Emily Windsnap and the Siren's Secret - Liz Kessler [55]
“Be careful, OK?” Mandy stood on the shore under the pier, biting her nails and pacing up and down along the water’s edge. The beach was almost deserted. Just a few people here and there: an elderly couple arm in arm in the distance, their faces bent close together. Someone else walking in the opposite direction, throwing sticks into the sea for his dog to chase.
“We will be,” I replied.
“And come back if you need anything.”
I smiled. “We will.”
Aaron glanced around one last time and took a step into the water. “We’d better go,” he said.
“You sure you’ve got it all in there?” I asked, tapping my head. He’d spent the last half hour studying the map and committing it to memory.
“Every symbol and every digit,” he said. I believed him. I’d never met anyone with a memory like his. All he had to do was look at information, and it was stored in his brain. Maybe that was what happened when you spent the first thirteen years of your life with nothing much to do except study a whole bunch of maps and books.
“And you’ve got the shell?”
He patted his big jacket pocket in reply. “It’ll be safe — don’t worry,” he said.
I glanced around, too, before joining him at the water’s edge. “Come on, then,” I said. “Let’s go.”
Mandy started to walk away. Then she stopped and turned. “Hey,” she called.
I looked up. “What?”
“Good luck.”
I smiled. “Thanks.”
She nodded and walked away. I looked around one last time, then dived into the water and swam away from Brightport.
“Are you sure we’re heading the right way?” We’d been swimming close to the surface so we’d see the island when we got there. But we must have been out here for at least an hour, and there was no sign of an island anywhere.
Long, deep swells lifted us up and carried us along as we scanned the horizon.
“We should be nearly there,” Aaron said, squinting into the distance. “That way. Come on.”
He dived back under the surface, and I followed him.
Moments later, I noticed that the water was changing. The dark rocks below us were becoming more scattered. Stretches of sand started appearing in between them.
Aaron glanced back at me. I swam harder to catch up to him. “It’s getting warmer,” I said.
He nodded. “Getting shallower,” he said. “This is where the depth numbers started getting lower. We’re nearly there.”
His words spurred me on, and I kept pace with him as we swam in silence. The water grew warmer still. The dark brooding rays and sharks we’d been passing along our way were replaced by brightly colored fish darting along beside us in long rows and pointed formations like line dancers. It was as though they were escorting us. This way, this way. Nearly there. Follow our moves.
And then the water was so shallow I could see the bottom right below me. My tail brushed sand; reeds stroked my stomach as I floated across them. I stuck my head above the surface and looked around. An island!
“We’re here!” Aaron breathed as we pulled ourselves on to the shore.
I sat watching our tails slowly flap at the water’s edge, then melt away as our legs returned. “You’re sure this is the right island?”
“Positive,” Aaron said. “Come on, let’s see if we can find whatever it is we’re meant to be looking for.”
I followed him away from the shore, and we started to make our way around the island. It was long and narrow, so I could see the opposite side from where we were. The beach we’d swum up to stretched all the way along one side, from what I could see. Beyond that it was rocky, with a couple of small hills and a few trees dotted here and there. It shouldn’t take us long to get around.
Just a shame we didn’t know what we were looking for.
Half an hour later, we’d walked all the way from one end of the island to the other, and still had no idea.
Half an hour after that, we’d covered the whole coastline, the rocky hills, every tree — and still had no idea.
“This is hopeless,” I said, flopping down to sit on a rock. “There’s nothing here.”
Aaron searched around, pulling his hair away from his face, looking this