Tide Knot

  “What for, Conor?”

  “Is that window big enough for you to climb out?”

  “Yes, I—”

  “Climb out quick. We’ll catch you.”

  “But—”

  “Don’t be afraid, little sister,” says Faro’s teasing voice.

  “I’m not afraid,” I whisper angrily. “I just want to know what’s going on.” I glance behind me again. Mum, Rainbow, and Sadie are sunk so deep in sleep that even if I went over and shook them, I don’t believe they’d wake.

  “Quick, Saph!” Conor urges me. “Saldowr has called us. He wants us to come. He needs our help.”

  “Saldowr!”

  “Yes,” says Faro quietly, and now there’s no teasing in his voice. I look down at them. With their wet hair slicked back, their faces are strangely similar. “It’s the first time I’ve known Saldowr to ask for help,” Faro goes on. “He has called you both to the Tide Knot and asked me to be your companion on the journey. You must hurry.”

  How far below me is the water? About three meters, maybe less. If I climb out of the window feetfirst and then twist round when I’m sitting on the sill, I’ll be able to lower myself from the ledge and drop into the water. It won’t make too big a splash, and Conor and Faro are there waiting. They won’t let the flood sweep me away.

  But is it really Ingo down there? It looks so dark, so unfriendly. Not like the sea I know so well. It’s as if Ingo changed her nature when she broke her bounds. But I’ve got no choice. I can’t wait for Roger and the inflatable to rescue me if Saldowr has called us.

  Mum, will you be all right? You’ll be terrified again when you wake up and find I’m not there. And poor Sadie will run up and down the loft, barking frantically. She’ll know where I’ve gone. But I can’t do anything about that. I’m not abandoning you, my darling Sadie; I’m trying to help us all. Please stay asleep, and then you won’t be frightened. Mum, don’t be afraid. Nothing bad is going to happen to me and Conor. We have to go; we’ve got no choice. Sadie and Rainbow will look after you.

  Once I’m down in the water with Conor and Faro, there’s no time for talk. It’s too dangerous. Just by our house the water is relatively calm, but as soon as we swim away, there are swirls and currents and eddies and whirlpools that want to buffet us against buildings and drag us into doorways and trap us inside houses. It takes all my strength to swim against the flow of the water. Faro dives, but Conor and I swim on the surface, our mouths just above the water. I’m not sure if I dare dive. Is this Ingo or not Ingo? Is it an enemy or a friend? At the moment it looks more like an enemy. It has swept into town and conquered.

  A cat floats by on an upturned table, its back arched, its wet fur flattened against its body.

  “Oh, Conor, look at the cat! Can’t we rescue it?”

  “No,” says Conor shortly.

  I’ve never known moonlight as strong as this. It makes everything look as unearthly as a dream, but the pitiful yowling of the cat is all too real. It stares back at us while the flood carries it away, as if asking why we don’t help it.

  Conor and I swim close together. I’m afraid to lose him in this mess of debris. I’ve never tried to swim through water like this. It carries a swirling mass of rubbish: furniture, traffic cones, apples, diapers, plastic bags, sodden plants and flowers. In the distance we see a car, half full of water, spinning slowly round on the current. At that moment Faro surfaces by my side. “Dive!” he says urgently. “That car’s going to hit us—”

  There’s no choice. The three of us plunge into the murk and swim down as deep as we can. We flip onto our backs and watch the car pass overhead like a shark, outlined in moonlight.

  “Swim away!” says Faro sharply.

  Things are happening too fast. Houses loom to the right and the left, windows gaping like eyes. Where are all the people? What has happened to them? This is like the drowned island Faro took me to. I never guessed that the same thing could happen here in St. Pirans. The water pushes against us like a giant hand as we try to swim around the corner of the street.

  “Dive deeper,” says Faro. His voice is tense. “We’ve got to go deeper; then we’ll be under the current.”

  We swim down. The current weakens, but just as I think we’re out of its power, it grabs me, tears me away from the others, and slams me savagely against a granite wall. The pain is so fierce that I scream, and Conor seizes my hand as we are swept into a backwater beside the sea-wall. There’s no current here.

  “You all right, Saph?”

  I can’t speak. They are on either side of me, holding me up.

