The Evorsio rested on the seabed like a tilted crown.
‘Hurry up!’ yelled Tara, from far, far away. She had stopped pushing the sea out. Their strip of seabed was growing narrower as the tide tightened its belt around them.
Fionn pressed a hand to his chest. Then, with their backs to the three black rocks, they hurried towards the shipwreck.
The shipwreck was more pristine than Fionn had been expecting – particularly compared to La Juliana. The body of it was barely submerged in the seabed, its hull tilted where broken masts had tipped it over. There were cannons strewn all around them, their slender bodies sticking out like street bollards. There were tattered black rags where billowing sails had once been. But the dark wood railings and intricate rig had been untouched by the ocean’s curious mouths. The anchor was barely brushed with rust, its hefty tail wedged deep in the sand.
‘Can you give me a boost?’ said Shelby. ‘We need to go up on deck.’
Fionn hoisted her on to his hands and then his shoulders as she pulled herself over the ship railings. He climbed on the head of the anchor and dragged himself up after her, his fingers closing around hers as she heaved him over the lip of the stern. A new smell nearly knocked him sideways. It was rotting fish and burnt wood, ash and fire and metal. And something else. Something Fionn had never smelled before.
‘Oh,’ said Shelby. ‘It’s a graveyard.’
The smell was death. And it was everywhere.
Fionn crunched a bone under the heel of his foot, swallowing his gasp before it sprang free. A skull stared up at him – the hollow remains of a merrow-chewed Soulstalker. They moved along quickly, picking their way over old bones and sunken wood, searching for the shell.
The sea inched closer. Tara’s warnings rang out from the strand, where Sam was sitting down with his head tucked between his legs. It was just her and Bartley holding the tide now.
‘Look,’ said Shelby, ducking under a broken mast and pointing towards the bow, where the ship’s prow pierced the ocean’s veil. They could see fish swimming around inside it – huge fins and curved bodies, their sleek scales glinting at them through the water.
The ship’s wheel was spinning. A shiver of wind had followed them inside The Evorsio and was playing captain at the head of the vessel.
The wheel was knocking against something at its base.
It was a shell. It was covered in barnacles, laced with krill and coral, and stuffed with seaweed, but there was no mistaking the pearly exterior, or the gleaming gold rims.
They nearly tripped over themselves with the sudden burst of excitement, barely noticing the spray of saltwater on their cheeks as they thundered across the deck. Fionn’s magic was in his throat, trying to scream. Trying to call out to the Tide Summoner.
Far away, Tara was screaming too.
Fionn tripped over a pile of bones and went down hard on his side, slamming into the deck with a painful ‘Ooof!’
Shelby vaulted over him, making a beeline for the shell. ‘It’s OK. I got it!’
Fionn staggered to his feet just as Shelby yanked it free. All around her, the ocean shook, like a giant block of blue jelly.
‘Fionn!’ She spun around, the shell glowing in her hand. The light encircled her fingers, and then her wrist, and then her arm, travelling all the way up her body like an electric current until her face was glowing too. She looked at him with wide eyes. ‘W-what’s happening?’
Fionn stared at the shimmering shell. At her shimmering face. ‘Do you feel OK?’
Shelby swallowed. ‘I …’
Tara screamed.
The sea hiccoughed.
‘Shelby, run!’ shouted Fionn as it rained down on them.
Shelby shoved the shell in her lifejacket, and together they sprinted back across the deck, over ancient bones and gaping skulls, matching each other stride for stride. They flung themselves off the ship’s railing and tumbled on to the seabed. The ocean poured over The Evorsio, gulping it back into its belly. It nipped at Fionn’s heels as he leapt to his feet, his hand reaching for Shelby’s as they bolted through the narrowing seabed, setting a course for the strand.
The ocean roared after them. The sea climbed up the black rocks and engulfed the Spanish shipwreck as they raced past it. Back on the beach, Bartley was on his knees.
Tara was the last one standing.
