by Aaron Galvin
She had dozed on and off throughout most of the journey. Even now, the truck engine’s thrum suggested she return to sleep. Chidi wouldn’t. Whether triggered by Racer’s sacrifice, or Henry’s words she belonged to him, a carousel of nightmares haunted her each time she nodded off.
Chidi remembered her father would soothe her when she awoke from such night terrors as a little girl. He had told her the bad things in her dreams could not harm her. Such words rang false now, as did his claims he would never allow any evil to befall her.
He didn’t know what would happen, she reminded herself.
Chidi craned her neck to see out the truck cab windows. Skyscrapers, a few interstate signs, but no indicator of which coastal state Henry drove in.
Henry angled the rearview. “We weel be there soon, mon amour.”
She turned her gaze away from him as the truck slowed to a crawl. Stacked container cars loomed outside the window alongside motionless cranes. She assumed they were near a dock, confirmed a moment later by the sounds of gulls.
Henry drove beneath a faded crimson sign with the words Crayfish Collins Co. est. 1883. He stopped the truck near a barbed wire gate and rolled the window down.
A long-faced man approached the window. Glanced at Chidi, then Henry. “Right. How much for the girl?”
“Do you know who I am?” Henry asked.
“Nah,” said the fisherman. “Don’t guess I do. But if ya here, that means ya lookin’ to do business.”
“I am,” said Henry. “But not weeth you.”
The fisherman chuckled. “Look, pal, I dunno—”
Chidi heard a scuffle, a gasp, then a thud.
The overhead cab light flickered on.
An alarm dinged as Henry exited the truck and left the door open.
Chidi shifted to look outside. A man dressed in orange waders and a black hoodie lay sprawled across the pavement, unconscious. She watched Henry approach a barbed wire fence that read Private Property: No Trespassing. He unlatched the roller gate and pushed it open.
A rundown warehouse lay ahead. Near the top, a Crayfish emblem bathed in the milky glow of a security light. The Crayfish…we’re going back?
Chidi lay down upon seeing Henry turn from the gate. He climbed inside the truck with nary a word, put the vehicle in gear, and cruised ahead. Chidi tried telling herself Henry would only revisit Crayfish Cavern to collect the second half of his payment for protecting Oscar. Her heart knew it for a lie. Lenny…
The brakes squealed to a halt moments later. Henry laid on the horn until someone tapped his window.
“Hey! What’s up with the noise, buddy?” the man asked. “Ya tryin’ to draw attention on us or something? Who are ya?”
“Henry Boucher. I bring gifts for the Crayfeesh.”
Chidi watched Henry nod his head in her direction.
The fisherman poked his head inside and grinned down on her. “Why, she’s a pretty one isn’t she?” The man disappeared. “Ya said ya name was Boucher?”
“Oui.”
“Boucher…Boucher…”
Chidi heard papers ruffling.
“Yeah,” said the fisherman. “Ya not on my list, pal. Can’t let ya through. Dockmaster’s orders.”
“I see,” said Henry. “Tell Monsieur Tieran I have a message for ‘im.”
“Ya know, Tieran, huh?” The fisherman chuckled. “Ya look the type he does business with. Still can’t let ya through. Why don’tcha gimme ya message and—hey, how did ya get past our man back at the gate anyway?”
“Ze same way I weel pass you if you don’t do as I say. Now, fetch your master, seadog.”
Do what he says. Chidi wished to tell the fisherman. Please.
“No need to get nasty, pal,” said the fisherman after a lengthy delay. “Just doin’ my job.”
“Tieran,” said Henry. “Now.”
The fisherman sighed. “All right. Gimme a sec.”
Chidi listened to Henry mutter in French as they waited. Five minutes later, a knock came at the window. A weasel-faced man stood outside it. Chidi smelled the booze on him even from the back seat.
“Well, well, well,” the man slurred. “If it’s not me ol’ pal. All righ’, Henry?”
“Oui.”
“Righ’, tell me then, what can I do you for? Gotta shove off soon to keep on schedule. It’s a special haul I got, or so said the lil’ Crayfish. I expect his father’ll be wantin’ to see ‘em soon.” Tieran belched. “So come on. Out with it. What’ve you got for ol’ Tieran, eh?”
