It’s Faro who breaks the silence. He has left Elvira’s side and drifted close to me again. Sapphire, he says very quietly, he is your father.
No one else responds. It’s as if Faro hadn’t spoken, and all at once I realise that he said nothing aloud. His thoughts have touched my thoughts, as they’ve done so often.
I know, I answer silently, but—
You don’t know. He’ll be gone, and you might never see him again. You know the risks that lie ahead of us. If you haven’t said goodbye, it will hurt you.
I am taken aback by the certainty in Faro’s mind. How does he know these things?
Because it happened to me.
But, Faro—
There’s no time for buts, little sister. Say goodbye to him. Dad is looking at me with such hope in his face, and such pain.
“Dad …” I say aloud.
I don’t have to do any more. His face lights up. I don’t even see him move but the next second his arms are around me, crushing me so tight that my ribs hurt. I’ve been so afraid of his Mer self but when he hugs me I don’t even notice that he is Mer. His body is different, but he is still Dad.
“Sapphy,” he mutters in my ear.
“What?”
“Come back safe. Promise me you’ll come back safe.”
“I’ll be all right, Dad.”
I can tell he wants to cling on to me, but he lets go. I am back with the other three again, and Dad is separate.
“You’d better go now,” he says to all of us. He doesn’t want to swim away. He doesn’t want to be the one who leaves, not this time.
“See you later, Dad,” says Conor as if he’s going up to Jack’s for a couple of hours.
“See you later,” says Dad. He used to say it like that when he walked off up the track on a summer evening for a drink in the pub. But this time we are the ones who move. I stretch out my arms and kick through the water. First one stroke, then the next, and then the next. This time we’re heading north through unknown waters, and Dad is the one who stays behind. I look back over my shoulder as we swim away, gathering speed. I look once and then a second time. The last time I look it’s hard to see him, but I know he is still there, not moving, looking after us until we are out of sight.
“Yeah, well, I didn’t want to scare you. In the end we had to do the jump. Jack was in front of me so he went first and I had to watch him. Worst moment of my life. Well, nearly the worst.”
“But he didn’t fall.”
“Course he didn’t, idiot. He’s still alive, isn’t he? After that bit, it was easy.”
“So once we set out it’ll be easier.”
“Maybe.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
“I have always longed to see the world of ice,” says Elvira happily.
“Have you?” I look at her in surprise. I’ve never thought of Elvira as adventurous. But her usual rather annoying air of mysterious calm has vanished. Her eyes sparkle with suppressed excitement. For the first time, her expression is like her brother’s.
Elvira goes on eagerly, “Yes, Sapphire, always. When I heard stories about the North, it was like listening to tales of somewhere that I had travelled in another life.”
“But when we first suggested going north, you didn’t seem too happy about it.”
“That is because I thought we should not break with the tradition of the Crossing of Ingo. But now I believe that we have no choice, and so I’m free to think of the North.” Elvira laughs, showing her perfect teeth. “My mother would tell me about Mer people who lived in the North. Their hair was silver and their skin was as pale as the moon. She said they had learned to see in the dark because their world was dark for months on end in winter. When the light came back in summer, they never slept because the sun never slept either. I was so curious. I wanted to make friends with a Mer girl like that. I was only little and did not understand how far away the northern ice was, so one day I thought I would set out to find the world of ice for myself. I went off alone – I did not even tell Faro. I was about six years old. But perhaps Faro has told you about it?”
“No, he never has.”
Faro and Conor are up ahead, discussing our route again. Faro believes there is a very strong current about two days journey from here, which will take us directly east of a great frozen land mass. Conor and I think this means we’ll be travelling east of Greenland, towards the Arctic.
“I swam away silently while my mother was sleeping,” Elvira continues.
“Your mother?” My curiosity burns. I want to hear more about their mother. Faro never talks about his parents.
“Yes, Sapphire.” Elvira smiles the sweet, gentle smile that has infuriated me so often. “Has Faro never spoken to you about our mother?”
