Spigot shrieked at the babies. Beatrice and Nugget were so happy to be with each other that they smooched and stroked each other with tiny hands and claws. It would have been adorable to watch if debris wasn’t flying off Nugget’s surface and leaving grey piles on the ground. Wheedle had said to look after them, and Spigot knew Wheedle was worried about Nugget. Nugget was falling apart, that’s what concerned him, and the silly baby was letting herself get patted to pieces.
She was happy though, happier than she’d been in days, weeks even.
Pebbles of gargoyle pelt peppered the tiles, but Nugget scooted and giggled, rolling on her back and play fighting as Beatrice grabbed her wings. Maybe it wasn’t pain that had been making Nugget cry so much; maybe it was loneliness. She had needed a playmate.
Nugget was agile, far more than human baby Beatrice, who crawled and sometimes grabbed chairs and table legs to right herself so she could chase the tiny gargoyle. The pair goo-gooed at each other and Spigot screamed again for them to stop. Grey ash from Nugget spread across the kitchen floor. Poor baby Nugget, letting herself crumble away, all because she wanted to play.
Nugget crawled under a dressing gown lying on the kitchen floor. One of the human adults must have dropped it when the dust took them.
Nugget put her head out and looked at Beatrice. ‘Peek-boo,’ Nugget said. Beatrice fell on her bottom laughing. Nugget thought this was so wonderful, she peek-booed again.
A high sound shrilled through the kitchen. Spigot screeched in alarm as the piercing noise went on and on.
Then it stopped. Spigot exhaled. It wasn’t that horrible noise that had made Nick want to fight. And Beatrice wasn’t paying it much mind, like it was normal to her. Spigot flustered at the babies. He had to stop Nugget dusting off more of her skin on the dressing gown. Why wouldn’t she stop? Spigot shook his wings at her, but the pair giggled again, then they cuddled each other. Beatrice put her wet mouth on Nugget’s cheek and it came away ringed in grey. Nugget touched the drool on her face and grinned at Spigot.
The stone eagle wanted to cry. Then the shrill noise began again, stabbing at his head. What was it? It was an awful sound, but then he recognised it. He’d heard it many times, often softened by the roof, sure, as he heard it coming up through the house, but occasionally he’d heard the same sound come from Sam’s bottom.
Mobile phone. That’s what Sam called it.
Spigot trained his eagle eye on the kitchen. On the bench, next to the kettle, sat a black rectangle, just like Sam’s phone. It glowed. Spigot squawked at it and took a step closer.
The phone rang.
Spigot took another step towards it.
What were you supposed to do with phones? What did Sam do?
Spigot pecked the phone. The trilling stopped. Then a voice started.
‘Hello? Hello? Richard?’
Spigot screeched a greeting at the voice.
‘Who is this? Richard? Richard? Is something wrong?’
Spigot cheeped. You could say that.
‘What’s going on?’
Spigot tried to explain, squawking and shrieking for extra emphasis. Michelle, Nick and Richard have run away. Beatrice is patting Nugget to death. Literally. She’s falling apart, and so is everything else. Oh, and Sam has gone out to sea with Bladder and Daniel. Spigot panted. He felt hopeless. I need help.
‘Whatever’s going on, tell Richard I’m coming,’ the voice said. There was a click. The voice went away.
Spigot felt a bit of relief, although he had told the voice Richard had gone off, so who did she think he would be telling? Ooh, maybe the human at the other end can take Beatrice. That might help Nugget from completely disintegrating. At least there was that.
Spigot turned. The babies lay together, sleeping on the dressing gown. Nugget slept without whimpering, her forepaw over Beatrice’s shoulder. Both babies had thumbs stuck in their mouths.
Spigot leaned over them. If Nugget’s wings hadn’t been so chipped and her stone skin so cracked and powdery, it would have been a sweet scene.
Spigot nestled on the floor next to them and watched the babies as they dreamed.
The boat stayed afloat another hour, but it got increasingly difficult to drag. Sam could see the strain on the faces of the dolphins as they pulled the waterlogged vessel.
‘It’d be easier to swim,’ Bladder said.
Despite the sea queen’s gift, Sam was a bit nervous about slipping into the water, but he’d have to soon, and so would Bladder. The gargoyle’s bulk made the boat sink quicker and move slower.