She was swaying on her feet.
The tide rushed in on either side of them, the pathway to shore no wider than the hallway at Tír na nÓg. Fionn slid behind Shelby, as the sea licked their elbows.
‘We won’t make it,’ Shelby panted. ‘We’re too far.’
Tara collapsed on the beach.
‘Hold your breath!’ yelled Fionn.
The sea careened over them, slammed their heads into the sand, and sluiced their legs out from under them. Fionn was lost in a cloud of froth and bubbles, his arms and legs flailing helplessly as the ocean buried him in an endless waterfall. He inhaled a lungful of saltwater and felt his chest closing. The lifejacket pulled him up, up, up – until his head crested the surface. He threw his face back to the sky and vomited, gasping at the frigid air.
He spun in the water. ‘Shelby!’
He couldn’t see her. Couldn’t hear her. There was only the sound of his own panicked screams and the rattle of his cough in his ears. ‘Shelby!’
His insides grew white-hot, his magic flaring in every inch of him until he felt like he might explode from the heat of it.
The sea began to bubble.
‘Shelby!’ he yelled. ‘Shelby!’
Another mouthful of water poured out of him.
He hiccoughed.
The waves hiccoughed.
Shelby was thrown up from the sea.
She broke the surface in a tangle of hair and limbs, retching lungfuls of seawater as her lifejacket suspended her. There was a gash along her forehead and a trail of blood covering one side of her face. ‘I hit a rock,’ she cried. ‘I got stuck!’
Her head began to loll, the blood dripping down her neck and soaking into her lifejacket. The Tide Summoner sat snug against her chest.
Fionn swam towards her. ‘Hang on! I’m coming!’
‘I’m so sleepy, Fionn.’
‘Stay awake, Shelby!’ He pulled her into his chest and used his free hand to paddle them back to shore. It seemed impossibly far away. His sister was a blot on the sand, the others curled up on their sides beside her. ‘Keep talking to me.’
‘Too … tired.’
‘Tell me about the meerkats,’ he said, as the water lapped against his chin. ‘How did you get into the enclosure?’
Shelby smiled, her head collapsing against his shoulder. ‘Meerkats,’ she murmured. ‘Little tiny meerkats.’
Come on, come on, come on.
He kicked his legs, groaning from the effort.
Please.
The wind picked up. The waves quietened as they moved through them. Fionn hoped she would be OK – that she would forgive him for wasting time in that stupid rock, for tripping over himself on the way to that shell. For dragging her with him in the first place.
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, they were rolled out on to the sand. Shelby collapsed on top of him.
Bartley staggered over to them. ‘What happened?’
‘She hit her head,’ said Fionn. ‘Get your phone. We need to call someone.’
‘My mum,’ said Bartley, patting his pockets in slow-motion. ‘My mum’s a doctor.’
He took his phone out, blinking heavily as he raised it to his ear.
Fionn slipped his arms underneath Shelby’s and dragged her up on to the beach. He wrestled the lifejacket from her, stuffed the Tide Summoner in the waistband of his trousers, and cleared the matted hair from her cheeks.
Sam crawled up the beach after them. He shrugged his coat off and pressed it against the cut on Shelby’s forehead. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said blearily. ‘I fell asleep. I couldn’t help it. I didn’t know how exhausting it would be.’
‘It’s not your fault. You did really well.’ Fionn grabbed the empty schoolbag, stuffed his wet lifejacket inside and made a pillow for Shelby’s head. ‘I wasted valuable time out there.’
Tara groaned herself awake. Her eyelashes were crusted with sand, her right cheek bruising where she had gone down face first on to the beach. She dragged herself towards them. ‘Wha’s happenin’?’ she slurred.
‘Come here! Quick!’ said Fionn, waving her over. ‘I need to know what they do with concussions on that doctor show you love.’
Tara peered over at Shelby. ‘Oh no,’ she said quietly. ‘I couldn’t hold on any longer. I burned every single candle. I’m sorry.’
