Emily Windsnap and the Castle in the Mist (10 page)

We stared into the black night. The shape didn’t come back.

“I have no idea,” Millie said eventually. “I’ve never seen anything like it in my life. And I’m not one for superstition, as you know, but I’ll bet it’s portentous. Let me think.”

“What about the stars, though?” Shona asked. “There are constellations that can help us work out where we are, I’m sure of it. I just can’t remember what they’re called. Or what they look like.”

Which was a big help.

“I’ve got it!” Millie said, her eyes brightening. “I have a great idea.” She headed back inside the boat and beckoned me to follow.

For a moment, for one silly, ridiculous, heart-stopping moment, I actually thought she’d come up with a plan to get us out of this. I let myself hope. Until she said, “I’ll do our tarot cards.”

I followed Millie into the kitchen. “You clear a spot for us, and I’ll lay out the cards,” she said.

Shona swam up to the trapdoor as I pushed a couple of chairs to the side. She poked her head through, and I sat on the floor by the trapdoor to join her. Then Millie came in with the cards and we watched intently as she shuffled, spread the cards in a six-pointed star, and slowly turned them over one by one. She didn’t speak, didn’t explain anything. When they were all faceup, she sat looking at them for ages, nodding slowly.

“What do they say?” Shona asked.

“Do they say anything about my mom and dad?” I asked.

“Or mine?” Shona added quietly. That was the first time I had really thought about her parents. She’d been taken away from them too. They
wouldn’t have a clue what had happened to her. They hadn’t seen her since she went to school that morning. I’d been so selfishly wrapped up in my own problems, I hadn’t thought about Shona’s.

Would anyone tell them anything back at Allpoints Island? What would happen when Mom and Dad came home — assuming they ever did — and found that
Fortuna
wasn’t even there? Would they come after us? Would they know where to look? They’d find out, wouldn’t they? But what if they didn’t? Suppose they didn’t come home at all! Suppose they’d had such a big fight, they’d split up and both forgotten all about me!

No! I couldn’t let myself think like that. I couldn’t! Surely they’d do something. They’d get together with Shona’s parents and send out a search party or something.

They’ll find us. They’ll find us. They’ll find us.
I repeated the phrase over and over and over like a mantra.
Please let me believe it,
I added.

The cards didn’t tell us anything. Anything beyond what they normally said when Millie read anyone’s tarot cards. We had a long journey ahead and the outcome was uncertain. A tall, skinny stranger with jet-black hair would help guide us, the truth would
elude us, and all would be well in the end. Blah, blah. Why I ever put faith in Millie’s card reading, I don’t know. It was about as useful as trying to tell the time from examining your freckles.

“Look, let’s all try and get some sleep,” she said, shuffling the cards away when it was clear they hadn’t impressed either of us or helped us find an answer to any of the questions we weren’t saying out loud. “Things are bound to look better in the morning, once we’ve had a few hours’ nap — and perhaps a cup or two of Earl Grey.”

I stifled a laugh. Admittedly, a slightly hysterical one. It was really pretty hard to see how things were going to look better. But she had a point about the sleep thing. I was exhausted.

“Shona, you take Jake’s room,” Millie said. “You’ll be all right down there, won’t you?”

Shona bit her lip and nodded.

“I’ll join you if you like,” I said softly.

“No, it’s OK. I’ll be fine.”

“I’ll be just above you. Knock if you need me.”

Shona smiled, although her eyes stayed misty and sad.

“It’ll look better in the morning,” I said, repeating Millie’s lie. It kind of helped to keep saying these things out loud. If we did it often enough, perhaps they’d come true.

“Night-night, you two,” Millie said. “I’m going
to get some shut-eye myself now. Although goddess only knows how I’ll sleep without my agnus castus tablets.”

We each withdrew to our own rooms, our own thoughts, and our own fears.

The moon rose as I lay on my bed. I watched it climb past the porthole. A fat, wonky shape like a slightly deflated ball, it shone down on me, right at me, as though it were personal. Just me and the moon, staring each other down. It was getting fuller every day, every single moment. Racing me to my fate.

The black sky, endless behind it, filled slowly with clouds: some huge and unmoving, like snow-clad hills, others gray and broken-up, like crazy paving. Lighter, wispy clouds sailed slowly in front of them all. And the moon stood firm, almost whole, like a circle drawn freehand by a child. Not quite perfect but not far off.

“Please let this be a dream,” I whispered, twisting the ring around and around on my finger, talking to it as though it could hear my thoughts and turn them into reality. Was it a friend or enemy? What was its hold over Neptune — and over me? I couldn’t tell.
All I had was the knowledge that it was caught up in this whole nightmare with us — and the tiny feeling that it might help us find our way out of it too.

Please let me be back at Allpoints Island in the morning,
I prayed.
Please let me hear Mom and Dad arguing in the kitchen as soon as I wake up. Please.

Next time I looked, the clouds had all moved on. The stars were no longer visible either. Just the moon remained, bright and proud.
See?
it seemed to snicker at me.
I win.

There was a split second as I woke up when everything felt normal. Any second now, Mom would call me to get up and I’d have to drag myself out of bed. She hadn’t called yet, though. Still half asleep, I stretched and turned over in my warm bed. I was about to go back to my dreams — and then I remembered.

I sat bolt upright, then jumped out of bed and ran to the porthole.
Let me see Allpoints Island. Let us be back there.

I was greeted by the sight of mauve sea stretching out forever, everywhere I looked. Baby-blue sky. And the white line of mist hovering in the middle, dividing the two worlds.

“Emily, are you up?” Shona’s voice called quietly from below.

I ran to the trapdoor and dropped myself down to join her. As soon as my legs touched the water, I felt them change.
Please work properly this time,
I said to myself, and I held my breath as I felt my tail form. Closing my eyes, I focused for a moment on the feeling, willing it to work completely. But it didn’t. In fact, it was worse than before. Patches of scales were missing; the shine of my sparkling tail seemed duller; my tail moved more stiffly.

I swallowed my feelings and hoped Shona wouldn’t notice. I still didn’t want to admit it out loud: I wasn’t a mermaid half the time anymore. Now I wasn’t even close to being a real mermaid.

“Look.” Shona pulled me over to the large porthole door. We swam out through it, around the huge sandbank under the boat, and up to the surface, where we rested, treading water by the side of the boat. Directly ahead of us, hovering on the line of mist as though it were floating, the castle stood bold and gleaming in the sunlight. “I think we should go to it,” Shona said, echoing my thoughts from yesterday.

“On the boat? How? You saw the sails.”

Shona was shaking her head. “No, I meant just you and me. We could swim there. It doesn’t look far.”

It was still early. I could tell by how low the sun was in the sky. In fact, now that I looked, I could
still see the moon, hanging on like the last guest at a party, reluctant to leave but fading and tired. Could I edge ahead in the battle that was silently taking place between us? Millie would still be in bed. She always slept late. We could get there. As soon as the thought came into my mind, my hand grew hot. The ring — it was telling me something, I was sure of it!

It was telling us to go.

“Come on,” I said, feeling hopeful for the first time since we’d landed here. “Let’s do it.”

“How long have we been swimming?” I asked, panting to catch up with Shona. Surely she was swimming faster than usual! I could hardly keep up with her.

“Not sure. Maybe twenty minutes, half an hour, tops.”