Helen Dunmore - The Complete Ingo Chronicles - Ingo, The Tide Knot, The Deep, The Crossing of Ingo, Stormswept

The bees are going home after working all day in the flowers. One of them brushes past me and I wonder if it’s going home to Granny Carne’s hive. It stops, and burrows into a snapdragon flower. I can hear it buzzing and bumbling around inside. Maybe it’s stuck? No, slowly it emerges.

Suddenly an idea strikes me. Maybe, if Conor could talk to the hive, I could talk to one single bee?

“Um – listen, can you hear me?”

But as soon as I start talking to the bee, I know it’s not going to work. I haven’t any of the feeling in me that Conor described. To be honest I don’t believe that I have any earth magic at all. Sure enough, the bee takes no notice of me, and flies off with its load of pollen.

At that moment, a shadow falls over me. I look up quickly. There’s no one there, but Sadie is on her feet, bristling, a growl starting in the back of her throat. And the evening sun’s not so bright. No, the light’s changing. It’s going a strange colour, greenish blue, like the colour of underwater. But the sea can’t come here! Ingo is not allowed to break its bounds, I know that.

“Sadie!”

Sadie backs against me, growling loudly now, pressing herself against my body. She’s terrified, although for some strange reason I’m not afraid. But something’s about to happen, I know it is.

“Myrgh kerenza,” says a voice. It is so close, so familiar, that I can’t believe there is no one else in the garden. “ Myrgh kerenza …”

My mind stretches, and discovers the meaning of the words. Dear daughter . Only two people in the world can call me by that name. “Dad!” I whisper. “Is it really you?” Dad here, in his own garden, at home…

But no one answers. Slowly, the light begins to change. The green-blue tinge of the light fades to the warm gold of evening. Sadie moves away from me, shakes herself all over as if she’s coming out of the water, and barks and barks and barks.

“Quiet, Sadie!”

I listen hard, but all that I can hear are the normal sounds of a summer evening. But I feel warm. It’s a good feeling. I am Dad’s myrgh kerenza . His dear daughter. Somewhere he knows it, and I know it too. After Conor talked to the bees, he knew that Dad was alive. I believed Conor, but I still didn’t really know it.

But now I do.

FOR ISSY CHEUNG

Cover

Title Page

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Beyond the Book

Spotlight on Helen Dunmore

Dolphins Whistling

Tides

Dolphins

Sperm Whales

Travelling Fish

Drowned Villages

Have you Ever Wondered?

Ingo at night. It’s not completely dark, though. The moon is riding high, and there’s enough light to turn the water a rich, mysterious blue.

I am deep in Ingo, swimming through the moonlit water. Faro’s here somewhere, I’m sure he is. I can’t see him, but I’m not scared. There’s just enough light to see by. There’s a glimmer of rock – and a green and silver school of mackerel—

Imagine being lost underwater in total blackness. I’d panic. But it’s dangerous to panic in Ingo. You mustn’t think of the Air. You must forget that human beings can’t live underwater, and then you’ll find that you can.

Faro was here a moment ago, I’m sure of it. He’s keeping himself hidden, but I don’t know why. Even if it was totally dark, I expect he’d still be able to see me through the water. Faro is Mer, and he belongs here. Ingo is his home. And I’m human, and I don’t belong.

But it isn’t as simple as that. There’s something else in me: the Mer blood that came to me and my brother Conor from our ancestors. It’s my Mer blood that draws me to Ingo, beneath the surface of the water. I’d probably drown without my Mer blood – but it’s best not to think of that—

“Faro?” Nobody answers. All the same I know he is close. But I won’t call again. I’m not going to give Faro the satisfaction of thinking that I’m scared, or that I need him. I can survive in Ingo without him. I don’t need to hold on to him any more, the way I did last year when I first came to Ingo. The water is rich with oxygen. It knows how to keep me alive.

I swim on. This light is very strange. Just for a moment, that underwater reef didn’t look as if it was made from rock. It looked like the ruins of a great building, carved from stone thousands of years ago. I blink. No, it’s a reef, that’s all.

Why am I here in Ingo tonight? I can’t remember clearly. Maybe I woke up in the dead of night and heard a voice calling from the sea. Did I climb down the path, down the rocks to our cove, and then slip into the water secretly?

Don’t be so stupid, Sapphire. You don’t live in the cottage any more, remember? You’ve left Senara. You’re living in St Pirans, with Mum and Conor and Sadie. And Roger is never far away. How could you have forgotten all that ?

So how did I get here? I must have come down to Polquidden Beach, and dived into Ingo from there. Yes, that was it. I remember now. I was in bed, drifting off to sleep, and then I felt Ingo calling me. That call which is so powerful that every cell of my body has to answer it. Ingo was waiting for me. I would be able to dive down and down and down, beneath the skin of the water, into Ingo. I would swim with the currents through the underwater world that is so strange and mysterious and yet also feels like home.

Yes, I remember putting on my jeans and hooded top, and creeping downstairs in the moonlight from the landing window. Stealthily unlocking the front door, and then running down to Polquidden Beach, where the water shone in the moonlight and the voice of Ingo was so strong that I couldn’t hear anything else.

And now I’m in Ingo again. Ever since we moved to St Pirans I’ve been trying to get back here, but it’s never worked before tonight. There’s too much noise in St Pirans, too many people, shops, cafés and car parks. But at night, maybe it’s different. Maybe the dark is like a key that turns the lock, and opens Ingo.

“Greetings, little sister.”

“Faro!”

I turn in a swirl of water and there he is.

“Faro! Where’ve you been? Why haven’t I seen you for so long?”

His hand grasps mine. Even in the moonlight, his teasing smile is the same as ever.

“We’re here now, aren’t we? Nothing else matters. Sapphire, I’ve got so much to show you.”

He lets go of my hand and backflips into a somersault, and then another and another until the water’s churning so fast I can’t see him at all. At last he stops in a seethe of bubbles, and grabs my hand again.

“Come on, Sapphire. Time to go. Night is the best time of all.”

“Why is it the best time of all, Faro?”

“Because at night you see things you can’t see by day.”

“What things?”

“You’ll see.”

We join hands. There’s a current racing ahead, the colour of the darkest blue velvet. We plunge forward. The current is so strong that it crushes me. I’m jolting, juddering, struggling in its grip, but I can’t break away. It’s got me, like a cat with a bird in its claws. It’s much too powerful for me, and it knows its own strength.