  “Are you okay, Saph? Saph, say something!”

  I make a huge effort and pull myself together. “’M all right. Hurt my leg.”

  “I can’t see—is it bleeding?”

  “Think so.”

  “Is it broken?”

  Cautiously I move my leg. It hurts, but not in the way I think a broken leg would hurt.

  “Do you want to go back?” asks Conor.

  “Saldowr told me to fetch both of you. This is no time for weakness,” interrupts Faro. Tears rush to my eyes, partly because of the pain but mostly because of what Faro’s just said.

  “I’m not weak.”

  “He knows you’re not,” says Conor, and gives my hand a squeeze. “Everyone knows you’re tough, Saph. But can you still swim? It’s a long journey.”

  “’M okay.”

  “Sure?”

  I think of Mum and Sadie and Rainbow, sleeping as the water rises. Is Roger there by now? And all the other people whose houses are being swallowed one by one…Can Saldowr really help them? Can the tides ever return to their knot, so that the water will stop rising and drowning more and more homes? Compared with that, nothing else matters. I can swim.

  “Hold her wrist, Faro,” says Conor. “I’ll swim on her other side.”

  “But you won’t—you won’t be able to breathe, Con, unless Faro’s helping you.”

  “Don’t worry about me. This isn’t too bad. Not like being deep in Ingo. More like—half-and-half—half Air, half Ingo.”

  It’s wonderful to have them there, so close, one at each side of me like bodyguards against the flood. Suddenly I know where I am. We’re close to where the cottages look out over the slipway and the beach. Rainbow’s home is near here. All these cottages are completely underwater now. Even their chimneys are covered. They loom dimly through the water.

  We swim low, grazing the road. I put my hand down and feel tarmac. It’s almost impossible to see through this water now. It’s so filthy and full of rubbish. Trying to draw oxygen through it is like trying to breathe in a garage with the car engine belching out exhaust. I can’t believe that Conor thinks this is easier than breathing deep in Ingo.

  This is what it must be like to be a seabird when there’s an oil leak. This is what it must be like to be a fish gasping in water that’s full of chemicals. This is what it must be like to be a dolphin thrashing in a tuna net.

  “Hold on,” says Faro in my ear.

  Suddenly the color of what is beneath us changes. It’s not tarmac anymore. It’s white sand, glinting in reflected moonlight. The water grows wilder, but cleaner. We’re in the sea, the real sea at last. This is true Ingo, not the robber Ingo that has stolen our town. Hope floods into me. Maybe Ingo is still herself, after all. That means that our world can return to itself too.

  “Look out!” yells Conor, dragging me sideways. An ice-cream van rears up a few meters away, lunging toward us. It misses us by less than an arm’s length, as we dive for the sand.

  “Usually I’m happy to see an ice-cream van,” says Conor, once we’ve recovered a little, “but I’m not in the mood today.”

  “Conor, you’ve got to hold on to Faro. This is true Ingo now.”

  “I know,” says Conor. “Can you manage without me, Saph?”

  “I think so.”

  I want to look at my leg and my side, but it’s too dark down here. The moon gives only a fain
t glimmer of light. I think my leg is bleeding, maybe bleeding heavily. I feel strange, as if my body doesn’t belong to me. I wish I didn’t feel so dizzy. Don’t be stupid, Sapphire; you are safe in Ingo. Ingo, remember?

  I feel sick too. But how can anyone be sick underwater? I’m not going to tell Faro or Conor. Faro will think I’m weak, and anyway, it’s much too late to go back. And if Conor thinks I’m struggling, he’ll try to swim on my other side to support me, and that will mean he can’t hold on to Faro…and then he won’t get enough oxygen…and then…it’s too much to think about. It’s making me even dizzier.

  “Can you get us to Saldowr, Faro?” Conor asks. “Do you know the current we should take?”

  “I hope so.” I’ve never heard Faro sound so unsure, even fearful. “But tonight…Ingo doesn’t feel as she should. The currents have become strangers. The loosening of the Tide Knot has changed everything.”

  “I thought it was going to be so wonderful when Ingo grew strong and we humans grew weak,” observes Conor coldly. But this time Faro doesn’t reply. I haven’t got enough energy to think of talking. I’m not even really swimming anymore. I’m still moving my arms and kicking the leg that isn’t injured, but there’s no power in my strokes.

