Storm Singing and other Tangled Tasks (10 page)

“She’s trying so hard, she’s forgotten to say thank you,” Lavender muttered in Helen’s ear.

“So if I can do brave NOW, selkie girl, do you think you can do RUTHLESS after lunch?”

“Now, Serena,” whispered the mermaid healer. “Play nicely.”

Serena ignored her. “So RONA, have you told your human friend what the second task is yet? Or shall I tell her?”

Helen finished putting everything away. She glanced at the opaque skin on the glue as it dried. Then she looked up. Rona was white. Yann was frowning. Serena was almost purring with glee.

“Alright,” said Helen, standing up. “Who’s going to tell me?”

Rona opened her mouth, then shut it again.

Serena called out in a cheerful voice, “This afternoon the winner will be the contestant who can SINK the largest number of canoes, and put the highest number of human children in the deep dark northern seas to DROWN. I wonder who will win THAT task …?

“I can’t believe it.” Helen stared at the groundsheet, trying not to cry. “That’s why your nice friendly Auntie Sheila wanted those Scouts here. That’s why no one would tell me about the second task.

“I can’t believe you’re going to do this, Rona. I can’t believe your people do this for every Sea Herald contest. You are going to
drown
children!” Helen looked up. “Rona! That makes you … a killer!”

Rona spoke softly. “I am a killer. I kill fish every day. But this isn’t …”

“You kill fish, but not people. You don’t kill people, do you? You’re my friend. You’re my
best
friend. Have you ever planned to drown me?”

“No, and I’m not …”

“Stop denying it! Are you doing the task this afternoon?”

“Well … yes … but …”

“Well yes but! That means you’re going to try to
kill
those Scouts. I can’t
believe
…”

Helen couldn’t say any more. She didn’t want to look at Rona, at any of her friends. She had to get out.

“Helen! Please listen …” Rona’s beautiful voice caught in her throat.

Helen stumbled out of the tent, and ran through the deserted campsite.

When she reached the gate, she followed the track inland. She had left the tent without anything. No fiddle, no first aid kit. She was running light, and she sprinted away from the sea, the island, the selkies. She ran until she found a clump of skinny trees bent down behind a low hill. She could still smell the salt and hear the seagulls, but she was out of sight of the sea.

She sat on a twisted tree trunk, and put her head in her hands.

How could Rona do this?

How could Helen have known Rona for so long, and not realise Rona was capable of this?

There was so much she didn’t know about her friends. She hadn’t even realised Rona didn’t breathe underwater until this morning. If she didn’t know how selkies’ lungs worked, then she couldn’t understand how their minds worked.

She didn’t know their laws or values either. She didn’t know whether they thought killing people was murder or if it was the same as killing herring.

Then Helen wondered about the fishtail she’d healed this afternoon. In a world where people could have fishtails and seals could become people, perhaps the boundaries were blurred.

What was she doing here? Why wasn’t she at home, in her village? With humans. Who had rules she knew and understood. Who didn’t have strange powers and bizarre competitions with deadly tasks. Who didn’t think of a campsite of teenagers as a convenient way to test their ability to sink boats.

Why were Helen’s best friends all furred or feathered or four-legged? Why was she here in this odd world rather than texting other eleven-year-olds about film stars and hairstyles?

Why had she just accepted this world? Why hadn’t she asked more questions? Though who would have thought to ask: “Do you ever kill people to win contests?”

She should have asked more questions.

But now, she had to save the Scouts.

She tried to remember what Sheila had said. The Scouts were climbing Ben Loyal, then taking a canoe trip before a barbecue tea on a beach. So once they were down the mountain, Helen could intercept them on the road to the campsite, before they took their canoes to the jetty.

“Stop!” she would say. “Don’t go out for your afternoon boat trip because a selkie, a mermaid and a boy covered in tattoos are planning to drown you.”

That might not work. She’d try to say something they’d believe, something which didn’t mention selkies. Because if she betrayed the selkies, the colony would have to leave, and Helen wasn’t sure she wanted that. Not if she could get a promise from them never to attack humans again.

She clambered up to the verge and looked along the track. No sign of minibuses with bright canoes on their roofs.

Canoes. On the minibuses.

Helen gasped. She ran towards the campsite until she had a clear view over the wall. She saw tents and bikes.

But no canoes.

The canoes were on the minibuses. The Scouts didn’t have to come back here to go to sea. They could be
launching from anywhere along the north coast. They could be in the sea already!

