Emily Windsnap and the Monster From the Deep (21 page)

“Well, then,” says Neptune, “there is one last thing that may calm its rage and release the child. It comes from an ancient rhyme. It has never been used.”

“Why not?” I ask.

“Once its magic is invoked, I lose my power over the kraken forever. It will never return to its old ways. It will be a passive, weak shell of its former self.” He scowls in disgust.

“But the old days are gone,” I say. “Surely you can see that! We can’t cause death just to bring you jewels.” Then I add more quietly, “Not that you’re likely to even find a whole lot of jewels on that ship anyway.”

“So your ways are
better,
are they?” he snaps. “Only the guilty die in your world, do they? Only for ‘good’ reasons?”

“No, but . . .” My voice trails off.

He waves me away. “But I will not stand by and see this happen. You may be right. Perhaps we will find a different way. Let’s get that girl out of there.”

“What’s the rhyme?” Millie demands.

Neptune lifts his eyes to the sky.

“When old hatred’s rift is mended,

Thus the kraken’s power is ended.”

“That’s it?” my dad yells. “A
nursery
rhyme? That’s ridiculous! You said you were going to sort it out.”

“It’s not just a nursery rhyme, you fool!” Neptune bursts out. “The rhyme itself is not the solution.”

“Why tell us it, then?” I ask.

Neptune turns his angry eyes to me. “You asked how to mend the situation. The rhyme will do it — but only once its words have been acted upon. Only when the hatred ends, when the rift is mended, will the power of the kraken finally cease. Do I make myself clear?”

For a moment, there’s silence, then they’re all shouting again. But I move away. Can I do something?
When old hatred’s rift is mended.
I’ve hated Emily Windsnap for years. Maybe I don’t have to anymore. I could change this, do something good. Can I?

She communicated with the kraken just with her mind, didn’t she? Maybe I can do the same, somehow. I’m going to try it!

I close my eyes and think of Emily, then I force a thought into my mind:

I’m sorry.

I say it over and over again in my thoughts. And then I wait.

Nothing.

What was I expecting? More flashing lights? I should have known nothing would happen. Nothing ever does when I try to do something good.

She’s dead. The kraken’s killed her. And I never had the chance to say I’m sorry.

I can see her in my mind. A picture from years ago. We used to play on the pier together. We were almost best friends. Why did I let her slip away?

Years of sorrow well into a tight ball, pressing against my throat.

But then —

I forgive you.

What was that? Who said it? I look around. No one’s near me. They’re all too busy shouting at each other, arguing over where to find the old hatred that they have to mend. I swipe a hand across my cheek, wiping away tears and seawater as I listen hard.

I forgive you.

It’s Emily. It’s her voice. I can hear her, again and again.

And then the chasm opens. It’s starting again. It’s whirling, throwing water around everywhere, splashing us all. A giant wave heaves toward us, knocking me off the raft.

“MANDY!” Dad yells, lunging for me. He swims away from the current, grabbing the raft and heaving us both back onto it.

“Please, no!” he sobs. “Don’t let me lose you.” He holds me tight, clutching my face to his chest as we kneel together on the raft.

When did my dad last hold me like this?

Over his shoulder, I can see the ship — but it’s on the other side of the chasm. How will we ever get back to it?

As I stare into the raging water, all thoughts are suddenly swept from my mind. The monster’s coming out of the sea again. Its head bursts out through the surface, scratched and veined with black lines, pus oozing out of craterlike holes in its skin. Piercing sounds of agony fill the sky.

Tentacles lash everywhere — it’s out of control, screaming, on and on, the screeching siren sound. Roaring with anger, the monster lashes out again and again. And then I notice something in one of its tentacles. Emily! It’s got her, holding her tight, throwing her into the air, crashing her back down to the surface. She looks so tiny, like a little doll.

Please don’t kill her. . . . She’s my friend.

Instantly, one final piercing scream shoots out from the water, exploding like a bomb, sending color and water everywhere.

And it gradually quiets, slows. Stops. The giant waterfall stops raging. It’s just a giant hole, spreading and cracking in a line through the ocean.

The monster crashes down onto the water and lies still, tentacles like bumpy highways, bridging the long well, jerking slightly, its head half-sunk in the water. The sea fills with color, purple lights flowing out of the kraken, seeping into the water all around us.

No one speaks. We hover in the sea, in silence, focused on the sight in front of us: the monster lying still, no one moving an inch.

We’ve done it. We’ve really done it.

