Faro’s weight tugs at me, pulling me back towards Ingo. But I can’t sink down yet. Instead I find myself speaking into the silence.
“The Atka,” I say. “What is the Atka?”
Immediately an ice floe in the distance gives a shiver, as if the wind were blowing it. It’s not very big, only about the size of a table, and a metre or so high. Slowly the shiver changes to movement, as if an invisible hand were pushing the ice floe from behind. It turns towards me, and as it turns I see that there’s someone sitting on the scooped-out floe. It’s a girl, about my age. Her hair is silver and her skin as pale as the moon.
I blink hard, squeezing my eyes together until they sting. When I open them she’ll be gone. She’s just a trick of the moonlight. I open my eyes and the girl is still there. Her face is clear and definite, but her body looks as if it’s wrapped in a robe of fog. Suddenly I remember what Elvira said about the Mer of the North, with their pale bodies and silvery hair. But some instinct deep in me makes me sure that whatever else this creature is, she isn’t Mer. She doesn’t look as if she belongs in Ingo. She looks as if she’s grown out of the ice.
I feel sure I’ve seen her face before. She isn’t beautiful like Elvira. Her face is small and fierce. Her hair looks as if it’s been charged by electricity into a wild silver halo.
“Who are you?” I whisper to myself, not thinking that she’ll hear me across the stretch of water that separates us. But she does. She laughs, and each note of her laughter tingles as sharply as an icicle.
“Don’t you recognise me?”
“Have I seen you before?”
“Oh yes, I think so. But humans don’t remember, do they? All their memories from before they are born are hidden from them.”
Is this creature really saying that I knew her before I was born? She must be mad. She’s got to be. I’d better humour her.
“I thought you looked a bit familiar,” I say lamely. Her hair glitters in the frosty moonlight as she nods her head.
“Come closer,” she invites me.
“I can’t!” I don’t mean to shout, but my voice ricochets against the ice. I’m afraid that there may be more hidden listeners. Ice spirits, tucked away on the floes and in the chambers of icebergs.
“Can’t?” Her voice is mocking but not hostile.
“No, I—” Has she seen Faro? Can she see his shadow drifting in the water just beneath the surface? I don’t feel as if it’s safe for her to see Faro. If that fog around her body would stop swirling for a second, I’d be able to see her clearly – but it won’t stop. It swirls as if the ice itself is breathing in and out.
“Who are you?” I repeat.
She laughs. “I’m your Atka, of course,” she answers.
The power of the word thrills through me, and so does fear. I am not even sure that she’s real and solid now. If I touch her, and she’s a spirit, then my hand will plunge into icy breath. I nerve myself to ask the question, even though I dread the answer.
“Can you tell me what an Atka is?”
“Your Atka protects you. Didn’t you hear Nanuq?”
Doubt rolls over me. It could be a trick. If she’s supposed to be protecting me, she hasn’t had much success so far. Conor’s gone, I’m alone in the Arctic, and I don’t know where to go or what to do. Only the plait of the deublek that links me to Faro feels real.
“Where did you come from?” I ask, trying to keep fear and suspicion out of my voice.
“Oh, I’ve been here for a long time. I was waiting for you,” says the Atka.
“You couldn’t have been. I didn’t even know I was coming here. No one did.”
“Baby reindeer says to mother reindeer: Where did you find those berries? Mother reindeer says to baby reindeer: Under your nose.”
Hmm. I may not know anything about ice spirits, but I know all about people trying to patronise me. “Have you seen my brother?” I ask her sharply. She opens her eyes wide. Their pupils are sickle moons of black bathed in icy, silvery irises.
“I have not seen your brother,” she says with an indifference that chills me. It’s clear that it wouldn’t matter to her whether Conor were alive or dead.
“But if you’re supposed to be protecting me, can’t you help me find him? I need him!”
“No. I am your Atka, not your brother’s.”