How could Helen find them to warn them? Sheila might know where they were planning to go. But Sheila had helped set this task up. Helen couldn’t trust Sheila to tell the truth. She had to find them herself.

Helen thought about the coastline. There was a long sandy beach to the west of the campsite. They could launch canoes from there, and it would be a great place for a barbecue. She should try there first.

She’d have to go by boat. Could she row there in time to warn the Scouts, or would she arrive just in time to pull their bodies from the sea?

She sprinted towards the jetty. Then she heard a noise which usually made her feel safe. She heard hooves on the ground.

She looked over to her left. Yann was galloping to the jetty, followed by Catesby and Lavender. Rona wasn’t with them. Was she still weeping in the tent? Or had she already left on her murderous mission?

Helen ran faster. But she couldn’t outrace a centaur.

When Helen reached the wooden jetty, still slippy from the morning’s rain, Yann was there before her. Standing on the planks. Blocking her way to the boat.

“Let me past, Yann.”

“No, I won’t let you past. Listen to me …”

“There’s no time to listen. I have to save the Scouts.”

“Helen, you don’t understand …” Yann’s voice rose above Lavender’s high-pitched arguments and Catesby’s insistent chattering, as the fairy and the phoenix circled Helen and fought for her attention. But they couldn’t stop her getting in the boat. Only Yann
could stop her. So she concentrated on him.

“I don’t understand why you aren’t trying to save them, Yann! Are all you fabled beasts the same? Killing people for sport?” She was shouting over his protests. “Do you all think of humans as enemies, or prey, or pawns in your magical games? Why should I listen to you? You’ve never trusted humans, so maybe you’ve never trusted me!”

“Helen, that’s not fair!”

“This isn’t about fair. This is about lives. I’m going to stop this contest, I’m going to save those Scouts, and I’m going to make sure fabled beasts
never
hurt people again. I’m going to protect humans from what they don’t yet know is there.”

“Are you going to
tell
them?”

“If I have to!”

“Helen! You can’t!”

“Yes, I can. And I will, if it saves the Scouts. Are you going to stop me?”

The two of them faced each other, Yann towering over her, his fighting face on, his fists clenched.

Helen knew how strong Yann was, how much he prided himself on his fighting skills. Would he hurt her, to stop her getting on the boat?

She’d accused him of not trusting her. She’d said she might betray his world.

But would he hurt her?

Helen realised she still trusted their friendship. So she stepped towards the boat.

Yann barged into her, using the weight of his horse body and the height of his horse shoulders to push her backwards.

“Yann!” she said indignantly. She stepped forward again.

He kicked the air, rearing up, his huge heavy hooves whistling past her head.

Helen jerked back, shocked.

“Yann! Your hooves nearly hit me!”

“They
will
hit you, human girl, if you try to get past me again,” he said through gritted teeth. “Go back to the tent. Go back now.”

Helen looked up at him, embarrassed to realise there were tears in her eyes. Yann had tried to kick her!

Even when they first met, even when he didn’t like her or trust her, he had never tried to hurt her. Maybe nothing had changed. Maybe he still didn’t like her or trust her. Maybe they were all using her, her music, her first aid skills, her connections to the human world.

Helen wasn’t going to be used any more. She was making her own decisions now. She took another step forward.

Yann raised a hoof.

She looked down at his hooves. And she saw the messy coils of rope on the wet jetty. When they’d landed with the injured mermaid, Helen had been too rushed to tie up neatly.

She looked at the tangle of yellow rope. And at the four dark hooves.

Helen bit her lip. Did she really think she could beat Yann?

She stepped to the left, and Yann covered that move. She stepped to her right, and he moved too. His back left hoof stepped into a loop of rope.

Helen looked around the jetty, as if looking for an escape route, but really hoping to distract him from the
rope at his hooves. Just behind her, she saw something to distract him even more.

A long stick with a hook, like the pole her teacher used to open high windows in the classroom. She’d seen Sheila use this to haul waterlogged ropes out of the harbour. She grabbed it and waved the hooked end at Yann.

“Helen!” he said in exasperation. “Don’t take up weapons against me!”

“Why not?”

“Because you’re my friend. Because I don’t want to hurt you.” His voice was cracking. “But I can’t let you betray the selkies, or our whole world. Please put that down. I don’t want to hurt you, Helen.”

Helen jabbed the hooked pole at his chest.

He sidestepped the attack. Now two hooves were inside circles of rope.

“You know I have never been defeated. Not by anyone less than twice my size.”

“Then it’s high time you
were
defeated, you arrogant centaur.”

She swung the weapon at him. He stepped back to avoid the hook.

