Taken With A Grain Of Salt (Salt Series Book 2)

by Aaron Galvin

  Chidi hung back.

  “Are you deaf, girl?” Henry snarled. “I said we are leaving.”

  Chidi nodded and hurried out the guesthouse after him. They darted from house to house, looping ever wider to go unseen from those at Lenny’s trial. Where is he going?

  Once past the houses, she followed Henry’s lead along the narrow paths through the oyster fields. Henry never stopped until they reached the easternmost part of the cavern, far from the crowded docks. She guessed them somewhere south of the Gasping Hole they’d arrived through. Chidi saw no one around and the only landmark a lone storehouse she recalled passing not a few hours ago.

  She had paid little attention to the shack at the time, but fear mounted in her as Henry approached its locked door. She watched him use the tip of his dagger to pick the lock open. Heard it click free.

  Henry took the lock and pocketed it. He nudged the door open. The hinges squealed in desperate need of oil that would never come.

  Chidi felt goose bumps up her arms and legs as she looked on the blackness awaiting them.

  Henry plucked a torch free of its mounted holding beside the door to ward off the dark. “Come, Chidi.”

  She obeyed, fearing Henry’s wrath more than the shadows cast by the flickering orange flames. Chidi watched her breath escape, the cold making it seem smoke, as she stepped into the shack.

  Henry’s torch revealed the outer siding as a ruse to what truly lay inside. No mere shed for storing tools, nets, or the like. Chidi saw the cavern walls shaped like hourglasses leading to a winding tunnel.

  “H-how did you know this was here?” Chidi asked.

  “I deedn’t.” Henry ventured further in. “I needed only a place to ‘ide you away until after ze auction. I’ll not ‘ave some Nomad take my Chidi.”

  So this will be my prison. Chidi took in her surroundings with greater interest. Noticed the walls here were unlike those outside the shack. These were rougher, unsmoothed by time and pressure. It’s a mining tunnel! Chidi realized. But where are all the tools?

  “A shack would ‘ave done nicely.” Henry continued deeper into the tunnel. “I like zis better.”

  They followed the winding path until it branched in a Y.

  Left or right? Chidi wondered.

  Henry chose to go right. The walls sloped inward the further they went and soon Chidi found herself forced to turn sideways to fit. She thanked the Ancients when the side tunnel dead-ended near thirty yards later in a pool, its waters so still Chidi thought it a black mirror.

  Henry thrust the torch at her. Only after she took it did he don his hood and transform into his Salt form.

  Chidi watched the Leopard Seal slip into the pool. Circle the perimeter as if in wait of a predator below. Henry dove so suddenly that Chidi thought a Nomad or something more sinister still had caught him. She backed away from the edge, torch quivering in her sweaty grip.

  Henry’s seal head breached a moment later, swam for the edge, and slipped out of the pool. The top of his seal head split in two, torn like a perforated edge, as the changes swept down his back until he stood on human legs.

  Chidi sighed, wished she had the power to change at will like Henry and other freed Selkies had. “Wh-what was down there?” she asked.

  “Nothing of note.” Henry snatched the torch from her.

  She followed him back to the Y and into the tunnel branching left off the main. Unlike the previous passageway, these walls widened as they went. Chidi noticed the rock face of them chipped, this tunnel handcrafted.

  Henry stopped. Cursed before continuing.

  Chidi followed warily. She heard shuffling ahead and not from Henry. Her pulse quickened as the low ceiling opened into a larger room and Henry’s shadow cast across the far wall. Hesitantly, she stepped through the threshold and looked on what had made Henry curse.

  Chidi gasped as Marisa Bourgeois stood tall in the iron cage she’d been locked away in.

  “What are you doing ‘ere, slave?” Henry asked.

  “Waiting for you.” Marisa grinned.

  “Lies.” Henry spat.

  “Aye,” said Marisa. “In truth, I wait for someone else. The Lord Crayfish ordered me hidden away the moment my presence was made known to him.”

  “Why?”

  “Why have you brought Chidi?” Marisa chuckled. “To keep others from seeing her.”

  “You know nothing of my reasons,” said Henry.

