by Aaron Galvin
Garrett nearly cried. This is so cool!
A sprint of white emerged near his groin and raced up his stomach and chest, even as the black weaved in and out about his ribs to form an hourglass pattern around it.
Garrett watched his biceps flatten. Felt the changes continue down his forearms and watched his fingertips meld together, round into giant black paddles.
He felt the itch work up his neck, envelope his head and face. He imagined the splotches of white around his ears expanding into what he previously thought of as a Killer Whale’s eyes. He pictured the white streak up his chest, continuing to his throat and encasing his lower jaw. He felt his teeth round, mouth widening. The ocean spoke to him again.
And now we are truly one, the primal voice whispered ere vanishing to the recesses of his mind. Garrett grinned inwardly. Lenny. I’m a Killer Whale!
An Orcinian. Lenny ventured closer.
Garrett’s mind raced with the new senses. He laughed and heard the shrill call echo away. It returned a moment later with mental pictures of the waters around him. Garrett kicked his tail, spun, then dove. He laughed frequently, receiving new x-ray-like images each time.
Wow! Garrett said. I feel like I can hear and see everything.
That’s great, Weava, said Lenny. Glad ya happy.
Happy? I’m stoked, dude! Garrett cut through the waters. His Orca mind sensed fear in both seals as he zoomed past. The thought elated him. He laughed again and performed a slow, wide angle before returning to Lenny. This is so sweet. Lenny, what else can I do?
Huh?
I can change into a freakin’ Killer Whale, man! What other powers do I have?
I dunno. Ya gettin’ on my nerves though, said Lenny. Count that as one.
Nah, said Paulo. Everybody has that power.
Shuddup, Paulie, said Lenny. All right. He seems safe enough. Let’s head home.
I don’t want to go home now. Garrett swam away, diving and rising. He fired off more echolocation blasts. The returning image showed Lenny and Paulo swam northeastward toward a rocky island. Garrett gave chase again.
Whoa. Stop doin’ that, will ya? Lenny barked.
What?
Oh, I dunno. What would ya do if ya was a seal and a Killa Whale swam right at ya?
Right, sorry. Garrett tried to quell his excitement, even as a thousand questions raced through his mind. Lenny, how long can I hold my breath?
The Ringed Seal ascended. I look like an Orcinian to ya?
No.
Then how would I know?
Forget Lenny, Paulo said to Garrett. He’s always mad his suit’s limiting.
How do you mean?
He’s made for cold weather and ice living. Len’s claws are sharper than mine, but he’s not built for power. Plus, he can only hold his breath about five minutes. Me? I can dive for two hours.
Whoa! Garrett said. That’s crazy.
Eh, it’s what my suit’s made for, said Paulo. I’m a brute—deep diver and security, mostly. I got nothing on you though.
So how strong am I?
Strong. Paulo laughed. I got to know some of your kind when I lived in the capital. They were mostly good to me. That’s Rezzies for you though. The ones like you, the Trannies—
Wait. Garrett slowed. What’d you call me? I thought you guys said I was an Orcinian.
You are, said Paulo. There’s different types. Rezzies are the nice ones. They mostly eat fish, maybe some squid here and there. Trannies though. Paulo whistled. They’re the ones Selkies like me and Len have to watch out for.
But—
Buckets a blood, said Lenny. Enough with the questions already. Ya gonna have to wise up to make it down here, Weava. Ya want some advice? Here’s a tip. Selkies and Orcs? They don’t mix. Not eva.
Why not? Garrett asked.
Ya spend much time with cows and chickens back home?
No, why would I—Garrett stopped at the realization of what Lenny alluded to. You’re saying my kind…eats…Selkies?
It’s what I hear.
Garrett felt sick. How could they? It’s not only murder, it’s…it’s—
Survival of the fittest, said Lenny.
Just be glad you’re an Orc, said Paulo. You’re kind of at the top of the food chain. Nobody wants to mess with your kind.
Yeah, look at ya! Lenny barked. Ya the size of a friggin’ bus. Who’s gonna get in the way of that body ya got?
Not to mention Orcs always travel together in pods, said Paulo.
Then why am I alone? Garrett wondered.