“Helen! Don’t do that!”

He stepped forward again, his front hooves placed into another rope tangle.

Lavender was shouting and Catesby was squawking, and Helen swung the pole again.

The centaur sighed. His hand flicked out, grabbed the pole, pulled it out of her hands, and threw it into the sea.

He crossed his arms and grinned. “Right. Enough of that foolishness. Let’s go back to the tent and talk about
this sensibly. You need to know …”

“I already know everything I need to. Including what you’re standing in.”

He looked down. She darted forward and pulled the rope. It tightened round his hooves and fetlocks. He kicked out but nearly lost his balance.

For the first time, Yann was as angry as Helen. He yelled, “Don’t you dare!” Lavender and Catesby were swooping at her, shrieking and pulling her hair.

She hauled on the rope again. Yann kicked out once more, and his right front hoof struck her thigh. His leg was hobbled by the rope, so the kick didn’t quite knock Helen over. But it did force her back, limping and gasping with pain.

She looked down. The rope was still wrapped round Yann’s hooves and legs, so she jerked the end as hard as she could. The centaur teetered on the slippy planks and fell backwards off the jetty, into the shallow water of the harbour.

Helen leapt into the boat, untied the tangled rope, and grabbed the oars.

As she rowed out to sea, facing the campsite, she watched a wet, angry, seaweed-covered centaur trying to clamber onto the jetty. She called, just loud enough for him to hear, “Who’s one step ahead now?”

Helen navigated herself towards the beach where she hoped she’d find the Scouts by keeping the constantly changing colours of the coastline’s cliffs, hills and beaches on her right.

She had learnt to row on a loch, with no big waves and no sharp rocks, and she’d never been out at sea on her own. But the sea was calm, she stayed close to the shore, and the boat was lighter without Yann.

Without anyone else to keep a lookout, she had to twist round regularly to check what was in front of the boat. She avoided the rocks she could see, and hoped there weren’t any submerged.

Then she heard her name being called. She looked up, and saw two bright dots against the pale cliffs. Catesby and Lavender.

The fairy screamed, “
Wait!
It’s not … The Scouts are …” Every third or fourth word was lost in the noise of water and seabirds. Catesby was flying round Lavender, his beak protecting the tiny fairy from the razorbills and guillemots on the cliff face, his wings sheltering her from the air currents.

Helen sighed. They had chased her out to sea, where neither of them had the weight to resist any wind, all
to help their friend Rona win.

“Helen, you might
drown
!” Lavender squealed.

Alright, maybe they were worried about her too. But they weren’t even slightly worried about the Scouts.

So Helen ignored her friends, and kept rowing along the curved coastline. Next time she turned round, she saw two stacks, tall fingers of rock sticking out of the water, at the point of a long headland. She recognised the Old Man and the Old Woman of Skerness, and she knew the wide beach was just beyond them.

Suddenly she heard a sound which made her fingers tighten and her spine freeze. She heard a song. A song which she had written with Rona a few weeks ago.

Rona was storm singing.

So the Scouts, and the contestants trying to drown them, must be at the beach behind that headland. Helen had come to the right place. But she’d got here too late. The task had started.

She could hear Rona adjusting her beat and pace so the song spoke with the wind and waves.

Helen felt a surge under the boat. The waves were joining in! The song was working. She regretted every minute she’d spent on this song, and regretted even more giving Rona the idea of how to sing a storm.

She heard another faint line of song, from further away or in a weaker voice. Serena’s voice? A song calling not to a storm, but to Helen’s heart, calling her closer, to adore the singer.

Helen stopped rowing at the foot of the stacks. She’d just realised something really obvious, something which Lavender had been trying to tell her.

Helen was in a boat.

The storm which Rona was singing up, the magnetic song of the mermaid, whatever weapon Tangaroa would use to sink his canoes. These would all work on her and her boat too. How could she possibly save anyone else?

She considered her chances. This boat was bigger, heavier and more stable than a canoe. She knew she was in danger, which might make her harder for Serena to fool, and harder for Tangaroa to attack, though no less vulnerable to the weather called up by her best friend.

So she hauled on the oars again. Once she’d rowed past the Old Man’s feet, she twisted round for a sudden open view of a bay filled with canoes, and a flat golden beach beyond. The wind was already whipping her hair around her face.

She glanced back the way she’d come. She couldn’t see Catesby and Lavender. When she’d paid no attention, they must have given up.