Shelby’s eyelashes fluttered. ‘Just hang on, Shelby,’ said Fionn. ‘Help is on the way.’
They sat in a cluster, the Tide Summoner momentarily forgotten as they watched over their friend.
Finally, three figures appeared on the cliffs above.
‘Mum!’ Bartley waved his hands over his head as a tall woman in a dark navy suit stumbled down the rocks. Douglas Beasley followed after her, slipping and sliding his way into the cove. Elizabeth Beasley waited up on the cliff-side, her silver hair streaming in the wind.
Shelby’s mother landed on her like a butterfly. ‘It’s OK, darling. Mummy’s here.’ She removed Sam’s coat, inspected the gash on her forehead. ‘Can you open your eyes for me, Shelby?’
Douglas hovered over her shoulder, his beady eyes trained on Bartley. ‘How did this happen?’ he demanded. ‘Haven’t I told you to be careful near those bloody rocks?’
‘We were –’
‘Weren’t you watching your sister?’ Douglas interrupted. ‘Look how hurt she is. There’s enough danger on these shores without adding your idiocy to the list! When your father gets down here, he’ll clip your ear!’
‘I – I know. But we had to get the Tide Summoner …’
‘That stupid shell again,’ said Douglas, shaking his head. ‘For goodness sake.’
‘She hit her head.’ Bartley raked a hand through his hair. It was a mess now, matted with gel and mussed with sand. ‘It’s not my fault.’
Bartley’s mother sat back, her mouth relaxing. Her hooded eyes were light brown and marked at their corners with crow’s feet. They were warmer than Fionn was expecting. ‘She’s all right, Douglas. She’ll need some stitches and supervision. Let’s get her home.’
Shelby was awake, and staring at them like they had all sprouted several extra heads. ‘What’s all the fuss about?’
‘Douglas, help me get her up. She needs to get out of this cove and into the warmth.’
‘I’m fine,’ said Shelby, trying to sit up. She winced. ‘Ouch.’
‘What on earth happened down here?’ Shelby’s mother was just now registering Tara, who was half slumped against a rock, Sam caught mid-yawn, and finally Bartley whose eyes were so red it looked as though he hadn’t slept in a week. He was so unusually quiet now, Fionn wondered if he might have concussion too.
‘The Storm Keeper looks fine to me,’ said Douglas, turning on Fionn. ‘Whatever this mess was, you shouldn’t have endangered my niece. Don’t we have enough to worry about today?’
‘I’m sorry,’ said Fionn quietly. ‘It was an accident.’
‘Go home,’ said Douglas. ‘You’ll have a lot to answer for later. And you could do with a bath. You smell like a decomposing seal.’
‘Ha,’ said Bartley weakly.
Fionn gathered up Sam and Tara, dragging them along behind him as they left the Beasleys to take Shelby.
On the top of the cliff, Elizabeth skewered them with her burning glare. If she hated Fionn before, then she despised him now. ‘I hope you have something very clever up your sleeve for our meeting later, Keeper,’ she said darkly. ‘For our sake and yours.’
Fionn held his tongue this time, but he could feel her eyes boring into his back as they slunk away from her.
‘Nosy old woman,’ muttered Sam.
‘Just hurry up,’ said Tara, leaning heavily on him. ‘We need to get home.’
Fionn pulled the Tide Summoner from his waistband. The gold rims winked at him beneath a crust of barnacles. He pulled a mound of seaweed from its mouth, dropping the strands in his wake.
‘What now then?’ asked Sam, perking up a little.
Fionn traced the rim. ‘We’ll blow it on the strand at sundown, when Ivan has his entire army out on the beach looking for me,’ he said, twisting the shell in his hands, ‘That way, we can summon our own army. And they’ll rip his one to shreds in less than five minutes.’
‘It’s about time we turned the tide in our favour,’ said Tara approvingly.
‘Yeah,’ said Fionn, a cautious smile curling on his lips. ‘It is.’