Magnus Fin and the Moonlight Mission (3 page)

Magnus Fin knew what he would see before he reached the flat rocks. He kept walking even though Tarkin was almost hoarse with shouting for him to go back. The smell reached him and sickened him. Tarkin was trying to block the awful sight. But it was no good. Magnus Fin drew level with his friend and stared down to where three dead seals lay side by side on the flat rock. They weren’t pups but large grey seals. Magnus Fin closed his eyes and stumbled as though he might faint. Tarkin grabbed his arm and tried to pull Fin away.

“Hey, Fin, let’s get out of here. Race you up the brae to school, buddy …” But Tarkin’s words fluttered around him like the wind.

Magnus Fin stared down at the bodies of the seals, the stench of death and seaweed clinging to the back of his throat. He could see no marks on their bodies. He fell to his knees and touched their fur. It was warm. They hadn’t been dead long. What had happened to them?

“Maybe it was that winkle picker,” Tarkin said, edging back and looking anxiously up the coast in the direction he had gone. “Hey, Fin,” he said nervously, “let’s get out of here. There’s something weird going on and I don’t like it. Not one bit.”

“But what happened to them?” That’s all Fin could say. He said it over and over, shaking his head, not able to pull his eyes away.

“Fin, I don’t know and I don’t much feel like finding out. Old age, maybe? Like my granddad; you know, it happens.”

“But not like this,” Magnus Fin said, still stroking the fur of the three creatures, first one then another. “They’re not old. They’re young. These seals are about five years old, and they’re strong – or they were. They should be swimming under the sea. Not lying here dead.”

Now that Tarkin looked properly he could tell these seals weren’t old. Their skins were sleek and their faces were smooth, but a film lay over their blank eyes. “You know what Sargent’s like if we’re late. Come on, Fin, let’s split.”

Magnus Fin looked slowly up at his friend. “Something’s wrong under the sea, Tarkin. They’re calling me; I know it. See their white eyes? I’ve got to go.” Fin got to his feet.

“Poor things,” said Tarkin, and for a moment the two boys just stared down in silence. “Are they selkies, do you think?”

Fin shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know.”

They left the three dead seals lying side by side on the flat rock. A crow squawked and circled overhead.

Magnus Fin and Tarkin walked in silence along the beach. Even if they’d felt like eating, there was no time for breakfast. Any minute now the school bell would ring. They hurried along the harbour road then up the hill towards school.

“Take me under the sea with you, Fin,” Tarkin blurted out at last, breaking the silence.

“Tarkin – you can’t even swim.”

Tarkin shrugged his shoulders and twisted his earring around. For once he was stumped for an answer. Magnus Fin had been trying hard to teach his friend to swim for four months. Tarkin’s legs were too long or his arms too uncoordinated perhaps, but he could only manage three strokes at the most then he would start thrashing about and sink.

“And,” Fin added, “you can’t breathe underwater.”

“OK, I get it. You’re the special one.” There was hurt in his voice. “So, when are you planning on going?”

“Soon. I don’t know.” Fin shrugged his shoulders. He looked confused. “At the next low tide I suppose.”

“When’s that?”

Fin knew his tide tables. He read them like other people read comics. “Half past six tonight. And, Tarkin,” he added, “I didn’t ask to be special.” He thumped Tarkin gently on the arm. “I would take you with me if I could.”

Tarkin nodded as though he understood. “I know. But, like, won’t it be freezing?”

“My wetsuit’s thick,” Fin said, “and maybe I’ve got selkie blood and blubber!” With not an ounce of fat on him it was supposed to be a joke, but with the memory of the three dead seals heavy between them they didn’t laugh.

It wasn’t the cold, though, that was worrying Magnus Fin. It was the thought of what he might meet under the sea. Last time, he’d been forced to fight a terrible sea monster. He thankfully came back safe and sound, but
poor Aquella lost her seal skin. He took a deep breath and glanced at Tarkin. His friend looked glum. Fin knew the swimming thing was hard for Tarkin.

He dived into his pocket and fished out the sand glass he’d found first thing that morning. “Wee present for you, Tark,” he said, handing it to him.

“Hey – sand glass. Cool!” Tarkin looked through it, just as Magnus Fin had done. Maybe it was the unexpected gift, or something he saw magnified through it, but suddenly Tarkin brightened up. He pocketed the glass carefully then swung his rucksack through the air.

“Come on, M F,” he said. “If you’re gonna save the seals, T here’s gonna help you. That’s what friends are for. Come on, buddy, race you to school!”

Magnus Fin was quiet in school all that day. They were doing the ancient Egyptians which he really liked, but today he couldn’t concentrate. Tarkin saved him three times. They had a code for passing answers, which Sargent hadn’t cracked yet. It wasn’t that Magnus Fin was slow. It was just that his mind was often on other subjects, like things under the sea. He sat up and listened, though, when Mr Sargent spoke about tombs and pharaohs and lost cities beneath the waves.

