Secret of the Sirens

by Julia Golding

  “Ah, yes,” said Jessica vaguely, not meeting her eye. Connie had the weird feeling that Jessica understood her aunt even if she didn’t.

  Silence fell between them for a few minutes. Connie could sense Evelyn’s eyes boring into the back of her head. Since the letter came from Mr. Quick complaining about Connie’s trespass at the docks, Jessica was no longer regarded as such a safe friend for the universal by her aunt. Col must also have heard about their adventure by now. He was sitting a few rows behind with the dragon-riding twins—she wondered what he thought of it all. Did he know that he had been partly to blame for sending Anneena in search of faulty machinery?

  Well, she wasn’t going to hear what he thought about it from him, was she? The frosty atmosphere between them had gone on for so long now she didn’t think anything could thaw it. With a sigh, she flicked some crumbs off her new brown flying-suit. She wanted to keep it in pristine condition for her first ride on Morjik that night.

  “What’s Tintagel like?” she asked, her thoughts turning to tonight’s event.

  “It’s an ancient castle ruin by the sea—right on the edge of a cliff,” Jessica replied. “It’s well-known as a place of myth and legend—home to those dragon-butchering knights of King Arthur.”

  It was dark as the van bumped into the parking lot—a field borrowed from a friendly farmer. There were already many cars and buses under the trees. Connie could see people lining up like a crowd for a big game, all talking excitedly and greeting old friends with enthusiasm. She followed her party past the registration desk—a sign read “Society members only beyond this point”—and down a steep torch-lit path leading to the beach. The flames leapt into the darkness, casting dancing shadows upon the eager faces of the people crowding down to the sea. Connie let herself be swept along, a thrill of anticipation bubbling inside her.

  Almost at sea level, in a valley between two cliffs, the crowd slowed as each member took their place in the line to climb the steep steps leading up to Tintagel castle. The ruins perched on the top of a spit of land—almost an island—a wide, flat-topped dome of rock that jutted out to sea. Underneath, the waves had tunnelled persistently over the centuries, trying to sever the castle’s frail tie to the mainland and cast it adrift on the water forever. Connie could see the gaping mouth of a cave that yawned at the base of the cliff and hear the boom of waves smiting stone. The ground seemed to tremble under her feet on the verge of surrender to the power of the sea.

  Mounting the wooden steps as quickly as she could, Connie emerged on to a grass-covered courtyard. Entering through an archway, she touched a grassy tussock peeping out of a crevice of one of the walls and sensed that the ancient turf was eagerly waiting for the celebration to begin. Surrounded on three sides by tumbled castle walls like jagged, broken teeth, Connie looked nervously over the low wall on the fourth side. It barely concealed a gaping black void and a perilous drop down to the waves. Far below, Scark circled above the wave crests. Connie smiled to see that he, too, had flown in for the celebration.

  “Not that way!” called Jessica. “We’ve got to go higher!”

  Higher? thought Connie with a shudder. She hated heights.

  “The meeting’s to take place on the very top—follow me.”

  Connie trod in Jessica’s footsteps up yet more stairs and on to the flattened summit of Tintagel. She began to breathe more easily now that she was no longer near the cliff-edge. Arriving at the top, she saw that the crowd had formed itself into a square, in the midst of which was a huge bonfire—as yet unlit. A cold breeze blew in from the sea, carrying the sound of the waves to Connie’s ears. Tonight, the sound seemed charged with meaning; Connie’s hair was sparking, her skin tingling. It was as if Tintagel had become a great harp, with taut strings of unseen energy stretching from wall to wall, resonating harmoniously with every breath of wind.

  “You can feel it?” Jessica asked excitedly, grabbing her hand and squeezing it. “It’s the sea creatures: they’re here, too. Arran and the other selkies are out there.”

  Connie returned the pressure: yes, she could feel it. Here, surrounded by all these Society members, she felt secure and completely at home. She knew that she was grinning with pure happiness—she couldn’t help herself. She looked around the hilltop. There were hundreds of people gathered, but even they seemed lost on the vast plateau. It made her realize just how few people were left to protect the mythical creatures.

