“Welcome, Universal Companion, welcome to my temporary home,” he said, shaking her hand in his powerful grip.
Connie was a little surprised that, on touching his cool black hand, she sensed nothing from him now, not like the first time they had met.
“Follow me,” Gard said with amusement in his voice as if he, at least, could read her thoughts and was laughing at her wonder, “and you will then learn how to encounter a rock dwarf. We are not so easily read as others you have met.”
Gard led Connie back to the quarry where she had been the day before. Climbing down a different part of the cliff face, they came upon a log-shelter hidden among the trees, where two other rock dwarfs were sorting through piles of stones, tapping some with a silver hammer, chipping at others with a chisel. To one side, Connie noticed Frederick Cony asleep in a deckchair, wrapped in a blanket, a hat pulled low over his eyes.
Gard sat down in front of a pile of copper-colored rocks and gestured to her to sit opposite him.
“Now, let us work,” he said, handing her some tools.
Connie picked up a hammer and chisel and began to copy him. To begin with, she felt very awkward at the task and could not see what she was supposed to achieve.
“What are we doing?” she asked after ten fruitless minutes had passed of tapping on the rocks in her lap.
Gard grunted. “If you mean, ‘What is this for?’ then the answer is that we are sorting out some rocks for the dragons. Your friend Dr. Brock has something up his sleeve for the annual meeting of the Society. If you mean, ‘Why are we doing this together?’ then the answer is inside you, if you seek it out.”
Connie sighed and applied herself again to her task. As she entered into the monotonous repetition of lift, tap, place, lift, tap, place, her mind began to wander. She became aware of the grass under her, the earth pressing against her feet, the immensity of the globe of rock extending for miles and miles beneath her. It was then she sensed something else; there was someone else present in her thoughts, sharing the same patch of ground, tapping on the same rocks. She looked up and saw that Gard was watching her carefully.
“So you have found me at last, Companion,” he said. “It is not through the touch of flesh that one encounters an elemental, but through the materials that make us both, through the earth that sustains and nurtures us. Listen again.”
Connie closed her eyes and tried to recapture the sense of his presence she had briefly held. In the darkness, she heard a whispering; it grew louder as she concentrated her mind on Gard’s rockiness, his earthiness. Entering into the thoughts uppermost in the rock dwarf’s mind, she sensed many layers underneath, as if he contained aeons of historical time and had seen seas cover land and retreat, watched glaciers freeze and melt, each leaving their trace within him. His first thoughts were for her at the moment: he was wondering about her abilities, remembering those universals he had met in the past. She sensed that Gard’s memories stretched back to ages beyond humans, to the very birth of the planet, but yet he did not seem ancient like Morjik; time for Gard was not endless years strung together like pearls on a necklace, but an eternal moment.
Going deeper, she found the next layer of preoccupations concerned one she had been trying to forget: Kullervo.
“You thought I was here only for you.” Gard chuckled. “Indeed, you are partly right, as you are bound up with our thinking about this dark spirit of malevolence. What is he planning?”
The next layer down, Gard was deeply saddened by the frailty of Frederick Cony. Memories of Frederick as a young man, striding mountainsides with Gard, energetic and indomitable, entwined with images of the elderly man, sleepy and tired.
He is passing away, Gard was thinking, like many others before him, his body will remain a memory in the earth, but his spirit—where will that be? Connie’s eyes pricked with tears as she understood the desolation Gard felt when he saw his human companions disappear beyond his knowledge into the death he would never know. The tears fell down her cheeks, leaving salty trails.
“That is enough, Universal,” Gard said in a voice like the whisper of sand.
Connie knew there were many more strata to be explored, stranger and richer, and she longed to linger.
“Another time, Universal,” Gard answered her thought. “You have learned enough for today. Now you know how we rock dwarfs can always sense you as long as you are standing on the earth; and, as you gain in skill, you too will be able to find us, even if we are on the other side of the world, or deep in its belly.”
