Storm Singing and other Tangled Tasks by Lari Don Page A

seawater. The tethered rowing boat was higher, and the mermaids’ table was floating closer. She looked back at Tangaroa. This was the daftest belief she’d heard since she’d met her fabled friends. How could she be polite about it?
    “But, Tangaroa,” she said gently, “why do you believe that random rhymes from scared sailors will get you home? How could they possibly know which Pacific island you’re from?”
    Tangaroa laughed. “Well done, land girl! You’ve taken five minutes to work out what took me years, and what my tribe still hasn’t recognised. I agree. Why should people who’ve never sailed our home waters have tribal memories of our way home? These rhymes,” he slapped his blue arm, “are a distraction. I’m looking for another way home. The deep sea powers must know where we come from. If I win the contest, then serve them well as herald, perhaps they will tell me.”
    “So you collected all those rhymes to become the blue men’s contestant, even though you don’t believe in them?”
    He nodded. “That’s why I’m determined to win. I’m not going to let a seal girl or a fishtail stop me getting home!”
    Helen frowned at him. “You’re from an island. You have legs not fins. And your elders think human memories can tell you the way home. Are the blue men of the Minch human?”
    “Of course. We’re as human as you.”
    “But you live in the sea!”
    “We live by the sea, not in the sea. There are lots of caves on the Scottish coast. Our elders believe we won’t find the true way if we move too far from currents and tides. We don’t sleep at sea, or tattoo there. We spend less time in the water than the selkies, and much less than the mermaids, but we do consider ourselves a sea people.”
    “Why don’t you freeze in this water, and why doesn’t your skin wrinkle and peel?”
    Tangaroa lowered his voice. “Seal oil! It makes us waterproof. But don’t tell your friend Rona!”
    He’d been so open with his answers that Helen asked the question which everyone else had avoided. “Tangaroa, what’s the second task?”
    He didn’t look shifty or change the subject. He just grinned his big fierce grin. “You don’t want to know, or you won’t think your selkie friend is so cuddly and cute!” He laughed. “But don’t worry, you’ll find out soon enough.”

Chapter 12
    Helen still didn’t have an answer about the second task, but as the selkies served dessert, she noticed the water had risen even further. Now that the mermaids’ table could float closer, she might get answers about her almost fatal hairstyle.
    Anyway, she didn’t like selkie puddings. They were too salty. She got up from the bench and sat right at the edge of the water. Yann stood behind her. Helen was glad he was there. It was daft to be more nervous about speaking to mermaids than about sitting beside blue loons. There was no real evidence the mermaids meant her any harm, whereas the blue loons had definitely tried to tip her out of a boat.
    Maybe that’s why she was nervous. The blue loons were dangerous, but they were completely open about sinking boats. Whereas if the mermaids had tried to drown her, they were now simpering like it had never happened.
    Rona sat beside Helen. “I’ve spent all three fish courses listening to everyone’s top tips for winning the Sea Herald contest, so I asked them all if they saw the mermaids leave during the speeches. No one saw any guest leave the feast.”
    “But if no one left this cave,” Helen said, “how could someone have attacked me? Is that tunnel the only way into the small cave?”
    “Seawater gets in and out of the side cave through a wide crack in the rock. So any sea being who could squeeze through a hole this size …” Rona’s hands drew a circle a little wider than her shoulders, “… could get in from the open sea.”
    Helen looked at the mermaids. “When the water was lower, their table was further from the crowd, nearer the sea arch. So