searching and coming up short. He just wanted to find Em. Now.
What would make her so sick that they had to spirit her away?
He shook his head in despair. The one thing that drove him was the uncertainty. That, and the word she had scrawled on her doctor’s business card: Help!
10
Merlin Charters
December 21
The next morning, Jake, Jillian and David piled into a small car with Colonel Barbena. She passed around lattes to the teens, who were still yawning. And she handed Jake a small package.
“It’s the GPS you asked for,” she said.
“Colonel, is it easy driving on the wrong side of the road?” Jillian asked.
Colonel Barbena said, “Not bad. You get used to it fast. By the way, today I’m just a chaperone, not military. Call me Hilario.”
Jake rubbed sleep from his eyes and realized she wasn’t dressed in her usual military uniform, but had on a warm jacket, boots and a stocking cap with a blond braid sticking out the bottom. Still, it was strange to think of her by her first name.
St. Abbs was only 75-80 kilometers (or 45-50 miles) away, an easy drive. The Scottish landscape held Jake spellbound. Rumbling hills and uneven dry-stone walls near the city gave way to spectacular views of the brilliant blue sea that sparkled under clear skies. Only an occasional white brushstroke of a cloud broke the expanse of blue above. The glimpses of the water teased the three teens, who were anxious to be out on the water—or in the water. Jake longed for cold winds, sea gulls and a wide-open sea. They wouldn’t swim today, of course. Instead, they’d go out on a charter boat, as Lady Coombe had suggested. Still, they’d be on the water. And they were doing something solid to search for Em. Meanwhile, Mom, accompanied by Colonel Lett, would be consulting with politicians all day.
His stomach ached. The knife slash flamed an angry red this morning, but that was only part of the ache. Inside, desperation grew with each passing mile. If he didn’t find Em soon, it would be too late. She’d been missing for over three weeks already. His grandparents on Bainbridge Island, Sir and Easter, checked Em’s house every day, but it was still empty. Phoke was their only clue.
Finally, the waters of the St. Abbs Harbor lay before them, dotted with large craggy rocks, some covered in ancient moss and others in luminous golden lichen. The stone houses with red tiled roofs and the three-story whitewashed houses with slate roofs carried a rugged charm that softened the stark winter landscape, all gray and brown. Perhaps in the summer when green lay across the undulating landscape, and glass-bottom boat tours were popular, it would be called beautiful. Now, on this clear but frigid day, it wasn’t its beauty that held Jake’s interest, but its strength. It was a powerful landscape, one that hinted of magic and mystery.
What was Aberforth Hills? Jake wondered. And where was it? And was Em even anywhere near Aberforth Hills? If this outing turned up nothing, he had few ideas or leads on where to turn next. He sipped his latte and wondered if he and Em would ever get back to the Blackbird Bakery on Bainbridge Island.
Hilario found parking easily. Walking down to the harbor, the wind cut sharply through their jackets. Behind them, a line of humble houses silhouetted the horizon. Before them, frothy waves broke across massive rocks before tumbling onto scoured gravel beaches. It wasn’t a day for tourists.
Pushing into the tiny office of Merlin Charters, Hilario took the lead. “Hello?” she called. “Anyone here?”
From behind a short counter, an old man answered. “Aye.”
“Good,” Hilario answered. “We have a charter reservation for the day.”
“T’will be cold on the water. Are ye that sure now that you want to be going out?”
“Aye,” Jake answered, mimicking the man’s Scottish accent. “The Lady Zuzanna Coombe sent us to you. Her grandmother lived here in St. Abbs, I believe.”
“Aye.” The man wore a heavy, dark polished-cotton jacket and loose waterproof pants. “Her mother would be Freya Watley, a fine woman, gone these ten years.”
Jake nodded. “Mrs. Watley told her daughter stories of Aberforth Hills. That’s what we’d like to see today.”
The man fingered his white beard and blinked dark eyes at them. “Ye’ve come to chase a myth? For that’s all it tis, a story.”
Jillian snapped a couple photos of the old man. “What’s your name? Can I take your photo? Will you tell us the story of Aberforth Hills?” She jabbed at her phone, obviously uploading the photos to some social media or other. The photo of the old Scottish sailor would be popular on her accounts.
“I’m Captain Crow. Sure, and I don’t care if ye take my photo. And no, I won’t repeat a story that’s just a myth.” He picked up a fishing net and starting spreading it out for inspection. “I’ll tell ye again. There’s nothing but water to see, and t’will be a cold day on the seas. Ye really don’t want to go out.”
David stepped forward now. “Sir, we’re Americans from Seattle, Washington, which is on the Pacific Ocean, so we’re used to cold days on the water. Seattle is far enough north that your town feels familiar. We’re not looking for anything sensational, just doing some sightseeing. Regardless of any story you tell us or don’t tell us, we want to go out on the water. But if a story would make it more—” he waved a hand “—I don’t know. If it would make the trip more magical, well, that’s all we’re looking for.”
