Magnus Fin and the Selkie Secret by Janis Mackay

unlikely.
    It was fish for lunch that day and peas. Tarkin was the only boy in school to ask for a whole lemon to squeeze on his fish. Fin tried to fork his peas but they kept rolling away. The dining room was a din. Fin toyed with his food, waiting till most people had gone, then he leant across the table.
    “You said you’d help me. So, fancy a bit of treasure digging?”
    Tarkin speared a slice of tomato. “Sure. Like, what kinda treasure you got in mind?”
    Fin leant even further over and whispered so loudly he practically hissed, “The thing in the sand – we need to wrap it in kelp.”
    Tarkin chewed his tomato then leant towards Fin. “I thought we were just gonna leave it and forget about it? Mission Act Normal is working. Sargent thinks you’re the best. He thinks you are so normal. And I need to protect my mermaid. Don’t want folk frightening her off.” Tarkin looked over his shoulder. The dinner lady was glaring at him.
    “Hurry up, laddies,” she shouted, “we’ve not got all day to wait on you.”
    Fin forgot his peas. “Meet me at sunset tonight. I’ve got two garden spades. We can use those.” Fin spotted Tarkin’s reluctance. “Oh come on, Tark. It’ll be fun. And I’ve got rubber gloves. Look, it’s important. Really important.” Magnus Fin put his plate on his tray and shifted in his seat, ready to stand up. “But if you don’t want to help, I’ll do it on my own.”
    Tarkin put his plate onto his tray, bit his lip then nodded. “OK, buddy. Count me in. It just freaked meout. Your hand was gross. But sure, I’ll help. Just don’t forget the gloves.”
    “I won’t. I’ve got everything we need. I got it all ready last night.”
    “So if I’m gonna help do I get in on the secret? Like, what is it, this thing in the sand?”
    Magnus Fin glanced at the ruddy-faced dinner lady who was drumming her fingers on the counter at the hatch. Fin looked sideways at Tarkin. “King Neptune’s stolen treasure,” he whispered, then rose and hurried off with his tray.
     
    That afternoon in school minutes seemed like hours. Magnus Fin had forgotten all about Robbie Cairns and had fallen back into his old habit of gazing out of the window. Absent-mindedly he doodled hammerhead sharks on the cover of his jotter. He didn’t put up his hand once to answer a question, and when Mr Sargent asked Magnus Fin to stand up and read a poem, he stuttered, went red, didn’t know how to pronounce “chapman billies” and had no idea what “drouthy” meant.
    Mr Sargent looked crestfallen. His star pupil wasn’t shining now. Fin bit his nails and hung his head. “You disappoint me,” was all Mr Sargent could say. “Sit down.”
    What are you thinking about?
    Fin glanced over his shoulder. Aquella winked at him. Cos it’s certainly not “Tam O’Shanter”, that’s for sure!
    Fin giggled. Mr Sargent glared at him. “First you make a complete hash of our national poet,” bellowed the teacher, “then you sit there and titter. Well, it’s not funny. Not one bit!”
    Magnus Fin tried to pull himself together. Detention was the last thing he needed on this day of all days. He stared down at his desk, but still Aquella hounded him, jabbing her thoughts into his mind.
    Something’s going on. What is it?
    Fin’s mind raced. I’ve been asked to protect the thing in the sand. We’re going to the beach tonight at dusk. It could be Neptune’s stolen treasure. I would have told you, but your skin… You can’t risk being close to the sea. The tide will be up. I didn’t want to give you more to worry about.
    I knew it! I had a hunch. Something’s wrong, isn’t it?
    I’ll tell you later. Except selkie thought-speak didn’t manage secrets well. Aquella had already picked up on the thought he was trying not to think: King Neptune’s dying.
    She gasped.
    “Are you alright, Aquella?” Mr Sargent asked, now knitting his bushy eyebrows in her direction.
    Aquella coughed and stammered, “Ye-yes. Ah,