Magnus Fin and the Selkie Secret (10 page)

Feeling like the loneliest seal in the world, Magnus Fin hauled himself up the stony beach, and on his belly slid over pebbles, sand and seaweed towards the cave. Miranda’s words echoed in his mind:
Go to the sunken ship.

As Fin rocked over tangles of seaweed he wondered, with a shudder, who or what he might find in the sunken ship. Earlier he had longed to explore there. Now he wasn’t so sure. He felt so tired. He splayed his strong flippers on to the springy seaweed and dragged himself forward. It was still light. Fin felt the early evening sun warm his back. It was pleasant being a seal. He was in no rush to drag himself into the cave, take off his seal skin and change back into his human form. He lay near the entrance to the cave for a moment, lowering his sleek black head onto a tangle of pungent seaweed. The moon-stone, which even as a seal he wore on a leather lace around his neck, nestled in amongst the red and green tangles. He breathed in the strong smell, feeling his whole body relax. All he wanted to do was sleep.

As sluggish waves lapped at his back and a few crows cawed on the hillside Magnus Fin slept. He had forgotten how what feels like hours spent in the selkie world can be just a few minutes on land. So he didn’t hear the boy in the black jacket enter the cave. He didn’t hear him
hiss into the darkness, “Think you’re gonna give Billy Mole the slip? Think again, fish boy.” He didn’t hear Billy Mole stumble in the darkness of the cave and trip up. He didn’t hear him scramble to his feet, muttering, “What’s this then? Interesting! Very interesting!” He didn’t hear Billy Mole hit the interesting thing and rattle it, and shake it, and thump it, and prod and pry. He didn’t hear him grab the lid and yank it.

What he did hear was a piercing scream. It cut into his slumber like a knife. Startled, Magnus Fin opened his eyes. He jolted his head up from his seaweed pillow. Was he dreaming? Another scream tore the air. Fin slithered forward. He rocked and bounced towards the cave, then stopped.

The boy came reeling out of the cave, grasping his hand and howling in agony. “Help!” he shrieked. “Somebody help me!”

Magnus Fin knew instantly what had happened. The stranger had tried to open the kist. Fin stared at the howling teenager, who turned and locked eyes with the seal. The seal had one green eye, one brown eye and a moon-stone around his neck. Fin’s eyes fell to the boy’s hand. It had swollen. It was bleeding.

In a flash Magnus Fin swung round, rocked furiously over the stones and slipped back into the sea. He swam as fast as he could, slicing through the slack water. He remembered the way to the northern kelp forest and in no time was there. Plunging down amongst the dusky brown fronds he tore up fat strands of kelp with his teeth.

With the strands trailing from his mouth he turned towards the coast and sped back through the water. As
he broke the surface he heard the whimpers and wails of the teenager who was now crouching on the beach, gripping his swollen hand and rocking back and forth.

Fin hauled up the beach. He felt a pebble land on his back, then another and another. With his good hand the teenager was pelting him. Magnus Fin howled and rocked faster, dragging himself closer and closer to the boy.

Billy Mole stared, horrified, as a black seal approached him. He let the pebble fall. He screamed. He tried to get up but his knees buckled under him.

Pushing down with his flippers Magnus Fin raised his head up and stared at the trembling teenager, who from that moment on was powerless to move. Nor could he peel his eyes away. He could only stare and stare, as a black seal with hypnotic mismatched eyes approached him and, with a flipper which looked uncannily like a hand, wrapped slimy stuff around the teenager’s swollen hand.

No scream came from Billy Mole. His jaw fell. His skin paled. His whole body trembled uncontrollably. When the kelp bandage was fastened, the black seal slid quickly away.

When Magnus Fin, five minutes later, wearing his red hoodie and jeans, covered the kist once more with the seaweed disguise, ran out of the cave and scrambled up the hillside, the teenager in the black jacket was still sitting on the beach in shock, staring at his hand.

“Tarkin!”

Tarkin dropped the book he was reading. His whole body tightened. He didn’t like his mother’s tone of voice, not one bit. He didn’t answer.

“I said Tarkin!”

“I’m busy,” he mumbled. He jumped off his bed and fumbled for the book. He had to look busy.
Let it not be the necklace – please!

“I want to talk to you and right now; I don’t care if you’re busy. Come on through here this instant.”

Tarkin couldn’t believe it. How come his mother suddenly missed the necklace? He took it days ago. Why now? His mind raced. Maybe it wasn’t the necklace she was mad about? Maybe he’d done something else wrong? He racked his brains. What could it be?

