The Crossing of Ingo (32 page)

“T
hey’ve got spears,” says Conor. Light glints on metal. Now I understand exactly why the Mer hate metal, and despise humans for depending on it. Those spears can kill so easily. I glance down at the healed scar on Faro’s tail. Every third or fourth Mer man is carrying a spear in his left hand. I’ve never realised before this moment that the Mer are left-handed. I should have. Elvira is, and Faro. Maybe a few Mer are right-handed, just as a few humans are left-handed – my thoughts scuttle blindly. “Faro,” I say.

“I’m here, little sister. I will defend you with the last drop of my blood.”

Dear Faro. Only he could say such a thing and make it sound completely natural.

“I’ll defend you too. We’ll all fight for one another.”

“We will never be separated,” says Faro sombrely. “We will die together.”

The islands are alive with Ervys’s followers. I try to count them but have to give up as more and more appear from behind ruined walls.

“I should have thought of this,” says Conor. He puts his arm around my shoulders. “I promised Mum I’d look after you.”

“We couldn’t know, Con.”

“Ervys was never going to let us complete the Crossing.”

The ranks of enemy Mer sway like the weed they hid among. They’ve ambushed us so easily. I should have listened to what that knot of fear was telling me.

We’re going to die here. No one will even know that we almost made the Crossing. Saldowr will give up hope of seeing us again. Mum won’t ever know what’s happened to us – nor will Dad—

I can’t think of that now. I clench my fists as Sadie’s puzzled, loving face rises in my mind. She will wait and wait and she’ll never really believe that I’m not coming back.

There are only four of us, and Byblos. But Byblos mustn’t die. She can still escape – there’s just time. As if she hears my thoughts, Byblos nudges close to me. “Don’t be afraid,” she murmurs. “We will fight together.”

“No,” says Faro. His face blazes with sudden conviction. “Take Sapphire. Take her to Saldowr. He’ll know that we didn’t fail. She has crossed Ingo with her human blood.”

“I won’t go!” I say furiously. “I can’t leave the rest of you.”

And then Elvira breaks in, her voice as sweet and silvery as ever although her face is blanched with fear. “None of us should go. Byblos will travel faster alone. Go, Byblos, rouse Ingo. Tell Saldowr. Carry the message to all the Mer who are faithful to him.”

Byblos swirls round. “I can take Sapphire on my back,” she says.

“You’ll be faster alone. Quick, Byblos, before they strike!” I urge her.

“Thrash the water,” Faro tells us all. “Make it white with foam so they don’t see which way she goes.” He and Elvira smash the water with their tails. Conor and I can only kick, but even so the water churns, hiding Byblos as she escapes.

I’m afraid that Ervys will choose this moment to attack, but when the water clears again I see that his forces are still massing. I don’t know why they bother. It’s so obvious that they can wipe us out in a few seconds. Some of them are facing us, others turn north, east and west. They’re not in range of us yet. If they hurled their spears from that distance, they’d fall harmlessly to the sea bed.

“Why are they waiting, Conor?”

“I don’t know. Maybe Ervys wants to enjoy the moment.”

We all stay very still, as if the least movement might provoke the Mer ranks to charge us. Yes, Ervys will enjoy making us wait. Ever since we witnessed his humiliation when he looked into Saldowr’s mirror, Ervys has longed to punish us. He probably wouldn’t admit it – he’d say that he’s been forced to destroy us to protect the independence of Ingo, Mer blood and Mer rights. But he’s got more personal motives too.

Faro scans the ranks of Ervys’s followers intently. “Some of them are not so happy,” he says.

“What do you mean?”

“Look. You can see it in their bodies. They are uneasy. That one there, next to Mortarow – yes, it’s Teweth! – he doesn’t want to be there.”

“Faro, they’re starting to move!”

It’s just a ripple of movement to begin with. We watch, fascinated, frozen. The advance halts. Ervys is giving a speech, rallying his men. We see his arm go up, and the point of his spear catches the sunlight refracting through the water. A cheer rumbles through the water towards us. They are coming. They raise their spears in their left hands as their tails power them through the water. Ervys is in the centre of the front rank. I can see his face clearly now. It’s set and scowling, as if he’s facing an army of hundreds.

