Sea Magic Read Online Free
Author: Kate Forsyth
laughter.
âYou donât have legs anymore,â Sechiel said. âYouâll have to slither like a seal. And here, have some of my sea-grapes, or you wonât be able to breathe underwater.â
Ben forced down a handful of sea-grapes, which were bitter and salty and left an awful taste in his mouth, then slowly, clumsily, wriggled along the sand. The others followed closely behind, laughing and giving him unwanted advice. At last, exhausted, Ben managed to flop into the water.
At once everything changed.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Ben swooped and soared through the waves, twisting his body into a triple roll, flicking into a high somersault, diving deeper than he had ever dived before. He had a sensation of extraordinary lightness and power. One slight flick of his tail and he was shooting forward like a rocket, trailing bubbles like starbursts behind him. A flowing gesture of his hand and he was racing along the curve of the wave, the water thrumming beneath him like a galloping racehorse. The sea, which had felt so icy when he had splashed in the foam before, was now merely cool, and the waves, which had seemed so rough and wild and dangerous, were now bridled and saddled. It was exhilarating.
Ben swam to the mouth of the lagoon and peered out anxiously into the deep water. He had no desireto see the shark. There was no sign of any triangular fin, though, so he took a deep breath to calm his nerves. It felt very odd to be underwater, and yet breathing as freely as if he were on land. It had taken a while to get used to it. He dived down through the churning grey waves. The ocean floor was bare and white, swept efficiently clean. He swam over a coral reef and saw that the delicate stone flowers were broken and crushed. There was not a fish to be seen.
Soon Ben saw, some distance away, a long, dark, snub-nosed shadow chugging along. It was shaped like a cigar, with propellers at one end and a small angular watchtower halfway along. Swiftly and silently Ben swam after it. He had never seen asubmarine before, except in pictures. This was much smaller than he had expected, and looked very sinister. He came up carefully behind it, and held on to one of the narrow fins that protruded from its side. It was made of cold iron. He let go, feeling scared.
Just then, a huge, dark shadow flicked over him. Ben spun round. The shark was bearing down on him, jaws agape. Heart hammering, Ben dodged behind the submarineâs fin. The shark crashed intothe submarine with the sound of an iron hammer hitting an iron anvil. Ben was too scared to move. He stared at the shark. It hung in the water, unmoving, giant serrated teeth bared. They glinted in the light from the watchtower. Its eyes glowed an electric blue. With sudden realisation Ben saw that the shark was made of metal too. Sechiel was right â it wasnât a real shark. It was a robot.
Ben let the submarine drag him along. The sharkfollowed, moving its head from side to side, looking for him. Soon Ben could hear the crash and roar of the surf, and see it churning above him. He waited until he could see the rocks looming through the water, then let go of the fin and struck out for shore.
At once the shark was after him. Ben swam desperately fast. The shark loomed over him. He could hear its machinery whirring. Ben flicked his tail and darted to the left. The shark overshot him, and Ben was able to gain some space. He undulated his body furiously, racing along the rocks, searching for a way to escape. The shark had turned around ponderously and was bearing down on his tail once more.
Ben saw a narrow, dark tunnel in the rocks and shot into it, squeezing himself inside. The shark crashed into the rocks behind him with a dull clang that reverberated through the water. Ben swam blindly up, up, up, scraping his body on the rock walls, his hands feeling soft, waving seaweed, sharp oyster shells, squishy anemones. Then he shot out of the water, and found himself safe in
âYou donât have legs anymore,â Sechiel said. âYouâll have to slither like a seal. And here, have some of my sea-grapes, or you wonât be able to breathe underwater.â
Ben forced down a handful of sea-grapes, which were bitter and salty and left an awful taste in his mouth, then slowly, clumsily, wriggled along the sand. The others followed closely behind, laughing and giving him unwanted advice. At last, exhausted, Ben managed to flop into the water.
At once everything changed.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Ben swooped and soared through the waves, twisting his body into a triple roll, flicking into a high somersault, diving deeper than he had ever dived before. He had a sensation of extraordinary lightness and power. One slight flick of his tail and he was shooting forward like a rocket, trailing bubbles like starbursts behind him. A flowing gesture of his hand and he was racing along the curve of the wave, the water thrumming beneath him like a galloping racehorse. The sea, which had felt so icy when he had splashed in the foam before, was now merely cool, and the waves, which had seemed so rough and wild and dangerous, were now bridled and saddled. It was exhilarating.
Ben swam to the mouth of the lagoon and peered out anxiously into the deep water. He had no desireto see the shark. There was no sign of any triangular fin, though, so he took a deep breath to calm his nerves. It felt very odd to be underwater, and yet breathing as freely as if he were on land. It had taken a while to get used to it. He dived down through the churning grey waves. The ocean floor was bare and white, swept efficiently clean. He swam over a coral reef and saw that the delicate stone flowers were broken and crushed. There was not a fish to be seen.
Soon Ben saw, some distance away, a long, dark, snub-nosed shadow chugging along. It was shaped like a cigar, with propellers at one end and a small angular watchtower halfway along. Swiftly and silently Ben swam after it. He had never seen asubmarine before, except in pictures. This was much smaller than he had expected, and looked very sinister. He came up carefully behind it, and held on to one of the narrow fins that protruded from its side. It was made of cold iron. He let go, feeling scared.
Just then, a huge, dark shadow flicked over him. Ben spun round. The shark was bearing down on him, jaws agape. Heart hammering, Ben dodged behind the submarineâs fin. The shark crashed intothe submarine with the sound of an iron hammer hitting an iron anvil. Ben was too scared to move. He stared at the shark. It hung in the water, unmoving, giant serrated teeth bared. They glinted in the light from the watchtower. Its eyes glowed an electric blue. With sudden realisation Ben saw that the shark was made of metal too. Sechiel was right â it wasnât a real shark. It was a robot.
Ben let the submarine drag him along. The sharkfollowed, moving its head from side to side, looking for him. Soon Ben could hear the crash and roar of the surf, and see it churning above him. He waited until he could see the rocks looming through the water, then let go of the fin and struck out for shore.
At once the shark was after him. Ben swam desperately fast. The shark loomed over him. He could hear its machinery whirring. Ben flicked his tail and darted to the left. The shark overshot him, and Ben was able to gain some space. He undulated his body furiously, racing along the rocks, searching for a way to escape. The shark had turned around ponderously and was bearing down on his tail once more.
Ben saw a narrow, dark tunnel in the rocks and shot into it, squeezing himself inside. The shark crashed into the rocks behind him with a dull clang that reverberated through the water. Ben swam blindly up, up, up, scraping his body on the rock walls, his hands feeling soft, waving seaweed, sharp oyster shells, squishy anemones. Then he shot out of the water, and found himself safe in
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