  “Is this everyone?” she asked Jessica.

  Jessica nodded. “Uh-huh. There used to be thousands of us in Britain, but the Society’s been dwindling for years—fewer gifts are being identified so its membership’s in decline. That’s why you are so important, you see. They’ve been calling you ‘the turn of the tide’ in the Society’s fortunes. They say that if the universals can come back, why not others?”

  Jessica’s confidence in her was misplaced, thought Connie. It would take more than one person to make a difference. She quickly found a seat beside Jessica with the Sea Snakes and tried to make herself inconspicuous. They waited. Everyone, sharing a common instinct, fell silent.

  It was then that the mythical creatures made their entrance. The first Connie and Jessica knew of their approach was the drumming of hooves on soft turf, deep percussion to the humming vibration of the wind. On to the summit from the west swept a stampede of animals, all shapes, colors, and sizes. At their head was Windfoal, dipping her gilded horn as she passed the bonfire in a majestic circle; behind her, bellowing, neighing, roaring in a cacophony of sound, came centaurs, pegasi, bull-headed minotaurs, rams with golden fleeces, great bears, giants, and many other creatures that Connie could not name. At the same time that these beasts entered the field, creatures from the three other companies were also arriving. Opposite the Two-Fours, Connie saw a cloud of flying animals swirling down from the east, led by a dark shape flashing and flickering with white fire—Storm-Bird. She could see little of the group arriving behind the Elementals, but she had no difficulty making out the squadron of dragons zooming in from the night-sky in a great arrow formation, led by Morjik. As they swept over the bonfire, Morjik let out a great gout of flame, and it burst into life.

  Once the mythical creatures had taken up position with their companies, eight figures walked or flew forward to stand in the center.

  “They’re the Trustees,” Connie whispered to Jessica, pleased for once to know something about the Society that her friend did not.

  Kira Okona held up her hand, and an expectant silence fell over all those present.

  “Welcome,” the companion to unicorns said in a loud, clear voice, “in the name of the Trustees and the worldwide family of the Society for the Protection of Mythical Creatures, I welcome you all to a very special celebration. We have rarely been among you on your bonfire night; but then, never before have we had the arrival of a universal companion to celebrate.” A murmur of wonder rippled through the crowd. It grew to a rumble like thunder and suddenly burst out into cheers and laughter. Connie hid her face in her scarf. She could feel the creatures present seeking her out. All around her, members were hugging each other; some were crying with joy.

  “Who is it? Where are they?” she heard pass from person to person. Jessica looked across at her once, winked, and then stared resolutely ahead, keeping her knowledge to herself.

  Kira held up her hand, and the noise slowly died down. “Please, my mythical friends, do not try to bond with the universal: there are too many of you!”

  Laughter fluttered across the square. Connie felt the presence of hundreds of creatures subside back to the tingling energy she had first experienced.

  “And my human friends, our universal is still young and, how can I put it, a little camera-shy? You will meet her when she is ready, so please be patient.”

  Connie felt relieved. For one awful moment she thought she was going to be dragged up to the front and singled out for everyone to look at.

  “But, on a sobering note, we have also come to ask yo
u to remain watchful. It is no coincidence that with the return of a universal has come the resurgence of our greatest enemy. As you will already know from the alert sent out to your chapters, the shape-shifting creature Kullervo has returned and is expected in this region by the time the winter storms arrive.”

  From the crowd’s silence, Connie could tell that this was not news to anyone there, but a chilling reminder.

  “However, let us not be troubled by such dark thoughts this evening. Tonight is a night of celebration—celebration of all our gifts and of the bonds that bind us to our companions. So, in the time-honored custom of your country, let us celebrate with entertainment provided by the four companies. Tonight it is the turn of the Company of the Four Elements to open our festivities.”

  Beckoning to the north of the circle, Kira fell back to sit with the Two-Fours. All the other Trustees, except the rock dwarf, rejoined their companies. Gard waited as a troop of hooded rock dwarfs marched forward, each carrying a set of chimes on a wooden stand and a small silver hammer. They set these in a circle around Gard and, throwing back their hoods, prepared to play.