  “I know many things.” Marisa replied with a calmness that prickled Chidi’s arms anew. “Most of them secrets. Would you like me to share yours, Henry Boucher?”

  Henry scoffed.

  Chidi saw Marisa’s head cock to the side.

  “Should I tell Chidi why you will never let any harm befall her?” Marisa asked. “How you loathe the very sight of her, but cannot bring yourself to end your suffering?”

  Henry’s face paled.

  Marisa smirked. “Should I tell her about—”

  “Stop.” Henry choked. Wiped the corners of his eyes with the back of his hand. “Stop…”

  Chidi sighed, not realizing she’d been holding her breath. How does she know all this? Her gaze flickered to Henry. What does she know of him? Then came a thought more haunting still. What does she know of me?

  Henry grabbed Chidi by her bicep and led her to the iron cage opposite Marisa’s. In moments, he picked the lock with his coral dagger, then ushered her inside.

  “Wh-what are you—”

  “Shh-shh.” Henry shushed her as he closed the gate and reclosed the lock. “Eet’s only for a leetle while. Till tomorrow when I collect what’s owed. We weel leave after, I promise you. Off for home, far from this miserable den of liars and thieves.”

  Chidi looked into his eyes. Normally hard and unforgiving, now she saw them weary and concerned.

  “You are mine, Chidi,” Henry said softly. “I would never let anything ‘appen to you.”

  Chidi backed to the furthest reaches of her cage.

  Henry frowned. He turned to leave, then seemed to think better of it. Kneeling, he pushed the bottom end of the torch through the slat openings enough to support the weight. “A present for you.” He stood and looked on Chidi again. “I know you despise the dark.”

  Chidi watched his shoulders sag as he left the cage, almost as if he expected a thank you, or for her to beg him not to go. He never bothered address Marisa again, did not even glance at her, as he vanished back through the tunnel the way they came. Chidi thought to call out to him as a test to see if he yet lingered in the shadows.

  She didn’t. Instead, Chidi looked on the torch’s flame. All that fought off the darkness Henry rightly surmised she hated.

  “Why did you let me go, Chidi?”

  Chidi shifted away from the flame and lost herself in the gaze of Marisa Bourgeois.

  “You never answered me on the boat,” said Marisa. “Tell me now.”

  Chidi hesitated. “First tell me what you know of Henry. I’ve never seen him look like that before. What did what you say to scare him so?”

  “I know many things about many faces,” said Marisa. “I would wrong them by spilling their secrets. Even one as wretched as he deserves his secrets kept.”

  “But you just said—”

  Marisa smirked. “What I said feared him…isn’t that what you wanted? For him to feel some small measure of what you live with in his shadow every day?”

  Chidi shook her head. “I want to be rid of him.”

  Marisa’s eyes searched the empty cavern around them. “And we are.”

  “For now. He’ll be back…he always comes back.”

  “I gave you what you wanted, Chidi Etienne,” said Marisa. “Now give me something in return. Why did you let me go at the zoo?”

  “I-I wanted to go with you. I thought…”

  “We might run together?”

  Chidi nodded.

  “We will,” said Marisa. “Some day. The Ancients sang it to me.”

  “The Ancients
are all but forgotten.”

  Marisa nodded. “It is as you say. But there are still a few who believe.”

  “I’ve heard the Ancients’ songs many times, but never once did they sing words.” Chidi sat down in her cage, her back against the bars.

  “Yes, but you sense them, no? Feel their power stir something in you?”

  Chidi tried recalling the last time she’d seen an Ancient. Massive beyond compare, the shades of a mystic world forgotten and neglected. Their long, haunting melodies the sole reminder of the wisdom and goodness lost once their legacy passed to Salt Children.

  “All I feel is sadness,” said Chidi.

  “I too know of grief.” Marisa sat down in her cage. “Such overpowering sadness. It near drove me to make an end of myself.”

  Chidi leaned her face between the bars. “Why didn’t you?”

  “Why let sadness win?” Marisa answered.

  Chidi wiped her eyes. “Did the Ancients teach you that?”

  “No. I learned that truth for myself. As you will.”

  “I don’t understand. What truth?”

  “Daar is altyd ‘n keuse.”

  There is always a choice, Chidi translated. She shook her head. “You’re wrong.”

