A Christmas Storm
Part 5
The song-chant went on for hours. Fiona listened, on the edge of understanding. It felt as though the song had become part of her.
After a long time the song seemed to reach a crescendo, and Fiona saw that the Seakin were forming into a procession. Some- including the senior one who had spoken with Fiona- were lighting torches from the globe of fire. That Seakin looked at her and she felt the invitation. Catching Benson and Rajan’s eyes she joined the procession as the torchbearers led the way through the narrow passage and out onto the beach.
When they emerged from the cave the first light of dawn could be seen in the sky ahead of them. The cold wind seemed to strike through her as if she had fallen into icy water. Shivering, Fiona looked out anxiously to see the outline of her ship against the paling sky, lights marking her mastheads. She rode comfortably at anchor, seemingly calm, and Fiona let out a sigh of relief.
The Seakin crowded round the dying remains of the beacon fire, all facing out towards the bay and the distant place where the sun would appear over the horizon. The sky was clear now, and one of Estel’s two moons was visible near the horizon, a silver disc amid the myriad tiny points of starlight, fading now as the light grew.
“Captain?” Chief Rajan muttered, close to her ear. “I’ve got comms with the ship again. All’s well. They're asking if we are in need of any assistance.”
“Tell them we’re fine,” Fiona replied. She glanced at Benson. Like the Seakin, he was gazing out to sea, fully immersed in the moment. The chanting all around them was reaching a crescendo.
Fiona stood, only half aware of the cold and wind. Something in her soul resonated with the almost tangible sense of anticipation, and reached out to join with the Seakin in a moment of strange communion.
All of a sudden the Seakin shouted as one. Fiona heard her own voice crying out wordlessly, and was dimly aware of Benson’s voice joining in as a gleam of yellow appeared over the horizon. The bay was flooded with golden light, and for a few moments it almost seemed as though the sea was on fire.
Silence fell, apart from the sound of waves on the beach. Fiona saw Chief Rajan shift her weight slightly, and then wince as the crunch of pebbles underfoot seemed to cut through the silence like an old-fashioned gunshot.
For a couple of minutes they stood like that, until the sun was fully clear of horizon. Then someone- Fiona thought it was the older Seakin who had spoken with her during the night, but she couldn’t be sure- began a new song. Fiona listened as others joined in, trying to make out the meaning behind it. It was a warm feeling, a calm joy.
The song ended, and the Seakin began to move, approaching one another and bowing until both heads touched in what seemed to be their equivalent of shaking hands, or perhaps a hug. Fiona wondered if she should have done that when the Seakin had welcomed them.
She found Benson was looking up at her. “Thank you for letting me come, captain,” he said.
“I was glad of your company,” Fiona said. She looked from him to Rajan. “And yours, chief. Thank you.”
“It’s been quite an experience,” Rajan said, looking round at the Seakin. “But I’ll be glad to get back to my bunk and breakfast.”
“I think you’re right,” Fiona said. “We should be saying our goodbyes.”
Again she wished she had brought something to give the Seakin. They had offered their welcome, taking Fiona and her companions into a special place and time. It didn’t seem right to leave without making some offering in return.
As if understanding, the Seakin elder had made their way over to her. “We would be glad to welcome you again. But we must not keep you from your own kind.”
“We should be going back to our ship,” Fiona said. “You would be welcome to visit us, if you wished.”
As she said it she wondered what the expression on her officers’ faces would be if she escorted a delegation of Seakin onto the bridge. Lieutenant Newton would have some kind of fit at potential enemies being given that kind of access, and Lieutenant Henry...Fiona could not imagine his reaction.
“Another time, I would be delighted,” the Seakin replied, to Fiona’s relief. “But today is a feast-day, and I must join my kin.” The Seakin bent forward, and reached out a hand to gesture at the piece of transparent rock that Fiona still held.
“Remember, however dark the night, the stars are always there, behind the clouds. How did your story put it? The Light of the World. The true Light that came into the world to bring hope.”
