14 The Box

Cal stared over Jake's shoulder into the box. "How did it open like that?" she gasped. "How did you do it?"

Inside was a bundle wrapped in ragged, blue sailcloth. Jake hesitated. "It's your box," he said. "You look." "No," answered Cal quietly. "It never opened for me." They glanced at each other. Cal suddenly felt shy of this Creeper boy. Somehow the box must have been waiting for him. As she'd guessed, their lives had not mingled by chance - they'd been drawn together by the power of the fatestream. But why? Who was he?

Jake was nervous; he'd been so sure there was something for him in the box he was afraid now of being disappointed. Tentatively he drew back the cloth.

Beneath it was a shimmering bubble of air filling the whole body of the box - and inside that was another, smaller bundle, this one bound with silver cloth.

Cal touched the bubble gently with her fingertip. It was rippled and billowed, but didn't burst.

"I think we need to break it in the air," said Jake, thoughtfully, "in the Overbreath. Looks like whatever is in it has been put there to keep dry. We might damage it underwater."

"It's a long way up from here," said Cal. "Maybe we can catch a ride." Once more she swam in a circle as she'd done before to call Skimmer.

"Hey, what about Tangler?" said Jake, not taking his eyes off the box. "We don't want to be ambushed again."

"He won't come after us," said Cal, "he thinks he's guarding his treasure!"

To Cal's delight her call was answered by a huge sunfish. It was a curious, moon-shaped creature, about nine feet long, with almost no tail at all. It paddled slowly towards them, humming a low call sign. Cal replied with a swoop and dip of sound that reminded Jake of the flight of a bird. The sunfish swam up to her and Cal stroked its head. Then, seeing the box, it slipped away from her hands and came to nose about. Jake smiled and nudged the gentle creature with his shoulder. As it got more inquisitive and started to prod the bubble, the shut the lid and pushed it away.

Cal gestured towards the surface. The sunfish circled just above their heads, started to rise and then pushed.

"It's waiting for us," said Cal. Jake wrapped the box in the tarpaulin, knotting it this time into a rough sling which Cal hung over her shoulder. She led Jake to the sunfish. "Take hole of her fin."

Jake reached out. To his surprise the huge fish's body was covered with slimy mucus, but once they had a grip the sunfish begin to swim upwards.

When they neared the surface Jake found the dappled sunlight on the water almost blinding. The sunfish gently tipped them off and paddled away to find herself a quiet spot to bask.

Cal broke through to the Overbreath first. She spat the water from her mouth and took a long breath of the invigorating air. Then she shook her head, spraying millions of Dimond droplets into the blue sky, shut her eyes and raised her face to the warm sun.

But Jake hesitated, rocking in the rhythm of the water below. When Cal realized he hadn't followed she flipped upside down and dived back beside him.

"Come on," she said, sensing his anxiety. "We'll be safe here for a while. Look, so many creatures in the water - there are no Bloodfin here." Sure enough the sunfish lay drifting on her side, unperturbed by a pair of gulls resting on the water nearby and a small shoal of Pollack idling along below.

"It's not that," muttered Jake, "it's just, it's sort of - going back."

"You ned a breath," said Cal softly. "It feels good, I promise. And we can look inside the box up there."

Jake shook away his apprehension and with a sharp kick of his legs made for the light. As he breached the surface he flung his arms above his head. A rush of oxygen shot through his body. He bobbed light-headed in the water, gasping and blinking; hanging between two worlds. The warm, salty air smelt good. The gulls squawaked loudly and he screeched back.

For a while Jake and Cal said nothing, simply enjoying the sunlight and the wonderful feeling of fresh breath in their lungs.

Jake studied the horizon. He made out a narrow ribbon of land where white cliffs rose from a rocky coast, notched with tiny inlets and coves. "It's a long swim to the shore from here," he said, "especially with that box." But Cal pointed in the opposite direction. No more than ten yards away was a raft of matted seaweed and driftwood. "There's a kelp paddy," she said. "Perfect."

Far out at sea some large pieces of timber had become tangled up with lengths rope and netting, all lashed together with tones of rotting kelp, ripped from its roots in a storm. Now the whole floating mass had drifted into the shallows, sheltering crowds of small fish in its trailing undercarriage. Despite the smell of decay and the haze of buzzing flies Jake and Cal heaved themselves into the paddy. Luckily it took their weight, rocking and creaking with the well.

Jake opened the box. Together they pulled away the sailcloth and Jake burst the bubble with his finger. Carefully Cal lifted out the small, silver bundle. It glinted in the sun. "What's inside?" Jake's stomach knotted in anticipation. He had no idea what to expect, but it must be something valuable, wrapped so finely.

Cal teased the folds of cloth apart and the silky fabric slipped through her fingers, so fine and fluid that it rippled across her hand like a tiny waterfall.

"But what's inside?" cried Jake. "Nothing!" said Cal in dismay.

Nothing! Jake's heart sank. Nothing. He felt a fool. But Cal was transfixed. She ran the cloth through her hands, feeling its deftly worked texture. Then she ripped Jake's arm. "I was wrong," she murmured. "I think this is a message - it is - a message from my mother! Look - I've never seen knots so tiny. Oh Jake, these threads, they're length of hair!"

Not Jake stroked the astonishing message with excitement. How could anyone tie knots like these? He looked closely and saw the intricate design of plaits and braids woven together. "What dose it say?" he whispered. Cal turned the message to find the beginning. The she took the corner in her fingers, shut her eyes and begin to read. ="This is a message for the one who open the box," she said slowly. "That's me." Jake's heart leapt. Cal continued, = "And for the one who kept it. Syllable's, your mother speaks to you across the tide of time."

Her voice quavered. "Go on, urged Jake. What dose she say?" He felt jealous that he could not read the message himself. Cal read on...