Hazel and Wilfred slid alongside the boat and chittered. Their happy noises comforted him. He patted Hazel and she slipped her fin into his hand.
‘I think she’s telling you to get on,’ Bladder said. ‘An’ it looks like I’m swimming home,’ he moaned. ‘How many sea miles do you think it is?’
Sam slid into the water, holding Wilfred’s fin in one hand and Hazel’s in the other. His chest clenched in the freezing sea and he felt relieved to get some heat from the dolphins, although he could feel them shivering too. He wondered how they had coped for so long.
‘I could swim with you,’ he said to Bladder.
‘Don’t be silly, you gotta get this lot back to land.’ As Bladder spoke, the whale calf bumped the other side of the boat.
‘I think that’s your ride,’ Sam said through chattering teeth.
Bladder shuddered, and put a tentative paw on the calf’s back. It held. He put on another, and the whale let out a spout of water, which crashed down on Bladder’s head.
‘Oh, this is going to be soooo pleasant,’ Bladder said. He looked shaky on the whale’s back, and slumped his belly on to the grey, shiny skin of the great beast.
The whale crested forward.
‘Great, just great,’ Bladder said.
A mist covered the sea, which meant Sam could not see where they were going, and he had to trust the sirens’ song was taking the sea creatures in the right direction, not leaving them stranded.
The shimmer of fish curved with the waves and slowly Sam’s grip on Hazel and Wilfred began slipping. Both of their smooth dolphin backs were getting smaller. They still shone a lovely pearl grey but they were smaller, their dorsal fins barely poking out of their backs and their pectoral fins growing longer, slimmer, the ends of them splaying out and splashing about. Sam looked over his shoulder to see their tails beginning to split in two.
Their transformation back into human shape had begun, but Sam knew they weren’t close enough to land. It was too soon. He looked around and took in the rest of the creatures: the sharks, the seals, the other dolphins. Most of them still appeared the same, but they were shrinking, becoming more kid-sized. The rest of the crowd clustered together as the littler fish – the cod, the herring, the trout and the tiny minnows – suddenly began to grow. Some of their eyes still gazed ahead, fish-blank, and only the song kept them with the group. A salmon stared at Sam. A little brown and very human nose poked out of its scaly face.
Bladder rode the whale calf’s back, his eyes wide and his jaw hanging open. The whale under him had shrunk enough to pull the gargoyle’s forepaws together; his ride wasn’t going to last long and Sam guessed Bladder was judging how far he’d have left to swim.
‘What’s that?’ Bladder called out.
Sam peered up and squinted. He felt so cold, he couldn’t focus. He’d lost his wellies, and he wondered if the cold would kill him soon. He’d heard it could.
Two shining white eyes glared at him over the dark water.
‘I hope that’s not some sort of sea monster,’ Bladder said. ‘Did the book say anything about creatures with glowing eyes?’
Sam had been looking for information on magic, not huge monsters with bright eyes. It could have been a scylla, or Nessie. He had no idea. He wondered how big it was and what kind of appetite it had. It headed towards them, its eyes staring with unyielding light.
Then he heard human voices, and a third ‘eye’ shone out. He spluttered as a wave hit him in the face. ‘It’s not a monster, it’s a boat.’
The humans aboard yelled at each other and Sam heard the churn of machinery. It was on a definite course to meet them.
‘What sort of boat goes out at night?’ Bladder asked. ‘Won’t be a pleasure ride.’
The boat came out of the darkness, no longer disguised by waves and distance. It was hard to see what type it was – it was boat-shaped all right, but with a huge metal arm leaning over the side and dragging a sheet alongside it.
Bladder yelled. ‘You gotta be kidding me! It’s a trawler. I’ve seen movies, Sam, that’s a trawler!’
‘What’s a trawler?’ Sam yelled back over the sound of engines pushing towards them.
A seal screamed.
‘A fishing trawler, Sam. They catch fish.’
The larger creatures moved out of the way of the metal monster bearing down on them, but the smaller fish, mesmerised by the sirens’ song and maintaining the course the song sent them on, kept swimming in its direction.
The net, for Sam could see it was a net, pulled through the water, scooping up the helpless whiting, salmon, herring and trout. A seal trying to herd the fish away got tangled up with the bundle, along with a dolphin. Sam thought it might be Amira. The net lifted out of the water, whiting and other small fish falling free of the trap.