  Connie gasped. She had not seen Gard’s face before as he had kept it hidden in the depths of his hood. She had been expecting the dwarfs to resemble the bearded little old men she had seen in her books of fairytales and was completely taken aback. The dwarfs, though human in form, were more like rock-hewn statues come to life than men. Some had a blue-black, smooth surface formed into angular features like basalt; others had powdery white, soft contours like chalk; one striking individual appeared to be made from rock crystal and shone luminescent in the flickering light; Gard himself had a coal-black sheen to his craggy hands and face.

  With a solemn bow to the audience, the rock dwarfs began to play. Striking the chimes in intricate order, they produced music that seemed to have been formed out of the materials of the Earth itself, making Connie think of hammers tapping in deep mines, of the rumble of rocks falling down mountainsides, the tinkle of gemstones pouring onto a treasure-house floor. It was not music as she was used to—you could not say it was either harmonious or beautiful, but it was mesmerizing with its insistent beat and strange clashing notes. All too soon for Connie, the music ended and the dwarfs bowed as those assembled applauded with varying degrees of enthusiasm.

  “Thank goodness that’s over.” Jessica groaned.

  “You didn’t like it?” asked Connie, amazed.

  It was Jessica’s turn to be surprised. “Meaning you did? I couldn’t make head or tail of it. A jumble of grating and ringing sounds that seemed to go on and on: how could you like it?”

  Connie laughed. “Well, it didn’t sound like that to me!”

  “Hmm,” Jessica brooded, “perhaps this is what the universal gift is all about. But if it means having to appreciate such awful music, then maybe you aren’t so fortunate after all.”

  The rock dwarfs left the arena to the enthusiastic applause of the Elementals and polite claps of the rest. Their place was taken by a band of young people from the Sea Snakes.

  Jessica nudged Connie. “Now, this will be more like it! Now the dancing can start.”

  The band—two fiddles, a flute, a drum, and a guitar—began to play a tune, loosely based on a Scottish folk song, but they added their own harmonies, soaring above the melody or throbbing underneath as a bass accompaniment. Closing her eyes to concentrate on what she was hearing, Connie realized that they were trying to capture their experience in Sea Snakes—the wash of the sea and the thrill of dragon-flight. Then other youngsters broke from the ranks of Sea Snakes and began to dance. They held hands and wove in and out of one another like the tentacles of some great sea beast. Connie found herself pulled off the ground by Jessica and attached to the end of a line. As the dance swirled around a bend, her feet almost lifted from the ground, so fast was her chain going. The dancing got wilder. Creatures and companions amassed around the bonfire—banshees writhed with Evelyn in their midst; fire imps flickered in and out of the flames, their companions jumping after them; pegasi flew in great looping circles overhead, their riders shouting and laughing. Col and Skylark dove toward Connie then swooped at the last moment out to sea. Bears stood on their hind paws and danced clumsily with their companions, growling to the music. Mr. Masterson galloped by on the back of a great boar, his face shining with delight. Connie’s chain of dancers finally stumbled over one another and finished in a pile of giggling, breathless bodies.

  “Enough, enough!” Kira laughed over the hubbub. Wind-foal neighed, summoning the creatures to return to their sides of the square. Slowly order was restored, and Connie found herself back among the Sea Snakes, her arm linked to Jessica on one side and to a boy she didn’t know on the other. They staggered back to their places, grinning at one another.

  “I’m exhausted,” Connie panted to Jessica.

  “So am I. That was wild!”

  Dancing over, the celebration drew to a close. A quieter mood stole over the crowd as a procession of ten dragons and ten riders entered from opposite ends of the field. At the head of the lines were Dr. Brock and Argot. Connie sat up eagerly; she had heard many hints about the surprise the doctor had prepared, and she could not wait to see what he had in store. Red, chestnut, slate blue, gray, green: the dragons seemed to glow in the darkness. The riders bowed to their mounts and then vaulted nimbly into their seats. The dragons beat their wings in unison and flawlessly took off together.