There were almost twenty canoes paddling off the beach. It was too late to warn them all; she would have to save individual Scouts. She could see a jumble of rocks out to the west, where the mermaid’s song was coming from, and a white vortex of spray in the open sea, which must be Rona’s storm. Tangaroa could be under the water anywhere off the beach.

Helen started rowing for the heart of the storm. It was nearest to her, so she could reach it and those endangered Scouts fastest. Also, if she saved the Scouts in the storm, then she could prevent Rona becoming a killer. She wanted to do that for her friend, even if Rona wouldn’t thank her.

The nearer she got to the canoes, the louder she could hear Serena’s song.

Helen’s arms kept trying to pull that way, to get nearer to the song, to learn it, to join in with it.

So Helen started to hum a piece of music she’d learnt last summer, music which battled against the mermaid’s song in her ears and her mind, diluting its power. Now she could control her arms and the oars; now she could row towards the Storm Singer and her storm.

Within moments she was in a whirling confusion of weather. She couldn’t hear the call of Serena’s song; she could barely hear Rona’s song. She was almost deafened by the whipping wind and crashing waves. The boat was harder to control, with water pouring over the bow and swirling in the bottom of the boat.

She twisted round to see how the lighter canoes were coping. There were about five or six trapped inside the selkie’s storm.

She watched in horror as a yellow canoe flipped over, and a red one vanished under the waves. A blue canoe was thrown into the air, and fell back prow first into the sea, tipping the canoeist out. A green canoe bobbed past her, upside down.

Two orange canoes were pressed close together, holding each other steady. The storm intensified around those two canoes and their screaming occupants, trying to force them under. But after each huge wave hit them, they bounced back up, like rubber ducks in a bath. So
Helen rowed past, heading for the sinking Scouts further on.

The waves made one more attempt to sink the orange canoes, and hit Helen’s boat on the way past, stinging her eyes, almost pulling the oars out of her hands.

As she rowed on, she saw long clear tentacles wrapped round the prows of the orange canoes, pushing them up out of the attacking waves.

Helen blinked her sore eyes. Was that the sea-through? Saving the Scouts? Why would it do that?

She reached the nearest splashing Scout. It was Emily, who’d been so scathing about Lavender’s dresses. Helen almost screamed in frustration as she tried to keep the boat steady and haul the soaking weight of a girl much bigger than her into the boat. Emily managed to hook her own arms then legs over, and clambered in.

Helen rowed to the next Scout in the waves. She controlled the boat while Emily pulled the boy out of the water.

Then Helen noticed the song had stopped, the waves and wind were dying down, her boat was easier to control.

As the spray left the air, she saw a dark head bobbing in the water.

Rona was beside the red canoe, her pale human arms reaching out for it.

Helen wondered if Rona was planning to pull people under the water personally, rather than let the wind and waves do it for her, and she started to row frantically towards the selkie and her victim.

But Rona rolled the canoe upright, then patted the canoeist, who was still inside, on the back to get water out of her mouth.

Helen called out, “Are you having a change of heart, killer?”

Rona swam over to the rowing boat, and glanced at the two Scouts, too busy spluttering to notice her. “No, Helen, I’ve not had a change of heart, I’m still trying to
win
!”

“What?”

“I don’t win by drowning them, you silly fool. I win by
saving them
.” She swam off towards the next struggling swimmer.

Helen stood up, rocking the boat in the choppy sea, and saw Rona guide another canoeist back to his boat, keeping his head above water.

Helen frowned. She turned towards Serena’s rocks. There was a confused-looking canoeist paddling in a circle, several broken and holed canoes floating nearby, and a group of bedraggled canoeists perched on the rocks. Serena, standing on her skinny legs, was pulling one last Scout out of the water.

At the beach, Helen recognised Tangaroa, his blue tattoos covered with a wetsuit, hauling a limp canoeist up the sand.

Helen sat down again, sighed deeply, and looked at the two Scouts she’d saved. “I’d better get you to shore.”

The beach was chaos: coughing Scouts, shouting leaders, boats being sent to fetch the Scouts on the rocks, heads being counted and hot drinks being made. So no one asked Helen any awkward questions. She helped the two Scouts onto the sand, and rowed away as fast as she could.

Once she was round the headland, she stopped rowing, and let the boat drift, shivering and rubbing tears from her eyes.

Five minutes later, a dark head popped up beside the boat, and Rona climbed in. She sat at the stern, smoothing down her grey dress, and holding her wet skin in one hand.

After a moment, Rona said, “They’re all fine. All safe on the beach. A few canoes are wrecked, but that’s a risk they take when they go to sea.”

