Magnus Fin and the Selkie Secret (15 page)

Aquella balanced the crate on her back while Magnus Fin swam alongside, holding on to the crate to keep it steady. They had tried a few different transportation methods, but that way seemed the best. Though the treasure chest was heavy it lost half of its weight under the water, and though it pressed down on Aquella’s back it was a pain she could bear.

Magnus Fin had been to Neptune’s cavern once before. Miranda had taken him there. Aquella had never been, and the thought of meeting the great king of the sea filled her with awe. Neptune’s storm of earlier had died down and the sea was back to its slack and listless mood. With every stroke Fin imagined clean seas, good tides, healthy fish.

Over wide ribbed sandy plains they swam, following their marine instincts. Over dark seaweed forests they glided. Sometimes they paused to ease the pressure. And sometimes they slowed down to gaze at white jellyfish drifting and dropping through the water like slow-falling silk parachutes.

When they swam through tidal swells, twice the
tea-chest
slipped off Aquella’s back and it took every ounce of Fin’s strength to drag it back. Once, in the hazy distance, they saw a shark tear a small fish into tiny pieces with its razor-sharp teeth. Not wanting to be its
next meal they took a long route round. Large dogfish, still as stone, hung in the deep water and with their round staring eyes watched the strange spectacle go by. They had seen many weird and wonderful things. The ocean was teeming with them. But a black seal with a crate on its back being helped by a boy was something they’d never seen.

Magnus Fin and Aquella had been swimming for a while, each hoping the other knew where they were going, when they found themselves in the midst of what looked like a coral reef. Fin swept his torch-lights through the water. After the sluggish sights they had become used to it was startling to see bright colour and beauty. It was mesmerising – like a botanical garden at the bottom of the sea. Magnificent plants decorated the ocean floor. Between the bright blossoms of these sea flowers, pink crabs and blue lobsters scuttled to and fro.

We might be close,
Aquella said. Fin could hear the exhaustion in her voice. He dived and wriggled himself under the crate, trying to share the load, but no sooner had he done this than the crate slipped to the side.

It’s alright Fin,
Aquella said,
it won’t be long now. Such beautiful gardens have to be King Neptune’s.

Fin brightened his eye-beams, and in the sweep of white saw the silvery figure of Miranda weave in and out between long arms of swaying sea grass. She drew close and nodded in greeting.

I have told Neptune you are on your way,
she said, twisting round to join them. She slipped under the crate and helped Aquella, sharing half the load. Fin, still grasping the treasure chest above, felt the speed increase. As though they were the three wise men from
the east bearing gifts, they advanced, and even the curious dolphins veered off course to give them room.

We are close,
said Miranda, splaying her flippers and gazing down.
Look!

They looked. They gasped. Their eyes swept in wonder along a curving avenue of majestic brightly coloured plants. As they swam along this path, luminescent jellyfish played their tendrils on giant shells and their muffled music ushered the treasure bearers along.

The avenue led to a mighty rock archway, decorated with a million white clam shells. A solitary and beautiful mermaid sat by the archway, playing on a small clarsach. She had long black hair that reached to her feet. As the two seals and the boy approached she sang softly, and plucked the watery strings of the clarsach.

Fàilte,
she sang,
you have returned the Seudan to our beloved Mer King. Fàilte. Fàilte. Ceud mile fàilte.

Awed to silence the travellers glided through this archway to finally enter the cavern of the great King Neptune deep under the sea.

A mighty conch shell trumpeted. The deep call alerted every creature that swam, crawled and coiled in the cavern. In moments, fish, crabs, lobsters, jellyfish, dolphins, porpoises and eels formed a file of welcome. With Magnus Fin holding the crate in place, paddling his webbed toes gently to propel him forward, and with Aquella and Miranda below, balancing the crate on their strong seal backs, Neptune’s stolen treasure made its way to the throne of its rightful owner. As the procession glided by, the onlookers bowed, or nodded,
or clicked their pincers together. Each – in the manner of his kind – bade them welcome.

I told them. I said we could rely on Magnus Fin. And see – I was right.

Fin paused for a moment to look in the direction of the voice he had come to know. The tiny pink crab paddled through the water and landed on Magnus Fin’s shoulder.
As you have looked after us, we’ll look after you. May good winds, good tides and dear King Neptune bless you and yours all your days!

