Magnus Fin and the Selkie Secret by Janis Mackay Page B

ocean’s most dangerous quests. He had been there when Magnus Fin defeated the false king, and he had guided him towards discovering what was poisoning the selkies last autumn. And how, Fin wondered, tearing up the very fronds the crab had suggested, did something so small come to be so powerful? He was King Neptune’s right-hand man.
    Tarkin was guarding the patch of sand with two spades at the ready when Fin reappeared, bent under what seemed a mountain of seaweed. “Ugh!” Tarkin held his nose. “It pongs.”
    “But it’ll protect us.” Magnus Fin set the bounty of kelp down on the sand and picked up his spade. “You ready to dig?”
    Tarkin pulled on the bright orange rubber gloves. “Sure thing, buddy.” Then he too picked up his spade. They started to dig.
    Dusk was fast turning into night. The first stars came out and the silvery moon rose while Fin and Tarkin jabbed their heavy garden spades into the damp sand. The faster Fin dug, the slower Tarkin dug, until his enthusiasm evaporated and he stopped altogether.
    “Look, I dunno about this. I think we gotta act sensible.”
    Magnus Fin threw back another spadeful of sand then stared at his friend. “Sensible? I’ve been so sensible for a whole week. I was the star pupil. I’ve almost read a whole book. Anyway, Tark, you’re the one who’salways telling me to go for it – be adventurous. I thought you couldn’t stand sensible?”
    Tarkin looked glumly into the hole, as though imagining some infectious fiend down there. “Yeah, well, I can change my mind.” The spade hung limply in his hand.
    “Come on, Tark. You’ve seen how dead the sea looks, or else wild like it’s angry. It’s not right. And if you’re going to be friends with me you’ve got to get used to stuff like this. Think about it – Neptune needs this back. Without it the sea’ll be no place for any creature to live. No place for your mermaid.”
    At the mention of the mermaid Tarkin’s enthusiasm returned. “OK,” he said, lifting the spade, “when you put it that way, I’m with you. Let’s dig!”
    Tarkin grinned, and dug. Any doubts and fears soon turned to excitement. Simply being out on the beach under the slowly darkening sky, digging for treasure, was adventure enough. They flung up damp sand. In no time they hit metal. Fin fumbled for the torch and shone it down the hole.
    “Look, Tarkin, that’s it.”
    Tarkin peered down the hole, squinting to see. “It doesn’t look much like treasure.”
    Fin flashed the torch around, showing up rusty bumps and studs. Tarkin was right: it didn’t look like treasure at all. Maybe Miranda had got it all wrong? Fin tried to stay positive.
    “Anyway, we have to dig round it then bring it up.” With his dad’s big garden spade he could work quickly. He sliced the damp sand, circling the thing, which wasn’t as huge as he’d at first thought. “We’ve goneright round it,” he announced, panting with the effort. “OK, Tark, I’m going to dig under it then lever it up.”
    But levering it up wasn’t easy. The thing was heavy. Tarkin lay down his spade and joined Fin, leaning down on the wooden handle to force it upwards.
    “It’s coming, buddy,” Tarkin shouted, forgetting about the silence of dusk. “Oh boy, oh boy – it’s coming up!”
    “Hold it tight, Tark. Don’t wobble. We don’t want it to fall back down!”
    They succeeded in raising the thing a few inches, then a few more. “It’s not huge,” Fin yelled, “but it’s kind of heavy.”
    “It’s like one of those old boxes people used to put coal in,” Tarkin yelled. “Easy does it, we’ve got to swing the spade up and lower it onto the sand. You ready, buddy?”
    “I’m ready.”
    Leaning down on the handle they tilted the spade up. The thing was coming into view, though in the dusk all they could see was a dark shape. Panting, they swung the spade slowly round then lowered the metal box onto the sand.
    “Right, Tark,” Fin cried, “we’ve