Storm Singing and other Tangled Tasks Read Online Free PDF Page A

than to start an argument when they were already in trouble.
    “Nonsense, Sinclair.” Rona’s mum kept her voice calm. “Roxburgh was already on verse three of six permitted verses when the shouting started. If he had been going to sing up a storm, waves and wind would have started to build by the second chorus.”
    Sinclair stepped right up to her, his bare feet gripping the slippery rocks, and snarled at her.
    The huge scar-faced selkie barged between them. “Now Sinclair. You know that a true Storm Singer can cope with distractions, even attacks, during a song …”
    “Roxburgh did cope! He sang wonderfully, no matter how noisy these land creatures were!”
    “He sang through the disturbance, but he didn’t sing up a storm.”
    “Strathy,” Sinclair appealed to the host, “you know my son would have more chance of winning the Sea Herald contest than that little lassie Rona.” He shoved his tall gangly son forward.
    Strathy shook his head. “We do not choose our Storm Singer for size, speed or strength, but by the power of their song. That policy has given us many successful Sea Herald contestants.”
    Sinclair opened his mouth to make another objection to Rona’s victory, but the host growled, “Stop! Rona won. Roxburgh did not. We are not changing the rules. We are not changing the result. Instead we are asking what these two were doing on the cliff, and deciding what should be done with them.”
    The semicircle of seal folk turned and looked at Helen and Yann.
    Strathy said, “Horse boy. Human girl. Explain your highly insulting behaviour.”
    Helen and Yann hadn’t discussed what they would say, nor who would say it. Yann glanced down at Helen, and she pointed with a tiny gesture back at him. It wasn’t wimping out, she told herself, because her ignorance about selkie etiquette could make things worse. Anyway, words were Yann’s music.
    “Esteemed elders of the seal people,” the centaur said, speaking far more formally than he did nowadays with Helen and his other friends, “please do us the honour of accompanying us to the scene of the disturbance. I will explain our undignified behaviour on the way to the clifftop, where I can show you evidence of what we fought there.”
    Sinclair objected to following a centaur’s orders, but Rona’s mum was eager, and Strathy and the other elders were curious, so Yann led the selkies in their shimmering grey cloaks up the narrow path. He described what he’d seen on the beach and why they’d gone up the cliff. Helen trailed behind, hoping to avoid telling any of the story herself.
    As she reached the top of the path, she heard a voice whisper her name. She whirled round. Rona was just behind her, smiling hugely. “Thank you, Helen! I would never have won without you.”
    “Yes, you would. You’re the best songwriter and best singer I’ve ever heard.”
    “I wasn’t a Storm Singer until you came. I only sang up a storm because I used the wind and waves as the rhythm of the song. That was your idea.”
    “I was only trying to improve the song, not magically manipulate the weather. Why didn’t you tell me you were hoping to sing up a storm?”
    “The clue’s in the name of the contest. Storm Singing! I thought you knew.”
    “Rona, stop assuming I know this fabled beast stuff.”
    “Even if you didn’t know what I was trying to do, you still helped me win, and I will always thank you for that.” Rona hugged Helen, her strong swimmer’s arms squishing Helen’s hands to her side.
    “Ow!”
    “Sorry. Let me see.” Rona looked at the pink welts on Helen’s hand. “You need to keep this cool.”
    “I’ve already done that. You should have seen them before.” Helen frowned at the faded marks. The storm might have washed away the evidence on the cliff, and her first aid was soothing away the evidence on their skins.
    “So tell me what did this to you,” Rona said, “and why Yann nearly fell off the cliff.”
    As they walked to the spy’s