Again he kneeled and slipped his hands under Artemis’s arms and started to lift just as a huge, phantom shape shot up from the depths. There was a flash of bronze and creamy white beneath Artemis’s dangling legs, and Nathaniel felt a powerful, resistless tug as Artemis was torn from his grasp, eyes bulging, mouth opened to scream, but he never made a sound, dragged under in the time it would take to snap a photograph. He appeared briefly a few feet below, arms flailing, his mouth still open and the gold tooth giving off a dull gleam, before he vanished in a dense billow of what looked like dark green ink. Nathaniel caught a fleeting glimpse of an enormous brown tail, scything swiftly downward through the billows. The whole thing happened in two or three seconds. Too stunned to speak or move, his brain utterly unable to interpret what his eyes had seen, Nathaniel remained on his knees, staring at the inky cloud spreading across the calm sea. In a few moments, the water was clear again, and he could see the sand and coral heads eight fathoms below and nothing more. It was as though Artemis Lowe had dissolved in an instant; it was as though he had never been.

Busy with their task, the other three boys had not seen a thing. Eliot was taking the shackle off the chain when he heard Nat scream, “Shoot! Eliot! For Christ’s sake, shoot! SHOOT!”

He ran aft for the shotgun; but when he looked around, he could not see anything, yet Nat cried out again for him to shoot.

“At what?” he hollered.

“SHARK! SHARK!”

“Where? Where away?”

“SHOOT IT! SHARK! IT’S GOT ARTEMIS! SHOOT, FOR GOD’S SAKE!”

At the word shark, Will and Drew ran back to join Eliot.

“What’s he mean, a shark’s got Artemis?” Drew asked. “Wasn’t fifteen seconds ago, I saw him hanging on to the tender.”

Eliot narrowed his eyes against the glare.

“He ain’t in it, Drew.”

They all three went silent, and the dread that fell on them equally was almost visible, almost tangible. Their glances swept the sea, but that’s all there was: sea and sky, reef and bird.

“GODDAMN YOU, ELIOT! I’LL SHOOT THE THING IF YOU WON’T!”

They watched Nathaniel seize the oars and begin to row; to row furiously but move not a foot.

“Natters! You forgot to haul the anchor!” Will called, with forced calm.

Paying no attention, Nathaniel continued to pull, with a futility that would have been farcical under different circumstances. All three shouted to him to pull up the anchor, but he was as one gone deaf.

“Your brother’s out of his head,” said Will. “Jesus Christ, what could he have seen to do this to him?”

“Artemis get eaten, what the hell do you think?” Eliot said.

Will quickly stripped off his jersey and trousers.