What was it about David that made his request seem so reasonable and peaceful? Jake wondered. Because the old man’s face softened.
“Well, sightseeing, we can do that. Aye,” said Captain Crow. Suddenly, he smiled. “Sure, and I’ll take ye to see Aberforth Hills.”
Jake stared at his dimpled cheeks. He got the impression there was a private joke here somewhere, but without something solid to base that feeling on, there was nothing to do but smile and agree. After all, they were getting what they wanted.
Captain Crow’s boat was old, but in excellent shape. Stepping aboard the Captain patted the deck rails affectionately.
“Gretchen?” Jillian asked, snapping a photo of the boat’s name. “Was there a real Gretchen?”
Captain Crow’s face sagged under his cap. “My wife. Gone these twenty years.”
Jillian said, “Do you have children?”
Apparently, though, the Captain was finished with small talk. He went to work checking his motor and generally bustling around doing things that Jake didn’t understand. In the end, the motor purred.
Crow was used to tourist work and made sure his guests were comfortably seated behind a glass pane that kept the worst of the wind off them. He piled blankets on a seat and said, “Use what ye like.”
It seemed only Jake was hot. He unbuttoned his jacket and sat at the back of the boat away from the glass screen.
“Anyone get seasickness?” Captain Crow asked.
That brought smiles from all of them. David answered for them, “We’re pretty comfortable on the water.”
“Then let’s go see Aberforth Hills.” Captain Crow cast off the lines, and then steered the boat out into the open water of the harbor.
Jake was beginning to wonder if Captain Crow’s dimples came with a strange sense of humor. He refused to talk while piloting the boat, but ever so often, he looked over at the teens and broke into a full smile, complete with the dimples. Like he was enjoying some joke, but he was the only one who knew the punch line.
Meanwhile, Jake got busy with his technology. First, he made sure the GPS app on his smart phone was on and working, and then he stashed the phone in an inside pocket where he wouldn’t be tempted to keep looking at it. Instead, he asked the Captain if he had a pocketknife and cut open the hard plastic of a package. He handed the knife back to Captain Crow, who asked, “What’s that?”
“GPS,” Jake said.
Captain Crow dipped his head and looked away toward the horizon.
Jake spread out the setup instructions and started setting the time, date and other settings until it was working, and he had a GPS reading.
Looking up, he realized they were far out to sea now, with land a distant horizon.
“How much farther?” he asked.
Shrugging, Captain Crow said, “To find a myth? We could go forever.” But he kept motoring anyway. Apparently, he had some destination in mind.
Even in the full wind, Jake was hot. His stomach wound itched, but it hurt to scratch. Up front, David and Jillian were chatting, while Hilario seemed to be napping. Maybe Jake should’ve told Mom about the wound. But there were no Risonian doctors here, and really, what could she do but wait and see if it healed on its own? He’d saved her a worry she didn’t need after the Puentes disaster. Still, it was starting to worry Jake. Risonians rarely ever ran a temperature like humans because their body temperatures were already hotter. But he didn’t feel so good.
Without warning, the boat slowed and stopped. The waves here were gentle, so the boat just rocked.
“I’ll get our lunch,” Captain Crow said. “And then, we’ll talk.”
Again, the Captain proved to be experienced in dealing with tourists. He poured steaming tea from a huge thermos, and then handed around sausage sandwiches on hand-made rolls. A giant tin of shortbread—the Scottish did know how to make shortbread!—completed the simple meal. But on the water, the simple fare was a treat.
And then, he talked.
“I’ll tell ye the tale of Aberforth Hills,” Captain Crow began. “Once long, long ago, the Mer folk lived only in the warm seas, like the Mediterranean. Slowly, though, some of the Mer took to land, and of course, they became fishermen and expert in the ways of boats. And by and by, they came to the North Sea. Here, they found amber. Do you know of amber?”
“Yes,” David said. “We stopped at a jewelry store yesterday, and they told us how it was made, and why the North Sea has so much of it.
Captain Crow nodded and continued, “Soon they began trading the baubles at various ports. A rich trade quickly grew up around the harvesting and sale of amber. If the stories of Aberforth Hills are true, then it was amber that brought the Mer folk here.”
“The Phoke,” Jillian corrected.
“Pah!” exploded Captain Cross. “They are the Mer, not the Phoke. Why would ye use some Greek word for Scottish mermen and mermaids?”
“It’s an updated name.” Jillian shrugged. “For the 21st century.”
Captain Cross waved a hand dismissing the whole younger generation. “Anyway, the Mer built Aberforth Hills as the center of amber trade. Made them rich.”
Even if it was a story, Jake found it encouraging that the water folk had found something valued by the humans to trade. They’d found their economic niche in the human world. If—no, when—the Risonians were allowed to come to Earth, they’d face similar problems of how to earn a living. They’d need to figure out what jobs they could do better than humans and then figure out how to do them for a profit.