“Now!”

She sounded seriously angry. Tarkin stood up and went to his bedroom door. His heart thumped. His mother was never like this. She usually sang pop songs, and called him honey. It scared him. He crept through to the kitchen, quaking, as if he was walking the gangplank like the boy in his book. He took a deep breath, then opened the kitchen door. His mother was standing by the breakfast bar, her hands on her hips and her thick blonde hair spilling from its tartan ribbon. Her face was red. She looked as though she would explode.

“Well?” she said, her whole body shaking.

“Well what?” Tarkin replied in a quiet voice. He looked down at the floor, at the grainy pattern in the wood.

“Don’t ‘well what’ me. You know perfectly well what. Did you or did you not take my pearl necklace?”

Tarkin mumbled, still studying the floor. “Dunno what you’re talking about.”

Martha sighed loudly then marched over, took his chin in her hand and thrust his face upwards, forcing
him to look at her. “I’m talking about my precious necklace. It’s gone! I’ve looked everywhere. Frank sure didn’t take it. No one’s been in the house. That was my mother’s necklace. One of the few things I have that belonged to her. Where is it?” Her voice rose. Her eyes filled with tears. Her grip on Tarkin’s chin tightened. “Where is it? Tell me!”

“Ow!” he said, trying to pull away. “You’re hurting me. Could be a magpie took it? I dunno.”

Martha let him go, pulled back a chair and sank into it. She buried her head in her hands, sighed again then looked up at her son, who was standing in the middle of the floor, rubbing his chin. In a steady voice, as though trying hard to control herself, she said, “No Tarkin. I don’t think a magpie took it. I need you to tell me the truth. No frills. No fancy made-up stories. No once-upon-a-time stuff. The truth. That’s all I want. The plain truth.”

Tarkin looked at her. He twisted his earring. He coughed. He coiled his long hair around his finger. Then he said quietly, “I wanted to give it to my mermaid.”

On the tiny island of Sule Skerrie, under the Arctic rim, the selkies gathered. The raw lonely beauty of their ancestral home lay long miles from human habitation, and many grey seals had already come to seek peace on its isolated rocks.

Exhausted, the selkies, after their long swim from the bay, hauled up and found resting places next to these grey seals. They nodded to each other. They gave a honk or a weary howl in greeting. But selkies are not seals – not completely. With their seal coat wrapped
about them they look like seals. Wearing their human skin they look like humans. The grey seals grunted then dragged their tired bodies over the rock to make room for the visitors, but they had no tongue for selkie-speech. They closed their eyes and slept.

But for the selkies sleep didn’t come so easily. While they lay cold on the rocks of Sule Skerrie, they longed for the bay of their home. They yearned to be close to humans, to join in their games, play on the shore and call to them from quiet caves. They yearned to hear Magnus Fin serenade them with his penny whistle, to see Ragnor walk along the shore, to hear Aquella sing.

This rock in the northern Atlantic was one of the loneliest places on the planet. To the north lay the ice and snow of the Arctic. About them, wind howled. Grey harsh waves broke over the rocks. After their long journey the selkies huddled together, exhausted and confused. It was a cold and lonely place, but it was safe.

Ronan was more dejected than anyone.
But our wedding, the party on the beach… What about that?
He asked Miranda, pressing close to Lorelie to keep her warm.

Miranda had no answer. She lay by his other side, nestling close for warmth. The Arctic gale moaned about the lonely island. Ronan lifted his head and howled into the moaning wind. Waves crashed against the rock and hurled spray high into the air. It was the month of June but cold like mid-winter.

The moon shone so bright through his window, Magnus Fin couldn’t sleep that night. Not a wink. It seemed like hours he lay awake, going over and over in his mind the events of the past few days: the stranger in the black jacket; Tarkin and his imaginary mermaid, but maybe she wasn’t imaginary; then of course the thing in the sand that was now in the cave – Neptune’s stolen treasure. And what would he find in the sunken ship? Fin felt a thrill at the thought of diving to the sunken ship.

The clock downstairs struck four in the morning. Fin counted the chimes. Every chime urged him to rise. The moon that Miranda had called the great lantern in the sky had reached its fullness. Fin remembered too with a shiver that Neptune, without the Seudan, would not last another moon.

Magnus Fin couldn’t lie in bed any longer. He got up and opened his bedroom window, letting in the hum of the sea. The image of the rusty box hidden under the clump of seaweed wouldn’t leave him. Neptune needed it back. Maybe the snooping teenager would go back for it? Or maybe he’d report it? There was no telling what the strange boy would do. Fin leant out of the window and breathed in the cold salty air. The sea called him. The great lantern in the sky called him. At four o’clock that morning, finding the key and
returning the treasure to Neptune seemed like the most important thing in the world.