There’s no army. Only us, the four of us, shoulder to shoulder. Faro on my left, Conor on my right, and then Elvira. Conor’s face is calm. I hope mine is too. Ervys’s men are coming closer. Soon they’ll be within a spear’s length of us. Perhaps spears travel more slowly through water than they do through air. We’ll have more time to swerve out of their way. We shouldn’t really be so close together because it makes us an easier target. But it gives me strength to feel the others beside me. Faro is right: we’ll die together.

Ervys halts again, about a hundred metres away, and all his followers stop swimming too. They hang back a little as he moves forward. Another twenty metres, and then another twenty. He is a huge, dominating figure. He tosses back his
shaggy mane of hair in a gesture which reminds me oddly of Faro.

“Come forward!” he commands.

“Why should we put ourselves within range of the metal you have stolen from the human world?” Faro calls back defiantly. Ervys’s face grows thunderous. I brace myself for the order, and the advance, and the first shower of spears, but nothing happens. Ervys holds up his hand.

“Enough of this. We have no wish to shed blood.”

This is so ridiculous that I would smile if my face didn’t feel so frozen.

What are you here for then?
I want to ask.
Why did you send the sharks to kill us?

“We have a duty to cleanse Ingo of this human contamination,” goes on Ervys. “These –
humans –
have tried to usurp the Crossing of Ingo, which is for the Mer alone. The old fool Saldowr encouraged them, in his blindness.”

I feel Faro start forward, and grab hold of his wrist. “Wait.
Wait,
Faro,” I whisper. The lines of the Mer move uneasily, as if some of them, too, don’t like hearing Saldowr insulted.

“For this reason they must die,” says Ervys, as calmly as if he’s describing the weather. “But because we have no wish to shed blood unless it is absolutely necessary, we will spare you, Faro, even though you are a traitor to Ingo. And your sister, we believe, has been led astray. If you will humbly confess your fault, you may return to us and re-learn what it is to be Mer and to belong truly to Ingo.”

Faro’s body quivers with anger. I reach into the tumult of his mind.
Don’t let him provoke you. We need time. Play for time, Faro.

But I’m afraid he won’t. Faro is so proud. I’ve got to make him understand that we must fight for time, never mind what Ervys or anyone else thinks of us. Every precious second gained will take Byblos closer to Saldowr’s cave. She’ll be rousing the Mer as she goes, and the other dolphins. Everyone who doesn’t already belong to Ervys will hear Byblos’ message. I pour my thoughts into Faro’s mind, fighting past the waves of anger and defiance that are rushing through it.
Listen to me, Faro. You’ve got to listen to me.

Faro pulls his wrist free of my hand and folds his arms. He stares straight at Ervys.

“So you mean no harm to me or my sister?” he asks.

Conor turns to Faro with a furious, disbelieving expression on his face. I try to signal to him that it’s all right, Faro’s got a plan, but I’m afraid of Ervys’s sharp eyes. Surely Conor can’t believe that Faro’s trying to negotiate with Ervys so he can save his own skin?

No. Almost immediately Conor realises that Faro’s playing for time. His expression relaxes, and he turns back to face Ervys with apparent calm. Elvira faces ahead too, her face very pale and her eyes glittering.

“If you yield to us now, you will come to no harm,” says Ervys. “We have no wish to shed Mer blood.” Very deliberately, Faro looks down at the scar on his tail. Ervys follows his gaze and says, “That is in the past. We Mer must fight together. We cannot
be divided against the enemy. Join us, and you will become part of our strength.”

“And yet you taunt me for my blood,” says Faro. I’m stunned. Faro has brought up the subject that he hates so much. Not only that, he’s brought it up in front of Ervys, who tried to shame him for having any trace of human in him at all.

Ervys frowns. He leans forward, scanning Faro’s face. “You forget nothing,” he says.

“Isn’t our nature as Mer to hold on to our memories and pass them to our children’s children?” demands Faro. It’s like a sword fight, only here the blades are words.

“I tell you,” Ervys insists, “if you come to us, we will build a nation in Ingo that will last until our children’s children’s children are ready for Limina. Your sister’s descendants and yours will look back and praise the choice you make today.”

Suddenly Elvira swirls forward. “Do not speak of my children!” she snaps imperiously. Both Ervys and Faro look at her open-mouthed.

“Any children I may have one day are no part of your bargains or of your battles,” she goes on. I have never seen Elvira like this. I’m proud of how bold she is and how fearless. Neither Ervys nor Faro seem to know how to answer her. In one graceful stroke she returns to me and Conor.