  “Am I?”

  “We have no choice in this.” Chidi tapped the bars of her cage.

  Marisa shook her head. “Our choices led us here, as those we have yet to make will lead us out.”

  Chidi sat up straighter.

  “We are in the waiting time,” said Marisa. “With harder currents still to swim.”

  “H-how do you know?”

  “The Ancients have sung me countless songs, one loudest of all. In that melody, I heard many voices.” Marisa smiled. “Yours is my favorite.”

  “Why?”

  “Can you not know?” Marisa mocked playfully. “Your spirit, Chidi. A goodly one that brings hope to others.”

  “Hope? There is no hope in this place.” Chidi shook her head. “And my spirit is broken.”

  “It will not always be so. You swim a different current than the others.” Marisa’s voice cracked. “Theirs is littered with much pain and death.”

  Chidi hesitated to ask her next question. “A-and mine? Wh-what do you see for me?”

  Marisa grinned broadly and her eyes glazed. “Tears.”

  KELLEN

  “You did well today, kid,” said Edmund. “Might even make it out of here alive.”

  Kellen leaned his head against the cold, rough bars of his cage. He felt Marrero shift behind him. The cage would have fit the pair of them comfortably enough. Grouping the three older men—Edmund, Bryant, and the beefy man—inside with them voided the option of lying down.

  Kellen’s muscles ached from sitting in the cramped quarters. His attempts to stretch only led to more rubbing shoulders with Edmund.

  Unlike their human counterparts, Kellen’s seal opponents slept piled atop one another in the neighboring cage. He caught whiffs of their dank, wet fur each time one moved to shuffle the pile. Kellen plugged his nose. His eyelids felt heavy. Chin nodded.

  He slapped himself awake. Each time he closed his eyes, dead faces swelled in his mind. Kellen thought he would gladly trade his sadness for fear of the unknown again. At least there had been action when Tieran brought me down the Gasping Hole and into the pits. Better than this waiting.

  “Kid,” said Edmund. “Did you hear me?”

  “Mmm-hmm…”

  “Then buck up.”

  “What are you, my freaking dad or something?” Kellen asked. “Trying to coach me up? I don’t need your praise, old man.”

  Edmund chuckled. “Sound like my son, Richie.”

  “I’m not your son,” said Kellen. “He’s dead. Remember?”

  Bryant shifted. “Watch your mouth, you little—”

  “It’s all right,” said Edmund, shifting his attention. “He’s right. My son is dead.”

  Kellen smirked, glad to take his anger out on someone rather than stew in it. “Maybe you should’ve taught him to be a man and he’d be here instead of me.”

  “That what your daddy did for you?” asked Edmund. “Make you a man?”

  “I’m still alive, aren’t I?”

  “For now,” Edmund acknowledged. “Maybe I should’ve been harder on Richie. ‘Course there’s always a tradeoff. If I had been, he might’ve turned into a little prick like you.” Edmund shrugged. “Guess then I wouldn’t miss him so much though. Think your daddy misses you?”

  “I don’t care,” said Kellen.

  “Then I’m sorry for you.”

  Kellen sat up. “What’d you say?”

  “Your daddy wronged you,” said Edmund. “He might’ve made you into a survivor, but that don’t make you a man. You got hate in your heart? That’s fine. It’s what’s fueling me now too. My son meant everything to me. Only reason I’m still going is to avenge him. That’s what a man does, boy. He rights the wrongs in the world.”

  “Guess I should’ve had a dad like you,” said Kellen snidely. “Bet you would’ve bailed your son out of jail if he called, huh? I wouldn’t even be here if mine had.”

  “You’re bailed out now,” said Edmund. “That’s something, I guess.”

  Kellen snorted. “Yeah. I traded one jail cell for another. At least back in Lavere it didn’t smell as bad.”

  “Don’t get comfortable. We won’t be here long.”

  Marrero pulled away. “So what happens next, old timer. You said you’ve been here before.”

  “Not here. Not this place. But if it’s anything like the others, you’ll be Salted soon.” Edmund lifted his hood for Kellen to see. “Put on the last suit you’ll ever wear.”

  Kellen stared at the tannish hood. Imagined what it would be like to transform. I wonder if it hurts.