“Is Aberforth Hills still there? Under us right now?” Jake asked softly.
Captain Crow threw back his head and laughed, a deep belly laugh. “It’s a story, boy. A myth.”
Jake didn’t like being laughed at, but really, what had he expected? They were in the middle of the North Sea, at some random place probably. There was no Aberforth Hills.
But then, where was Em? It was an ache in his gut that he couldn’t quiet.
“What’s the water depth here?” David asked.
Captain Crow looked at his gauges and answered, “About 90 meters. 89.3. 90.2. The readings vary as we drift.”
Jake mentally translated that to American measurements: roughly 270 feet deep.
Peering over the boat’s side, David asked. “Could we figure out if there are seven hills under us?”
“Aye. If ye had the time and the gas to do it. Ye’d need to drive a grid across this empty ocean and track the depth.”
Hilario leaned forward now. “There are depth charts of the seas, right?”
Captain Crow shrugged. “Aye. In shipping lanes, especially. But in reality, we’ve only mapped maybe 10% of the sea floors. Here?” He nodded toward the water. “No one has mapped the whole of the North Sea. There could be dozens of hills. For that matter, what’s your definition of a hill? A hill might be something that’s 100 meters taller than the sea floor. Or does 50 meters make it a hill?”
Jake felt disgruntled. He’d paid to see Aberforth Hills. Instead, there was just the open sea and pointless questions.
Something was suspicious, though. There was a certain bravado about the captain, like he’s just pulled a good joke on this American kid.
What if—despite everything—Captain Crow had indeed brought them to Aberforth Hills? What if it was right underneath them as they spoke? The irony of the possibility made Jake cringe.
He consulted his new GPS unit and saved the current readings. He must find a way to return to this point and go swimming. Hilario and Mom wouldn’t allow it, probably. Or maybe it was close enough to shore that he could swim out some night. With his legs Velcroed, he was a fast swimmer—and the nights were long this time of year. Would David and Jillian go for the idea?
Hilario looked at him now and asked, “Are you OK? Your face is red.”
Jake frowned and said, “Just hot.”
“Hot?” Captain Crow asked in surprise. “It’s cold out here, and ye’ve been sitting in the wind.”
“We’re stopped. The wind isn’t bad now,” Jake said grumpily.
Hilario threw off her blanket, stepped to his side, and laid a hand first on his forehead and then on his cheek. “You are hot.” Her eyebrows drew together in confusion. “Why?”
Jake waved a hand. “Nothing.”
“Why?” she demanded more vehemently.
Jake hesitated. His stomach wound was hurting even more now. Maybe he should let her look.
Just then, a large wave heaved the boat upward. Thrown off balance, Captain Crow fell heavily onto Jake, knocking the GPS unit from his hands. Jake watched it sail over the side of the boat and disappear into the depths. Hilario hauled the Captain off Jake and shoved him to the opposite side of the deck. With a wide-legged stance for balance, she stood with her arms up like she was ready to fight.
Jake stood and put a hand on her shoulder to let her know that he was all right. He glared at the Captain. “Why’d you do that?
That GPS was brand new.”
“The wave knocked me off balance.” His voice was calm, almost reassuring.
For a moment, they stared each other down, but the old man gave in first. He shrugged, went back to the motor, and started it. Hilario shrugged, but sat beside Jake just in case. The boat turned and headed back to shore.
Hilario started to say something about Jake’s temperature, but he shook his head. “When we get back to shore.”
Hilario frowned, but that’s all she’d get while they were with someone else, Jake thought. He wouldn’t show her anything until they had privacy.
Still sitting in the wind at the back of the boat, Jake watched the old sea captain work. It could be a coincidence, he thought. The GPS unit had been a sort of test. Would Captain Crow let him mark the spot? Or would he do something to make sure they didn’t return to that exact, nondescript spot on the sea? Maybe the wave had been an accident. But Captain Crow didn’t seem like the casual sort of seaman to let a small wave knock him off balance.
Either way, Jake still had the GPS app on his smart phone. He would return to that spot and see what lay under the waves.
11
A Tour of Aberforth Hills
December 21
“My dad is a Captain in the Aberforth Hills militia. He sent me over to show you the city.” Shelby Bulmer, the nurse’s aide held Em’s arm to lend her support, even though Em was much stronger today. She had been allowed to dress in jeans, t-shirt and tennis shoes. He wore loose-fitting hospital scrubs.
“Why does he want me to see the city?” Em asked. She was studying Shelby carefully, trying to see what made him a Mer instead of a human. His hair, ears, hands, arms, legs—everything looked normal to her.
Shelby had blond hair and a Nordic look. She also guessed that he did some body-building because his arms were so muscled. If she got too tired on this city tour, she was confident that he could carry her back to the hospital. He said, “They want you to go to school here.”