Magnus Fin, as a child of both worlds, had choices. He could travel in the water as a seal. He could travel as a boy. He grasped his moon-stone.
Boy
, it seemed to say. Fin looked at his hands. His long fingers would help him find a small key. He looked at his comfortable boat-bed. Who in their right mind would swap a warm bed for the cold sea? Going into the sea at four in the morning was a mad idea. It was crazy. But when you were half-selkie, mad and crazy were sometimes right.

Fin tiptoed to his wardrobe and quietly opened it. In the dark he fumbled for the rubbery feel of his wetsuit. He pulled it out and struggled into it. It felt tight under the arms. Fin tugged at the sleeves. He grinned to himself and looked down at his lanky legs; this was a fine time to learn he had grown!

At that moment he heard a creak on the stair. He froze. Was somebody up? If his mother discovered him she’d never let him go out at this time. Fin held his breath while his door handle turned and slowly the door opened. Aquella stood silhouetted in the moonlight. She wore her baggy white pyjamas and clutched a ragged old teddy.

“Be careful,” she whispered. “I know you have to go. I know the selkies need you; you’re the only one who can return the treasure. But be careful – please.” Aquella took a step forward. “I can’t believe you’re going back to the ruins of that awful monster’s palace. I’d go if I could.”

Fin didn’t want to return there either, but he did want to help King Neptune. He pulled his trainers out from under his bed and slipped his feet into them, then smiled at his
cousin. He wanted her to at least feel he was confident, even if he wasn’t. He’d been on missions under the sea before and he’d always come back, hadn’t he?

“You not going to wish me luck then?” he whispered, standing up now and rubbing his moon-stone.

Good luck,
she said in selkie-speech.
The bones of the great white shark may be near the shattered throne. And amongst the bones you’ll find the key. The key is small – hardly the size of your little finger. I’m so proud of you, Magnus Fin, and I’ll sing for you. It’s all I can do.

Thanks
. With his green eye he winked at her. Then Magnus Fin crept out of his room and down the stairs. Without a sound he opened the front door then slipped out into the darkness.

Aquella meanwhile padded back to her tiny attic room. But she didn’t go back to bed. She pulled on her puffy jacket over her pyjamas. She put on warm socks then wellington boots, a hat and wrapped a scarf around her neck. Then she too crept downstairs and slipped out into the night.

In the silvery moonlight Aquella followed the soft imprints of her cousin’s steps. Hurrying along the beach path she rounded the coast. Immediately she spotted the dark shape of Magnus Fin silhouetted on the edge of the rocks. She saw him bend his knees and stretch back his arms. She felt her heart flutter. She saw him leap from the rock. Then she heard a splash. He was gone.

For a while Aquella gazed after him. “Neptune guide you and protect you,” she murmured into the shadowy darkness. She found herself a soft patch of sand at the edge of the beach and sat down, hugging her knees for warmth. From here, safe from salt water, she could
survey the moonlit sea. From the hill behind her the
tu-woo
of a night owl kept her company. Soon the first glimmer of daylight would appear over the eastern horizon. And soon – all being well – Magnus Fin would return, shaking seawater from his hair, grinning, and clutching in his hand the key to Neptune’s treasure chest!

As she waited she let her fingers stroke the cool sand. She lifted the sand then let it run out slowly between her fingers. As the sand fell she sang. It was a Gaelic song about a fisherman who was lost at sea. Had anyone heard her sing they’d believe that she knew what that felt like – to be lost at sea.

When her song was done she half opened her eyes and peered over her shoulder towards the cave. There were surely a few bats, perhaps a rat, or even a deer snuggled up next to the rusty old kist that lay in that cave. Little did these creatures know the great power of the treasure they slept next to.

The night was still. Aquella shivered and looked anxiously along the beach path. If the snooping teenager came back she didn’t know what she would do. Magnus Fin was not here to spin a fishing line around his ankles. But somehow she didn’t think he would come back – not at four o’clock in the morning. Normal folk didn’t go to the beach at four o’clock in the morning.

Aquella turned back to face the sea. Through her long black eyelashes she could see the first chink of dawn. She sang again. What else could she do? This was her way of helping Magnus Fin. This was her way of guarding the Seudan. She sang with all her selkie heart, because there were few places under the ocean worse than the false king’s ruined palace.