Connie opened her eyes and found that she had completed a pile of rocks without even being aware.
“Give those to Dr. Brock,” he said. “Tell him they are a present from us both to help him make a stir at the parade.”
Connie sat by the cars watching the Society members packing up for the day. Her thoughts circled back to Gull-wing and her sisters as they so often did. It was silly that she, the universal, was being stopped from seeing them. They were no threat to her. They needed someone to persuade them to listen to what the Society had to say. She’d only had one brief go at talking them around. She just had to get back out to see them.
Looking over to her aunt’s VW, she saw that Evelyn was chatting to Mack as he stowed his diving equipment in the front trunk. For once, Evelyn wasn’t watching her niece.
If only I could get away from everyone, thought Connie, then I could go and see the sirens.
But if she was going to do this, she would need some help. Even if they were not the best of friends at the moment, surely Col would see past this when he understood the need?
“Col, can I help?” Connie found Col in the stables. Whistling cheerfully, he nodded without looking at her and hefted the saddle off Mags’s back. She picked up the currycomb. “I’ve got something to ask you.”
Col looked up. “What?”
Taking refuge in grooming Mags’s coat, she braced herself to make her request.
“I want to go and see the sirens. You see, I left so abruptly that I don’t know if they’ll keep their promise not to strike again. I’ve got to go and reassure them that we’ll help them.” Col said nothing, but Connie could feel that his eyes were on her. “But I can’t get there unless someone takes me—unless you take me.”
“Why not ask your aunt—she has a boat, too,” said Col in a measured tone.
Connie twisted her fingers in a lock of the horse’s mane. “I don’t think she’d take me,” she said quietly.
“Then I won’t either, Connie.” He hated turning her down. He must sound like a real coward to her.
“But, Col, it’s a matter of life and death—not just some silly whim of mine!”
Col sighed. What could he say without saying too much?
“Don’t you think they might have a very good reason for keeping you away from the sirens at the moment? Maybe, just maybe, you don’t know everything that’s going on?”
Connie could feel herself getting angry. The horse began to shift his hooves restlessly in sympathy. Her tone was bitter when she replied: “But if people aren’t telling me everything, how am I supposed to make the right decision? From where I’m standing, it seems pretty clear-cut: more men will die unless I do something about it!”
“I’m sorry, Connie,”—and he really did sound sorry—“I can’t take you to the sirens.”
Throwing the currycomb in a bucket, Connie left the stable, her slight figure fading quickly into the gathering twilight. Col laid his head on Mags’s neck and breathed in deeply. Mags twittered in response.
“Don’t you start,” said Col to the horse. “What else could I do? If she goes near the sirens with Kullervo hiding out there, there’d be much more than a few human lives at stake.”
The horse snorted.
“I’m not treating those deaths as if they didn’t matter!” Col replied. “Do you think I like standing by, waiting for the next attack, any more than Connie does?”
The horse nudged him toward the door.
/> “You want me to go and apologize? Well, think again. Connie’s hardly going to listen to me today after what I’ve just said. No, that has to wait.”
But Mags had other things on his mind besides apologies. The universal must not be left alone. His master was acting like a stubborn mule neglecting his duty.
“Things were all right until she came along,” said Col irritably. “Now look at us: you’re mad at me, I’m feeling terrible, and they still expect me to protect her from the most dangerous creature known to the Society.”
Mags shook his mane.
“I know it’s not her fault,” Col relented. “But I just wish...” This was stupid. He took Mags by the halter to lead him to the horse trailer. “Come on, boy, let’s just get on with what we’ve got to do.”
The next day at break Connie found Anneena sitting on a broken swing in the corner of the playground. Jane was standing in front of her, talking animatedly. She swung around to Connie when she heard her approaching.
“Tell her, Connie!” Jane exclaimed in relief, sounding as if her friend had come to her aid just in time. “Tell her she can’t!”