“Then you’re no use to me!” I say furiously. The Atka laughs as if what I’ve just said is not only inoffensive, but also extremely funny. Her ice floe spins in a full circle, and her hair flies around her like a cloud. She comes back to face me.
“Do you even know what an Atka is?” she demands.
“Obviously not.” I’d be tempted to plunge across to her and give her a slap if it weren’t for the risk of plunging my hand into icy, living fog.
Faro’s weight shifts, and I grasp his wrist more firmly. How can he manage to sleep through all this? Maybe there are more kinds of people living in Ingo than I’ve ever realised – not only the Mer and a few humans who have enough Mer blood to survive—
“Neither Mer nor human,” says the girl. “Just your Atka.”
Suddenly I am very, very afraid. She is invading my thoughts. I don’t mind when Faro does it: I know Faro.
Alatuk alatuk Atka, Atka amaluk alatuk, croons the girl softly, like a mother bending over a cradle to soothe a restless baby.
“What does it mean? Who are you?”
The girl’s face is coming into sharper focus. As I watch, lips, eyes and mouth become distinct in the moonlight. Her colouring is as different from mine as a negative is from a printed photo, but it is like looking into a mirror. The Atka has taken my face. But she didn’t look like that a minute ago, I’m sure of it. She’s mirroring me.
“Don’t be afraid,” says the Atka. “It’s just a song. It means, “Little one, listen to your Atka,” that’s all. Only your Atka can tell you when it is time to leave the world. Come a little closer so that you can see me properly. There’s nothing to be afraid of.”
“No,” I say loudly. “No. No, I’m not coming anywhere near you.”
The Atka raises her eyebrows. “Haven’t I told you there is nothing to be afraid of? The Atka protects you. Nanuq knew that. Nanuq knew that only your Atka knows when it is time for you to change one world for another. And I am not telling you that now. You must stay in your world and fight its battles. I am only showing myself to you so that you will know me again, when it is time.”
But the Atka is moving closer on her throne of ice. The floe glides across the water towards me, faster and faster. I am frozen. If the Atka touches me, I’ll dissolve into terror, like ice into water. And yet at the same time I want to touch her. I want to know what she really is: a dream or a spirit or a living creature. I hang in the water, staring into the Atka’s sickle-moon pupils, tempted, mesmerised. The Atka doesn’t look like me any more. Her hair is a glittering crown and her fingers are shards of ice. She stretches out one hand, ready to touch me.
But before her ice floe can cover the remaining space of water between us, something else presses against the back of my hand. The deublek. Faro’s hair plaited with mine. His wrist under my hand. I hear Faro’s voice in my mind: Two together. And strong as we were strong in the Deep. His words melt the spell that holds me frozen. In the half second before the Atka reaches me, I dive.
Faro is shaking me. My heart is thundering. “Wake up! Wake up, little sister!”
I struggle back to consciousness. “Where is she?”
Only Faro is there, wide awake, watching me with concern. “You had a nightmare,” he says. “You were screaming.”
“No, it wasn’t a nightmare, Faro. It was real. It was the Atka.”
“The Atka? What is that?”
“A girl, a girl like me. She had my face but no body, at least I don’t think she had a body. There was a fog swirling around her, and then she had a crown.”
I expect Faro to laugh at me, but he doesn’t. His brows draw together in a frown. “You have b
een visited by a spirit,” says Faro decisively. “I have always been told that the world of ice is haunted by spirits, some bad, some good. Your Atka, I think, was a bad spirit.”
“But she said she was here to protect me. I think she was, in a way … but she only wanted me; she didn’t care about the rest of you. I wish you’d told me about the spirits, Faro,” I add shakily, trying to make a joke of it. “I would have chosen the southern route and the sharks.”
“Maybe you were asleep and it was all a dream,” says Faro, but I can tell he doesn’t really think it was. His expression is clouded. I can’t get the face of the Atka out of my mind. Even though I’m still shaking with fear, I want to see her again. I think that Faro is wrong. She wasn’t a bad spirit. Just very, very frightening.