Helen was silent, not sure if she should apologise or continue the argument she’d walked out on earlier.

Rona was happy with silence. She wasn’t a chatterer like Lavender. She sat calmly, folding her skin neatly, brushing the fur the right way.

Helen wanted to break the silence, but she had no idea what to say.

Rona stood up, stepped lightly to the middle bench, and put her arms round Helen. “I’m sorry.”

“What are you sorry for? I’m the one who didn’t trust my friends, stomped off in a tantrum, then ruined your contest. Did you win?”

“No.”

“Why not? You sang up a lovely storm.”

“I didn’t sink two of my boats. And I didn’t save everyone who went in.”

“I thought you said they were all fine?”

“They are. But you saved two of mine, so I don’t get points for them.”

“Sorry. Were the orange ones the two that didn’t sink?”

“Yes. No matter how high I made the waves, I just couldn’t push them under. I had to stop trying so I could save the four already in the water. So I’d no chance of winning. Even before you interfered.”

“I’m sorry. But I’m also confused. Was the task to sink them
and
to rescue them?”

“Of course,” said Rona. “Why wouldn’t it be? Selkies and mermaids often rescue sailors, you must have heard the old stories …”

“But surely you don’t want
new
stories, about selkies and mermaids spotted on the coast
now
. Didn’t they see you?”

“They saw us, but we can all look human, so they don’t know what saved them.”

“Or what sank them,” said Helen. “None of them did drown, but some of them might have if you hadn’t got to them on time. It was really dangerous!”

“No, it wasn’t! Every single adult selkie, mermaid and blue man was in that bay, ready to swim to the Scouts’ aid. If the contestants hadn’t saved them, not one of them would have drowned. They were safer this afternoon than any time they’ve ever been out in their canoes.”

“They didn’t know that. Neither did I.”

“You didn’t let me tell you. You wouldn’t listen when I tried to explain.”

“If you’d told me about the second task the first time I asked, rather than letting Serena put the worst possible spin on it …”

“I didn’t think you’d approve of us scaring them like that,” Rona said, quietly.

“I don’t, but scaring isn’t as bad as killing.”

“I can’t believe you thought I’d drown them!”

“I’m sorry I didn’t trust you.”

Rona was quiet, stroking her damp fur again, like a pet on her knee.

“So who did win?” Helen asked eventually.

“Tangaroa. He got six and six. Serena only smashed five of her six on the rocks because one of them had headphones in and didn’t hear her song properly. I was last: I only sank four and only saved
two
! But there are no prizes for second or third, so that’s one task to me, one to Tangaroa and nothing to Serena so far.”

Helen remembered something. “Those orange canoes. They didn’t sink because they were being held up by the sea-through.”

“Really?” Rona stood up and looked round. “Why would a sea-through save humans? They’re usually angry when humans trespass on the sea.”

“Maybe it cares more about stopping you winning than about stopping trespassers. Maybe that’s its plan. Rona, I really need to tell you what Lavender and I heard the sea-through say last night …”

“You saw the sea-through last night?”

“Yes, but first, I’d better apologise to Yann.”

“Why?”

“After you left, I had an argument with him too. A fight, really.”

“You had a
fight
with Yann? With fists and everything?”

“Not fists, just sticks and hooves and stuff.”

“Helen, are you alright?”

“I’m fine. I won.”

“You
won
! You beat Yann in a fight?”

“Yes.”

“
How?
”

“I tangled his hooves up in a rope, pulled the end and he fell in the bay.”

Rona’s face was a mix of admiration, shock and fear.
“Wow. Are you sure you want to apologise? Wouldn’t you be safer staying out here, at sea, until he calms down? You can stay with me for months, years, forever, if you need to …”

“Thanks, but I’d better say sorry. Is he still at the campsite?”

“No,” said Rona, “he’s there.” She pointed inland, to the tall centaur standing on the shore, as still and solid as the stacks of Skerness. “Do you want me to come with you? Stand between you?”

“To protect me? No, it’s ok. You need to get ready for the next task.”

Rona smiled in relief. “You’re sure? Good luck then. I’ll see you back at the campsite. You can tell me about the sea-through, and we can have a chat about tomorrow’s quest. I’ll need Lavender’s wisdom and Yann’s fighting tactics. Maybe I should ask you for battle tips too, my warrior friend!” She gave Helen a hug, and dived off the boat.

Helen rowed to shore, almost as nervous about facing Yann now as she had been on the jetty.

Yann didn’t say anything as she approached. He just stared out to sea.

She climbed out and stood beside him. He didn’t look at her.