Oh, and hey, don’t listen to everything Len says, said Paulo. That whole bit about Orcs eating Selkies? It’s not true.
It is so, said Lenny.
It’s not, said Paulo. The Rezzies I knew in the capital were in the Painted Guard. They beat a few Selkies up from time to time, but they never ate them.
Sure. Not that ya saw, said Lenny. They do it, Weava. Mark my words.
Garrett watched Paulo shake his bulbous seal head. Don’t listen to him.
Paulie, all I’m sayin’ is how do ya know they didn’t eat ‘em when ya weren’t lookin’?
For the same reason you’d stop if a fish you snagged spoke, said Paulo. Real seals…they don’t talk. If it’s a Selkie inside though, you can bet they’d beg for their lives the second they noticed an Orc on their tail. Ancients know I would.
What if the seal isn’t paying attention? Garrett asked.
Bam! Lenny somersaulted and slapped Garrett’s side with a fore flipper. Ya just another Saturday Selkie special. My pop said he saw a runna get laid out once by an Orc pod. Sent the Selkie flyin’ in the air and popped his insides out. Killed that runna on the spot.
So that’s why you guys were worried about me. Garrett shivered. Man, I can’t believe you even got in the water with me after hearing that story.
It’s not like we had a choice. Paulo chuckled. But now you know why I swam for deeper waters when you did your little changeover for the first time back there.
Garrett relived the moment the Orca mind took over. How it viewed chasing the Ringed Seal—Lenny, Garrett reminded himself—as a game. He shuddered at the thought of what might’ve happened had he not come to his senses. This is insane.
That’s the Salt, said Paulo. And it’s why Fenton told us to make sure you were safe before bringing you home to Crayfish Cavern.
Garrett surfaced for a quick breath and spied the lighthouse near. Is that where we’re going? The lighthouse is your home?
Sort of, said Paulo. You’ll see it soon. We’re almost there.
Paulo, how did you know I was a…um…a—
A Trannie?
Garrett laughed.
What’s so funny?
That word means something waaay different on land. Garrett chuckled. How do you know the difference between a Rezzie and a—Garrett sniggered—a Trannie?
For starters, Rezzies aren’t usually chasing me. Not that you have to worry about that sort of thing. Paulo sighed. An easy way to tell is your dorsal fin. Trannies have pointed ones, kind of like Nomads. Rezzie fins are rounded over. That’s about all I know of Orcs though. Like Lenny said, our kinds don’t mix much.
We’re here, said Lenny. Take a breath before we dive, Weava.
Garrett surfaced and exhaled. He had never seen a lighthouse in person before. Somehow he recognized that tall tower as the last sentinel of civilization. The unknown existed beyond—and, more importantly, below—the swirling light.
Garrett trembled at the prospect.
The Ringed Seal swam closer. Ready?
Yeah, said Garrett.
You sound nervous, said Paulo.
I guess so, Garrett acknowledged. What if where we’re going is too deep? What if I can’t hold my breath?
You can, said Paulo. The tunnel is only about thirty feet down. Easy enough for an Orc.
Yeah, said Lenny. Follow the big guy, Weava.
The Ringed Seal dipped below the water, followed by the Elephant Seal.
Garrett took a final lingering look at the lighthouse, and then descended. With visibility nil, he echolocated and pinged the two seals. The returning image revealed jagged, rocky outcroppings at varying depths, sure to dissuade any boats from venturing too close to the island. Garrett gave another flick of his powerful tail and caught up to the seals.
The waters darkened the deeper they dove. Twice, Garrett accidentally nudged Paulo with his Orca beak.
The Elephant Seal grunted in response.
Here we go, said Lenny.
Garrett fired off another burst of echolocation, learned the tunnel was wide enough to accommodate his size, but only just. Long and dark, the primal mind told Garrett the passageway descended. How far it went his Orc brain couldn’t estimate.
Do it, Garrett willed himself on. You’ve come this far.
He swam forward. Ten feet inside, the walls seemed to close in on him. Garrett kicked hard to speed ahead.
Whoa! Not so fast, said Lenny. Ya wanna smash us into the walls?
N-need…o-out.
