Harper and the Sea of Secrets Read online

  Everyone ran to the edge of the boat. Ferdie seized a telescope and squinted through the lens, then almost dropped it in surprise. “Wow,” he stuttered. “It’s not a sea dragon … it’s a whale.”

  Una shook her head. “There aren’t any such beasts in these waters any more.”

  But her son Samson spoke up. “There are, Mum. They’ve come back. I see them sometimes when I’m night fishing. There are dolphins, too. They’re pretty shy, but if you play music, they come closer.”

  The fishermen all turned to stare at Harper, their eyes now twinkling with hope.

  “Would you play something, lass?” asked Una.

  Harper’s face lit up in a smile. With the help of Ferdie and Nate, she opened the Scarlet Umbrella, lowered it over the edge of the boat and stepped in. From deep within the umbrella’s folds, Harper pulled a small, very old golden harp and started to softly play.

  Her fingers found the notes of the tune from her dream: a harmony of sailors’ hearts all singing their love to the seas.

  Ever so slowly, all around her, the surf began to glow. At first, there was just a glimpse of dazzling turquoise, then a flash of bright jade, followed by bursts of pink and orange. A chorus of tails broke the surface, and shooting air rose from the waves.

  “The whales are coming!” Liesel gasped. And they were. A school of legend-like mammals made a ring around the Scarlet Umbrella.

  Harper kept playing as more and more sea creatures came to join the song. There were bright-eyed dolphins and grey-skinned seals, glittering starfish and an inky octopus.

  Harper stood up, with Midnight prowling elegantly along the rim of the umbrella. “Right,” she called to the fishermen, “who’s ready to put on a show?”

  When three o’clock came in the City of Gulls, the orchestra’s instruments had been returned to the bandstand, much to their great relief. The musicians all looked fantastic in Great Aunt Sassy’s gorgeous gowns.

  Amongst the cheerful audience sat Ferdie, Liesel and Nate, each of them giddy with excitement.

  Smoke pricked her ears as the orchestra began to play. It was a stunning performance, made up of tender melodies and tunes of moondust.

  Just as the show came to an end, a new sound reached everyone’s ears: the sound of a girl playing a solo on a strange old harp in the middle of the sea. Colours began flickering under the water, and a harmony echoed up from the waves.

  Then there came a clapping of clamshells and a banging of baskets as a boat with white sails floated into view. On board, the band of beards raised their shells into the air and began to play for all they were worth – songs of patch-eyed pirates and shanties of sharp-toothed sharks.

  The audience were spellbound. As Harper played on, gulls began to swarm in time to the beat, and the orchestra, enchanted by happiness, grabbed bows and horns and joined in.

  The bandstand, the waters and the skies were alive with songs of the seas, all of them following the girl with the harp. The three children and Great Aunt Sassy could not have been prouder. Ferdie leaped up and grabbed the button accordion. Liesel joined in on the triangle, and Nate tooted away on the Roman tuba as if he’d been born on a boat.

  It was the best Songs of the Sea Festival the City of Gulls had ever known. The fishermen, the orchestra and everyone in the town could finally be friends.

  Later that evening, when the sun had set into the Sea of Secrets and the whales and sea creatures had all swum away, diving down deep to a world of blue, Una put her arms around Harper and thanked her. “You rescued the festival and made it what it should have always been,” she said gently.

  Harper smiled, “It wasn’t just me. I couldn’t have done it without my friends – or without Samson.”

  Una ruffled each of the children’s sand-filled hair. “You’re welcome to sail with us any time,” she beamed.

  Liesel’s eyes lit up like sparklers and Ferdie had to hold her hand to stop her jumping aboard the boat right away. Nate gave a sailor’s salute and, through the first rays of twilight, he could just make out a band of beardy fishermen grandly saluting back.

  The children waved, Smoke howled, Midnight mewed a proud meow, and Samson called goodbye, then the boat with white sails was gone.

  Great Aunt Sassy threw her arms around the four children. “You really saved the day!” she gushed, and because she was in a very good mood, she added, “Shall we go out on the sea once more to hear the whales sing?” The children glowed with joy.

  So the instruments were strung together and the girl with a harp towed out her friends in her enchanted umbrella. Behind her, the boy who knew the dark like the day smiled at his wolf. Beside him, on the double bass, a boy with a poet’s heart pulled his pencil from behind his ear and got ready to write. And a little way off, a girl who dreamed of dancing with pirates imagined herself on a sea-bound adventure.

  Great Aunt Sassy gazed up at the silver stars. Tomorrow they would travel back to the City of Clouds, but tonight was all about the sea. As it lapped softly around the instruments, the waters began to sparkle and the whale song began.

  The children bobbed closer together and held hands. Far off on the midnight waters, like a ghost beneath the moon, sailed a ship with white sails, clanging out the songs of the sea upon shells. The children laughed — the band of beards was playing again.