You will know me again, when it is time.
“Maybe you’ve got an Atka too, Faro,” I say, but Faro wrinkles his nose in disdain.
“No evil spirit of the ice is going to run my life,” he says. “If I see my Atka, little sister, I will do – what is that word you told me for not looking at a person?”
“Blanking.”
“I will blank my Atka,” says Faro grandly. “Good luck with that, Faro.”
I force the memory of the Atka down into the depths of my mind. Think about now, Sapphire. Think about everything you can do to find Conor again. Think about Saldowr.
“We had no choice,” says Faro, and it takes me a minute to know what he’s talking about. Our route, of course.
“I know that, Faro. The sharks would have killed us if we’d gone south.”
“We will do it this way, little sister. We will not fail,” says Faro between his teeth, and I know that he’s talking to himself as much as to me. The Atka’s words echo in my head. You must stay in your world and fight its battles.
Day is coming again. The rising sun sends a bloody stain through the water, and then cloud covers it and the sea turns grey. The light is wan and heavy, as if winter is almost here. It’s the second day, the one when we have to go north, but still there’s no sign of Conor or Elvira.
“Oh, Faro, I wish they were here.”
“So do I.”
“There’s got to be something more we can do.”
Faro doesn’t answer. Instead he takes hold of my hands and begins to rub them between his. “You look ill, little sister. When I was very young, I remember my mother rubbing my hands like this. She said it was to make the blood move faster in my body.” He looks up with a quick, brilliant smile, then carries on rubbing.
“Faro, stop! Our deubleks have got tangled. They’ll break—”
“No, they won’t.” Carefully Faro begins to ease the bracelets apart, but they refuse to separate.
“Two together. And strong as we were strong in the Deep,” I say aloud.
“What’s that?”
“The deubleks, Faro! Maybe they’ve joined together for a reason. Maybe they know something we don’t,” I say, excitement rising in me. “Listen, let’s try to say it again, together. It might give us a chance.”
“Say what? You mean, Two together …”
“No, not that! I mean, I wish they were here. Say it, Faro, say it. Make the wish while the deubleks are joined.”
I can tell he thinks it’s pointless, but he shrugs and agrees. “If you want it so much, Sapphire.”
My voice shakes with hope as I say, “Now.”
Both together, we say the words. Nothing happens. “Let’s try again.”
This time Faro rolls his eyes impatiently, but he repeats the words with me anyway. Again, nothing happens, except that when I look down I see that our deubleks are not caught in each other any more. Our wrists separate and drop to our sides. “Well, that’s that then,” I say flatly.
I told you so may be trembling on Faro’s tongue, but he doesn’t say it.
“We must make our plans to travel on, little sister,” he says quietly. “We are going to have to rely on ourselves, not on any magic.”
I feel as if I’ve swallowed a stone, but just then my brother’s face floats to the surface of my mind. He is not looking at me but downwards, with the serious, rather stern expression he used to have when he was learning a new chord sequence on his guitar. Conor often looks serious when he’s happy. A flood of longing fills my mind. If only I could see him, just for one moment. If only I could know he was all right. I could make the Crossing without him, as long as I knew that he was safe. Just for one second – please, Conor, please—
“Don’t!” cries Faro. “Stop your thoughts! I can’t hear her!”
“Faro, what is it?”
“Elvira is there! I feel her! I hear her! But your thoughts are too strong for me, they are blotting her out.”
“You can sense Elvira?”
“Yes, she is there. I am sure she is there. Let me hear her, Sapphire!”
If Elvira is there, then Conor may be there too. I wrench my mind away from my brother.
“Think of something else!” says Faro urgently.