“Can’t what?” asked Connie, leaning against the frame of the swing as her eyes sought out Col playing soccer with the boys. She had noticed that he had looked over at her a couple of times as she walked alone across the asphalt, but he had turned away when he saw that she had seen him.
“She can’t go to the docks to try and get proof. It’s too risky.”
“Proof of what?” Connie asked, not yet understanding what all this was about, her mind still on Col.
“I’m going to see if I can find out why all these men disappeared,” said Anneena stubbornly. “Something must link them. It’s like Col said, Jane: it’s bound to be a broken machine or something. People just don’t keep falling into the sea by chance.”
“Col said?” marvelled Connie. “But I thought you’re not talking to him?”
“I’m not. But this is work—that’s different. He was over here just before you came out. He said his dad had told him the other day that Axoil has a bad name all over the world for safety.”
“But you can’t just go marching onto the docks: the whole area’s fenced off,” Jane said reasonably.
But Anneena was not in a mood for being reasonable.
“I’ll go on Saturday evening; it’s pretty quiet on the weekend. I’m sure I can talk my way in or slip in unnoticed.”
Connie understood now why Jane was so concerned. What was Col playing at, getting Anneena all steamed up like this? Surely his dad hadn’t really said that about Axoil?
“You’re crazy. What if you get caught?” asked Jane.
“I won’t get caught.”
Jane was almost tearing her hair out in frustration at her friend’s obstinacy. “But what exactly do you think you can find out?”
“Something is happening to those men and happening to them at work. If I can find any proof, then Axoil will have to take action. They might even be closed. We can’t let them get away with pretending that none of this is their concern.”
“Does Rupa know what you’re planning?” Connie asked with horrified curiosity. She couldn’t imagine Rupa allowing her little sister to put herself in danger even for the story of her career.
“Of course not,” Anneena said, as if the question was preposterous. “She’d try to stop me if she knew.”
“You should listen to her,” said Jane. Anneena glared, unmoved from her determination.
Connie silently cursed Col.
“Anneena, you mustn’t go. You can’t do anything. Promise us you won’t.”
Anneena looked shifty. “I’ll think about it.”
“Promise!” urged Jane.
“Well, if you won’t come with me...”
“We won’t,” said Connie firmly.
“Then I suppose I’d better not go on my own.”
Connie glanced over at Jane, coming to a tacit understanding. This was as near to a promise as they were going to get from Anneena. They had just better make sure they kept a close eye on her from now on.
15
Arran
Evelyn came into the kitchen, throwing her keys onto the table along with the mail.
“Any plans for the weekend, Connie?” she asked casually, watching her niece out of the corner of her eye as she waited for the answer.
“I’m going to Chartmouth with Jessica and Arran to learn to swim with the selkies,” Connie said, picking out a postcard from her brother from among the pile of brown envelopes. He’d sent her a picture of a Cambodian pit viper: he was a collector of gruesome facts about poisonous snakes—not a taste she shared.
“Good. Jessica’s a sensible girl. She’ll look after you. How’re you getting there?”
“Bus,” said Connie, again wondering why her aunt was so eager to know every little detail of her movements.
“Okay,” said Evelyn. “What time’ll you be back?”
“About six, six thirty at the latest.” Connie glanced up at the clock; she had better run. “If that’s okay with you, that is?” She pulled on her coat and slipped some money into the pocket of her jeans.
Evelyn nodded. “Make sure you stay together. Phone if you run into any trouble.”
“I will!” called Connie as she slammed the back door behind her.
Connie spotted Jessica leaning on the arm of a tall boy dressed in close-fitting dark-brown clothes; the selkie and his companion were waiting for her at the bus stop outside the lifeboat station. She got up from her seat to get off.
Arran turned first, having sensed the universal’s approach. Connie came to a sudden stop on the top step of the bus. She felt she had just been hit in the chest by the slap of a cold wave.
Hello, Universal, came Arran’s voice in her head.
