Sam opened his eyes. He was flying. He looked at the sea below and the boat moving further away, with its bewildered crew pulling Ben on to the deck. A few paces from them a stone lion climbed on to the boat railing, ready to fling itself back in the water in the direction of a whale calf watching him with bright blue eyes. The size of the school of mismatched fish and sea creatures was huge. It looked magical from above.
And he felt warm.
‘How are you?’ a familiar voice asked.
‘Daniel?’
‘It’s taken ages to find you. You aren’t fitted with a GPS and if you don’t call for me, you are very hard to locate.’ The angel sighed. ‘Thank goodness that gargoyle had a good whinge. Although we will have words about him calling me a “blasted angel”.’
‘I thought I was going to die.’
‘You very nearly did. In fact, it’s miraculous you withstood the cold so long. That’s got to be a little of the gargoyle toughness Bladder keeps bragging about.’
Above the herd, Sam could make out distant lights. The whole of the Sussex coastline, he guessed. It was still too far away. He wondered at the changes he had seen. Queen Amphitrite had said the children needed to be close to shore when they began to change. He’d never thought to ask what ‘close’ meant to her. If the changes took place too soon, some of these fish would turn into very small children, toddlers even, and many of them, maybe most, couldn’t swim. Even a hundred metres from shore would be a death sentence. He hoped the changes would slow down.
‘We’ve got to move faster,’ Sam said.
‘Tell them.’ Daniel dropped closer to the waves.
Sam shuddered. He wouldn’t resist if Daniel let him go, but the thought of the freezing water made him close his eyes as he prepared for the shock.
The angel did not release him. Instead he held Sam closer, warming him from his nose to his toes, and hovered above a cluster of the larger animals. Sam repeated his instruction to Wilfred, Amira, Hazel, the whale calf and a bob of seals.
Wilfred let out a high-pitched song that reminded Sam of laughter, and many of the fish nodded. Sam noted many eyes were fully human, no longer the blank black inside eye sockets. Blue, brown and green irises stared up at him. A grey nurse shark herded a school of trout as the silvery fish flicked their tails and got a move on. In the middle of the group, one trout stood out; its luminescent scales had become pink skin, but it was swimming as quickly as the others.
‘I can smell land,’ said the shark. The shark looked pleased to be able to speak again, its toothy grin spreading across its wide face. It still had the blank eyes of a predator, which made the whole expression far creepier than the fish around it liked.
Sam was glad the shark was happy, but wary of every sign of returning humanity. ‘Faster, faster,’ he said.
The dolphins chuckled again, above water and under, and the unwieldy flock of sea beasts did their best to keep up the pace. The stingrays struggled with the growing minnows, and a bed of eels, far more sleepy and idle than Sam liked, slithered about, collecting the small fish falling behind or drifting from their group. Each strong member looked after the weak. Maybe they would have bullied each other if this had been the playground, but they all seemed to understand that this was life and death. Sam wondered which ones were kids from school. He’d never be able to tell; there were thousands of children swimming with him.
Then Sam saw the flutter of lights become more distinct and the shore took shape, and a structure grew out of the sea: the top of the i360. He had no sense of how far away it was, but at least he could see it.
Hazel stared at him, her dolphin eyes beginning to take on more of the golden cast of the girl he knew.
They were already going as quickly as they could, so Sam bit down on the urge to yell ‘Faster!’ once more.
Little fish became bigger, so they were moving with more speed towards the tower, their fins stretching and hinting that they would soon be legs. The creatures bumped into each other, slowing their progress. A growing minnow stared at Sam with happy brown eyes. He didn’t know whether to worry or be glad.
‘We’re going to have to stretch out, so we’ll all be able to climb out on the shore at the same time,’ he yelled down to them.
Wilfred hooted in his dolphin voice again, and the line strained outwards. Some creatures struggled in the water. A few eels slid up to seals and shuffled them over, a stingray pushed at a shark until it shifted to widen the line, and Bladder was talking to his steadily shrinking whale. The whale gave a flick of its tail and headed north-east, putting distance between Bladder and Sam as it led away salmon, trout and various other fish.
When Sam could see Brighton Pier and make out the grey outlines of buildings propped against each other along the coastline, he almost whooped. A wave lapped up at him and licked his bare feet, but it did not swallow his cheer.
‘I’ll find you, Sam, don’t worry,’ Bladder’s voice called back to him, and the gargoyle’s whale sailed away, the line of fish life and water mammals spreading thinner and thinner.
The ones large enough to have a wake pulled smaller ones at a faster speed than they could manage by themselves, and soon the buildings went from being a blur of grey shapes against a dark blue sky to having height and definition. Sam was higher up and had gargoyle vision and could see better than most, he knew, but he was relieved to make out the ironwork on the front of the French-style buildings.
‘Help! Help!’ a child’s voice called out. The school of trout, most of them still fish-shaped, fled in a sudden dash closer to the beach, leaving a girl with dark, curly hair thrashing about in the waves. Then the waves covered her, lapping over her sinking head.