“Two pups. A fat man. A few coats,” said Henry.
“Righ’, but that’s all for the Crayfish.” Tieran leaned against the truck to keep from falling over. “I got a full boat inside, and I’m not in the business of handing out favors. So…I ask you again, mate. What’s in it for ol’ Tieran?”
“I weel give you the truck.”
“This ol’ beater?” Tieran laughed. “What am I to do with it? Drive it off the pier and hope it sprouts flippers? Nah…you want a ride to Crayfish Cavern with us to sell slaves, I needs one of ‘em for meself. That’s a bargain, it is.”
Henry shrugged. “You can ‘ave the fat man.”
“Nah,” said Tieran. “I want one of the pups. The Crayfish has a sale on soon. Plans to put on games for his guests. Might be I could use a pup in the pits.”
“Take my offer.” Henry insisted.
Chidi listened to Tieran hiccup.
“One slave’s better than none, eh?” Tieran sighed. “Drive me truck inside and park it on the pier. We’ll have your haul unloaded and be off.” Tieran left the window. “All righ’! Open it up, lads!”
Chidi heard a metal door screech open. The truck shuddered beneath her as it pulled ahead toward the light. She felt the wheels leave smooth pavement for the rat-a-tat-tat-tat as they transitioned onto the pier’s wooden planks.
Henry killed the truck engine. A minute later, he helped Chidi out the driver’s side door.
Chidi leaned against the truck bed to stretch her legs. She surveyed the warehouse and noticed it cleaner and more organized than most others she’d seen in her time with Henry. A trawler bobbed gently alongside the pier. Cages littered the deck. Most of those inside had hollow eyes. They took one look at her bonds then resigned themselves back to listless stares.
Chidi noticed a few still kept a flicker of life. One of them, an athletic teenager with a shaved head, stood in his cage, hands on the bars, eyes watchful of everything happening on the pier. She didn’t recognize the teen, but gasped when his cellmates stood. The Silkstealer and Marisa Bourgeois…together? How did they end up here?
“All righ’,” said Tieran. “Get this haul unloaded and shove off! We got a schedule to keep!”
Chidi vaguely heard the tailgate clang open as Henry let it fall. Instead, she found herself drawn to Marisa.
The elusive slave grinned at Chidi.
“Please!” one of Henry’s captive teens yelled behind Chidi. “I’m not supposed to be here—”
“This guy kidnapped us!” said the other.
“Quiet, you lot!” Tieran yelled back, flogging the teens with the butt of his whip.
With the teens unloaded, Henry removed the Selkie suits he’d skinned from the back of the truck and tucked them under his arm. He took Chidi firmly by the bicep and led her toward the boat. She followed his lead without quarrel, noticing Marisa’s sad gaze followed her.
Henry leapt across the divide and onto the boat, then reached for Chidi.
She managed the jump without help.
“So strong…” Henry took her by the arm and led her near a series of cages, drawing close to Marisa’s. But if Marisa is here, Chidi thought to herself. That means Lenny and the others have already come back! They’ll be down in the Cavern waiting for us.
“Henry!” Tieran shouted. “Give us a hand, will you?”
Chidi watched the fisherman struggle with the gas station attendant. The man had somehow stolen away a fishing spear from o
ne of the guards and swung it wildly back and forth whenever anyone came near.
“Don’t move,” Henry commanded Chidi before leaving.
“Hello again, Chidi…”
Chidi turned and found Marisa Bourgeois grinning at her.
“My heart is happy to see you again.”
“H-how did they catch you?” Chidi asked.
Marisa shrugged playfully. She stepped closer to the bars of her cage, eyes twinkling. “Why did you let me escape at the zoo?”
“I—”
“Bryce…” said the Silkstealer’s teen cellmate. “Marrero, hey. Bryce, over here!”
Chidi glanced over her shoulder and saw Henry’s teen captives. They know each other? Chidi frowned as taskmasters dragged the teens she’d coached into the truck bed down the pier, both captives fighting and yelling all the way.
“Quiet!” One of the fishermen struck them upside the heads before shepherding them one after the other onto the boat and into a nearby cage.
Three teens who all know one another…Chidi processed. What are the odds?
A pain in her gut warned she had missed something. She didn’t have long to contemplate.
