shrieks and rips and grinds as the side of the Ballantine is torn open and the sea pours into her bel y.
Then the jumble of sound is pierced by human screams.
“No, Faro! No! I don’t want to hear any more!” Immediately the window of memory closes. I’m back in the calm moonlit water, with Faro.
“You saw it, little sister,” he says with satisfaction. “I wasn’t sure if you would have lost your power, living in the town.”
I shudder. “How could that wreck be in your memory, Faro? You’re not old enough to remember it.”
“The memory was passed to me by my ancestors, and so I can pass it on to you.”
“I wish you hadn’t. I don’t want those memories in my mind. Let’s get away from the wreck.”
“We can go right away if you want. Will you come deeper into Ingo with me, Sapphire? There’s someone I want you to meet.”
“Who?” My heart leaps. Perhaps—perhaps—could Faro possibly know someone who knows where Dad is?
“My teacher.”
“Oh.” I try hard to keep the disappointment out of my voice, but Faro picks it up at once.
“He is a great teacher,” he says, his voice proud, ready to take offense.
“I’m sure he is. Um, what’s his name?”
“Saldowr.”
“I can’t imagine going to school under the sea. What’s it like?”
Faro laughs. “We don’t go to school. We learn things when we need to learn them.”
“I see”—Faro sounds so sure that his way is the right way—“but wouldn’t it be easier just to go to school and learn everything in one place?”
“I’ve heard about ‘schools.’ Thirty of you young humans together, with only one old human to teach you. All day long in one room.”
“We move to different classrooms for different lessons,” I say.
“Hm,” says Faro.
“We go outside at break and lunchtime.”
“Human life is very strange,” says Faro slowly and meditatively. “All the young ones together, out of sight in these ‘schools.’ Do you like it, Sapphire?”
“We have to do it. It’s the law.”
Faro nods thoughtful y. “I should like to see it. I expect the rooms are very beautiful, or none of you would stay. But Sapphire, come with me to visit my teacher. He wants to meet you.”
“How far is it?”
“Not far,” says Faro carelessly. “A little beyond the Lost Islands, that’s all . We can be there and back by morning.”
“Morning!” All of a sudden the image of Sadie floods into my mind. Sadie, tied to an iron pole. She thinks I’m coming back in a few minutes. She’ll be worried already, pointing her nose toward the beach and rising tide, whining anxiously. I see her as clearly as I saw the inside of Faro’s memory. Usually the human world is cloudy when you’re in Ingo, but Sadie’s image is bright and sharp. “I’ve got to get back, Faro.”
“Don’t worry about the time, Sapphire. Ingo is strong tonight. But I don’t need to tell you that, do I? You felt it. You slipped into Ingo almost before you knew it, and it didn’t hurt at all . Your Mer blood knows that Ingo is strong. Not only strong but happy. Listen, listen, Sapphire. You can hear that Ingo is lowenek .”
The word beats in my memory. Who said that to me? Of course, it was the dolphins. But they didn’t sound as if they were talking about happiness. It sounded urgent, dangerous. Like a warning.
“I have to go,” I say. “I must get back to Sadie. I left her tied to a pole by her leash.”
Faro somersaults through the moonlit water. His body spins in a pattern of light and shadow. When he’s the right way up again, he says, “It seems to me that the one who is tied by a leash is you.”
“Me!”
“Yes. You’ve always got to go home. You stay in the shallows. You want to come to Ingo, but as soon as you’re here, you want to go back again. Saldowr needs to speak to you. He has something to tell you.”
I’m about