Connie gasped for breath as if coming up for air after a long dive. Jessica hit Arran on the arm, to get him to stop whatever it was he was doing to the universal, and his presence was gone from Connie’s mind as suddenly as if he had bobbed back under the surface. Someone nudged her impatiently in the back and she jumped down from the bus, steadying herself to be ready for a more conventional introduction.
“Hi!” Arran’s spoken greeting sounded almost a bark. “Sorry about that. Couldn’t resist.”
“This is Arran, Connie, as if you couldn’t guess,” said Jessica, gesturing proudly at her companion. “A selkie from the family of the common seal.”
Connie looked into Arran’s face and could not help but smile back into his soulful dark eyes. He had the longest lashes of any person Connie had ever seen—but then, he wasn’t a person, she reminded herself. His thick brown hair was swept back from his forehead: it shimmered as if slightly oiled. He was undeniably handsome. Studying him, she had the sensation she had plunged beneath the surface once more and was now swimming with him in the eddying currents of a seal’s life. Her skin was tingling with liquid energy. She could feel how it was for him, how he was eager to be back in the sea, slicing through water, leaving only a trail of bubbles in his wake, on the track of a silver herring winking in and out of the weed. To him, the pavement was as awesome as a rough sea to a man: a place of danger where he was clumsy and slow. Arran was itching to take her into his world, to kick off the disadvantages that hampered him on land and show her the element of which he was a master.
“Connie, are you listening to me?” Jessica asked her, giving her a shake. “Ouch! You stung me!”
“What?” asked Connie in confusion. “Oh, sorry. It’s the static—it happens sometimes when I encounter others.”
Jessica shook her hand in the air to ease the smarting pain. “I suppose you were taking a dip. I was talking to you but you were miles away.”
“Er...sorry,” said Connie weakly. “What were you saying?”
“I was saying,” said Jessica, with a tolerant smile, “that we should go to the beach at the end of Milsom Street. It’s more than a bit murky, being too near the docks to att
ract visitors, but fine for our purposes.”
“Okay. Good plan,” Connie said.
“Come on then. What are we waiting for? It’s getting dark already. We’ll lose our chance to swim if we hang around like this.”
Jessica set off at a brisk pace, heading south.
“Come on, Universal,” said Arran in his bark-like voice. “You heard her. Let’s go before I get you into any more trouble!”
He held out his hand. His fingers were long, particularly the index, and tapered together into a point like a flipper. Hesitating for a second, Connie took it. The returning tide of his presence washed up her arm and filled her with frothing delight. She gave a bark of laughter, which he joined in. A passing couple walking their dog turned to look at the pair in astonishment.
“Hurry—before we attract any more attention,” said Arran, pulling on Connie’s arm.
They set off together after Jessica, reeling in a strange shuffling gait along the pavement. One of the dog-walkers turned to the other and whispered something that sounded very much like “drunk at their age—how shocking!”
“Stop it!” Connie laughed, dragging him around the corner and out of sight of their audience.
Jessica was waiting for them. They were at the end of the residential streets, making for the no-man’s-land beyond Milsom Street, where the vacation cottages gave way to industrial units and an abandoned gas station. “Arran,” she chided, “we’ll never make it unless you remember you’ve got legs at the moment.”
After a few more strides, Arran found his land-legs and they began to make swifter progress.
“It is a real honor to encounter you, Universal,” he said humbly as they approached the beach.
“The honor’s mine,” Connie said with all honesty. What was she compared to him, a changeling and marvel of the sea?
“You are a unique creature,” continued Arran. “I sense the sea in you. Do others find their own element when they bond with you?”
“I don’t know. I hope so.”
When they reached the shoreline, Connie gave an involuntary shudder. A once wild part of the coast had been tamed under man’s yoke. Twisted steel girders writhed out of broken concrete sea defenses like amputated limbs showing rusting bones. The shingle was fouled with litter—plastic bags, cans, an old shoe.