Magnus Fin and the Selkie Secret (11 page)

Magnus Fin, jumping into the dark sea, felt the rush of cool water. He tilted his body forward and groped for the doorway. His hand closed over the familiar curved shape of the shell handle. He pulled. The emerald-green light flashed from the crack in the rock door. The rock door opened wider, water gushed with the force of it, then he was through – into the magical world of the selkies.

Magnus Fin twisted round to gaze at the swaying world he had entered. Bars of light, streaming down from the moonlight above, bent in the water. Glancing up, silver patterns shimmered and shifted on the surface. Beneath him long swathes of seaweed, like weary dancers, drifted from side to side. Magnus Fin stretched out his arms and swam. A shoal of curious fish glided towards him then darted off in all directions.

Fin blinked, letting a thin beam of light seep from his eyes; his underwater vision shone like torchlight through the darkness. Balls of red seaweed rolled over the plankton beneath him. He dived, picked up a seaweed ball, threw it and watched its slow-motion curve.

Fin felt the familiar surge of sea-excitement. Even if the sea was suffering, there was still much to wonder at. But he shook himself. If he was going to find the sunken ship he couldn’t spend ages hurling balls of seaweed.
So he swam on to where the underwater world turned dark green. Slimy seaweed brushed his face and feet. Magnus Fin shuddered, grasped his moon-stone, and paddled off fast.

The sunken ship, he remembered, lay on the ocean floor not far from the northern kelp forest. Only hours earlier, Fin, as a seal, had made the speedy journey there. A thrill of anticipation shot through him. There was nothing Magnus Fin liked better than a sunken ship to explore. He pushed his arms forwards and with fast, wide strokes made good headway.

The wetsuit kept him warm, even if it was a bit small. Fin swam past floating shoals of fish that appeared to be asleep. There were some queer looking creatures in the sea. Fin couldn’t help but stare. One odd fish, resembling a toothless old woman with a gaping mouth and sunken cheeks, floated in the water, its bulging eyes shifting from side to side. Underwater vision lent everything a fuzzy haze. Shapes, large and small, appeared out of the dim water then mysteriously disappeared. Sea creatures emerged from rocky crevices, vanished between fronds, or burrowed into the sand.

On and on he swam, his arms slicing through the water, his feet kicking back at a great rate. A prowling greyish bulk appeared from the dim watery world. It roamed the sea ahead before vanishing into the distance, leaving Fin haunted by the unpleasant thought of great white sharks. He grabbed hold of his moon-stone and felt courage pour into him. Trying not to think about starving great whites Magnus Fin ventured on.

But venturing on wasn’t so easy. Strong currents dragged him back then pushed him forward. Under
him Fin saw piles of smashed shells and carcasses of shattered lobsters. In the unblinking round eyes of passing fish Magnus Fin saw startled fear. The sea was living in confusion. Fin swam faster, thrusting back his webbed feet with urgent kicks. Below him the ocean floor fell downwards like a gaping canyon. Into this he dived, to where the sea lived in perpetual night.

Shining his eye-lights full strength Magnus Fin followed the route Miranda had taken him. Yellow sea grasses, as though knowing his quest, shivered and waved as he passed. Through it all the muffled drone of the sea moaned and boomed. Fin swam over the ribbed sandy plains where lobster creels sat, fastened to long swaying ropes; where spars of rusting iron lay, encrusted with barnacles; where red sea anemones stretched up their thousand spiky fingers and dead men’s fingers pointed the way.

Magnus Fin pushed on against the dragging weight of the sluggish sea. His arms were aching, his legs felt like lead. But he was close to the sunken ship, he was sure of it. Forward, his marine instinct guided him. With a sense of foreboding he ventured on into the eerie depths.

Suddenly from out of the watery dimness a massive shape loomed towards him. Fin was ready to turn and swim away when it fractured into a million tiny fish. These fish parted, like silver curtains opening, revealing a slumped and shadowy bulk.

His heart thudded against his ribs. Could this be the sunken ship?

Slowly now he swam towards it. As he drew nearer, crabs scuttled sideways and fish darted into
the murk. With slow wide strokes Magnus Fin glided above the dark shape and looked down. It was a ship, he was sure about that – or had been, once upon a time. A water snake uncoiled from round a rusting iron pole and slunk off. Where the snake had been a flag uncurled. Fin’s eyes lit on the ragged flag of the skull and crossbones. His pulse raced. He’d come to a sunken pirate ship! He didn’t know whether to be terrified or delighted. What, he wondered, treading water and glancing nervously from side to side, was he supposed to do now?

