Grinvill's Tin

5: The passage to Lorna

'You're imagining things - there's nothing there! I'm cold, wet – and I'm starving on top of that. Let's just go.'

'You're wrong, Hamish, I really saw it! We can't give up now ...'

It was lucky that at this moment the freezing wind died down: this softened her brother to look for the passage one more time. All over again they searched the shore and the cliff face.

But nowhere was there any sign of an entrance.

With a sudden clarity Erica said, 'We're doing this wrong. We're too busy using our heads - we need to stop thinking so hard. Let's just try and stay still for a moment. I'm sure the island will reappear and show us its own way of getting to it...'

'Let's hope it shows itself to me as well this time...' Hamish muttered, rubbing his hands hard. He had peeled off his soggy gloves and shoved them in his pockets; his glasses were obscured with droplets of melted snow which he'd only half managed to wipe away. He looked sodden and dejected. But he did as his sister suggested and stopped pacing the beach. Motionless, through smeared lenses his gaze fell on their trails of footprints which stretched out in all directions in the snow.

Erica also gazed at the snaking lines of prints: somehow they'd become an intricate maze and staring at the pattern was mesmerising. It helped her to forget about looking for an entrance in the cliff; to forget the damp weight of her coat; to forget the biting pain in her fingers and toes; to forget even that her brother had in his rucksack an ancient Stone and a mysterious map.

Yet although she had entered a dream-like state, her senses remained clear and alert. From the corner of her eye she could see that Hamish was also entranced by the labyrinth of prints and like her he was standing and waiting.

The quiet that entered Erica's head was like a physical presence and in the midst of this quiet the island loomed once more. Shadowy at first, then clearer. She could see the same mountains she had noticed before. She could spy fine lines of blue, which she knew to be streams. She could also see squares of green, which she knew to be meadows and fields. And then, in the pure, brilliant light which almost seemed to shine from the island itself, she could pick out cattle grazing on the grass.

Her heart raced - for now at her feet she could also detect a passage just below the surface of the sea. It led directly from where they stood and went right up to the shore of the island. Sea water was cascading off it and it wasn't long before the stony pathway was completely clear.

'Hamish – do you see what I see?'

Erica needn't have asked: he was already stepping onto the path, and was looking straight ahead at where the island lay. Erica followed him. As she put one foot in front of the other, she also kept her eyes fixed on the island. Or at least she tried to, but to her frustration she was distracted by images of her dad which kept coming into her mind. She tried to push them away so that she could keep the island in focus, yet each time they returned.

As this struggle went on a sharp pain grew in Erica's hand: the sensation was intense, nothing like the itching feeling she usually got. The shock of it made her lose her balance and she nearly fell off the path into the churning waters. Hamish noticed her stumble and just in time he pulled at her coat to steady her. The thought then crystallised in her mind and became a certainty: getting nearer to Lorna was bringing them closer to their lost father. But she said nothing to Hamish: she felt drained from the private battle she was conducting and she didn't want to explain how she felt to her brother. All she wanted was to reach the island - she would tell him later.

* * *

The passage led to a stony strip of beach and they walked along this until it broadened into a natural bay, a wide sweep of blue water sparkling in the sun. It was a sheltered, peaceful spot and a perfect landing place for any approach by boat. Yet despite how pretty it looked, and despite how warm it was on Lorna, Erica pulled her coat around her tightly.

'Something terrible happened at this spot,' she said. 'I can feel it.'

'Me too,' said Hamish.

'What are we going to find here?' Erica's voice fell to a whisper. 'Remember how time slips and slides on Lorna? What if we're back at the time when Lorna was cursed!'

'Shhh,' said Hamish. 'Don't say anything else. We need to get behind those rocks!'

* * *

They peered from behind the boulders at the spindly black figure which was now standing on the beach; a painful black scratch across the quiet curved bay. They watched as it raised a fist and shook it at the island, and they saw how the creature snarled and spat out his words. The strong wind which had sprung up since his appearance blew away most of what he said, but short snatches were audible:

'... land shall be lost forever.... will be as shadows... and good will be evil...'

Then he strode away.

He disappeared straight into the water, strange fin-like shapes on his neck protruding and extending as he did so. Before he vanished completely, though, a great bulky shape rose up from the sea. It appeared to be a huge whale: it opened its giant mouth and swallowed him up. The enormous monster sank as silently as it had risen, and within seconds there was not even a ripple on the water to show that it had ever been there.

Thanks for reading this chapter, please come back and read Chapter 5 on Sunday.

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