Chapter 4

I’m ready to escape however, that is not an option. The egg’s scales glow bright green and blue as if it can sense our movement. I suddenly realise Violet is talking to the foxamander in a warm, soothing voice. “It’s alright,” she whispers, stepping forward. I can hear in her voice that she’s trying to disguise her fear.

“We are leaving now,” she says, making sure she’s a bit louder. We both take a few steps forward. The foxamander pauses and leans forward to look at us. It’s blue beady eyes stare into our souls intimidatingly.”We aren’t going to hurt you or your egg,” Violet remarks, holding out a hand to show no harm. The foxamander seems to be listening closely. It gives a low yelp; he moves away from the door. It worked! I think. 

“Lets go,“ says Violet stepping past the foxamander. Its eyes hold mine and in them I see the waves of the ocean, crushing the seafloor. It bows its head, hides its claws and steps back as we pass by, safe at last.

Outside, I sigh with relief. Inside we hear the foxamander crawl into the cargo container and cuddle the egg softly.

The mist has already gone and left. A silver moon watches the shore line and stars flicker like a candle flame in the night sky, their reflections in the sea. Everything is quiet. We stroll along the empty roads and talk. No one can find the foxamander and its delicate egg. Violet talks at a fast pace about what we need to do. She has many ideas- make people believe it was demolished. Put signs up, saying it’s being shut down. I listen carefully as she speaks as slow as a snail to make sure I’m paying attention.

By the time we are walking back to my room, the town is wakening. The sun peeps over the calm sea, casting shadows along the shimmering sands. Bobby is setting up a picnic as it looks as if it might be a nice day for once. He waves to us with a cheery grin. Cassie’s Corner Caff is open and she’s inside baking cakes. Mr Beach flips the closed sign to open and begins restocking the colourful beach boards. As we get to the museum the morning traffic has begun. Cars weave past us on their way to the seaside car park.

I fiddle with the keys and burst the door open. Inside, it’s cold but quiet. Soon it will be bustling. As I open my cupboard to find my duster, my mind races. Will the foxamander’s egg be safe? Will the foxamander be able to care for its baby?

Violet dawdled over to look at the ‘Finds of Beach-combing’. I stand next to her and she points to a giant blue and green rock. We look at each other with the same thought.

All day, Violet’s eyes were fixed on books, old logs and records. In a leather bound book she finds a lost captain’s log written in 1845. It is a story of a fishing vessel that netted a huge glowing rock coated in blue and greens. They kept it in a room next to a fire but that night it broke and the captain told the story of how the ship was visited by devil’s fox. They had just managed to capture it and throw it overboard. Ever since then the captain swore to kill it but never did.