  “And that’ll help us get out of here?” Marrero asked.

  “Give you a better chance.”

  Marrero shook his head. “I don’t get it.”

  “We’re too far underwater to reach the surface on one breath,” said Kellen.

  “Bingo.” The old Selkie yawned. “But if you pups wanna try swimming the Gasping Hole without a suit, well, it was nice knowing—”

  “Quiet,” said Bryant. “Someone’s coming.”

  Kellen sat up straighter.

  A glimmer of torchlight made its way steadily through the tunnel. Its bearer whistled.

  “Guess what ol’ Tieran has, you sorry seadogs.”

  Kellen sneered as the auctioneer made for the cages. He noticed Tieran carried several bundles of what looked like clothes in the crook of his arm. Laundry?

  Tieran handed off his torch to a hooded guard. His eyes fell on Kellen. “It’s your lucky day, pup.” He motioned the guard ahead. “Bring ‘em out.”

  Kellen stood, along with his cellmates, as the guard unlocked the cage. He thought it funny he ever believed them willing to fight for their freedom not a few hours previous. None of his cellmates showed a whiff of struggle in them now. You’re all a bunch of wusses.

  His conscience reminded nothing stopped him from fighting the guards as Kellen stepped out of the cage. He watched Tieran kneel, unfurl one of the bundles, a one-piece suit flecked with silver specks and a black hood. It’s a Selkie suit.

  Kellen shivered at the sight of a pair of black metallic rods. What’s that attached to the ends?

  “Aye, I’d be shaking in me own boots if I was you. Shaking with excitement, that is.” Tieran grinned. “It’s not everyone gets Salted with a Leper coat. Doing you a favor, I am. See you don’t forget it if the Lord Crayfish rewards you.” Tieran glanced at the guards. “Take his clothes off.”

  “No.” Kellen slapped a guard’s hand. “Get away—”

  He felt a strong rap to the back of his head. The blow brought Kellen to his knees, his mind spinning black and red. Someone kicked him and he fell to the floor as a guard put their knee in his back, pinning him. Cold steel pressed against his skin and Kellen he
ard tearing as his clothes were shorn off. “Get off of me!” he yelled.

  “Not yet.” Tieran knelt. “First I want to play me a lil’ game I learned on the mainland. Ever play something called ‘would you rather’, boy?”

  Kellen sneered. “Screw you.”

  “Nah.” Tieran sucked his teeth. “This is how the game’s played. I give you two options. You pick the one you like best. So if I asked you, would you rather have a Leper coat, or have me drag you through the Gasping Hole again, I’d figure you’d choose a coat, see?”

  “So give it to me,” said Kellen.

  “You’ll get that, sure. Earned it, you did, but that’s not the option in question. I’ve a different one for you …” Tieran smirked. “Hand or foot? Which would you rather?”

  “Wh-what do you mean?” Kellen shook.

  “Just what I asked,” said Tieran. “I’m feeling a mite generous today so I figure why not let you choose. So…will it be your hand, or your foot?”

  Kellen recalled with distinct clarity a video once shown in his history class. One of the few things he had stayed awake for. A slave had runaway and when the bounty hunters tracked him down, they gave the runaway such a choice—a means to keep the runaway from running ever again. Kellen trembled, his breathing labored. Whatever I say, he’s going to chop it off.

  “Which will it be, lad?”

  Focus! Kellen tried to quell the fear in him. I can’t run without a foot. Can’t escape.

  “H-hand.”

  “Righ’, then,” said Tieran. “You heard the lad.”

  Kellen writhed and bucked as a hooded guard stretched Kellen’s arm in front of him.

  Tieran stepped on his wrist. “Quit moving.”

  Kellen saw a lit torch in Tieran’s hand. In the other, Tieran held one of the long, black rods to the flame. Its tip glowed orange as Tieran took the rod away from the fire.

  What is that thing? Kellen suddenly found he had more fight in him.

  “I said, quit moving!” Tieran handed the torch to a guard. “Don’t want ol’ Tieran to make a mess of it now, do you?”

  “Get that thing away from me!”

  “Would you rather have it on your head?” Tieran lowered the end of the poker toward Kellen’s face.