The water looked oily, dark – as smooth and muscular as an octopus. Above it, the sky crawled with clouds – the ragged remnants of the Haken’s army, moving slowly away. Nimbus was nowhere to be seen.
He probably got blown really far, she told herself. He’s probably flying back here right now. As fast as he can.
But she didn’t believe it.
An ache of loss tightened around her chest. Nimbus, where
are you?
Stella stepped outside and followed the path down to the water’s edge.
The crunch of the crushed slate underfoot was loud in the sudden stillness. The water rippled and surged forward between the rocks, setting up a chorus of greedy sucking noises. Like it had heard her . . .
“Go away!” she shouted. “You lost! Leave us alone.”
A lone wave swelled in the mouth of the bay, with a long hump on the surface, like a whale surfacing. It moved silently towards the rocks.
When it reached the shore, it didn’t break. It just heaved forward and then slithered back into the sea, in one smooth, wet motion.
When it retreated, Stella’s heart clenched.
A dark figure stood in the shallows.
The Haken!
She stared wide-eyed at the sea witch.
Still in the water, she thought. She has to stay in the water.
The Haken’s hair hung down in a dark knotted mat. It tangled with the frayed lace of stinking black seaweed that covered her body.
But it was her face that was the worst.
Slippery smooth as a squid. No nose, no lips. Even up close, it was nothing more than a pale blank, with a thin slit where her mouth should be. Only the eyes were human. They stared at Stella. Cold and black. Filled with that same gaping hunger that had haunted her nightmares.
“Apprentice.” The word came out of the Haken as a venomous hiss and the waves seemed to whisper it amongst themselves, along the shore.
Apprentisss, apprentisss, apprentisss.
Stella took a step backwards, closer to the broch. “Where’s my cloud?” she blurted.
The Haken opened her slit of a mouth in a cold-blooded smile, revealing rows of needle-sharp teeth. She raised her arm slowly and it caught the light. The skin was pallid green, etched with
fish scales.
Behind her, a thick umbilical twist of water rose slowly out of the bay. Trapped inside it was a small powder-puff of cloud.
“Nimbus?” said Stella. “Nimbus!” She ran forward a few steps, but as she did a dark wave licked towards her over the rocks and she skipped backwards.
The sea witch laughed; a wet sound, like slime gurgling in a blocked drain. “Nimbusss, Nimbusss,” she echoed, mockingly, and lowered her hand. The column of water sank back into the bay, taking Nimbus with it.
Nimbus wouldn’t last ten minutes in a sea cave, never mind years. Stella’s heart felt brittle just thinking of it. Nimbus, all alone, in the dark.
The Haken stepped up out of the water. A slick of black water slid up onto the rocks, under her feet.
“You can’t do that!” said Stella. “That’s cheating.”
She realised how stupid it sounded. Why would a sea witch follow rules?
The Haken narrowed her black eyes and a river of water poured uphill ahead of her, making a glinting, sinuous path over the grey stones towards Stella. She looked down and took another deliberate step. Her foot squelched as it touched the rock. Maybe it had suckers underneath?
Stella turned and ran.
Drown the land to come ashore, Tamar had said. This was what she meant.
Where the sea witch went, the water came too.
When Stella reached the grass by the broch, she turned and looked back.
The Haken was still coming, but slowly. She seemed to consider each step before she took it. Dark water streamed uphill, over the rocks ahead of her, onto the slate path. It was heading for the open door of the broch.
No! thought Stella. Not in there!
Grandpa and Tamar – they’d be trapped.
The Haken spread her arms wide. Behind her, the surface of the bay stopped moving, as though the water had thickened to slime. A rotten low-tide smell belched out of the shallows. A low wave folded itself over the rocks and a fat finger of water began to ooze up the short slope, like a slug.
I’ve got to stop her! thought Stella.
She looked around for anything she could use as a weapon. She should have grabbed a rock from the beach. There was nothing on the grass that looked like it would hurt the Haken.
Weather! she thought. You’re a weather weaver, aren’t you?
The black storm clouds were scattered all the way to the horizon. The hurricane must have flown far away by now, but maybe she could call it back?
She poked salty fingers into the corners of her mouth, took a deep breath and blew as hard as she could. A long shrill whistle. Loud enough to be heard on the mainland.
