The Tail of Emily Windsnap - Liz Kessler [19]
“Come on.” Shona led the way. Long thin fish silently skirted the walls and ceiling. Portholes lined the corridor on our left; doors with paint peeling and cracking all the way down faced them on our right. We tried every one.
“They’re all locked,” Shona said, wiggling another rotting doorknob and pushing her weight against another stubborn door. Then she raced ahead to the end of the corridor and disappeared. I followed her around the corner. Right in front of our eyes, a white door seemed to be challenging us. It was bigger than the others, shining and glowing, its round brass handle begging to be turned. A big, fat, beady-eyed fish hovered in front of it like a goalie. Shona tossed her head as she leaned forward to try the handle, her hair flowing out in the water. The fish darted away.
The door swung open.
“Swishing heck!” she breathed.
I joined her in the doorway. “Wow!” Bubbles danced out of my mouth as I stared.
It was the grandest room I’d ever seen — and the biggest! Easily as big as a tennis court. At one end, a carpet made out of maroon weeds swayed gently with the sea’s rhythm. At the other end was a hard white floor.
“Pearl,” Shona said, gliding across its shiny surface.
I swam into a corner and circled one of the golden pillars shining bright light across the room. With every movement, rainbow colors flickered around the walls and ceiling. Bright blue-and-yellow fish danced in the light.
Below huge round windows, benches with velvet seats and high wooden backs lined the walls, large iron tables dotted about in front of them. I picked up a goblet from one of the tables. Golden and heavy, its base was a long skirt, the cup a deep well waiting to be filled with magic.
Above us, a shoal of fish writhed and spun along the yellow ceiling. The ceiling!
“Shona, what’s the ceiling made out of?”
She swam up to its surface. “Amber, by the looks of it.”
I backed quickly toward the door, flicking my tail as hard as I could. A ceiling of amber, a pavement of pearl. No! It couldn’t be! It was impossible!
But I couldn’t brush away the truth this time.
It was the boat from Mom’s dream.
“Shona, we’ve got to get out of here!” I pulled at her hand. My fingers shook.
“But don’t you want to —”
“We have to get away!”
“What is it?”
“I don’t know. Something’s not right. Please, Shona.”
She looked at my face, and for a moment I saw shock — or recognition. “Come on,” she said.
We didn’t speak as we slithered back down the narrow corridor in silence, Shona following as I raced ahead. I swam in such a panic that I went straight past the broken porthole and almost all the way to the other end of the boat! I turned and was about to start swimming back when Shona tugged at my arm.
“Look,” she said, pointing at the floor.
“What?”
“Can’t you see?”
I looked closer and noticed a shiny section of wood, newer than the other floorboards, the size of a manhole. It had a handle on it shaped like a giant pair of pliers.
Shona pulled at the trapdoor. “Give me a hand.”
“Shona, I’ve got a really weird feeling about all this. We really have to —”
“Just a quick look. Please. Then we’ll go — I promise.”
Reluctantly, I pulled at the handle with her, flipping my tail to propel myself backward. Seconds later, it creaked open. A swarm of tiny fish darted out from the gap, shimmering in a flash of silver before disappearing down the corridor.
Shona flipped herself upside down and poked her head into the hole, swishing her tail in my face. “What can you see?” I asked.
“It’s a tunnel!” Shona flipped back up and grabbed my hand. “Have a look.”
“But you said we could —”
“Five minutes.” And she disappeared down the hole.
As soon as we got into the tunnel, the golden light virtually disappeared. Just tiny rays peeping through the odd crack. We felt our way along the sides — which wasn’t exactly pleasant. Slimy, rubbery things lined the walls. I decided not to think about what they