The platoon of fisherman had overtaken the attendant. Tieran held the man’s face to the ground with the heel of his boot while his lackeys kicked the attendant into submission.
Chidi glanced away as Henry strode up the dock, scowling. He leapt onto the boat and, without a word, jerked her further up the deck and into the captain’s quarters. She instantly smelled day old coffee and cigarettes. Noticed panel boards full of mini screens, radio and navigational equipment. Heard a radio crackle with Coast Guard updates and weather advisories.
“Chidi?”
Chidi twisted around. Ellie?
The heavyset girl sat on a leather couch behind the captain’s chair, her hands bound around a silver mast pole running from floor to ceiling. She shook strands of loose hair from her eyes. For a moment, Chidi thought her friend genuinely happy to see her. Her shoulders sagged a second later when Henry placed the Selkie suits under his arm on the table in front of her.
“Where eez Dolan?” Henry asked.
“Not here.” Ellie eyed the bloodstained suits. “G-gone home to Crayfish Cavern with Oscar and the Orc. Tieran kept me behind to help with the new haul.”
“Then what are you doing in ‘ere?” Henry asked.
Chidi knew the answer, even as she eyed the bruises on Ellie’s cheeks and neck. She recognized them for the same bruises she oft bore after fending Henry away. Chidi guessed Ellie more successful in her bout, however. Not for the first time, Chidi wished she had the larger frame and strength Ellie carried.
The cabin door slid open before Ellie answered.
Chidi watched Tieran stroll in. Behind him came a tall, broad-shouldered man dressed in a threadbare trench coat. His greenish-gold eyes found Chidi and he grinned easily, revealing pointed teeth that glinted razor sharp. “Hello there,” he purred as his gaze worked up and down Chidi’s bodice.
Henry stepped in front of her.
Tieran cleared his throat. “Righ’, Henry, this is, uh—”
“Ishmael.” The guest gave a curt nod. “Call me Ishmael.”
Chidi watched Ishmael open his coat. Scars and tattooed numerals lined his bare, muscular chest and abs. What resembled grey tights began at his waist, covered his parts and ran down his legs, ending at his ankles. He’s a Salt Child.
“Like what you see?” Ishmael chuckled at Chidi staring. “Wouldn’t be the first to say so. Nor will you be the last, girl. Want to know what these marks mean? Come over and I’ll whisper it in your ear.”
Chidi didn’t budge.
Tieran sniggered. “Met Ish in the pub tonight, I did. Said the Crayfish invited ‘em to the auction soon to come. Thought he’d get a first peek at the new crop by buyin’ me drinks.” Tieran slurred. “Smart one, that. He saw you lot come in and fancies your lil’ darkie.”
“Indeed,” said Ishmael to Henry. “How much you will have for her?”
“She eez not for sale.”
Ishmael smirked. “You really don’t know who I am, do you?”
“I don’t care,” said Henry. “She eez mine.”
Chidi felt a lump in her stomach as the two haggled over her with no regard that she stood in their midst.
“For now,” said Ishmael.
“For always.” Henry drew a dagger from his Selkie pocket.
Ishmael laughed. “Is this one for sale, Tieran?” He jerked his thumb toward Henry.
“’Fraid not. Henry’s a freed Selkie, he is. Owner too.”
“Shame,” said Ishmael. “Not met many Selkies with his boldness. I like that in a slave.”
He’s a madman, thought Chidi. They all are.
“Wait till the auction, sir,” said Tieran. “Might have a fighter or two in this new lot for you. Let you know which after I test ‘em.”
“Aye. See that you do.” Ishmael turned to leave.
“No need to run off, sir,” said Tieran. “You can ride up here with the captain.”
“Kind of you,” said Ishmael. “But I know when I’m not welcome.”
Chidi glanced at Henry, his gaze locked on Ishmael, blade ready to strike.
Ishmael looked on Chidi a final time. “I’ll see you again, lovely.”
She shivered as he stepped out the door and slid it closed.
“He makes me nervous, that one.” Tieran collapsed into the captain’s chair. “It’s the Nomad blood in ‘em. Savages, all, the lot of ‘em.”
“Why do you do business with zem?” Henry asked.
