The Complete Ingo Chronicles: Ingo, The Tide Knot, The Deep, The Crossing of Ingo, Stormswept. Helen Dunmore
think about letting us have Sadie. “I wanted Roger to get hurt,” I whisper. “Oh, Conor, why have I got so much badness in me?”
As I say these words a gull plunges, screaming, from the cliff. We both turn. It’s coming straight for us, diving, wings sleek against the air currents. Its beak is open. Down it comes, crying out in its fierce gull voice. It swerves above our heads, so close that my hair lifts in the wake of its claws. Up it soars, high into the blue, then it turns and positions itself for a second dive. Again it screams out in its wild language as it balances on the air. And down it comes again, passing my ear with a shriek.
“It’s trying to tell us something.”
“What?”
“If only I could understand it.”
But maybe… maybe… if I really try… I could make out what the gull is saying. It wants me to know, that’s why it’s diving so close. Here it comes again.
“I can’t hear what you’re saying,” I shout above the gull’s shrieks. “Please, please try to say it so that I can understand—”
The gull’s screams batter my ears again, but all I get from it is noise.
“Please try, please. I know you’re trying to tell me something important…”
And then it happens. I am through the skin of English, and into another language. Suddenly the new language is all around me. The jumble of wild shrieks changes to syllables, then words. The gull brakes in the air and hovers just above us. His wings beat furiously and his claws dig into the air for balance. He fixes me with a cold yellow eye.
“Go to Ingo. Go to Ingo NOW.”
And he spreads his wings and swoops low over the water, out to sea.
“He was going crazy about something, wasn’t he?” says Conor. “Wouldn’t it be great if we could understand what birds are saying.”
“He wants us to go into Ingo,” I say.
Conor stares. “You’re making it up.”
“You know I’m not. Look at me. Am I lying?”
Conor scrutinises me. At last he says reluctantly, “No. But you could be crazy too.”
“The gull said, Go to Ingo now.”
“Then it’s definitely mad. We can’t go into Ingo on our own.”
“I think we can. I think it’s the same as understanding what the gulls say. If you want to enough, you can. And as soon as we’re in Ingo we can get out to the Bawns. The rips won’t hurt us. You can’t drown when you’re in Ingo.”
“You could understand the gull, Saph. It just sounded like a gull screeching to me. I’ve only ever been in Ingo with Elvira. Holding her wrist all the time.”
“You mean… Do you mean that maybe I could get into Ingo without help from any of the Mer, but you couldn’t?”
Conor’s eyes flash with anger. “You don’t think I’d let you go into danger on your own, do you? If you go, Saph, I’m going too.”
Everything is turning around. All our lives it’s been Conor who does everything first and best. Riding a bike, riding a horse, swimming, surfing, going out in the boat with Dad, climbing to the top of the cliffs. I’ve always been coming along behind, with Conor turning back to help me. And now, for the first time, there’s something that’s easier for me than it is for Conor.
Granny Carne said that inheritances don’t come down equally, even to brother and sister. Powerful Mer blood, she said. I hope it’s powerful enough for both of us. If Conor comes into Ingo with me, it’s up to me to make sure that he’s safe.
“We’ll go together,” I say. “We’ll hold on to each other’s wrists, like we do with Faro and Elvira. Then we’ll be OK.”
“Sapphire, don’t be stupid,” says Conor. “How do you think we’re going to dive like that? You don’t have to pretend. I’m the one who’ll have to hold on. You could breathe on your own, couldn’t you? You told me.”
“Two are stronger than one,” I say. It’s what Mum always says, when she tells us to stick together. I know how hard it must be for Conor. He’s the older brother, I’m the little sister. But now he’s got to trust me. I’ve got to take us both into Ingo and bring us back safe. I think I can do it. I’m almost sure I can do it. But is “almost sure” good enough, when Conor’s going to be depending on me? I’ve got to. We have no choice.
“Yeah, two are stronger than one,” says Conor. “And if you let me drown, I’m telling Mum.”
We both laugh and it breaks the tension. I take a deep breath.
“I suppose we’d better—”
“Let’s go,” says Conor.
We walk forward over the sand. There’s the sea I’ve longed for, cool and transparent and calm. When I was up at Granny Carne’s cottage I felt as if I’d die if I didn’t get to the sea.
And here it is, and here I am. And I’m afraid. My hands are sticky with sweat and my heart bumps inside me so loudly that I’m sure Conor can hear it. I’ve been longing for Ingo so much, but now that I’m standing on the borderline I want to turn around and run until I’m back in the cottage with my duvet wrapped over my head. I feel sick and I can’t breathe properly.
Give up, says a voice in my head. Go back. You don’t even like Roger. Why risk your life and Conor’s to help him? You know how dangerous it is. Go home now. No one will blame you. No one will know. You’re only a child. Roger’s a grown man, he can take care of himself.
Yes. It’s true. It’s Roger’s fault for coming here. It’s not my responsibility. I can tell Conor that it’s too dangerous and I haven’t got the power to take him into Ingo. Nobody will ever know if it’s true or not.
But then I hear Granny Carne. Of course I can’t really hear her, but I remember her words so strongly that it’s like her voice speaking in my ear: You’ve got Mer blood in you, Sapphire. It’s come down to you from your ancestors. You can do it.
Granny Carne will know that I had a choice, and I went home. And Conor will know too. And most of all, I will always know, and I won’t be able to pretend to myself. I can try to help Roger or I can abandon him, and let him blunder into the Bawns with all of Ingo against him.
Roger tried to help me. We talked about Sadie in the kitchen and Roger understood about her. He told Mum he thought we were old enough and responsible enough to have a dog. Maybe Mum won’t ever let me have Sadie, but if she doesn’t, it’s not because Roger didn’t try.
I can try to help Roger, or not. The choice is mine.
As soon as I say these words to myself, the noise of blood rushing in my ears doesn’t frighten me so much. I’m not panicking any more. The choice is mine. I can make it.
I look around, and spot another gull on the rock where Faro sat the first time I saw him. The gull leans forward, watching us, neck outstretched and beak wide, the way gulls do when they’re warning you off their territory. This time I understand straight away.
“NOW!” shrieks the gull. “Go to Ingo NOW.”
Ingo is angry. We know it as soon as we are beneath the skin of the water, as soon as the pain of entering Ingo fades enough for us to notice anything else. Currents twist around us like a nest of snakes. The sea boils and bubbles. Down and down we go, spiralling, while white sand whirls around us, beaten by the underwater storm. The rage of the sea catches us and blows us before it like leaves in the wind.