But the wind didn’t answer.
Joy, she thought, in horror. It needs joy.
The air remained still, heavy with the foul reek of decay.
The Haken swept her arms forward and the horrible black tongue of water grew longer, pushing stones aside with sharp cracking sounds, like breaking bones. It surged up over the rocks, onto the slate path and in through the mouth of the broch, as though to choke it.
“Grandpa!” shouted Stella.
He’d drown.
He’d drown, unless . . .
She stuffed her hand into Tamar’s bag.
She had one more jar. The yellow one. Sahara Sunshine.
The Haken was getting closer, taking one careful step after another through the dark water that flowed up the slope.
Stella pulled the stopper out and thrust the jar forwards.
The wave of heat burnt her cheeks and dried her eyeballs. Centuries-dry air. It smelled of spice and sun-baked sand.
The Haken turned towards her and hissed.
The sound made Stella’s stomach lurch, but she gritted her teeth and held the jar out in front of her like an offering.
The water in the mouth of the broch writhed like a trapped worm and began to shrink. It shrivelled in the searing heat, until it was no more than a smear of sludge on the ground.
Stella let out a shuddering sigh of relief.
Dry! she thought. Try walking on that, sea witch.
The rocks on the beach paled from black to grey.
The Haken took a step closer. As her foot touched dry rock, there was a disgusting sizzle. She looked down at the dry rocks, curled her long fingers into claws, and took another determined step.
Stella stared at her and waved the jar in desperation, but she could feel the air beginning to cool already.
The jar was empty.
She glanced at the entrance to the broch, but there was no sign of Tamar. Or Grandpa. And if she went inside too, they’d all be trapped.
I did everything right, she thought. Why?! Why is she still coming?
“What do you want?!” she said, in desperation.
The Haken raised her head. “I want . . . what isss mine,” she hissed.
“Nimbus isn’t yours,” said Stella, her voice cracking. “You stole him!”
She had nothing left. No wind. No jars. No cloud. Nothing that would stop the Haken.
Stella backed away, until her heels met the solid wall of the broch.
The sanctuary stone was singing now. Loudly. Was it loud enough to stop a sea witch? The low hum of it thrummed in her blood, and courage surged through her heart.
“There’s nothing here that belongs to you,” she said.
The song echoed her words. A riotous chorus of defiance.
Stella clenched her fists and squared her shoulders. “This place isn’t yours,” she said. “This island isn’t yours. Nothing here is yours.” She put a hand on the rough stone behind and fury swarmed through her.
“Most of all,” she said, her voice rising, “Nimbus isn’t yours!”
A pale patch of lightning bloomed under the water of the bay like a white flower, and Stella gasped.
Nimbus!
Right there. Just under the surface. And he could hear her!
“Nimbus is my cloud,” she shouted. “Mine! Not yours!”
The lightning flashed again, like a beacon, sending jagged white lines skittering across the inky swell.
The Haken bared her teeth and Stella’s blood sang with rage.
“LET MY CLOUD GO!”
A white star of pure fury exploded under the water and a dark geyser of water exploded up into the air.
The water spattered down in heavy drops. High above it, a cloud shone like a second sun in the sky.
“Nimbus!” she yelled. “Get away from the water. Now!”
As Nimbus arced towards them, the Haken raised her arms. A wave surged over the rocks and onto the grass. Stella yelped as it wrapped round her ankles, cold as death.
The Haken tilted her head to one side and pointed at Stella.
There was a sudden sharp, burning pain. She looked down at her shoulder. With a jolt of panic, Stella saw a fine black spine poking through the fabric of her yellow raincoat. Nimbus, help!
Nimbus plummeted, like a shooting star.
He hit the Haken and ignited, a furious ball of white lightning, crawling with sparks.
The Haken screamed.
Her arms crinkled and peeled like snakeskin. Scales flaked down and fizzed as they touched the dark water. The seaweed around her body started to crackle and spit, like a deep fat fryer.
Stella stumbled back against the solid curve of the broch, but she couldn’t hear the stone any more. Its song was drowned out by the terrible screams of the Haken.
Steam began to pour out of the Haken’s body, hissing into the air, until all Stella could see was the lightning, pulsing purple and blue in searing flashes.