“No, not really,” I say reluctantly. I don’t want Elvira to think Faro doesn’t confide in me.
“He does not wish to speak of her. I understand that.”
“Why not, Elvira? Is she … is she dead?”
“Yes, she is dead,” says Elvira, still smiling at me. A surge of frustration goes through me. Elvira must have feelings – why does she hide them all the time? Or perhaps she only hides them from me.
“She died when we were seven.”
We? “You were both seven? You mean you and Faro are twins?”
“Of course. It is very common among us Mer.” Faro never told me that, either.
“She was ill for a long time, and then she went to Limina,” goes on Elvira in her silvery voice.
“That must have been so hard for you – and for your father,” I add, thinking that perhaps Elvira will tell me more about her family. I know nothing of their father either. Why haven’t I ever asked Faro? I know so little about him in some ways. And yet I know him so well – I understand him as if I really were his sister.
“We had no father,” says Elvira. “Saldowr is our guardian.”
Of course you had a father, I want to say. The word makes me feel raw. In my mind I see Dad watching as we swim away. Everyone has a father, even if they don’t see him or know him. Not to have a father is an-at-om-ic-ally im-poss-ible, as Faro told me when I first met him and suggested that he might be a “mermaid”. But Elvira’s sweet silveriness has a core of steel to it, and I don’t ask any more questions about her father.
“That must have been hard for you,” I repeat lamely, and then I remember that Elvira hasn’t finished telling me about her escape to the North experience. “So what happened when you ran away – I mean, swam away on your own? How far did you get?”
Elvira laughs. “Not very far. A dolphin who knew my mother found me wandering and brought me home. I was so angry, but I didn’t dare to show it. And when we got back, my mother hadn’t even noticed I was gone. She thought I was with Faro.”
We both laugh. It reminds me so much of the times I used to storm off in a temper when I was little, and hide under my duvet making secret plans to run away so no one would ever find me, and then they’d be really sorry and wish they hadn’t been so horrible to me … I did run away once or twice, but only as far as the end of the track. Elvira’s story makes me feel quite fond of her, for the first time ever.
At this moment there’s a yell from the boys. “Current! Current up ahead!”
“I thought it was two days away,” I shout back.
“Quick, we need to keep together! Elvira! Sapphire! Come on!”
As I reach them I see the current, about a hundred metres away. It’s a bright, glacial green, pulling at speed through the darker Atlantic water. Faro is assessing it with the kind of attention a canoeist might give to white-water rapids.
“Is it the current we want?” I ask.
“It’s definitely going north,” mutters Faro. “I’m not sure we can risk it, though. It’s very fast – and look how the flow keeps changing.” He’s right. As I watch, the current gives a wicked swerve as if it’s taking an invisible corner at top speed.
“It is unstable,” says Faro. “That is where the da
nger lies. As we go north they say there are mountains of ice that sail with their heads in the Air and body and tail deep in Ingo.”
“Icebergs!” says Conor.
“Icebergs – is that what you call them? They are mountains. The part that shows above the water is far higher than any of your cliffs. Here in Ingo they are ten times as large. The current must take us safely between these ice mountains. If we are hurled against them the ice is as sharp as coral. It would kill us for sure,” goes on Faro in a matter-of-fact tone. “I am not sure that we can trust this current …”
Faro talks about the current as if it’s a living creature, and perhaps it is. We all gaze at the sinewy race of it. It looks as if it is rushing north because, like Elvira, it has always dreamed of the world of ice. Perhaps it will turn into ice when it reaches the Arctic. I agree with Faro. I’m not sure we can trust it to keep us safe. The current is stretched out like a rope, but inside itself the strands coil like a serpent. Now I’m studying it I can see that the green colour is made up of thousands of different streams, some almost white, some emerald, some a bright, cold turquoise. I understand why Faro is scrutinising it so carefully. It might be deadly.