I think of the whale. My dear friend the sperm whale, who saved my life in the Deep, and who risked her life to protect us and bring us back safely after we had fought the Kraken. I think of her rough skin and her gentle spirit. Her awful jokes and the way she longs to see her daughter who has gone to the bottom of the world. The whale says: You please me, little one. She doesn’t expect me to be any different from what I am. Whenever I think of the whale, I feel safe. She’s hundreds of miles away – maybe thousands – but it feels as if part of her presence is with me now, supporting me, telling me that there is hope. We will find the others; I know we will. We’ll all go to the bottom of the world together, and I’ll find the whale’s daughter too.
“She is there,” says Faro.
I’m so deep in thoughts of the whale that for a second I expect to see her huge body swimming towards us.
“Elvira,” says Faro. He straightens his body and throws back his head. His face is pale, but triumphant. “I’ve found her. She is far away from us, but she hears me too.”
I move my lips although I can hardly bear to form the words.
“And Conor?” I manage at last.
“Conor is with her.”
The next moment we’ve grabbed each other by the elbows and are shaking each other as hard as we can, as if it’s the only way to believe something as wonderful as this. Faro’s sharp, perfect teeth gleam as his smile widens. “Stop it, little sister! You are too strong for me!”
“Faro, they’re coming! They’re OK! We’re going to see them!”
The wave of relief is so powerful that I feel as if I’ve been lifted out of myself. I grab Faro tight, hug him and start a clumsy underwater jig. But you can’t dance a jig in Ingo – the water won’t let you.
“Quick, let’s swim to them, Faro. Which way are they coming? From the south?”
“No, we must stay here. Calm down. My sister knows where we are now. I have made a picture for her in my mind and I will send her a stream of thought until we are close enough to join hands. If we move we could confuse her. Be patient, there’s only a little time to wait.”
I am no good at being patient. My heart pounds. Staying still is torture.
“We’ll see them soon,” says Faro. Even though he’s been telling me to be calm and patient, his tail lashes with tension as he strains forward, peering into the green depths.
I start to count, but when I get into the high hundreds the numbers blur and dazzle in my head. “Seven hundred and seventy-seven … seven hundred and seventy-nine …”
Faro’s face is drawn with concentration. “She is coming … they are coming slowly, Sapphire, they are very tired … they are closer now …”
At long last, a speck appears and then another. A few seconds later, the specks have grown into moving, wavering shapes that might be …
“It’s them!”
We shoot forward. An explosion of bubbles hits my face as Faro powers his way through the water faster than I could ever
swim. I plunge after him. Faro swerves sideways, and I see them at last. Conor lifts a hand on greeting, slowly and wearily. He and Elvira are hardly swimming at all now as we rush towards them, and then with one last stroke I’m in my brother’s arms. The force of my stroke pushes him backwards.
“Whoa, Saph, don’t knock me over—”
He sounds just the same as ever. He feels just the same as ever, real and solid. I pull back and put my arms on his shoulders so I can see him properly. He’s pale and there’s a bruise on his forehead, but he’s smiling. And there’s Elvira, smiling too.
Something completely unexpected happens inside me. Instead of joy and relief, I feel overwhelming anger. It’s the sight of my brother and Elvira together, looking so … so normal. So composed. How can they look like that when I’ve been desperate, thinking they were dead, fearing that I’d never see Conor again?
“Where have you been?” I demand furiously. “We thought you were dead. Why didn’t you stay close like we said?”
The smile vanishes from Conor’s face. “Calm down, Saph,” he says coolly. This is the last straw. I pummel his chest with my fists.
“I thought – I thought you were – dead!” I gasp out. “And you’re just – grinning!”
Conor’s expression changes. “Hey, Saph, I’m all right. Come on, you eejit, take it easy.”
“You’re the bloody eejits, you and Elvira, scaring everybody to death, making us think you were dead.”
Conor frowns, as if he’s just woken up and is trying to remember a dream. “Did you really think we were dead?”
“What else were we supposed to think?”
“Anyway, it’s great to see you, sis, even if you do beat me up the minute I get close enough.”
The storm inside me dies away. Conor’s back, my own brother. Alive, solid, real. Nothing else matters. I become aware of Faro and Elvira clasping hands and looking at us.