And with that the crab paddled off and landed on a swinging seaweed frond that trailed from the great cavern door. As though the little crab commanded it, the cavern door, with a thunderous boom, swung open. Emerald-green water gushed and frothed, ushering the travellers in.

From the pounding froth Magnus Fin saw the mighty form of King Neptune rise from a tangle of seaweed and ocean plants. A face full of kindness, at once like the green sea, then like a breaking wave, emerged from the tangles. Neptune’s beard seemed like a forest of kelp. His eyes like deep oceans. But Fin, who could only stare into the immense emerald eyes, saw sadness there too.

The mighty Mer King seemed to fumble for a moment. He plunged his great green hand into a tangle of fronds and brought up his three-pronged fork, his Triton.

So much has been taken from me. So much has been stolen. So much the sea has suffered. There has been so much taking – taking – so much greed.

The Triton fell limp in the Mer King’s hand, like a wand that could weave no more magic. Neptune rose up
from his mighty shell throne and shook his forest of hair. The ocean heaved with him. A million bubbles frothed green and white. In the watery turmoil Miranda slipped out from under the crate and swam up to the king.

Beloved King, Manannán,
she said urgently,
Magnus Fin here – and Aquella – have brought back the Seudan. There has, dear King, been much taking as you say, but there has been much giving. Look, look what they bring to you.

Aquella slowly lowered the heavy crate and slipped out from under it, as Neptune’s helpers took it from her back and carefully removed the kist. Exhausted she hung motionless in the water. Fin glanced down and saw the mark from the crate on her back. Neptune too saw it. He stretched out a hand and laid it gently on Aquella’s back.

When Neptune spoke, waves boomed and sang.
You have your seal skin returned to you, in good condition I see. I hoped my mending spell had reached the false king’s ruined palace before my powers failed me. From this distance, I couldn’t be sure.

Oh, thank you, King Neptune. It was Magnus Fin who found it,
she said, the exhaustion gone from her voice. Aquella spun in the water, showing off her beautiful seal skin.
And it is perfect
. She sounded radiant again, and full of life.
Magnus Fin found the stolen treasure and the key. He has brought the Seudan back to you.

Then Magnus Fin found his voice. His words were few but they rang like pounding waves.
It was a group effort
, he said.

The best kind of effort,
said Neptune.
And now…
he turned his deep gaze upon the metal chest
…that which was stolen from me, you say, has finally been returned.

A hush rippled through the cavern as King Neptune reached his mighty hands towards the kist, which now lay on a stone stand. Slowly, with trembling fingers, he lifted back the lid and a brilliant rainbow light flooded the cavern. In that moment the sadness was swept from his eyes. The jewelled light that shone from the box lit up the swirling water and stretched far. It lit up the avenue of flowers. It lit up sunken ships. It illuminated vast tracts of water. It lit up the bay. The light from the Seudan lit up the whole sea.

All shall be well,
said King Neptune, the radiant light shining in his eyes, his face, his whole being. Then he looked at Magnus Fin, this special child who had been sent from the land to help the creatures of the sea.
Choose one,
said Neptune, extending his magnificent green hand towards the treasure chest.
You too carry the sea’s wisdom
.

Magnus Fin chose a small emerald stone and slipped it into the pocket of his wetsuit.

Use it wisely and it will bring humans good fortune,
said Neptune,
as you from the human world have brought good fortune to us.

Then King Neptune plunged his hand into the sand below his throne and brought up a small golden coin.
And this,
said the great sea king, laughing kindly and extending the glinting coin,
i
n the currency of the land, will buy you a new wetsuit and perhaps a little more.
And his laugh rang out. It cleaned the seas. It refreshed the tides. It healed the fish.

All the way back to the bay, Magnus Fin, swimming between Aquella and Miranda, heard the echo of
that laughter. They all heard it. It spurred them on. It carried them to the rock door. Miranda swam back to the selkies in the bay. Aquella slithered onto the beach. And Magnus Fin grasped the shell handle, and pulled. He raised his head above the surface of the water and breathed air in the way of humans. Then he hoisted himself up onto the ledge of the high black rock.