Wilfred slipped out from where he swam under Sam and dived. Sam watched the boy-shaped silver sliver dash off into the water. Wilfred had legs and arms, but each ended with a fin, and he swam with animal speed into the sea. A few seconds later, Wilfred’s grey snout appeared, the little girl’s face next to his. She gasped and spluttered.
Another child choked. His arms flailed above the surface, clad in blue pyjamas instead of fur or scales. A seal dived at the boy and let him grab its neck.
Sam felt relief when he saw a pebbled beach appearing through the cloudy air. He urged the group on. The great swell of animals, creatures spreading out to his left and his right, all kept pace with Daniel. They surged towards the beach dragging the smaller fish in their rapid wake. Waves pushed from behind as if the sea itself wanted them closer to the shore, and the tide pulled them forward towards Brighton, Hove and the other towns east and west along the coast.
Another small body screamed for assistance. It could have had brown hair, maybe yellow, the sombre morning air and the sea darkened it so much, but a shrinking shark with hazel eyes let the child grab its fin and pushed forward faster to get the little one to safety.
Sam saw the seal with the pyjama-wearing boy riding on its back. The poor thing was shivering in the freezing water and holding his breath every time the seal ducked under the waves. His lips looked bluer each time. There were others well along their way to becoming human, but Sam was relieved to see very few had completely reversed, and those who swam well ferried the strugglers.
Brighton Pier and the clapped-out skeleton of the Palace Pier appeared clearer. A few of the larger creatures coursed ahead, weaving between the posts of both piers. One or two had already flopped on the beach. The tide was coming in, pulling the creatures further and faster than they could have gone just by swimming.
Schools of herring, the half-whale, half-human and a basking shark swam between the piers’ posts too. Sam couldn’t see Dolphin Wilfred and his human charge anywhere.
As they came within a short distance of the shore, the metamorphosis sped up. A few screams rose, but older children pulled the younger to shore and dragged them to where the water was shallow enough to walk.
Some only changed as they hit Brighton’s pebbled beach.
Daniel dropped Sam on to the stones and turned away.
‘We’ve got other fish to fry,’ Daniel said. ‘Sorry, bad expression.’
‘What are you talking … ?’ Sam asked.
‘No time,’ Daniel replied and flew away.
Sam did not ponder Daniel’s leaving for long. The scene in front of him – the great exodus from the ocean and the marvellous transformations – was a great distraction.
A seal stood up in the foamy tide, its body turned into a grey-furred child, while red flared underneath its pelt, flaming up its body. With the change completed, a little boy with dark hair and dark skin stood in his wet, red pyjamas, staring up at the railing above. The rays of morning sun softened the smooth, dark rocks under his bare feet. He shivered and cried.
A bed of eels slithered between the rocks, and arms and legs and heads shot out like one of those shows Sam had seen with plants growing rapidly because the camera used something called ‘time lapse’ (he had squealed like a dolphin when they had shown it in science). The whale became a human girl and rose out of the water, her pyjamas still grey. Dolphins beached themselves, writhing for a few seconds before they became children rolling around on hard stones. Fish threw themselves at the beach and fell in great silver drops. The newly reverted children threw their arms over their faces to protect themselves from the flapping. Most flipped over once and were children as soon as they set down.
The wind pushed in from the sea, carrying their voices inland.
* * *
There were a few adults up on the street above, walking near the rail. Sam saw one man wearing a tweed trilby hat grab it and squash it to his chest as he let out a garbled scream. This brought everyone else running, but by the time they calmed the old man, reshaped his hat and figured out there was something on the beach of interest, they had missed the sudden evolution of hundreds of sea creatures into humans.
What they saw next wasn’t as bizarre as that, but it was fascinating enough. There were children on the beach. Wet, cold, distressed children.
Thousands of them.
Sam felt chilly again. His feet were bare and the beach was wet, but his clothes were dry and his jacket thick. Daniel was right, these children were wet and in thin pyjamas.
‘Come on, everyone, up the stairs,’ he called.
The adults at the top headed towards them too. Some called names, parents of lost children scanned the crowd.
‘Tyson?’
‘Carys?’
‘Hashem?’
‘Boo?’
Sam called out. ‘Hazel, Wilfred, Amira.’ A few faces looked at him, but none of them were his friends.
Hazel found him within a few seconds, then began her own calling. ‘Amira? Wilfred?’ Her hair stuck about her face and her teeth chattered, but she smiled when she heard a distant ‘ahoy’ from Wilfred, who staggered between bawling toddlers and a few bawling teenagers to get to her. Amira followed him, dancing over the rocks on light, agile feet.
Sam was surprised to see that Wilfred hadn’t completely reverted yet. His skin glowed dove grey in the sunshine. ‘Coming?’ Wilfred said to Sam.
‘We have to get these kids inside, anywhere. You too,’ Sam said. ‘The little ones won’t know to do it for themselves.’