He studied the rotting hull below him. He gaped at the barnacle-encrusted iron bars, the split planks and rotting masts. He could hardly believe it; he was hovering above a pirate ship that must have lain in this watery cemetery for two or three hundred years.

The wreck was half hidden by barnacles, slimy moss and seaweed. Fin grasped a long tuber. Using the stalk as a rope he lowered himself, hand under hand, downwards. Excitement made his fingers tremble. The broken ship was so embedded in sand it didn’t move like everything else in the sea. It had made its last voyage a long time ago. What, Fin wondered, had happened to the pirates? The ones who were on board when this very ship went down. Fin let go of his tuber and swam cautiously around the eerie wreck, sweeping his
eye-lights
over the abandoned vessel.

Stretching out his hand Fin touched the ragged flag, still tied to the broken end of a rusty pole. It felt slimy. He winced. The sunken ship creaked. In such eerie gloom anyone would think (Magnus Fin tried not to think) that such a place would be haunted.

Sea ghosts!
the nightmarish thought wormed into his brain.
Sea ghosts!
it screeched. Fin kicked his foot against a spar of wood, causing the wreck to creak mournfully once more. Fin’s heart raced. He didn’t believe in ghosts, at least not the scary kind. Tarkin did, but Tarkin believed in everything. The thought wouldn’t go away. It grew bigger. Forget hungry great white sharks with supersonic electro receptors! Now he was haunted by pirate sea ghosts!

Fin blinked quickly to stop the light streaming from his eyes. If there were pirate sea ghosts slumbering in this ship he didn’t want to disturb them. But wasn’t he supposed to find help here? Plunged into murky darkness Fin couldn’t see the pirate ship now. Only the white from the skull and crossbones glinted. He reached out his hands and groped what felt like the rigging. At the same time something nuzzled him on the back of his neck.

If it was possible to scream at the bottom of the sea, he would have screamed then. It would have been a scream to waken dead sailors. But it wasn’t possible to scream, so he didn’t. He swung round instead, ready to punch and kick.

Magnus Fin thrashed his arms through the water. He kicked out. Something had touched him. Was it a shark? The touch had been eerily cold, more of an impression than a real touch. Fin’s heart batted wildly. Could it be… a sea ghost? He tried to swim away, but his arms felt weak. He didn’t know where to go. His stomach churned. The horrible thought clawed at him. Had a sea ghost, in this sunken ship, touched him on the neck? He wriggled backwards. In the murky water
all he could see was a dark shadow. And this mysterious shadow was moving towards him.

Nightmare – never ends. You come to torture me? Again?

Fin’s hand hit out, but nothing was there. Nothing he could touch. The shadow swirled in the water. It made his skin bristle with fear. The water trembled. Dry jabbing thoughts knocked on his skull.

Nightmare. Endless – nightmare – on and on and so I can never forget. Nev-er!

The anguished voice bore into him. Fin spun round in the water but nothing was there. Fin felt his blood run cold.

The eternal suffering. Release me!

Fin panicked. Selkies would never speak like that. What was it?

The ghost voice went on.
Bad. All bad and to never forget it. Never. Nightmare without end. So many smashed crabs, slaughtered shrimps, tortured fish, imprisoned selkies
… And what did we do? We laughed. Laughed and laughed. Now what? You come – come to laugh? At this agony? Death doesn’t want me. Though I yearn for it.

Magnus Fin’s eyes, used to the murky dark now, detected a faint shape moving in the water. The agonised words were surely coming from this shadow, which rose up from the bowels of the sunken ship like a snake to the charmer’s flute. Gaping at the ghostly slinking shadow Fin pushed frantically back, but found himself wedged against a spar of the ship. Dumbfounded he stared as the shape slunk up and up, displaying its enormous height. Fin swallowed hard. He’d read enough books about the sea to recognise that this shadow snaking through the water was none other than a monstrous conger eel.

Or – his stomach churned, his heart missed a beat – the ghost of a conger eel.