  “I hope we come back here,” yawned Liesel, as they headed back to shore.

  “We should come on a hot summer’s day,” smiled Nate, who was really rather tired.

  “Then we could swim and join the dolphins,” grinned Ferdie.

  “And sing with the whales,” sighed Harper, her eyes beginning to close.

  Even though they had the choice of many lovely beds up at the Pavilion, the children decided to sleep on the bandstand, curled up on their instruments, gazing out at the starry sea.

  “Sweet dreams, Midnight,” Harper whispered, snuggling down beneath the Scarlet Umbrella, and listening to the lull of the waves. Midnight winked a green eye at her and twitched his ears. He took a last look at the glittering water and nestled under Harper’s chin.

  In her dreams, Harper was sailing in a boat with sails of scarlet silk, playing a small golden harp. From the waves she heard music – a song as old as time and wise as oceans – and she knew that one day they would all come back and learn more of the secrets of the sea.

  Also look out for . . .

  When every single cat in the City of Clouds goes missing, Harper is determined to find her beloved Midnight and all the other precious pets.

  Harper can’t believe her luck when she discovers a magic flying umbrella and with the help of all her friends she sets off on a rescue adventure.

  But they’re up against the powerful Wild Conductor… Will they manage to bring the cats home?

  Late one evening as the stars begin to twinkle, Harper and her friends are flying on her magical Scarlet Umbrella when they see a girl running on air, skipping along a tightrope. She leads them to the wondrous Circus of Dreams, suspended in the clouds by hot-air balloons.

  As the children meet the mermaid acrobat, the circus baker, the puzzling fortune teller and the acrobatics troop, they begin to realise something about Harper’s mysterious past…

  Cerrie Burnell is a presenter and writer, best known for her work in children’s TV, and she featured in the Guardian’s 2011 list of 100 most inspirational women. Her other titles in this same series include Harper and the Scarlet Umbrella and Harper and the Circus of Dreams.

  Laura Ellen Anderson is the incredibly talented illustrator of the John Smith Is Not Boring series and The Witch Wars series, as well as all the other Harper titles.

  Picture books by the same creators:

  If you enjoy magical stories, also look out for Bella Broomstick by Lou Kuenzler

  Text © Lou Kuenzler

  Illustrations © Nicola Slater

  I am a hopeless witch.

  Everybody says so.

  Especially Aunt Hemlock. She woke me
up at dawn this morning just to tell me how hopeless I am.

  “Belladonna Broomstick, you are the most hopeless young witch in the whole of the Magic Realm!” she said, poking me with her long fingernails as the seven warts on the end of her nose wobbled like fat green frogs.

  I don’t have any warts on my nose. Perhaps that’s why I’m such a hopeless witch?

  If I could grow just one teeny-tiny wart, I might learn to be good at magic.

  I yawned and peeped at my reflection in Aunt Hemlock’s magic mirror.

  “Aha!” cackled the mirror. “If it’s not Belladonna Broomstick. Just look at your big brown eyes and chocolate curls. Not a wart in sight. Pathetic. What a hopeless young witch!”

  “Actually, Bella, I think you’re very pretty,” whispered a spider that swung down from the roof of the cave.

  “Thank you,” I blushed, understanding every word he’d said. Speaking animal languages is the only thing I am any good at.

  “Quiet!” Aunt Hemlock grabbed the poor little spider by seven of his eight long legs and dunked him in her lumpy porridge.

  “Let him go!” I cried.

  As if by magic (which it probably was), Aunt Hemlock’s creepy chameleon, Wane, appeared on the kitchen shelf. Wane gives me the shivers. I never know what colour he is going to be or where he will appear next. He’s always spying on me and telling tales to Aunt Hemlock. Right now he was disguising himself behind a jar of frogspawn.

  “Yum! Is that spider for me, mistress?” he slurped, sticking out his long purple tongue.

  “Certainly not!” Aunt Hemlock dangled the spider above her open mouth. “This one is mine.”

  “Stop!” I begged, but Aunt Hemlock swallowed the poor thing whole. “How horrible!” I shuddered.

  “And very unfair not to share,” sulked Wane, turning piglet-pink in a huff.

  Aunt Hemlock ignored us both and picked her teeth with a chicken bone.

  “You’re looking marvellously magical today, if I may say so, mistress,” said the mirror, sucking up to her as usual. . .

  Scholastic Children’s Books

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  First published in the UK by Scholastic Ltd, 2016

  This electronic edition published by Scholastic Ltd, 2016

  Text copyright © Cerrie Burnell, 2016

  Illustration copyright © Laura Ellen Anderson, 2016

  The right Cerrie Burnell and Laura Ellen Anderson to be identified as the author and illustrator of this work has been asserted by them.

  eISBN 978 1407 16793 0

  A CIP catalogue record for this work is available from the British Library.

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  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, incidents and dialogues are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

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