‘This way.’ Wilfred gestured east and they trotted off up the beach, collecting a small red-haired child and a bewildered boy who called out, ‘Mama? Papa?’
Amira and Hazel scooped up a crying toddler each and headed to the steps.
They weren’t the only ones to realise the need. A police helicopter circled the beach as teenagers herded the other frightened children up the steps. Adults at the top took off coats and wrapped them around crying youngsters. Someone yelled to ‘put the urn on’.
Sam helped half a dozen squalling kids on to their feet and encouraged them to go up to the street.
When the last of the kids moved to the footpath above, Sam climbed up too, fighting through not only children but hundreds of adults who had rushed down as soon as news spread. Many of them were yet to find who they were looking for, but the police were in the mix, collecting the names of as many children as they could, phoning for parents, backup, hot chocolate. The traffic stopped as the throng of children crammed the footpaths and spilt on to roads. The hotels opened wide their front doors, and guests and staff alike pulled damp kids inside to keep them warm.
The parents came, the police checked ID, and the children cried, or laughed, or tried to get away, and officers cordoned off the roads to make sure no small children left before an adult came to fetch them. Then there were more helpers, volunteers with blankets, with hot chocolate, with iPads, taking details and grouping children by suburbs. A few Brighton bus drivers showed up and offered to take kids to their homes and many of the older kids climbed on board. They sat for a while as other volunteers phoned every home.
Many of the children were too young to remember Mummy or Daddy’s phone number, but someone showed up with a printout of the missing children and tried to get the smallest ones to tell their names.
‘I was fish,’ one said to a flustered woman trying to get a straight answer out of the child.
When Sam, Wilfred, Hazel and Amira saw every child had been claimed or pulled indoors, they let themselves be herded inside too.
‘What’s your name, lad?’ someone asked at Sam’s elbow.
He turned and realised the man in the argyle sweater was talking to him.
‘Samuel Kavanagh,’ he answered.
The man looked through his iPad and scrolled and scrolled. ‘Rebecca, Leroy … How are you spelling that?’
Sam spelled Kavanagh. The man shook his head.
‘Which county are you from? Everyone here seems pretty local.’
Sam gave the man his address, but the helper continued shaking his head. He tapped in a few more words. ‘I have a Simon Lawson Cavanagh from Bognor Regis.’
‘Not me.’
‘Don’t worry, we’ll get you home. Do you know your number?’ the man asked, but disappeared as someone grabbed him to tell him something.
Sam wandered out to the footpath again. If he’d still had shoes, he would’ve just walked home. He could no longer see his friends in the dense crowd. He hoped their parents had taken them.
A few seagulls let out screeching greetings overhead, and he spotted Yonah staring at him from an iron railing on the hotel’s second floor. She said nothing, just pointed her beak upwards to where Bladder peered at him from a sloping roof. The stone lion pointed in the direction of home. Sam nodded. He’d meet him later.
‘What are you doing out here?’ The man in the argyle jumper had found Sam again. ‘Do you have a number for your family?’
Sam patted his pocket, where he would carry his phone. It was instinct, but he was surprised to find its hard outlines under his hand. He pulled out his mobile. It was still dry in his jacket pocket. He couldn’t believe it until he saw the obvious angelic thumbprint on the screen.
‘Well, that was easy,’ the man said. ‘You know, I think you’re the first one with a phone on him.’
Sam handed it to him, watching elated parents and stupefied children make teary reunions in the hotel’s foyer. A young man in a blue uniform and red tie came over with a tray of warm drinks.
‘No one is answering. Do you have anyone else I can call?’ the man asked. ‘There’s a missed call on your phone from someone called “GA Colleen”.’
Great-Aunt Colleen. ‘Yes, call her.’
The man dialled the number. ‘Hello, my name is Fayard James. I have a Samuel Kavanagh …’
The phone burst to life with a barrage of Irish invective. Sam guessed most of it was excitement and relief, and hoped the helpful man didn’t understand too much.
‘Yes, yes, I’ll put him on,’ Mr James said, and handed Sam the phone.
‘Oh, Samuel, my Samuel, you’re all right then?’
‘Yes, Great-Aunt Colleen.’
‘Where is it they’re keeping you?’ she asked.
‘I’m at the Brighton Front,’ Sam said, and named the hotel.
‘Tell them to put you in a taxi and send you home. Your Uncle Paddy and I are already at the airport. Are your parents with you? Beatrice? Nick?’
‘No, Great-Aunt Colleen.’ Sam felt a sea wash of nausea tide up from his belly. ‘I don’t know where anyone is. Why are you here?’
‘I had a rather interesting talk over your father’s phone. A lot of squawks and shrieks.’
‘Spigot?’
‘That’s one of your gargoyles then?’
‘Yes, Great-Aunt Colleen. But how did you know there was a problem?’
‘It’s not often a bird chats to me from your father’s number. I might not understand what it said, but it was a bit of a giveaway that there was something awful happening. Also, I had a bad feelin’, you see, which is why I called your da in the first place.’
The sea never made Sam feel as cold as he did at that moment.