‘Sam, they’ll drown!’ Bladder shouted.
‘Drown?’
‘Fish can’t breathe out of water. Look at them!’
Sam saw the hundreds of fish-children gasping as they rose into the night air.
‘Captain, there’s something out there,’ a voice called. The huge torchlight landed on Bladder astride his shrinking whale.
‘Get me to that boat,’ Sam told Wilfred and Hazel. His hands were so cold, he wondered if they’d stick.
Bladder was right beside him as he got to the side of the boat. It looked so high. Sam put one hand on the bulkhead and pulled himself out of the water. Wet and in the full blast of the winter wind, he was even colder out of the waves. He looked at the fish in the net, thrashing so hard they slammed into each other. Bladder ran up the side of the boat.
‘Sam? Are you all right, Sam?’ Bladder came back towards him. ‘How are you so blue?’
Sam shook so hard, he couldn’t speak.
‘How were you able to survive at the bottom of the ocean but not here? Mermaid magic? Must be. Where’s that blasted angel when we need him?’
Sam wanted to let go and drop to the water. He didn’t have the energy for this. ‘Save the fish,’ was all he could manage.
‘You first, then fish.’ Bladder grabbed him by his soaking anorak and dragged him to the top of the boat.
‘What the … ?’ screamed one of the boatmen as Bladder threw the shaking Sam on to the deck.
‘Let my fish go!’ Bladder yelled.
‘Captain!’ another screamed.
The captain – Sam could tell by his hat – ran forward, holding a long rod with a hook at the end. He waved it in Bladder’s face. ‘Where’d you come from?’
‘Out of the water, you twit! Let the fish go!’
‘Back! Back!’ the captain yelled.
Bladder lunged forward, grabbed the hook in his mouth and snapped the rod in two. Two more crew members came at him with fishing rods. One had a filleting knife in her hand. Bladder roared and bit down on the woman’s wrist. She screamed and the knife skidded towards Sam.
Sam stood. He shook so hard he couldn’t get the words out. ‘Let. Fish. Go.’
‘It’s a kid,’ the woman yelled.
Bladder backed away from the crew, yelling ‘Yah, yah!’ at them, and clambered towards the swinging net. Sam watched. Some of the fish weren’t flapping as much. Sam grabbed the knife.
‘Where in the world did the boy come from?’
Whether it was panic, being out of the water or something else, Sam found the sudden energy to follow Bladder towards the net. He jumped out towards it, causing it to swing and sway, allowing a few more fish to fall to the safety of the water below. The full net lurched and waved over the water. As Sam swung back towards the boat, a crew member tried to grab him.
‘No, you don’t!’ Bladder yelled and barrelled into the man, pitching him into the water.
Sam caught hold of the net and used it like a ladder, clenching the knife between his teeth like he’d seen in a movie. He hoped he didn’t slip. The knife was very sharp.
‘Hurry, Sam!’ Bladder called out.
‘Get that boy off the net!’ the captain yelled.
‘Captain! Ben’s in the water! And there’s a shark!’
The captain swore. The crew forgot Sam and went to work trying to get their crew member to safety. Sam thought that was a good idea. The shark wouldn’t hurt Ben, but without a couple of warm dolphins lending him a bit of warmth, the water could freeze him to death.
Sam scrambled to the top of the net. The fish were opening and closing their mouths, trying to breathe air that was useless to them. He saw their begging expressions.
He sat astride the metal arm holding the net and began cutting ropes. They looked thick. He hacked and the fish panted. As the first rope thinned down, his frozen fingers got sorer and sorer. He slipped, slicing his thumb. He couldn’t stop though and his blood, bright red in the cold air, fell on to the gasping fish. Just a couple more strands to cut and he could move on to the other rope.
The first rope dropped as it broke through, but Sam never got to the second one.
The net opened, spilling all the fish into the water, and the seals and dolphins swarmed forwards to help them. Ben, the crewman in the water, screamed as the larger creatures moved towards him.
Sam watched as the fish fell. He felt a moment of relief, until the bar, which had been held down by the weight of hundreds of fish, catapulted him into the air, above the deck, over the head of a yelling gargoyle.
He closed his eyes. He was so cold, so very, very cold. As the last of his warmth left his body, Sam closed his eyes.