For a while Magnus Fin stood, gazing out to sea. The blue water shimmered and the sun glinted upon the surface, like a million golden coins.

He stretched out his arms and breathed deeply. The sea was his. The land was his. As he shook out his hair and lifted his arms to the sky he felt like the richest person on earth.

“Fin!” Aquella shouted from the mouth of the cave. “Let’s see if they left us any sausages!”

“Good idea!” he called to her. “I’m starving!” And he jumped down from the high rock. As he scrambled over the skerries and leapt over rock pools he wondered how many sausages he could buy with a golden coin.

Hundreds? He leapt over a high rock.

Thousands? He scuffed up a tangle of seaweed and kicked his heels in the air.

Millions? He turned a cartwheel in the sand.

Yes! Magnus Fin guessed that with the sea king’s golden coin he could buy whatever he wanted!

Mrs Anderson was chuffed that Billy Mole, whom she’d come to see as a kind of grandson, said he was staying on for a few more days, if that was OK with her? Never had she seen such a change in a person. He was polite. He ate porridge. He helped with the washing-up. And when he stood awkwardly in the living room one evening with a sheet of paper and a pen in his hand, she sat down and helped him write his last piece for
Inside Lives
magazine. Mrs Anderson’s spelling was a good deal better than Billy Mole’s.

There was a lot of letter writing going on in the far north of Scotland. While Lorelie was busy making solstice party invitations for the selkies, Aquella made invitations for the land folk. She gathered lots of the loveliest shells from shell beach at John O’Groats – whelks, Venus and clam shells – then set about writing the invitations in her tiniest handwriting on bits of paper no bigger than her thumb.

When each invitation was written she rolled up the paper and pressed each one into a shell. There was one for Barbara and Ragnor, one for Tarkin, one for Billy Mole, one for Mr Sargent and his wife, one for Granny May. Of course there was one for Magnus Fin. And because the shell invitations looked so beautiful, Aquella gave one to herself. She stood it on her windowsill, counted down the days to the party, and sewed white cowrie shells on to her green dress.

Under the sea, Lorelie plucked strands of green, red and pink seaweed and plaited them into necklaces, long enough to circle the neck of a seal. On each necklace she wove in two shells. This, in the selkie way, meant a wedding would be celebrated. It said:
Please come and join the party.
There were shell necklaces for Miranda, Shuna, Coll and Sylva, Catriona and Louise, Ruiraigh and Shannon, Ondine and Don, Eirinn and Rob, Rondo
and Maura, Erla and Lachlan.

And when the sun made its journey on the longest day, all would be there, casting off their seal coats and taking on their human forms. On the beach past the cave they’d meet with the land folk to dance, feast and sing.

Lorelie counted down the tides until her wedding day.

Seven… six… five… four… three… two…

One!

It was midsummer’s day. The sun rose at three o’clock that Sunday morning. Granny May arrived at the cottage down by the shore at nine and spent the whole day helping her daughter with the baking. Barbara made the pizzas, the sausage rolls and the sandwiches. Granny May took care of the sweet things – the chocolate cakes, cupcakes, fairy cakes, millionaire’s shortbread and strawberry tarts. Magnus Fin spread the chocolate on the cakes, placed the strawberries on the tarts and decorated the cupcakes with blue and green wavy icing. Aquella spent most of the day singing, washing dishes and folding napkins. Ragnor was down at the beach gathering driftwood and setting it ready for a bonfire.

In the early evening a sea mist rolled in, which Granny May said was a big shame but the selkie members of the family just shrugged their shoulders, as if they knew something she didn’t.

By eight o’clock that evening Magnus Fin, in his new blue trousers and red T-shirt, led the way along the beach path, carrying all the sausage rolls. Aquella followed, carrying the strawberry tarts. She wore her
beautiful green bridesmaid dress that she had decorated for the occasion with a hundred white cowrie shells. In her long black hair she had threaded tartan ribbons. As she ambled along she hummed a tune.

Granny May wore her cowboy hat, jeans and her fringed suede jacket and carried her cakes. She hoped there would be some country and western music.

Barbara, who walked to the beach beside her, with her guitar slung over her back, said it could possibly be arranged. She carried a picnic basket filled with everything she could think of – paper plates, cups, juice, marshmallows and macaroni pies!