“About the only ones you can sell to nowadays. Word on the currents is the powers what be in the capital plans on outlawing slavery soon.”
Henry snorted. “And soon Selkies weel rule the world.”
Tieran laughed. “Aye. That’ll be the day, mate. Guess I don’t buy into all that bollocks we hear outta the capital anyway. Them rich Blowholes still need girls for their beds and boys to fight in the pits. Sometimes t’other way around, eh?” Tieran chuckled. “Been that way since the dawn of time, I guess. Don’t see it changin' much.”
Tieran stood. Stretched. “Righ’. Best get back to work. See me down in the cavern and I’ll buy them skins off you. Gotta check with the Crayfish first and find what he’s willing to pay.”
Need. Chidi hated the word as Tieran left the cabin, whistling. Need girls for their beds. Anger coursed through her, yet she found herself powerless to give it an outlet even as she stared down the man who oft spoke of his need for her.
I have a need too, she thought, watching Henry. And one day, I’ll show you how bad I need to see it through.
Henry remained ignorant of her loathing. He placed his dagger on the table as he stepped around the table. “Ellie.” Henry bent to kiss her cheeks. “So good to see you again. Allow me to show you ze geefts I bring for your master.” Henry reached for the Selkie suits and unfolded them across the table, one by one. “Zis one I took from a Leper—”
Wotjek, Chidi thought. His name was Wotjek.
“And zese two from Lions. One at the jail, and zis one”—Henry tapped the smaller tannish coat—“I skinned from your friend, Racer, right after I keeled ‘im.”
“N-no,” Ellie squeaked.
“Oui.” Henry sat next to Ellie and placed his arm around her broad shoulders.
No. Chidi thought, her feet rooted to the floor. She watched Henry take a strand of Ellie’s hair. Twirl and wrapped it around his fingers.
“I know what you did to ‘elp my Chidi,” Henry said lowly.
Ellie’s face pained.
“I know zat ze nipperkin planned eet.” Henry twirled Ellie’s hair tighter, tugging her ear closer to his mouth. “Would you like to learn what else I know?”
“G-go to hell.” Ellie said.
“In time, perhaps, but not yet.”
Chidi heard the metallic jingle of Ellie’s cuffs quiver, reverb up the pole. She watched Ellie�
�s wrists pull at the tiny chain links, begging for release, as Henry secured his grip on her further.
“I know zat you weel do all I ask. Zat you weel tell your master eet was Dolan that set Racer and my Chidi free. Won’t you do zat for me, Ellie?”
Say yes. Chidi willed her crewmate. Please. Say yes.
“I-I will,” said Ellie.
“Good,” said Henry. “Because if you lie to me, Ellie—” Henry picked his dagger off the table and placed its tip at Ellie’s throat “—I add your suit to my collection.”
GARRETT
Garrett clung to Paulo’s seal neck, the stink of wet fur entrenched in his nostrils, as waves crashed over them.
Two feet away, the Ringed Seal popped its head above water.
“I did what you asked,” Garrett yelled over the waves. “Now tell me why!”
Had to see ya control the changes, said Lenny. Needed to know it before takin’ ya to Crayfish Cavern. Ya done good, Weava. Real good.
“So now what happens?”
Ya change back into an Orcinian. Then we go!
“I don’t know what an Orcinian is!”
Yes, you do. The primal voice returned, called out his lie. You’ve always known. Now, you believe.
“T-tell me.” Garrett begged of Lenny. “Tell me what I am.”
An Orca, said Lenny. You’re a Killa Whale.
Yesss. Garrett closed his eyes and slipped off Paulo’s back. That’s what I am.
He allowed himself to sink, no longer fearing his inability to swim. No longer afraid to drown. He pictured the painting on Oscar’s boat. The mammoth size, the raw power, the overwhelming awe he had felt at the mere sight of such a majestic beast.
The itch returned in his toes.
No. Garrett willed his eyes open. I want to see it.
He found himself naked, his clothes rent to shreds from the last transformation. The changes had already begun, his feet black and flipper-like. They conjoined at the ankles and he felt a drag akin to nails drifting up his shins. Goose pimples rose in its wake like a trail for the blackish hue to follow. It overtook his shins, knees, and thighs. All expanded, like an airless balloon hung from the end of a tap and filled with water.