  “We need my sister,” says Faro abruptly. He stops swimming. Conor treads water, Faro balances on his tail, and I hang there, limp, wondering vaguely if I’ll ever be able to move again. The sea booms in my ears like underwater thunder.

  “Elvira?” Even through a fog of pain and weariness, I hear the change in Conor’s voice. He can’t hide his eagerness.

  “Yes. My sister will help yours. Elvira is a healer—that is, one day she will be a healer. She has a gift.”

  “Can you call her?”

  “I’ve been trying to find her with my mind ever since Sapphire was hurt. But the message from Saldowr is so powerful that all I can hear is his voice, telling me to come quickly and to bring you both with me. It leaves no space for me to call Elvira. But Sapphire needs her help.”

  “Could I…” I mumble, meaning could I call Elvira.

  “No. Save your strength. But Conor, maybe you could? Can you speak to my sister? Can you ask her to come to us?”

  “How?”

  “Show her what is in your mind. Show her that Sapphire is injured. Show her that you want her to come here.”

  That shouldn’t be too difficult for Conor, I think, with a feeble inner giggle.

  “But I don’t know how,” says Conor. “I’m not like you and Sapphire. I’ve never been able to—to share my thoughts.”

  “Just try,” says Faro impatiently. “Think of Elvira. Come close to her in your mind. Call her to you. Once you feel that she is listening, show her our predicament. Show her that Sapphire is hurt and that we need her to be healed so that we can get to Saldowr. She’ll come if you can get the message to her. Even if Elvira were at the bottom of the world where the ice mountains live, she would come to my help.”

  “I’ll try,” says Conor.

  A long time passes, or at least it feels like a long time. Conor is concentrating desperately, struggling to reach Elvira. I wish I could help him, but a foggy curtain of exhaustion hangs between me and the others. Maybe we’ll never get to Saldowr. Maybe the water will just keep on rising and rising until it gets to the top of the highest hills in Cornwall. The water is so powerful, and I feel so weak….

  “Sapphire. Sapphire.”

  “What is it, Faro? ’M just having a rest—”

  “You’re falling asleep. Wake up, Sapphire! Elvira’s on her way. She’ll be here soon.”

  And then Conor’s voice too, full of relief. “I reached her, Saph! I did it! I kept trying and trying, and it wouldn’t work, and then I just sort of let my mind empty, and then I thought about her, and she was there.”

  “Fantastic, Conor.”

  “Hold on, Saph. She’ll be here as soon as she can.”

  It seems a long time before Elvira comes. I keep drifting in and out of a dream. I want to stay in my dream, but Conor and Faro won’t let me. They keep waking me up.

  “Whassamaaer, Con…’m only sleeping—”

  “Wake up, Saph. Wake up!”

  And then the dream breaks. Elvira’s here, breathless.

  “I came on the fastest current I could find. Is she still with us?”

  “Yes.”

  “I wish we had more light. I can’t see what’s wrong.”

  “We’ll bring her closer to the surface. Is the moon still strong?”

  “The strongest I’ve ever seen,” says Elvira.

  When Faro said Elvira was going to be a healer, I thought he meant she wanted to be a doctor one day. I expected her to have some kind of Mer first-aid kit with her. But she hasn’t got anything. Only her hands. As soon as she touches me, I understand what Faro meant. Elvira’s hands have got healing in them. I couldn’t have let anyone else touch my leg, but Elvira’s hands don’t hurt. She frowns.

  “She’s got a bad gash, look, there. It’s still bleeding; that’s why she’s weak. And she’s terribly bruised. Oh, Faro, I have no experience of human flesh and blood. I’m afraid of doing the wrong thing.”

  “You won’t,” says Conor, gazing at Elvira.

  I catch Faro’s eye, and he winks. “It’s true that you’re only beginning your training,” he says in a patronizing voice that has an instant effect on Elvira.

  “I’ll do what I can,” she says. Her long dark hair swirls around us like a cloud, making a private world where she and I are alone. She puts the heel of one hand on the cut and presses down with the other. “Look into my mind, Sapphire,” she says very quietly so that no one else can hear. I obey. It’s easy to look into Elvira’s mind. It’s as if her mind is a mirror, showing me myself. Look, there’s the wound on my leg. But it’s not bleeding anymore. It’s healing. The edges of the wound are drawing together. The bruises are fading.