“It will take us where we want to go,” says Faro at last. “Are you sure?”
“Sure? What is sure when you are making the Crossing of Ingo?” he mocks me. “This is not a tame current. Even if we lie in its heart, we may be battered by its force.”
“Do you think we should risk it?” asks Conor.
“Yes,” says Faro.
“Saph? Elvira?”
“If Faro thinks so,” I say. Elvira says nothing. She’s deep in contemplation of the current.
“It is so beautiful,” she says quietly. I watch the flash and turn of the water. It reminds me of jewels – diamonds and emeralds – but no jewels have so much life in them.
“We’ll take that as a yes, then,” says Conor.
We decide that we’ll dive one by one. As each dives, the other will follow immediately. Once we are in the current we must swim to its heart. I know from past experience that currents are like storms. All the fury is on the outside, but in the heart, or eye, there is stillness.
Faro will dive first, then me, then Elvira and Conor last. We must keep close and not hesitate because if the current gives one of its sudden, wicked-looking swerves, one or more of us could be left behind.
“What if we get separated?” I ask.
“Keep going north. Ask every creature you meet if it has seen any of us. But be careful of the orcas, little sister. Remember that sometimes they refuse to hear that we are Mer. They may not hear that you are human and prefer to believe that you are a seal.” I shiver.
“Keep going north …” repeats Elvira dreamily. Conor looks at her, frowning slightly. Elvira looks a million miles away from us, lost in her own world. But we have to be alert. We have to keep together. This is real.
“Are you ready?” asks Faro. The muscles in his shoulders tense. His tail lashes from side to side, gathering power. His arms go back, and his tail whips up and then down. He plunges forward and vanishes into the current. Instantly, without thinking, I follow him.
I’m inside, looking out. A veil of a million shimmering particles hides me. It was easy, I think with a surge of joy and relief. I’ve dived straight to the heart of the current.
The green Atlantic rushes past me at a speed I’ve never known before. This is a new world, where mighty currents sweep from ocean to ocean, grazing continents as they go. Faro told me about the Great Current once. This can’t be it because the Great Current goes southwards. But this one deserves to be called great, too.
Faro is ahead of me. His arms are pressed to his sides, like mine. We can’t speak to each other because our voices would be drowned in the roar of rushing water. I open my thoughts and try to find his. Faro?
A surge of exultation hits me. Faro is loving this. The force of the current and the excitement of the journey flood his mind so that there’s no room for anything else. But I want to talk to him.
Faro? It’s me, Sapphire.
Slowly, reluctantly, his thoughts make room for me. Sapphire? Isn’t it amazing, Faro? As soon as the thought leaves my mind I know it’s stupid. He doesn’t need me telling him it’s amazing, because he knows it with every fibre of his body. I’ll leave him alone. I’ll let go, let the current take us, and stop thinking.
But it’s too late for that. Faro is restless now. Look behind you, Sapphire. Can you see the others?
I am doubly stupid. I haven’t even bothered to check that Conor and Elvira are safely in the current. But it’s hard to turn round against the rush of water. Slowly, centimetre by centimetre, I twist my body until I’m lying sideways, and I can look back and down my body.
I’m staring into a green tube that coils round and round on itself with dizzying speed. A crush of bubbles hides everything. There’s no sign of Conor or Elvira. Maybe it’s because I’m ahead of them. I could see Faro clearly because I was behind him. Probably the others are just hidden by the surging coil of the current. I wish I could share thoughts with Conor, but I’ve never been able to – at least, only in the ordinary human brother-and-sister way. As for Elvira’s thoughts, I’ve never even tried to enter them. She is so different from me that I’ve always been sure I wouldn’t succeed.
But what if they’re not there? What if Faro and I are rushing on faster and faster and they are left behind? We mustn’t lose one another. Whatever happens, we must be together.