“Stop!” she shouted. “Nimbus, stop!”
The lightning flashed once, twice, and then stopped.
A tremor started in Stella’s hands and then in her knees.
Dread – it clutched at her scalp and sent shivers down her spine. What had she done?
She swallowed hard, as the mist began to drift apart.
I have to look, she thought. I did this.
A dark shadow materialised out of the haze, and Stella’s mouth dropped open in shock.
The Haken wasn’t gone.
She still stood there on the rocks, between the broch and the sea. A pale silhouette against the dark thunder cloud that crackled just behind her.
The Haken was a girl.
A thin scraggy-looking girl standing barefoot in a tattered blue dress.
No more water, no more power.
The sea witch glared at Stella. Her eyes hadn’t changed. They were still dark and hungry, as though everything human had been hollowed out of her.
Her lips peeled back in a snarl and Stella flinched. The needle teeth were still the same too.
“Tell Tamar I will have what is mine,” she hissed. Then she turned and ran across the rocks.
When the Haken reached the water’s edge, she dived.
The sea swallowed her without a ripple.
Nimbus fired a fork of lightning into the shallows, throwing up a plume of spray.
“Stop! Let her go,” said Stella. “We won.”
Her shoulder was throbbing now. She touched a finger to the thin spine that poked out of her jacket and yelped.
Nimbus dropped out of the air and wrapped himself around her.
“Thank you,” she said.
“Stella!” Grandpa’s voice was hoarse with worry.
“I’m here. I’m alright,” she called. “You can come out.”
Grandpa and Tamar appeared in the doorway of the broch.
Tamar wasn’t in good shape. She had Grandpa’s hankie pressed to her head as a makeshift bandage and she was leaning heavily on his arm.
“I got rid of the Haken,” said Stella, her voice wobbling. She took a deep breath and swallowed hard. “I did it. I got rid of the Haken.” It sounded more convincing the second time she said it, though she couldn’t keep the note of accusation out of her voice.
Where were you, Tamar?
Tamar gave a weak smile. “I heard the fireworks,” she said. “I’m sorry I missed it.”
Grandpa stared out at the fractured sky. There was a look of fierce readiness on his face, as though he expected the Haken to reappear at any moment.
“She’s gone, Grandpa,” said Stella. “I beat her. I stopped the storm.”
He turned back to her, his face full of awe. His lips moved, but no sound came out. It looked like there were too many different questions fighting to get out.
“How?” he said finally.
“Hurricane, Sahara sunshine, and then Nimbus did a horrible lightning thing,” said Stella.
Tamar nodded in approval. “Righteous fury. A powerful weapon if you use it right.”
“And you’re okay?” said Grandpa.
“Mostly,” said Stella. Nimbus settled closer, his touch soothing and cool against her sore shoulder.
Grandpa let out a breath. “I told you, didn’t I?” he said. “Your gran was right, about the storm.”
Stella shook her head. “Not about me, though.”
“No, not about you,” said Grandpa. “But she’d be delighted to be wrong on that count. Delighted and proud.” He smiled.
A mess of clouds billowed out of the doorway of the broch behind him.
“Oh,” he said. “They did it, by the way. Those little clouds of yours. I kept them at it, and they mended the stone! Not all of them mind, but it was enough, wasn’t it?”
“Yes. It was enough,” said Stella, and gave them a grateful smile.
They’d done it. They’d found their courage and mended the sanctuary stone.
Without the stone song, she didn’t think she’d have beaten the Haken.
The clouds tumbled towards Stella and whirled around her in a dizzying circle, until she laughed.
“Free!” she said. “You’re free!”
“They’ve got you to thank for that,” murmured Tamar. “I would have blasted them out of the broch without a second thought, if you hadn’t stopped me.”
Stella smiled at her. Tamar admitting she was wrong?
She turned back to watch the joyful little clouds. Nimbus wrapped himself closer around her. Maybe he was a tiny bit jealous . . .
You’re the best cloud of all, Nimbus, thought Stella. You’re my cloud.
The horizon wobbled and she sat down. Now all the excitement was over, her shoulder was starting to throb. A hot, heavy ache, that spread down her arm and made her want to lie down in the cool grass and sleep.