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

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.

      This is like the moment when you get on to the most terrifying ride of all at a theme park and you’re strapped in, helpless to escape. The ride begins to move and you see a mocking smile on the face of the attendants and you realise that they don’t care at all. But Ingo is no theme park where people lose their jobs if they kill the customers. Anything can happen here. If I die now, no one will ever know. They’ll only say that I drowned, like they said Dad drowned.

      Don’t panic, Sapphire. Let the current take you where it wants. Wherever you go, you’ll be safe. Reassuring thoughts echo in my head and I’m not sure for a moment if they are my thoughts or Faro’s. Are we sharing our thoughts again, the way we did last summer? Relax, let the current take you. Don’t resist it, or you’ll get hurt. Jolts of force shake me. I’m afraid, I’m afraid, I can’t breathe—

      Don’t ever think of breathing or not breathing. Air is another country and it means nothing here. Think of now. Think of Ingo. Here. Now.

      The words beat in my head like a pulse. Here. Now. Let go of everything and see what comes to you. I’ve done it before, but it’s never been as hard as this. Ingo at night is so dark, so vast. Not a safe playground but a wild kingdom. You could so easily lose yourself here. A tingle of pure fear runs through my body. No, no, Sapphire, that’s not the way. Panic is making you deaf and blind.

      I stop fighting. It feels like coming out of a cage. I am free and safe in the heart of the current. There’s Faro, a little way ahead of me. His tail gleams blue in the moonlight. I can’t see his face, or his hands, or any of him that seems human. Only the strong tail, like a seal’s tail, driving Faro through the water. We are travelling faster than I’ve ever dreamed of swimming, flying through Ingo in darkness.

      By the time the current swerves away from us, throwing us off into calmer water, we must be miles and miles from land. I’m exhausted. It seems that even Faro’s tired, because he pulls my hand and we swim down and down to the sea bed. Here the sand is deeply ridged, and we sink into one of its sheltered hollows to rest. It is almost totally dark down here.

      “Where are we, Faro?” My voice echoes strangely.

      “Close to the Lost Islands.”

      “Why are they lost?”

      “They’re not all lost. Some of them still rise above the surface. There are still humans living there. But the largest islands came to us hundreds of years ago, in a single night.”

      “Came to you? What do you mean? Was there a battle?”

      “Yes, there was a battle, but not with guns or swords. The water rose and the islands fell to Ingo.”

      “But, Faro, what happened to the people who were living there?”

      “Some were lost,” says Faro with cool indifference. “Some took to their boats and made for the nearest islands that were still above water.”

      “Why did the sea rise?”

      “It was time for it to rise, I suppose,” says Faro. I can’t see his face clearly in the gloom, but his voice is maddeningly calm.

      “Faro, please don’t talk like that. As if everything is – well – fate. We should be able to make things better. Change the future. Those islanders could have built a sea wall, couldn’t they, to keep the sea out? That’s what people do in Holland. They build dykes and ditches. They don’t drown. They’re brilliant engineers.”

      “So I’ve heard,” says Faro thoughtfully. “They’re very obstinate, those people in Holland.”

      “The point is, Faro, that countries don’t have to drown. Holland proves it. It’s the other way round there. They reclaim land from the sea. Did you know that?”

      “For now, they take land from Ingo,” Faro reflects, “but that doesn’t make it theirs. What works today may not work tomorrow. Weren’t you saying just now that we should be able to make things better, and change the future? I agree. It would make things better for the Mer if Holland were to grow… smaller.”

      “But why, Faro? Why? Isn’t Ingo strong enough already? The oceans are greater than the land. Don’t you know that?”

      Dad taught me that. He took me way out in his boat, the Peggy Gordon, until I could clearly see how small the land looked, and how insignificant, compared to the hugeness of the sea.

      “Why do you want more