Fin knew eels well. He’d spent ages reading about them – these snake-like monsters that can grow to three metres. Pictures of strong jaws and sharp teeth flashed through his mind. Congers will eat anything, his book said – especially at night! Fin grasped his moon-stone and realised with relief that this conger eel had no teeth to eat with, no powerful jaw. This was a ghost!

Spurred on by a sense of urgency Magnus Fin forced himself to speak to the ghost:
Miranda, my grandmother, said you would help me. I am looking for the key to the Seudan.

The conger eel seemed to vanish then. The water ruffled. The sunken ship creaked. Then the long shape took form again, the way a shadow grows when the sun comes out.

Me? Help? I kill. I destroy. I lie. I cheat. Now I suffer the endless night. I don’t help.

Treading water and breathing deeply Fin tried to find the eyes of the conger. But there were no eyes, only a writhing shadow. Maybe Miranda had got it wrong? Maybe she too, like Neptune, was confused? Or was there some other creature in this sunken ship that might help him? Frantically Fin scanned his torchlights across the wreck. But nothing stirred – only the monstrous shadow of this tortured creature. Miranda must have meant him.

I am asking for your help,
Fin said.
And there is no time to waste.

Time? I am condemned to eternity with no sleep. Only memories. Smashed skulls, blood and empty laughter. Over and over. Blood and bones and agony.

In a flash it became clear to Magnus Fin. He marvelled at Miranda’s cleverness. Not for nothing was his grandmother queen of the selkies.

So,
Fin said,
you are familiar with the palace of the false king?

At the name of the false king the shape shuddered then vanished. It emerged moments later behind Magnus Fin. Fin twisted round, sensing the cold presence at his back. He kicked his heels and lurched away from it. Frantically Fin grasped the mast and clung to the slimy flag. The eel uttered pained, strange noises. Fin knew his instinct was right. This massive creature had probably been one of the false king’s cruel henchmen. Feeling a surge of courage Magnus Fin took command.

This could be your chance for freedom.

Freedom?
the tortured shadow cried.
Freedom is for the good. Freedom doesn’t come to the murderers – only nightmare with no end.

But if you help me it might. Show me the way to the ruins of the false king’s palace. Guide me to the ruins of the throne room. Help me find the key, then King Neptune might show pity, he might release you.

The massive shadow of the eel slithered downwards. It slunk in and out between spars of broken ship. It wound its shadowy shape around the barnacle-crusted wheel. It slithered under a chair that was still, miraculously, intact. It undulated along the peeling lettering on the boat’s hull.
Beelzebub
, it said.

Seeing the ship’s name Fin recoiled. Wasn’t it enough that he’d come to a pirate ship? To be in a ship that had the name of the devil only made things worse. The ghostly eel hovered above the slumped statue
of a mermaid that lay face down in the sand. She’d once been, Fin guessed, the ship’s figurehead. Now her arm was broken, her long golden hair was green. The ghostly eel slid down to lie motionless beside this broken mascot. Was the conger, Fin wondered, asking her advice?

Please help,
Magnus Fin wished,
please!

Then the dry words came, groaning from the broken hull.
I’ll help. She says I should help. But I warn you: you might get more than you bargained for.
The shadowy form then rose quickly from the sunken ship and glided snake-like through the murky water.

Magnus Fin kicked back his heels, and followed it.

Soon the gloom of the sunken ship was far behind. Magnus Fin cut through the ocean, following in the wake of the conger eel. It sucked him along. It darkened the ocean. Even with his torch-lights on full strength, Fin could see little more of his guide than an eerie slinking shadow.

Judging by the route, this ghost, Fin guessed, knew a short cut to the monster’s palace. It took sudden quick turns and led Fin down twisting rocky corridors and through caves where salty stalactites hung like daggers. Sometimes the shadowy form took shape. Sometimes it vanished. Kicking back water, Fin followed. Aghast, he watched the ghost swim right through the pointed stalactites. Magnus Fin, flesh, blood and fully alive, needed to duck and dive to avoid them.

Plunging on, Fin’s thoughts sped back to that crumbling awful palace at the bottom of the sea. Again he saw blood spurting from the monster’s eye, he heard the terrible shriek of the dying creature, he saw again the ridiculous necklace of tin cans and junk that the creature wore, calling it jewellery – when all the time the greatest of all jewels lay under lock and key in that secret stolen kist.