  “That’s very impressive!” Connie exclaimed to Jessica.

  “Just wait—there must be more. Synchronized flying we’ve seen before, but Dr. Brock has promised us something special.”

  The dragons circled around the castle in a great wheel. Then, on a signal from Argot, they dove down to the campfire. As the dragons plummeted back to earth, they opened their jaws and breathed out a waterfall of silver sparks. The crowd gave an appreciative murmur as the beautiful rain drifted slowly down, winking out as the sparks touched the ground. The riders leaned forward and gave their mounts something in their mouths before the dragons rose again. Each creature took a place on the rim of the great wheel. Flying at a gentle pace, the dragons turned their heads and let out streamers of red flame. From below, the effect was of an enormous red circle blazing in the night sky.

  Suddenly, two young dragons zipped in from the north and released a salvo of flashes and explosions. Flares shot into the sky and burst in popping streaks of gold and red. There were shrieks and cheers from the watching crowd as the sound reverberated from cliff to cliff.

  Then came the finale. The dragons broke from their wheel and plunged down upon the heads of the spectators below, showering them with gold, emerald, and topaz sparks, building a great firestorm until the dragons could barely be glimpsed in the fizzing and spitting explosions above. Then all went black. The crowd craned their necks to spot the creatures in the darkness above, but they had vanished. Next, as if out of nowhere, there was a great rush of wind and the dragons split in pairs five ways, showering green sparks over the Two-Fours, tawny-gold over the Elementals, orange over the Sea Snakes, and blue over the High Flyers. The final pair flew over the bonfire and spun a silver circle of fire that hovered for a moment before fading.

  “Ha!” Jessica cried appreciatively. “They’ve honored each company, including yours—the silver circle, the compass, is your sign.”

  Connie was touched. While content to remain anonymous amongst the Sea Snakes, she was pleased that Dr. Brock had honored her gift in this way. He had certainly made good use of Gard’s rocks. She had spotted that the riders were feeding the dragons different minerals to produce fireworks out of their fiery bellies.

  The crowd went into a frenzy of appreciation, applauding, whistling, and shouting as the dragons landed as perfectly as they had taken off.

  “Trust Dr. Brock and Argot to bring it to an end with a bang!” Connie laughed, joining the standing ovation with the others.

  17

  Kullervo

  Sile
nce after celebration. As the last revelers filed back to the parking lot, Connie was left in the arena in happy anticipation of the next encounter in her training. Scark pecked at a sandwich crust a stone’s throw away, keeping a wary eye on her. He seemed to like to know where she was these days, Connie had noticed, like a fussy parent.

  “It’s all right, Scark,” said Connie softly. “I arranged with Dr. Brock that Morjik will fetch me for my first night flight once all the other animals and people have gone. We’re going to fly back to the Mastersons’ house. You really don’t need to follow me around like this. I’ll be fine.”

  Scark gave a sceptical squawk and tossed the crust to one side.

  Waiting as Morjik said farewell to his fellow dragons, Connie could hear the waves washing on the rocks below, barely disturbed by the slight cold breeze blowing from the sea, where Shirley’s weather giant was rumored to be in residence. Enchanted by the perfection of the night sky, she thought it was a fine evening for a dragon ride. Why couldn’t she see the stars like this at home? she wondered, marvelling at the constellations wheeling overhead. She could see so many more here than at Hescombe, where the lights from the refinery and from Chartmouth leached their twinkle from the sky.

  Connie flashed her torch idly around the meeting place: it was empty now and she had only the glowing embers of the bonfire for company. The dying light cast stark shadows on the broken walls that teetered precariously on the very brink of the precipice. Checking her watch, she found that it was only five to eleven; Kinga had warned her that Morjik would take some time saying good-bye: dragons, though solitary creatures, relished the opportunity of their rare meetings for passing on the knowledge and news of their kind. Resigned to a long wait, she sat down on a fallen pedestal at a safe distance from the cliff-edge. There she watched the inky folds of water edged with white collapse on to the rocks far below and drain away, to be replaced by another wave on the same eternal journey.