The Tail of Emily Windsnap - Liz Kessler [18]
“Come on, Emily; it must be such a romantic place!”
I thought for a second. “Okay, let’s do it — let’s go this afternoon!”
Underwater, we made our way slowly out to sea, with Shona checking her splishometer every few yards. After a while, we came up to look around. A lone line of gulls skimmed the surface. Ahead of us, other sea birds shot into the water like white arrows.
We ducked under again. Rays of sun shone in dusty beams under the water. Moments later, Shona’s splishometer beeped. “We’re getting close,” she breathed as we dove lower.
The sea life was becoming weirder. Something that looked like a peach with tentacles turned slowly around in the water, scanning its surroundings with beady black eyes. Farther down, a see-through jellyfish bounced away from us — a slow-motion space hopper. A rubbery gold crown floated silently upward. Everywhere I looked, fish that could have passed for cartoon aliens bounced and twirled and spun.
Shona grabbed my arm. “Come on,” she said, pointing ahead and swimming away again. Lower and lower, the sea grew darker and darker. As we pressed forward, something came into view. I couldn’t make out the shape, but it was surrounded by a hazy, golden light. The eerie light grew stronger as we carried on swimming toward it, and bigger. It was everywhere, all around us. We’d found it! The Voyager!
We darted along its length, tracing the row of portholes all the way from the back end to its pointy front, then swam away again to take it all in. Long and sleek, the ship lay on a tilt in the sand: still, silent, majestic.
“That is so-o-o amazing.” My words gurgled away from me like a speech bubble in a comic strip. It made me laugh, which sent more bubbles floating out of my mouth, up into the darkness.
I couldn’t stop staring at the ship. It was like something out of a film — not real life. Especially my life! It shone as if it had the sun inside it, as though it were made of gold.
Made of gold? A shipwreck made of gold? A queasy feeling clutched at my insides.
“Shona, the masts —”
“Are you okay?” Shona asked, taking a look at me.
“I need to see a mast!”
Shona pointed up into the darkness again. “Come on.”
Neither of us spoke as we skirted around the hundreds of tiny fish pecking away at the ship’s sides and swam up to the deck. Yard after yard of wooden slats: some shiny, almost new-looking; others dark and rotting. We swam upward, circling one of the masts, wrapping our tails around it like snakes slithering up a tree, my heart hammering loud and fast.
“What is it?”
“What?”
“What’s the mast made of?”
Shona moved back to examine it. “Well, it looks like marble, but that’s —”
“Marble? Are you sure?”
A golden boat with a marble mast. No!
I let go of the mast and pushed myself away, scattering a shoal of blue fish as I raced back down to the hull. I had to get away! It wasn’t right! It didn’t make sense!
“Emily, what’s wrong?” Shona was behind me.
“It’s — it’s —” What? What could I say? How could I explain this awful panic inside me? It didn’t make sense. I was being ridiculous. It couldn’t be — of course it couldn’t! I pushed the thought from my mind. Just a coincidence.
“It’s nothing,” I said, laughing off my unease. “Come on, let’s go inside!”
Shona slithered along the hull. Fish nibbled at its sides next to her. I shivered as a silky plant brushed against my arm, swaying with the motion of the sea.
“Found one!” She flapped her tail excitedly.
I slithered over to join her and found myself in front of a broken porthole.
She looked at me for a second, her bright face reflecting the boat’s light. “I’ve never had a real adventure before,” she said quietly. Then she disappeared through the empty window. I forced the fear out of my mind. Shona didn’t think there was anything to be afraid of. Then I held my arms tight against my sides, flicked the end of my tail, and followed Shona through the porthole.
We were in a narrow corridor. Bits of wallpaper dripped from the ceiling in watery stalactites, swaying with the movement