Nightmare images dance in my mind. Conor knocked sideways by the power of the current, losing sight of us. A prowling killer whale, forgetting that Conor and Elvira are human and Mer. Or perhaps Ervys’s followers, swimming steadily north, catching up with us—
Sapphire. Faro has broken into my thoughts. Listen. I will have to close my thoughts to you while I try to find Elvira. She is far away and I need all my strength. Don’t be afraid, little sister. I am still here, even if you can’t communicate with me. Don’t lose sight of me.
I’ve lost touch with how long we’ve been inside the current. It could be an hour or a hundred years. All I hear is the thunder of the Atlantic pouring past me, and the deeper, serpentine roar of the current that has hold of me.
We were travelling so fast that everything we passed was a blur. It hurt to look at it. I knew I must look ahead and fix my eyes on Faro. His shape shimmered and dazzled up ahead of me. Sometimes I thought I’d lost sight of him, and a wash of panic went through me, and then I found the outline of his tail again through millions of dancing green and silver and turquoise particles. Sometimes he seemed to dissolve completely, as if the current had swallowed him. I couldn’t find him with my mind. I had to keep on believing that he was there, up ahead of me, and I wasn’t alone.
If I let myself think about Conor I felt the kind of terror you experience when you’re standing on the edge of a cliff and a buffet of wind hits your back and you feel yourself start to sway so that the churning water far beneath you seems to rock towards you – and poor Elvira, dreaming of the North and the ice. She was longing to make this journey and now perhaps she’s been separated from Conor as well as from me and Faro. She might be alone, terrified …
The water we sped through was growing darker. Either night was coming, or we were being pulled deeper. At that moment the current whipped round so sharply that I felt as if I was going to break in half. The rush of speed stopped, the current convulsed and I was flying through the dark water alone. In the distance I saw the thick green rope of water pounding on without me.
I’m alone. But not in the Deep alone, I tell myself firmly in case panic sets in. The water has darkened but I can still see my own hands moving through it like ghosts. I’ve never seen such clear water. It’s as pure as crystal. I’m afraid to look far and see the emptiness. Conor left behind, Elvira vanished too. I don’t know what’s happened to Faro. Everything has failed. We haven’t kept together and now I’m alone somewhere thousands of miles fro
m home. I will never be able to find my way back.
I can sense a huge shadow on my left side. I won’t look. I won’t give it – whatever it is – the satisfaction of knowing that I’m icy with fear. Orcas – killer whales – Faro says they sometimes forget that you are human. They’re not the only ones. I’m not sure that I’m human any more. I’m not sure where I am or who I am. I was so confident, telling Dad that my Mer blood wanted me to make the Crossing and I had no choice. Now I don’t feel either Mer or human. I just feel … lost.
“Little sister?”
“Oh, Faro. Oh, Faro.”
He’s behind me, swimming towards me faster than I’ve ever seen him swim. I’m almost sobbing with relief as I swing round towards him. We grab hold of each other. I can hear his heart thundering and I am sure he can hear mine. “I thought I’d lost you,” he says.
“I thought I’d lost you.”
“I know. I’m sorry. I should never have closed my mind to you. I thought I’d never find you again.”
“Me too.”
I realise I’m clinging to him. But he’s clinging to me too, as if we’ve found each other in a shipwreck. We let go, and smile shakily at each other.
“That was awful,” I say.
“I shouldn’t have trusted that current.”
You’re not to blame,” I say quickly. “It was the current – and maybe we didn’t hold on tight enough to each other in our minds. But, Faro,” I go on very quietly, in case whatever is making the huge shadow might hear us, “can you feel something? Over there to the right?”
“I think it is an ice mountain.”
“How do you know?”
“Look at it, Sapphire.”
I turn reluctantly towards the shadow. It has come a little closer, drifting noiselessly towards us.
“Look down,” says Faro.
He is right. Far below me there is a mountain range of ice. Spurs as sharp as daggers reach up towards us. There are dark blue valleys and long slopes that glisten in the dimming light. So this is an iceberg. It looks like a whole country made of ice.