Ragnor was down at the beach already, setting out stone seats, hanging garlands of sea grass around the arched entrance to the cave, and making sure the beach was free from litter.

Still the sea mist clung to the coast like a silver curtain.

While the food was being set out on stone tables, Ragnor lit the fire and the dry wood crackled. The blue smoke spiralled upwards and was lost in the mist. Magnus Fin took ten of the best sausage rolls, ran over the skerries and threw them into the sea. The selkie party wouldn’t be the only party that night. He watched as the flaky pastry sunk downwards. Was it his imagination, or did he see a flash of silver hooks jostle under the water?
Happy solstice,
he called out, and was about to turn and head back to the beach, when he heard the unmistakable yelp of a seal. Black and silver heads rose from the mist-covered sea. Fin whipped out his penny whistle from his back pocket and played his tune of welcome.

The seals slithered onto the rocks. Fin played on as more and more seals, honking and calling, hauled up onto the land. Barbara had joined the tune with her guitar while Ragnor blew softly through a conch shell. Howling joyously the seals rocked and bounced over the skerries and up the beach. Still the mist swirled. It sat like a blanket over the seals, shielding them as they burst from their seal skins and took on human form. It was only when they ran – now as boys, girls, men and women, dressed in glistening outfits of red, gold and green – that the sea mist lifted and the midsummer sun burst through.

With the lifting of the mist curtain the other guests arrived. Some came laughing and cheering. Some came shyly and softly. All were dressed in their best and all carried gifts: food, drink, wood for the fire, drums to bang or rattles to shake.

There never was such a party. Tarkin joined Barbara on guitar and everyone danced. They danced in circles, they danced in pairs, they danced in the shallow water, they danced on the sand. Even Billy Mole danced. In between dances he told Magnus Fin and Tarkin how Mrs Anderson had helped him find a job on a tall ship, helping disabled people sail round Britain. Then the music started up again and Billy Mole danced with Shuna, then with Erla, then with Granny May. “This,” he said, to everyone he met, “is the best party ever.”

When the conch shell announced the wedding celebration everyone put down their cakes, their drums, their sausage rolls and ran to the water’s edge. Ragnor had been softly blowing the conch shell. Now he
stepped out from the cave, looking, thought Barbara, as handsome as the day she had met him, at this very shore, thirteen years before.

And if Ragnor was handsome, leading the selkie bride and groom in a slow procession along the shore, Lorelie and Ronan were even more so. It was Granny May who broke the awe-struck silence of the watching crowd. “Isn’t she a bonny bride?” she said and everyone nodded. She was.

Lorelie wore a long dress that appeared woven, not from human threads but from threads of Neptune’s jewels. It shone red, purple, white and gold. An emerald crown sat on her head and her long black hair, threaded with tiny cowrie shells, cascaded down her back. Ronan wore a suit of red, purple, white and gold. Again it was Granny May who just couldn’t keep quiet. “Really gorgeous outfits,” she said with an admiring sigh. “You don’t get clothes like that in our shops, do you?”

By this time Ragnor had led the bride and groom close to where the excited guests were gathered. As a hush of expectation fell, Miranda stepped out from the group of guests, with Aquella by her side. “We’re going to get the service now,” Granny May nodded, telling everyone what was going on.

“Is this a normal Scottish wedding?” Billy whispered.

Magnus Fin just winked, smiled and said, “Yeah, it’s a Scottish wedding, but it’s not normal!”

“Ace!” Billy whispered, and he might have said more but Miranda at that moment invited the bride and groom to stand, with one foot each in the water and one foot on the land. Then Aquella sang the beautiful
Gaelic
Dan Nan Ron
– the song of the seals, that she had been practising for weeks. As she sang Lorelie and Ronan exchanged wedding necklaces. And when the song ended Ronan and Lorelie, gazing at each other, chanted the selkie wedding charm:

As they spoke the last words of the blessing a glistening emerald wave curled around their ankles. The selkie couple looked down in wonder. The playful wave gently withdrew, leaving the soft webs between their feet shining. King Neptune had come to the wedding, and blessed them.

