Chapter 45
“They are primeval,” says Ms. Granberg. “Legend has it that they’ve been around much longer than humans. Maybe even longer than the Ancient Ones. I don’t know how long they live, or whether they are even mortal. Maybe they hatched after the Ice Age.”
Hatched.
It has started pouring outside. Raindrops lash against the window pane, hard and merciless.
“They are known as sea serpents,” says Ms. Granberg. “Nobody wanted to give them a name, because names are power. Words are power. But you—the merfolk—you had a name for them. You called them Nurmand?r.”
“Nurmand?r,” I say, letting the syllables fill my mouth.
They taste like ice and ash.
“Be careful how you use that word,” Ms. Granberg says softly before muttering something that sounds like an incantation. “I don’t know whether it has the power to summon them.”
“Why would it?”
“There’s a reason your people were so vigilant,” says Ms. Granberg. “You were their watchers. The merfolk kept them in check. They would appear from time to time—sometimes a hundred years after their last sighting, sometimes less, but your people always managed to hold them back.”
“But what are they?” I insist. “I’ve only encountered one, but it felt . . . massive.”
The word isn’t enough to express the feeling.
“According to legend, they are vast sea serpents that hunt at night. They can’t stand sunlight—it burns them, even under the surface.
So they rest in shadow on the seabed during the day.
Not sleeping. Always waiting. Once the sun has set, they go in search of prey.
They can crush whole ships, drag people under the sea. ”
Ms. Granberg falls silent for a moment.
“You must know Svenska Hogarna,” she continues, “the small cluster of skerries that marks the easternmost land of the Stockholm Archipelago? There’s a remote and isolated lighthouse there, a good distance from Moja.
That area is known as the world’s largest ship graveyard.
” She bites her thumbnail. “They used to dwell there in the waters around Svenska Hogarna. Now it would seem that they have moved south.”
Because of me?
I want to ask, but don’t dare.
“They took Axel,” I say instead. “And Goran Jacobsson and . . . the others.”
She nods. “Their appetite grows with each victim.”
Ms. Granberg looks away, searches for something that isn’t there, then continues:
“All these people lost at sea. In the old days, people said they drowned. But it was the sea serpents. Not every time, but much too often. For several weeks now I have sensed their movements. I can feel them. Just like the Ancient Ones always have.”
Ms. Granberg’s eyes are shining. She looks a little crazy.
“In a way, you were right. Maybe I am responsible for Axel’s death.
Because I didn’t warn you all in time. Their presence was in the air on the day of the orienteering test—I could sense it.
I knew it wasn’t safe to be near the water but I .
. . I didn’t know how to stop everyone from going near the shore.
That’s why I gave out the whistles. I didn’t know what else to do.
I just hoped for the best. Hoped that everything would be okay. ”
She lets out a shaky, humorless little laugh.
“I was wrong.”
The silence expands between us. I don’t know what to say. Then a thought occurs to me.
“How could they take Axel if they can’t stand sunlight? It was the middle of the day when he disappeared.”
“The fog,” says Ms. Granberg. “Don’t you remember? It was unusually thick that day.”
Yes, I remember the fog. The unnaturally heavy mist that enveloped the island and obscured the sea. The impenetrable milky haze that drowned out all sounds, blurred all edges, and blanketed the island in darkness.
I’d never seen fog like it. Neither had Old Man Ingvar. He called it unnatural, which says a lot coming from an old fisherman who must have experienced all kinds of weather.
I want to ask if the Nurmand?r might have brought about the fog, but I hesitate when I see Ms. Granberg’s expression. It’s not just that she looks sad—more like defeated.
This frightens me even more.
“The fairies,” I say, picturing the small lights dancing in front of me.
“They tried to lure Rasmus away. They hypnotized him. I saw it. They were leading him straight into the forest.” I feel a blaze of rekindled hope.
“Maybe it wasn’t sea serpents after all.
What if the fairies took Axel and are holding him prisoner? ”
Ms. Granberg holds up her hand. “It wasn’t the fairies who took Axel away.”
“But they were trying to take Rasmus,” I insist. “I saw them with my own eyes.”
I think they wanted to take me, too, that morning on the beach when Bellman barked like he’d never barked before.
“Think about it. Fairies belong to the Ancient Ones. They despise the serpents, much more than humans ever have. Don’t you see?” Ms. Granberg looks impatiently at me.
Then it dawns on me.
“They were trying to get him away from the shore,” I say.
The dancing lights were leading him deeper into the woods. Away from the sea, not closer. The largest one looked me right in the eye, hovering silently in front of us.
The pieces come together and I hear myself say, “They were trying to save him.”