The Tide Knot Read Online Free PDF Page A

the side of our boat. I sit forward, tense, waiting. Something is about to happen. Every sound, even the noises of the sea and the people cheering the dolphins, seems to die away.
      One of the dolphins leaps high out of the water.
      “She’s seen us. She wants to talk to us,” I say under my breath to Conor. Mal glances at me.
      Conor turns casually and murmurs in my ear, “Be careful, Saph.”
      Will stands up, legs braced for balance, camera in hand.
      “Should be able to get some good shots from here,” he says.
      I was wrong. It isn’t quiet at all . Sound floods across the water in a wave. The dolphins are talking to one another.
      There are a dozen voices, weaving together, clicking and whistling, fil ing the sea with a net of sound. Cautiously, so that my weight balances Will ’s, I stand up too.
      “Careful, Saph,” says Conor again.  
      They want to come to the surface. They want to talk to us.
      What is it? What’s happening?
      “Beautiful,” says Will . He has got his shots. “I’m going to blow up these images into posters.”
      “Hush. Listen.”
      “What is it?” asks Mal.
      “Don’t talk. I can’t hear what they’re saying if you talk.”
      “They do say dolphins have their own language,” says Will .
      Now I hear it. It’s like tuning in to stations on an old-fashioned radio. The airwaves wheeze and crackle. There’s a snatch of music, then something that might be words in a foreign language. One of the dolphins leaps so close to the boat that its wake catches us, our boat rocks, and Mal’s dad has to struggle to keep his balance.
      “This…is…amazing,” says Mal in a low, awestruck voice.
      “I’ve never seen them come in so close. Look at him there.” It’s not a male; it’s a female. An adult female with broad, shining sides and small , dark, intelligent eyes that look at me with recognition. Of course. Of course. I know her. I know the shape of her—her powerful fluke that drives her through the water and her dorsal fin. I know what her skin feels like when I’m riding on her back with the sea rushing past me. I know her voice and the power of the muscles beneath her skin.
      “Hello,” I say. My voice makes only the feeblest click and whistle, like a baby trying to talk dolphin. She turns, swims away from the boat fast, then turns again and rushes the boat. Three meters from us, she stops dead. Water surges, and her eyes gleam, catching mine.
      “That is just so am-az-ing ,” says Mal again. Even though he’s Cornish, Mal likes to sound American, or maybe it’s meant to be Australian. He thinks it’s cool.
      “I reckon she’s having a game with us,” says his father.
      “They’re playful creatures, dolphins.”
      She’s not playing. You can tell  that from her voice. Lots of other voices are breaking in, all of them dolphin voices, some close, some far away. They weave a net of urgent sound, but her voice rises above them all.
     .  
      kommolek arvor trist arvor  
      truedhek arvor  
      arvor  
      kommolek  
      lowenek moryow  
      Ingo lowenek     

      The dolphin language weaves like music. I hear some of it, and then it slides away. It rushes over my mind, teasing and tickling. I can’t grasp it.
      “Please help me. I can’t understand what you’re saying.” She is very close to the boat now. Her eyes look directly into mine, powering their intelligence into me. But I can’t decode it; I can’t get there. My brain fizzes with irritation, just as it does when I’m on the point of solving a puzzle in mathematics.
      And then the connection breaks.
      “Hey, Sapphire, that was fantastic fake dolphin language you were talking!” says Mal, and the dolphin turns and dives back to the pod. I think it’s Mal’s appreciation that is fake, but I say nothing. Conor is watching me, silently willing me to shut up and not draw any more attention to myself. And I certainly don’t want