  “Look,” says Elvira again, “look deep.”

  I concentrate as hard as I can. I’m not afraid anymore. It’s a cut, that’s all. It’s not so terrible, and I’m certainly not going to die from it. Elvira’s healing flows into me, like warmth from a fire. I’m not dizzy now. I don’t feel as if I’m slipping away into a dream place. My leg still hurts, but not in the same way.

  “There,” says Elvira at last, “that’s as much as I can do for now. You’ll need to see another healer, Sapphire, to stitch your leg, but I think you have enough strength to reach Saldowr.”

  “Will you come with us?”

  “Yes.”

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  The Groves of Aleph look as if a hurricane has torn through them. Great underwater trees lie uprooted. Boulders are scattered, the white sand piled into heaps. We force our way through a dense mat of weed that has been ripped off the ocean floor. All the colors are dim and muddied. This place was so beautiful, and now it looks as if it’s dying. It’s as much a scene of devastation as St. Pirans.

  At least the sharks have gone. I was so afraid as the current swept us close to the Groves. Saldowr promised that the sharks would know us again, and we would be protected, but I’ve heard too many stories about sharks scenting blood from miles away and homing in on their victim. I was afraid they’d attack me because of the wound on my leg. I could tell that the others were afraid too, because they closed tight around me.

  We needn’t have worried. There is no sign of a living creature as we drop off the current and swim down to where Saldowr keeps the Tide Knot. Everything is eerily still. The water itself looks lifeless. Dawn is coming up, but it’s a gray, cold dawn that filters drearily down through the water.

  We’re not even sure that we’re close to Saldowr’s cave. The whole seascape has changed. Even Faro, who spent so long inside the cave for his healing, isn’t sure where it is. Boulders are almost buried in sand, as if there’s been an underwater whirlwind. The same whirlwind has exposed a long line of fanged black rocks. They look as if they want to reach out and rip us to
pieces.

  “Where is Saldowr, Faro? Can you still hear him in your mind?”

  Faro frowns. “He’s close. He knows we’re here. Wait.”

  And then we see him. He must have been there all the time, watching us. He’s in the shadow of the one remaining tree, wrapped in his cloak, as if a freezing wind had blown over him.

  “Saldowr!”

  “Yes,” he answers, swimming forward slowly, as if movement is an effort. “It was I who called you. But you know that. Perhaps I was wrong to do so, but I had no choice.”

  I look at him and think at first that his power is broken, but then I look into his eyes and realize that isn’t true. His power is still there, but it has sunk deep inside him. His beautiful cloak is ragged, as if some animal had torn the cloth with its teeth. Saldowr has dark bruises of exhaustion under his eyes. “The tides destroyed everything in freeing themselves,” he says. “I was fortunate. I survived.”

  “Are all the sharks dead?” I ask quickly.

  “The tides took them. Whether they are alive or no, who can say? They would not turn from their duty. They refused to flee, even when I told them I could no longer hold the Tide Knot.”

  Conor and I glance at each other. We can’t feel as sorry as Saldowr about the sharks’ absence.

  “What—what happened to the Tide Knot?”

  “See for yourselves.”

  He swims a little way, and we follow him. He halts and points into the distance. “Faro, do you see my cave?”

  There’s no cave left. Its mouth is stuffed with sand. Even the smallest fish wouldn’t be able to wriggle inside. Still, if that’s Saldowr’s cave, then somewhere close, on the seabed, is the Tide Mouth.

  “You are right,” says Saldowr, as if he’s reading my thoughts. “The Tide Mouth is still here, even though the tides have gone. Come.”

  Conor and Elvira are on one side of Saldowr, and Faro and I on the other. Saldowr dives to the seabed, as he did before. Sand swirls around us, clouding the water. But this time there’s no heavy stone for him to lift. Only an open, gaping mouth. The Tide Mouth. There’s no blue light, no sinuous, coiling tides, flexing and turning, flashing like jewels. The Tide Mouth is empty. The tides have gone.