“Fantastic, Elvira,” I whisper, and a small pleased smile curves her lips.

Seconds are adding up to minutes. How long can we delay the spear charge? How long can we hold on, waiting for help to
come? I look beyond Ervys to where his ranks of supporters hold their bristling spears. There are so many of them. Strong, full-grown Mer men, and youths who will make up in speed what they lack in muscle. Their faces are stern and they’re all listening intently. I sense that they want Faro to come with them. They will want him because he will draw other young Mer to his side. And they won’t want to spill his blood or Elvira’s unless they have to. There is such a deep taboo against it among the Mer. Ervys sent the sharks to tear us apart, well out of sight of the Mer. If we’re killed, all these men will be witnesses.

“You have a choice,” says Ervys. “Choose Ingo, or choose the human world. One choice brings life and the other death. You will make a fine warrior on my left hand, Faro, and your human blood will be forgotten. You will purify yourself fighting for Ingo.”

“Fighting for Ingo?” asks Faro. “But tell me, Ervys, what if I believe that I am already fighting for Ingo?”

“Then your human blood is deceiving you,” says Ervys smoothly. How clever he is – much cleverer than I thought. “Ingo needs every last one of us,” Ervys continues. “She cries out for you to avenge the wrongs done to her. Poison and murder, the theft of our ancestral places, the pollution of our world, the death of our kindred.”

A low growl of agreement ripples through the Mer ranks as they hear Ervys name their grievances.

“Humans have desecrated Ingo. Humans want to tear the heart out of Ingo. Humans value nothing unless they can use it for their own ends. I am offering you a chance that will not
come again. Do you choose to fight against us or to fight with us?”

Faro is silent. For the first time, I’m not sure what he is thinking. His thoughts are closed to me, his face unreadable. None of us had expected this. We knew Ervys wanted to destroy us but we didn’t think he’d try to do it as subtly as this, by separating the four of us, Mer from human. Faro’s talked to me so many times about the harm done to Ingo by the human world. Ervys is offering him a powerful temptation. I know Faro won’t take it, I’m sure he won’t give in, but there is still a cold knot of fear in my stomach.

“But if I fight with you, Ervys,” says Faro slowly, as if he’s working something out as he speaks, “If I fight with you, Ervys …” He draws out the words, lingering on each one. And just when the knot in my stomach seems to be rising into my throat and choking me, he glances sideways, eyes lowered, and slips me an almost imperceptible wink.

“You see, if I fight with you, Ervys, if I become one of your followers, like …” He breaks off to scan the lines of Mer. “… like Talek there – or Mortarow – and is that Hagerawl I see there? Greetings, Hagerawl! And you, Morlappyer – and Mentenour. It’s a long time since you and I swam with the dolphins, Mentenour. And Bannerys, my friend, we two faced the orca side by side when he forgot that we were Mer—”

“Yes, yes,” says Ervys impatiently. An uneasy stir runs along his ranks. They don’t like Faro naming them and the past they’ve shared. It makes us all seem too real and too close. I suppose
it’s easier to kill people if you can pretend to yourself that they’re not really people at all. But if they know your names, you can’t pretend any more. Faro is even cleverer than Ervys.

“As I was saying,” Faro continues, “if I were to fight with you, then there would be a difficulty which I cannot find my way around. No matter how hard I try, I fail.”

“Perhaps I can help you,” says Ervys. His teeth show, but I don’t think he’s smiling.

“I would have to fight against my friends,” says Faro. His voice quickens. He’s not playing with Ervys any longer: this is real.

“Understand me, Ervys, I am Saldowr’s
scolhyk
and his
holyer.
I will never become a
clopen
for you, or a
harlotwas.
Saldowr says that human blood must cross Ingo to bring peace and healing to Ingo and to the Mer. I say it too.”

I have no idea what a
clopen
is or a
harlotwas,
but I’m pretty sure these are not compliments. Ervys’s face is thunderous. Without another word to Faro, he turns to his followers and shouts, “You have heard him refuse my offer of fellowship. He rejects Ingo, and the Mer are witnesses to it.”

Some of the followers raise their spears threateningly. A low rumble of voices comes from the massed ranks. In a moment, Ervys will give the signal, and they’ll advance on us. They will kill us now. I know it’s going to happen but I still can’t believe it. I’ve always been alive. I don’t know how to imagine anything else.