I was having the cruelest dream. It started off as a nightmare. The kraken had me. Trapped and half strangled, I was in its clutches under the water. Then I heard a voice: Mandy, apologizing. I thought,
Yes, let’s make friends. I’m going to die any second now anyway.

And then it changed. I was above the water, in the air, thrown high by the kraken. But it let go of me and I came crashing back down onto the water, sinking, then rising back up to the surface.

The worst part was what happened next.

It was the best part really, but so cruel.

I dreamed my mom and dad were there. They’d come to save me. Shona was with them.
We were best friends again. Even Mandy was there, and they were all asking if I was OK. No one was angry with me. All those eyes, looking at me with concern, helping me, carrying me somewhere, forgiving me for all the awful things I’d done. I wanted to call out to them, touch them, but I couldn’t move; I couldn’t speak.

I can’t remember what happened next.

“Emily?”

“She can’t hear you.”

“She’s opening her eyes!”

Mom? I blinked in the sunlight. “Mom? Is that really you?” I asked shakily.

She leaned over me, rocking as she held me tight. “Oh, Emily,” she whispered into my neck, her voice choked and raw.

As she pulled away, I rubbed my eyes to see Dad’s face next to hers. He was leaning out of the water, reaching up to hold my hand.

Shona was in the water next to him, smiling at me. “You’re okay!” she said.

I looked around: gold and jewels beside me, dolphins at the front. I was in Neptune’s chariot! And I wasn’t on my own. Millie stood at the front,
talking in a low, deep voice. I knew that tone. She was hypnotizing someone! But who?

“Now, moving your tentacle very, very slowly, lift another person out of the water,” she said softly, “and carry them across the chasm, placing them gently on the deck of the cruise ship. Good, good. . . .”

The kraken was doing what she said.

I shuddered as I remembered being in its clutches, the horror of its tentacles around my neck. . . .

“We did it, then?” I asked numbly.

Shona beamed at me. “You’re a heroine, Emily. How could I ever have been angry with you? I’m such a jellyfish at times. Do you realize what you’ve done?”

“I — no. I don’t know.”

I knew one thing, though. Whatever I’d done, I hadn’t done it on my own. I pulled myself up. “Where’s Mandy?”

Shona pointed out to sea. “She’s on her way back to the ship,” she said. “I think they’ll be setting off soon.”

I got up, shakily. I had to see her. My legs wobbled.

Mom grabbed my arm. “Emily, you need to rest.”

“Later,” I said. “I just have to do something.”
Before she could stop me, I dived into the sea. I waited for my tail to form. It wobbled and shook just like my legs had, but I could move it. I could get there. I had to see Mandy.

“I’m coming with you, then.” Shona swam over to my side.

We made our way toward the edge of the Triangle. I gasped as I saw what lay ahead: a gulf of utter black emptiness. My body shuddered violently as I looked down. Across the chasm, the kraken reached a tentacle from one side to the other and out toward the ship, carrying people carefully across.

“I can’t!” Mandy was screaming. “It’s HORRIBLE!”

“Quick! Come on. It’s the only way across.” Her dad held his hand out to her. Mandy climbed up onto the awful slimy bridge. My body shuddered. I couldn’t go near it!

She tiptoed along the tentacle. It was so huge it almost looked like a road, bridging the emptiness below. By the time I got there, she was nearly across.

“Mandy!”

She turned. The tentacle was starting to slip. Two more steps and she’d be there.

“Emily,” she said.

I swallowed. “Thank you.”

Two steps away. She paused, stared at me. And then she smiled. I’d never seen her smile before. Not like that anyway. The only smile I’d ever seen from her was a sarcastic sneer. This one suited her better. It looked nice. Made her look like someone I might want to be friends with.

“Yeah, well,” she said. “I didn’t really do anything.”

“No, you’re wrong.” I smiled back at her. “You did a lot.”

Then she lurched across the tentacle, making her way back to the ship.

They’d gone. All of them back on the ship.

As the kraken lay still, I noticed someone in the water beside it. Tall, proud, and silent, Neptune bent forward to stroke a tentacle, holding it sadly. Then he turned and looked around him.

“Beeston!” he called. Mr. Beeston swam toward us from the ship.

“Have you completed the memory wipes?”

“Every last person, Your Majesty.”

Neptune nodded. “Good work.” Then he clicked his fingers. Instantly, his dolphins squirted
water into the air and dived down to pull the chariot through the water. Neptune clambered aboard.

“It’s over,” he said. “The kraken is falling back into its sleep. Who knows when it will wake now, or if it will even wake at all.” He beckoned Mr. Beeston. “We need someone to take on the responsibility of watching over it.”