Engrossed in his memories Magnus Fin didn’t notice the water had grown murky. He didn’t notice the gloom
and floating debris above and around him. He bumped his head up against a fallen pillar.

Here
, grunted the ghostly eel.

Ouch!
cried Magnus Fin.

He shook himself from his memories, and rubbed his head. He hadn’t expected to arrive so quickly. He grasped his moon-stone to still his thumping heart, and looked ahead. Even with the courage of his stone he wanted to turn and flee. Through the murky water he could see the ruins of the monster’s palace. Marble columns lay slumped on their side, covered in barnacles and moss. Remnants of rubbish, of which the monster was so fond, still floated around. Though much had been cleaned by Neptune’s many sea-storms, some remained: a few cans, plastic bottles, crisp packets, rubber gloves, ropes. Fin tightened his grip on the moon-stone. A ghostly silence hung about the ruins and a prickle of fear slithered down his spine.

Ugly. Messy. Bad. So bad. Me so bad.

But Magnus Fin didn’t want to hang around in the foul stinking ruin or listen to the regrets of the ghostly eel. He took command.

Right then – the key – we have to do this fast. Where is it? It’s got to be somewhere in all this rubble. Where in this heap of stones and junk was the throne?

As they travelled Magnus Fin had snatched up a few strands of kelp. He pressed them now to his nose. Fin turned a quick circle. Piles of stones and junk lay heaped all around. Fin kicked aside a tumbled pillar, and immediately felt sick. The ghost of the conger eel had definitely brought him to the right place. Under the
rubble and junk lay picked white bones and skeletons – thousands of them.

The shadowy form of the eel slithered on, over more and more heaps of broken stones until it slinked to a stop. By now they had entered the dark heart of the ruin, which Tarkin would probably call the epicentre! An eerie atmosphere pervaded this place, which was dominated by a tower of rubble. At the foot of the hideous tower, skulls lay embedded in grey sand. Above Fin’s head one plastic bottle spun spookily as though caught up in a never-ending whirlpool.

The ghost of the conger had vanished. Fin twisted around, scanning the morbid place for the remains of the great white shark and for a key. Faced with the ruins of a mighty palace the attempt to find a tiny key felt hopeless. To pull back the rubble and search under every fallen stone would take for ever – and his so-called guide seemed to have gone.

Wish I’d never agreed to do his killing
. The dry groan jabbed into Fin’s brain.
Wish I’d never been born. Here we are – oh how the mighty fall. Like me, the monster king has no rest. Like me he’s still around.

Magnus Fin recoiled, terrified. His foot struck a slumped rock. Instantly he jolted forward and spun round. What did the ghostly eel mean, still around?

Like me he can’t let go. Me, I hold on to the awful memories. Him, he holds on to the vain hope that still, somehow, he could be king of the land. What a fool!

Where?
Fin found courage. He twisted round slowly in the water. He had fought with the monster king before, and he had won. Now, if he understood the ghostly eel, he was going to have to fight with the
monster king again – except this time it would be with his ghost.
Where is he?

Oh, you can’t see him. He’s not even a shadow like me. But he’s here alright, clinging on. To find the key you’ll have to get past him.

Magnus Fin clenched his fists and grasped his moonstone for courage. If he had to, he would! He kicked back his heels, glided forward and began to circle the great tower of rubble. From out of the corner of his eye he saw the shadow of the eel slither off. Fin swam slower now, sensing the presence of the monster ghost. The murky water trembled. A stone dislodged from the great tower and tumbled in slow motion down, down to the terrible depths.

Where are you?
Fin shouted.
Come out and show yourself. It’s all over, sad ghost. It’s time for King Neptune to rule the seas with wisdom once more.

Another stone tumbled, this one rolling in Fin’s direction, as though pushed by an invisible hand. Fin darted aside. Something was there, he was sure.

It’s time to give up. The sea has suffered enough, do you hear me? You have to let go. Your terrible reign is over; you have to understand that.

At that moment the trembling water stilled. Fin, hoping his words had convinced the monster ghost, swam faster now. He was filled with the courage of his moon-stone. There was no time to lose. Would he find the key, glinting and golden, behind this mound of rubble? Magnus Fin pulled back a stone from the heap.

At that very moment the still water thrashed out in a frenzy. Fin was flung back as a solid wall of water crashed over him.