“There are many sunken cities in the world,” the teacher said, sweeping his arm across the map, most of which was coloured blue, meaning ocean. “Lost continents even.” Fin’s eyes grew wide as pancakes. For the first time that day he forgot about the three dead seals and the underwater journey that lay ahead. Sunken cities! Wow! Sunken continents!

“Like Atlantis?” Retha asked.

“Well done, Retha, clever girl. Exactly. Like Atlantis.”

Tarkin glanced across at Magnus Fin. It was rare for Fin to put his hand up in class, but he did. “Are there any up here?” he asked, his mind now brimming with sunken palaces, churches, underwater streets and watery houses.

“Good question, bo— I mean Magnus – um Fin. Divers, it seems, don’t like cold northern turbulent
waters. Lots of sunken cities have been discovered in the sea off the coasts of India and Egypt, but very little research has been done up here. Too blooming cold. Ha-ha!”

Magnus Fin went back to his dreaming after that, but the thought of finding an underwater city comforted him. Just think of all the treasures he’d find down there! They’d have to flit to a bigger house. He’d need a huge room for all that treasure …

“Fin!”

Then maybe he’d find a sunken harbour of ships as well.

“Psst! Magnus Fin!”

School was over. The bell had rung. The classroom was empty apart from Magnus Fin sitting there staring into space. Tarkin had his jacket on and his new stripy scarf tied round his neck. He was prodding Magnus Fin and eating a banana. “Come on, Fin. You don’t want the janitor to lock you in.”

Fin shook himself awake and scrambled to his feet. “Race you down the brae,” he said, and dashed out of the classroom, leaving Tarkin staring after him with a half-eaten banana in his hand.

Fin was fast today, faster even than long-legged Tarkin. As he raced pell-mell down the brae, images of sunken cities, dead seals, sunken ships and swaying forests of seaweed played like a film in his head. Tarkin was gaining on him. Fin ran faster, his arms pumping furiously back and forth. What kind of help, he wondered, was Tarkin planning? Should he tell Aquella? Should he tell his dad? And would Miranda be there to meet him when he opened the door to the sea?

“Gotcha!” Tarkin caught up with him. He was panting hard and fumbling in his pocket. “You dropped something,” he said, thrusting a small white and orange stone into Fin’s hand, “and I bet it’ll come in handy for this mission you’ve got ahead of you.”

Fin stared down at his open palm. In it lay his
moon-stone:
the stone his father had given him when he first went under the sea to help the selkies. It was his bravery stone that he always wore around his neck. He couldn’t believe that today of all days the lace it dangled from had broken. He curled his fingers around the
moon-stone
and smiled broadly at his friend.

“You’ve helped me already, Tark.” Fin’s green eye shone as he felt strength and excitement pour into him. “Thanks a million.”

“No worries, man,” Tarkin said, panting and flicking strands of hair out of his eyes. “I’m happy to help.”

“Well, you could come and wait for me if you want, tonight when I go under the sea? You could sit on the rocks. And bring some of that toffee your mum’s always buying you. It would feel better under the sea if I had your mum’s toffee to think about.”

Tarkin grinned. “Sure, buddy, I’ll be there. I’ll stuff my pockets full of toffees. And I’ll bring the torch, and a blanket. Hey, I’m in on the moonlight mission. How cool is that?”

“But, Tarkin,” Fin said, pocketing the precious moon-stone and biting his lip, “don’t try and swim after me. Please don’t do that. Do you promise?”

Tarkin put his hand to his heart and solemnly promised. “Course not, buddy,” he said, winking. Then the two boys walked along the harbour road to
the bridge. Tarkin started chanting one of the Native American protection spells he had learned back home, and Magnus Fin hoped it really would protect him.

“See ya soon,” Tarkin said when they parted at the bridge.

Fin glanced at his watch then waved. The tide would be fully out in two and a half hours time. Walking back along the track to the cottage he felt dizzy with excitement. It had been dangerous the first time he had gone under the sea. He gulped remembering just how scary it had been. Fin felt the excitement tighten into fear. “You have to go,” he said to himself, “and it’ll be fine.” But he still felt anxious.

So he thought of the three dead seals. He thought of the letters M F written on the rocks. He thought of his beautiful grandmother Miranda. He was being called, and he, Magnus Fin, would go.

At five o’clock Magnus Fin pulled on his wetsuit. Unusually the cottage down by the sea was empty. His mother worked in the jewellers in town. Perhaps, thought Magnus, she’d missed the bus. His father was still up at the farm bringing the cows in for the winter and the last of the hay inside. Aquella, whose music teacher had discovered she had a good singing voice
and
could play the clarsach, was at her band practice. In any case, Fin had decided it would be easier not to tell Aquella exactly when he was going. It was hard enough for her being a selkie with no seal skin, learning to be a land girl, sleeping in a bed and walking on pavements. She didn’t need more to worry about.