We’re almost there, Weava. Look ahead. See the waters lighten?
Garrett did. Still dark, but less so than the near pitch he currently found himself in, the light offered some minor relief to his claustrophobia. Y-yeah.
Focus on that.
Garrett stayed close to both seals’ tails, pushing them to swim faster.
The tunnel floor bottomed out, then quickly rose and brightened. Another flick of his tail and Garrett exited the passage into open water again. An echolocation burst revealed cavern walls, unlike the open ocean in which he’d first transformed.
Garrett ascended for the surface with the pair of seals flanking either side of him. Wh-what’re you guys doing?
Makin’ sure nobody panics at an Orcinian showin’ up unannounced, said Lenny.
Paulo chuckled. Bet the dockworkers ran for the mansion when they saw his dorsal fin.
Garrett surfaced and exhaled, drinking in the air. He looked up and gasped. Whoa.
He gaped at the walls curved to form a giant dome. Geode crystals, purple and green, twinkled at him from high in the cavern ceiling. Stalactites hung like sparkling stone icicles. Some looked thick as pillars, others thin and brittle. A few of their tips even broke the water’s surface.
Garrett completed his turn.
A dock stood fifty yards from them with lit braziers entrenched in each post. Whitewashed, wooden buildings with thatched roofs stood beyond the dock.
It’s like a whole other world! Garrett thought to himself, following Lenny’s lead inland.
Beyond the whitewashed homes, a pathway led up a stone hill. At the peak, a mansion carved from the cavern walls towered over all. The sight stole Garrett’s breath away and he desired nothing more than to walk the steep incline. Touch the home and search for what treasures surely lay inside.
“Garrett!” a voice yelled.
Garrett looked for the source. He saw Oscar run to the end of the dock, near pitching over the edge in his excitement. Behind him, a troop of men in hooded Selkie suits escorted a corpulent man, dressed in the same regal attire as Oscar, a pearl-white Harp coat.
Fenton and a dwarf who bore a striking resemblance to Lenny flanked the obese man. Garrett noticed both of them stopped when the fat man did, all well short of the dock’s end.
Paulo, who’s the fat guy?
August Collins, Oscar’s father, said Paulo. And don’t let him or anyone else hear you call him fat. He doesn’t like it one bit.
Weava, said Lenny. When we get to the dock, let me do the talkin’. Probably betta if ya change back too.
Garrett stiffened. What if I can’t? I’ve only done it once. What if I—
Think about whateva ya did last time and you’ll do fine. The Ringed Seal blinked. Well…come on! Change already.
Garrett swam close enough to the docks to grab hold once in human form and keep from sinking. He nearly laughed when seeing a few of the hooded guardians step back. With his ribs brushing the barnacle-encrusted pillars, Garrett closed his eyes and recalled the memory of his father’s baseball game. The familiar itch returned and worked its way over his body.
Garrett hugged a wooden pillar the moment he felt his arms return. The barnacles tore at his skin, but still he hung on, even upon feeling Paulo rise beneath him again.
When Garrett reopened his eyes, he noticed August had stepped to the edge of the dock, his flabby arm draped around Oscar’s shoulders. “So, this is Garrett Weaver. The Orc my son deemed it wise to bring home.”
“Y-yes, sir,” said Garrett.
“Sir?” August’s voice peaked. “Oh, I do like you already. It’s been, well, certainly never, since I met a well-mannered Orc. Wouldn’t you agree, Fenton?”
Garrett fought off a sneer as he looked on the man who’d kicked him off a boat and trained a harpoon on him not an hour ago.
“Aye,” Fenton agreed.
“Hello again, Garrett.” Oscar waved.
“H-hi Oscar.”
“Told you everything would be all right, didn’t I?” Oscar said. “Father, might we take Garrett up to our home?”
“Oh, yes, of course,” said August. “He’s no doubt tired after such an arduous journey as you all have led him on. Fenton?”
The old overseer whistled at the hooded guardians. “You three. Help him out of the water.”
Garrett watched the men near fall over one another to obey. That’s weird. Why do they all seem so afraid?
Garrett glanced back to the tunnel’s underwater entrance.