Then Ragnor blew the conch shell once more, the sign for Miranda to cast an offering of sand into the sea. Then, addressing Lorelie and Ronan, Miranda sang the selkie wedding blessing:

Then Aquella threw the confetti and as it fell about them everyone cheered, clapped and whistled. Coll played a wedding reel on the chanter, and the happy 
couple hugged then danced on the sand.

Selkies love parties and especially weddings. Later, when feasting resumed and the guests were gathered around the great bonfire, Ronan made a speech, saying if it weren’t for Magnus Fin he’d still be stuck in a fridge at the bottom of the sea. Then Lorelie made a speech, saying she would love Ronan till all the seas gang dry. Ragnor said a few words about how he hoped there would always be peace and love between selkies and humans. During his speech Magnus Fin, Aquella and Tarkin all turned and looked at Billy Mole, who winked at them, put his thumb in the air and smiled.

Later Mr Sargent sat on a stone with Billy Mole. “I never said fish boy,” he explained. “And I never used the word alien; I just want to set the record straight. I was simply curious. The truth is that Magnus Fin has taught me more than I’ve taught him; I’m sure of it. Aquella too, and Tarkin. We’re all different – in our own way – don’t you agree?”

Billy Mole nodded his head. The very idea of calling anyone fish boy seemed like a dim, distant and bad memory. Then Barbara whisked him off to dance, and while they were dancing she told him there
would
be a Spain after all, there would be paella and Flamenco, there would be a holiday, because Magnus Fin had brought home a golden coin. Then she laughed, spun out her long red hair, twirled round then gasped. “What’s that?” she cried, staring out to sea.

But Tarkin had already seen the yacht in the distance. He’d been toasting a marshmallow on a stick when he spied something out at sea, moving through
the flames. His oozing marshmallow drooped into the fire. Tarkin staggered to his feet and ran down the beach. He leapt onto the rocks and scrambled over the skerries. The yacht, its white sail shaking, was heading into the bay, clanging its bell. Flapping at its prow Tarkin saw the unmistakable red, white and blue of the Stars and Stripes, and leaning over the side of the yacht and waving wildly was a man. And not just any man.

“Dad!” Tarkin yelled. “Dad!” and he jumped into the sea.

Magnus Fin heard the splash. In moments he was on his feet. He leapt over the rocks. In disbelief he stared at the blond head of Tarkin bobbing up and down in the water. “Dad!” Tarkin yelled again.

Magnus Fin bent his knees. He was ready to plunge in after him, when he saw Tarkin’s arms arch and scoop through the water. Tarkin was swimming!

Tarkin swam all the way to the yacht, which by now had dropped its anchor. A tall, sun-tanned man with long hair and a red scarf tied round his head urged him on. “Son,” the sailor called, his voice choked with emotion, “my son!” and he threw a rope ladder over the side.

Fin watched with a lump in his throat as Tarkin mounted the rope ladder, swung his legs over the rail and fell into his father’s arms. Fin wasn’t the only one watching. The whole party had run to the tideline and there they stood, waving and cheering.

Much later that evening, Carl, Tarkin’s father, sat by the fire telling everyone the story of his great Atlantic crossing: “You may think I’m a mighty strange one,
believing in magic,” he said, looking around him at the attentive faces glowing in the firelight. “But I swear a mermaid guided me. She pulled me through storms. She set me on course. She guided me round rocks. And when it got lonely out there on the open sea, she sang to me.”

A tear glistened in Carl’s eye. He hugged his son, who was beaming uncontrollably, and nodded at the company. “It’s true,” he went on, “every bit of it.” Everyone around the bonfire smiled at the man who had crossed the Atlantic Ocean. They patted him on the arm. They shook his hand. But no one thought he was mighty strange.

Encouraged, Carl carried on, “I swear she brought me right here, right to my boy. I couldn’t have done it on my own.” Carl put his arm around Tarkin’s shoulder.

Later, as the sun went down, Tarkin, leaving his father talking with Ragnor and Barbara, wandered over to sit beside Magnus Fin. The two of them polished off the last of the chocolate cake.

When the cake was done they wandered onto the rocks. The North Star came out. Tarkin coughed, winked and, like a magician, stretched out his hand. Nestled in the palm of his hand something glinted.