So Fin was alone, and feeling more nervous by the minute. Dressed in his wetsuit he sat at the kitchen table and ate one of those pasta dinners you heat up and eat all by yourself. He wasn’t hungry, but it might be a long time before he would eat again, and the pasta would give him warmth and energy.

He had tied his moon-stone to a new leather lace and it now hung around his neck. He glanced out of the window. In twenty minutes it would be low tide, and already it was dark. As he played with his food he spoke to himself, trying to pump himself up with
courage. “You’ll be fine, Magnus Fin. You’re half selkie, half human. You’re half child, half man.
Sliochan Nan Ronnie
or something like that – that’s you – special! Something’s up under the sea and you’re being called.”

Suddenly from outside he heard three short whoops. That could only be Tarkin. Fin looked around the room, wishing he could find a sudden surge of excitement. The fire was out. The clock ticked loudly. Seconds dragged. Time, Fin knew, moved differently under the sea. A minute on land could feel like a day under the sea. How long, he wondered, would he be gone this time? Slowly Fin got up and with a sense of dread left the cottage and went out into the night.

All the excitement was in Tarkin. “Wow! Cool wetsuit man. You look like a real diver.”

Fin scowled. “I am.”

“Well, let’s go, diver! We’ve got eleven minutes.” Tarkin was hopping from foot to foot.

“We?”

“OK, OK, you.”

Tarkin had brought a torch, a blanket, a flask of hot chocolate, a thick towel, plus his pockets were stuffed with toffees. His enthusiasm was contagious and soon Magnus Fin’s gloomy mood lifted and he was jogging along beside Tarkin.

“You think of everything, Tark,” Fin said, running in the path of light from Tarkin’s torch.

“Yeah, I know. Oh, man, I am just so excited.”

Magnus Fin was beginning to feel the same, but even so, as they clambered over the rocks Fin wished that he was the one holding the torch and Tarkin the one wearing the wetsuit. Why couldn’t it be him sitting on
the rock chanting protection spells and stuffing himself with toffee while Tarkin went under the sea?

“Boy oh boy, we’re here,” Tarkin shouted, “with half a minute to go. I’ll do the countdown. Get ready, M F.”

Magnus Fin kicked off his trainers, curled his toes over the edge of the black rock and stared down into the dark, swirling water.

Tarkin wrapped himself in a fleecy blanket and got comfortable on top of the rock. He put his flask and a small pile of toffees by his side then started to shout, “Ten! Nine! Eight!”

Magnus Fin took a deep breath. The moon glinted like coins on the black water.

“Seven! Six! Five!” Tarkin shone his torch down onto the water.

Fin thought of the three dead seals. He thought of the writing on the rocks. He thought of his grandmother.

“Four! Three! Two!” Tarkin’s voice was rising with excitement.

Fin thought about himself – half a selkie – called under the water. He bent his knees and swung his arms back. This was it. It was now or never.

“One! Jump!”

Fin didn’t move. His knees quaked. He bit his lip. It looked so dark down there, and cold.

“JUMP!” Tarkin yelled. “Jump or I’ll push you!”

Magnus Fin jumped, splashing into the freezing sea. His hand groped through the water to find the shell handle of the door that led to the selkie’s underwater world. Grasping it, he pulled and immediately felt himself being sucked through, into a flash of bright emerald-green light. The light was blinding, the sound
that filled his ears rushing. His lungs felt fit to burst.

Then a change came over him, and Magnus Fin could breathe under the sea. And though the beam of light from Tarkin’s torch penetrated downwards through the water, it was nothing to the light that shone out from the blue pupils of Magnus Fin’s eyes. He blinked, and brilliant silvery beams of light stretched through the sea.

He kicked and dived deeper. A thrill shot through his whole body.
I’m home again
, he thought,
I’m home under the sea!
And the fear that had weighed on him all day was gone.

Through the swirling water Fin spied a tiny crab. It was clinging to the other side of the rock door and appeared to be waiting for him. For a second the crab looked up at Fin then scuttled off, across the rock and through the water, its small legs paddling frantically like oars. A shudder of recognition ran through Fin as he pushed himself away from the black rock. Was this the crab he had last seen heading into the debris of the monster’s awful crumbling palace?

The crab stopped paddling and turned around.
That’s right
, he said, answering Fin’s thoughts.
We meet again
.

Perhaps it was the memory of how brave this crab had been during his last mission, but Fin instantly trusted it.

For such a tiny thing it moved fast. Fin kicked his feet and stretched his arms wide, gliding forward. The crab darted in and out between fronds of seaweed. Sometimes the crab shot a glance behind to make sure Magnus Fin was following. He was. He didn’t know what else to do. Fin had forgotten how easily he moved through the water. What a sense of freedom he felt to be
deep under the sea again. Forests of algae and seaweed waved to him like long lost friends. The fish that swam past seemed to flick their tails in welcome. His selkie heart thrilled. As Magnus Fin swam on and gazed around him, he wondered why he had felt afraid of this wonderful watery world.

This is the best place ever
, Fin thought, gliding onwards, kicking his feet and smiling from ear to ear.