The Seakin bowed its’ head. Fiona bowed too, and this time she felt the creature’s short fur brush gently against her hair. As she straightened up she saw Benson and the creature exchange the same greeting. Rajan only gave a restrained nod, but Fiona thought that even she seemed more relaxed than when they had arrived.
“I hope we meet again,” the Seakin said, then turned as if to usher Fiona and her escorts towards their boat.
***
As Rajan steered the little boat towards the ship Fiona tuned her earpiece to contact the officer of the watch. Lieutenant Henry responded, relief and weariness both audible in his voice.
“Glad to see they’re letting you return to us, captain,” he said. “When we saw how many of them were gathering on the beach we were concerned.”
Fiona wanted to say it had all been under control, but she paused. Somehow anything other than complete honesty seemed unworthy of the night she had just passed.
“Going ashore was a risk,” she replied. “I knew that when I chose to go. But it was the right thing to do. I’ll brief you and the other officers once I’m aboard, but there’s no need to worry about the Seakin. They’re not hostile. So long as we aren’t aggressive we’ll be fine.” A new thought occurred to her. “You’d better have the medics on standby to check us out, just in case we’ve picked up any non-human diseases. I doubt it but we’d better check.” She wondered if she and the others had passed any human diseases to the Seakin. That could potentially be awful. But if the stories were true, humans and Seakin had met before without either suffering. Either they were resistant to human infections, or Seakin medical care was good enough to counter them. The Seakin had not seemed worried, at least.
“Work up a course out of here, please,” Fiona said. “We might as well be on our way while it’s light.”
“Already done, captain,” Lieutenant Henry said. “We’re ready to get under way as soon as you’re on board.”
“Thank you,” Fiona said. “And…Lieutenant? Happy Christmas.”
The medical checks seemed to take a long time, and her brief description of what had happened to the other officers seemed to take even longer. But she was surprised by how genuinely pleased both Lieutenants Henry and Newton were that she was back in one piece. Maybe, Fiona thought, they didn’t think she was so useless after all.
By the time she could retreat to her cabin she scarcely had enough energy to undress before collapsing into her bunk. She wrung out her damp sleeve and felt in her pocket for the piece of quartz that she had put there for safekeeping before coming aboard. As she held it she thought she could hear an echo of the song of the Seakin. She put it on the shelf beside her bunk and looked into it, as she pulled the covers over her cold body, remembering the flickering light of the cave and the warmth of the fire globe. She smiled, and closed her eyes.
It didn’t seem long before she was woken by a loud beeping. She surfaced from a deep dream to find the ship rolling in a heavy sea.
She sat up with an effort and put her comm earpiece in. “I’m here.”
“Sorry to disturb you, captain,” the officer of the watch said in her ear, “But the wind’s getting up again, and while we thought we’d left the islands behind a while back, we’ve just sighted some more coming up to starboard. I recommend you have a look at our position before we find ourselves in another difficult place.
Fiona glanced at the window. The clouds had returned, and the short midwinter day was coming to a gloomy end. This felt uncomfortably similar to the lead up to the storm of the day before. Had she dreamt it all, the Seakin, the cave, the fires? A cold feeling seemed to sink into her as she looked out at the gathering dark.
Then her gaze travelled down to the small lump of transparent rock on the shelf below the window. It had not been a dream.
“I’ll be on the bridge in a couple of minutes,” Fiona said into her comms. Her voice was calm and steady, and for a moment she remembered her mother’s voice sounding like that when comforting her for some minor childhood mishap.
“Thank you, captain,” the officer of the watch replied, and Fiona heard relief in his voice.
She looked down at the quartz again as she dressed hurriedly. What had the old Seakin said? ‘Something to help guide you.’ A reminder that there was always hope, even if you couldn’t see it.
“The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.”
That had been one of her mother’s favourite verses, and Fiona smiled as she remembered her reading it, despite the grief the memory evoked. She put the stone in her pocket, a talisman against her fears, and turned to face the storm.
