made a monster of him. No one can look on him, Sapphire. The sight of the Kraken would freeze your blood and make your body as cold as the dead.”
“But if none of the Mer have ever seen the Kraken, how do you know that he’s a monster?”
Ervys puts up his hand to silence Faro, and takes control. “The Kraken was seen once, in the time of our ancestors, when he came up to the borders of the Deep to claim what was his. Our Guardian saw him in a mirror, and since then the Kraken has never even been glimpsed. He cannot endure to be seen. He struck our Guardian with a cold curse that took a hundred moons to heal.”
“Guardian… do you mean Saldowr?”
“Saldowr!” says Ervys, and this time he can’t hide his jealousy and contempt. “I am talking of what happened ten life-spans ago. What was Saldowr then?”
A mutter of protest rises in the back of the chamber. Faro clenches his fists. I know Saldowr could have been there. Ten life-spans might be nothing to Saldowr, just as hundreds of years seem to be nothing to Granny Carne. But Ervys doesn’t want to believe that Saldowr has such power.
How much support has Saldowr got here? No one stands up to challenge Ervys openly. I wish they would. I wish I could. I’m hot with anger inside, but I daren’t let Ervys see it. Not yet. I’m not strong enough, and this is Ervys’s territory. Even Faro says nothing, although his head is thrown back and his eyes blaze through the water.
“But if the Kraken stays in the Deep, and the Mer don’t go there…” I say hesitantly. I can sense the fear but I still don’t understand why it’s so strong.
“You speak from ignorance,” says Ervys.
This is too much. I don’t care if he’s on his own territory. I don’t even care that his arms ripple with muscle and one blow from his tail could kill me. I’m not letting him get away with this.
“So would the Mer speak from ignorance, if they came into the human world,” I answer him. “Even you, Ervys. You asked me to come here. I’ve visited the Deep, which none of you have. If you want my help, why not explain things to me instead of telling me how ignorant I am?”
I’m out of breath by the time I’ve finished, and scared of what I’ve said, but still glad that I said it. I wait for Ervys to explode, but he doesn’t. He looks at me measuringly.
“I see how you were bold enough to go into the Deep,” he says at last. “Listen. There are things we prefer never to speak about, but we must put them in open words now. The Kraken has the power to destroy our world. The thunder of his voice can split the sea bed, release the tides, destroy Ingo, and send flood and terror even into your world. When the Kraken broke the Tide Knot he was barely whispering. We cannot wait for him to roar. He must be calmed. He must be put back to sleep. And there is only one way to do it.”
“What – what way?”
There is silence in the chamber. Even Ervys doesn’t seem to want to answer. A tense silence, crawling with dread.
“Only one thing can send the Kraken back to sleep,” says Faro, in a low, toneless voice. “A boy and a girl must be sacrificed to him. This is what happened in the time of our ancestors.”
A low moan ripples around the ranks of the Mer. I don’t want to believe it. Surely it can’t be true. The Kraken hasn’t woken for hundreds of years; Ervys said so. Stories get distorted. Maybe there was an epidemic of a sickness which killed children, and the Mer believed that they were sacrificed to the Kraken. Dad used to say that’s how all legends start. They have a seed of truth in them, Sapphy, and the seed grows as the story gets passed from mouth to mouth.
For a second the thought of Dad is so strong that it’s like hearing his voice. And then I remember the baby. Dad’s new family. My little half-brother, fast asleep in his cradle of rock, so peaceful and trusting. A Mer baby with a Mer father who’s left the human world. Just as in the old legends…
That legend was real, though, wasn’t it, Dad? It grew and grew until it swallowed you up. Maybe the Kraken is real too. I want to believe that it’s a myth that has grown into a monster because of the dread that the Mer have of the Deep. But perhaps it’s true.
A boy and a girl…
“They are taken to the border of the Deep, to the point where the Mer can go no farther,” says Ervys. The pain and horror in his voice makes me feel a stab of reluctant sympathy for him. “They are left there for the Kraken. This is what happened in the time of our ancestors.”
But how could anyone give their children to a monster?
The thought floods my mind and I don’t know if I’ve said it aloud or not.
“No one loves their children more than we do,” says Ervys, “but unless we sacrifice to the Kraken, then the whole people will die. Not just the Mer, but all who live in Ingo. Unless we can find another way.”
All who live in Ingo… Dad’s face floats in my mind. I scan the ranks of the Mer, searching. Some of them must know Dad. Maybe Mellina’s family are here, too. It gives me the strangest feeling. Do they know if Dad is happy or unhappy here? Would they know if he wanted to leave Ingo and return to the human world? Conor thinks the Mer are keeping Dad here against his will. I want to believe it too, but sometimes it’s hard. If only I could be as sure as Conor that Dad is waiting for us to bring him back to the human world…
Suddenly Ervys’s final words take hold in my mind. Another way. What way does he mean?
“We know from the whales who visit the Deep that the Kraken is growing impatient,” Ervys goes on. “The breaking of the Tide Knot was not enough for him. If we are to put the Kraken back to sleep, it must be done quickly. If we can find another way – if we can avert the sacrifice – then we will do anything.”
“But the Mer can’t visit the Deep. How can you put the Kraken back to sleep if you can’t get near it?”
“We cannot,” says Ervys, with the faintest emphasis on the first word. “But we believe there is another way. Farther back in time, more than fifty life-spans ago, the Kraken woke and ravaged Ingo for more than a year. But the sacrifice was never made. Mab Avalon put the Kraken back to sleep.”
“Who – what was Mab Avalon?”
Ervys shakes his head. “That memory is not clear. He did not belong to us. He came to Ingo and then he departed for his own world.”
“What world was that?”
“After fifty life-spans even we Mer find that memory has dissolved much of what happened.”
Fifty life-spans, I think, trying to work it out in my head. If the Mer live about seventy years, as humans do, then that’s about – about three thousand five hundred years ago.
“Mab Avalon,” I repeat. The name is rich in my mouth. I’m sure I’ve never heard it before, but it has a strange familiarity. “Ervys… did Mab Avalon come from my world? The human world?”
“He survived the Deep. He returned peace to Ingo. He was Mab Avalon,” Ervys intones.
It is so frustrating. I want information, and Ervys just keeps on repeating the same things.
At