“Thinking of leaving us so soon, Garrett?” August tsked. “That won’t do at all. You don’t want to be rude, after all. Come, we’ve warm clothes for you, a cozy bed, and Fenton will direct the cooks to prepare anything you’d like.”
Garrett turned back to the guardian’s open hands. He ignored their aid and pulled himself from the water, onto the dock. He heard another splash, followed by a thud.
The Ringed Seal had joined him on the deck. It snorted its nostrils at the guardians and opened its mouth to hiss. Rememba what I said, Weava, Lenny’s voice filled Garrett’s mind. Let me do the talkin’.
Garrett didn’t argue. Hunched to hide his nakedness, he suddenly felt the warmth of an itchy blanket draped about him. He glanced up and into the scar-lined face of a little man.
“Th-thank you,” said Garrett.
“Declan.” The little man nodded in reply, then stepped back as Fenton helped Garrett to his feet. “Declan Dolan.”
“There,” said Fenton, rubbing Garrett’s shoulders and pulling the blanket tight. “No hard feelings, I trust? Had to be done.”
Schyeah right.
“All right, Garrett?” Oscar pushed forward, grinning.
Garrett nodded.
“Fantastic! Let me show you around!”
August thrust his arm out, halting his son. His eyes narrowed. “Oscar said you’ve never changed, er, transformed, before. Is that correct?”
“N-no, sir. Never.”
August rubbed at his turkey neck with the back of his hand. “Then how is it you’ve done it now so easily. Where did you learn?”
“L-Lenny helped me. Talked me through it, I guess.”
“Ah.” August’s gaze flitted to the Ringed Seal. “Yes, I see. Friends now, are you?”
The seal arched its neck to look up at Garrett, its head cocked to the side.
“N-no, sir,” Garrett said to August. “Not friends. He helped me is all.”
“Father,” Oscar said. “Would you like to join Garrett and me?”
August’s face broke into a wide grin. “Of course, son. He is our guest, after all, aren’t you, Garrett? I’ll not have it said Crayfish Collins wasn’t hospitable.” August laughed. “So let’s be off, boys. Back up the hill where we’ll have good food, conversation, and warm beds after.”
August clapped Garrett on the back and waddled up the dock.
Garrett followed after, yet stopped upon realizing not
all in the party joined them. He looked back to find a handful of hooded guardians had encircled the two seals. Garrett also noticed Fenton and Declan remained behind.
“Come along, Garrett.” August lifted a meaty hand from Oscar’s shoulder and motioned with equally fat fingers for him to follow. “Don’t want that chowder to grow cold.”
Garrett shifted his attention to the dock and his seal companions. What do I do?
The Ringed Seal barked. Nodded its head up and down.
All right, Lenny. Garrett thought. If you say so.
Garrett turned his back on Lenny and set his sights on the stone mansion.
KELLEN
Kellen listened intently as his friends detailed the story of their arrival. He fought the rising fear within him, wary of showing weakness in his surrounding company.
“Wait,” said Kellen. “If you guys are here, what happened to Bennett?”
Marrero and Tardiff exchanged a glance.
Kellen felt a chill up his back. “Where’s Bennett?”
“He was with us at the zoo.” Marrero shrugged. “That’s the last thing I remember before the French dude knocked me out.”
“Yeah,” said Tardiff. “And he wasn’t with us in the car wreck either.”
“Then he’s dead,” said the elder marshal, Edmund.
Kellen glared at the opposing cage. “You don’t know that. Maybe he was with them and he got away. Or—”
“I’m not gonna argue with you, kid,” said Edmund. “Believe what you want.”
“Bennett…dead?” Tardiff’s voice broke. “That can’t be, man. He can’t be dead.”
Marrero sat down hard, eyes glazing over.
Kellen felt the same weakness inside him. He glanced up the dock at the balding man who kidnapped his friends. Kellen drowned the weakness with his anger. It was you that did it. He thought of the Frenchman. I know it was you.
“His name’s Henry Boucher,” Bryant whispered to Kellen. “Bounty hunter and small-time slave owner. Had a dossier on him for a long time now. That old boy’s mean as they come.”
“So are we, Silkstealer.”
“Ed,” said Bryant. “Stop calling me—”
