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

by Aaron Galvin

  “Oh, I dunno. I’d heard it in the fields ‘fore they brought me here your crew caught an Orc,” said Ansel. “Never been done before, they said.”

  And shouldn’t a been this time. Lenny glanced at the Collins mansion and wondered how Garrett fared. His thoughts drifted to the yard beside it and the gallows soon to welcome its next victim.

  Ansel sighed. “Gonna hang me soon, I guess.”

  Lenny knew the older Selkie’s sentence true yet he couldn’t think of how to respond. He watched Ansel crane his neck, the answer existing in the silence between them. Lenny too glanced up to the twinkling high above.

  “Did my son see stars?” Ansel asked.

  “Aye.” Lenny recalled the many times he’d yelled at Racer during their hunt, how often he woke to the sound of Racer rising in the night to step off the bus and gaze at the heavens. He imagined Racer and grinned. Stupid pup.

  “That’s good,” said Ansel. “Always did wonder what they’d look like. All I could ever tell him was the stories my daddy told me. He was in the Dryback’s navy once, my daddy. Used to say there was nothing in this world like seeing stars cast out over the Salt.” Ansel looked at Lenny. “You think there’ll be any in Fiddler’s Green?”

  Lenny honed on the twinkling stalactites. Knew the beauty in their small light was nothing when compared against that which they feebly attempted to emulate. He closed his eyes, conjured a memory of pink skies turning violet before fading into a black backdrop with too many tiny lights to count. A shiver ran through Lenny as he reopened his eyes.

  “Aye,” he choked.

  “Me too. Them and clear green waters you can see forever in.” Ansel glanced at the ceiling again. “Not like here.”

  “Ya scared?” Lenny asked without thinking. Course he’s scared, ya idiot. Weren’t ya about to bawl ya eyes out back before ya got keel-raked? Whatsamatta with ya?

  “Probably should be,” said Ansel. “Guess Fiddler’s Green might only be a place somebody made up. Might be I’m headed for the Abyss instead.”

  “That don’t scare ya?”

  Ansel shook his head. “Can’t be worse than here.”

  Things can always be worse. Lenny thought of another Declan mantra.

  “Guess I’ll find out soon enough,” said Ansel. “Not that I’m ungrateful, sir.”

  Lenny sat up. “I don’t understand.”

  “You’re not a father. I was your age once. Told myself I’d never settle down. What good was love when the masters could snatch it from you? And they did.” Ansel’s voice cracked. “I watched Master August sell my oldest boy. Didn’t say two words neither. Too afraid he’d take my others from me. Then I came home from the fields one night and learned he’d done the same with my little girl. Never did get to say goodbye.”

  Lenny hung his head low as Ansel continued.

  “That’s how they keep us. Shackles and stocks, cages and nets…not one of ‘em strong as love.” Ansel collected himself. “I told Racer that night, you ever get the chance to run, boy, you do it. He argued, of course.”

  Lenny glanced up.

  “Good boy, my son.” Ansel smirked. “Knew his momma or me would pay for it if he ran. I told him not to think on it. That I’d go to them gallows a happy man knowing one of my children ran free. I’d swim them warm waters of Fiddler’s Green waiting on him to come tell me stories about all the things he’d seen and done on the Hard…mostly I’d wanna hear about stars.”

  Lenny sniffled. Tried to conceal how Ansel’s words affected him.

  Ansel didn’t bother hiding his emotions. “Sir…can I ask you something?”

  “Y-yeah,” said Lenny.

  “How’d he do? Racer…he a good catcher?”

  Lenny forced himself not to look away. “Aye. Saved my life.”

  Ansel gasped. “He did? My boy?”

  “Aye.” Lenny bent his neck to wipe his cheeks on the shoulder of his Selkie suit. He felt horrible directly after when he looked back to see Ansel still shivering. “I…uh…” Lenny cleared his throat. “I had our target cornered when a Lepa came outta nowhere.”

  “No…” Ansel said.

  Lenny nodded. “Had me and one a my crew dead to rights. This Lepa moves in on us, then wham—” Lenny smacked his palm against the stocks. “All I see is this…uh…bundle of tan and blond take the Lepa out. Racer…he popped up grinnin’. Taunted that Lepa. Can ya believe it?”

  “I can.” Ansel’s face broke. “I sure can, sir. I can see it.”

  “Aye,” said Lenny. “Then he fended the Lepa off while the rest a us escaped.”

  “My boy…my brave boy.” Ansel grinned again, eyes gleaming. “Thank you, sir.”

  “Don’t thank me,” Lenny’s voice rose. “If we hadn’t needed to get the Orc back, I woulda chased ya son down.”

  “I don’t believe that,” said Ansel softly. “The taskmasters who brought me here…they said you was keel-raked for helping my boy and that you lived cause the Ancients knew you was innocent. I know the truth of it though. The Ancients let you live because you’re a good man. Just like your daddy.”

  Lenny hung his head. “The Ancients didn’t have anything to do with it, pal. I woulda drowned like all the others if it weren’t for Pop’s sea rat. Helped me pull my hood on and get Salted…” Lenny sighed. “Hated that pet all my life. What’re the odds, huh?”

  “Don’t know much about odds,” said Ansel. “But I know sea otters have a mind of their own. Had me one as a boy. Real sickly thing I nursed back to health. My daddy warned against it. Said you can’t train the wild out of them.” Ansel cracked a grin. “He was right.”

  “Sea rats.” Lenny shook his head. “Always worried the thing’d gnaw my face off as I slept.”

  “Thing is…” Ansel said. “After our owner sold me away from my family, that otter of mine was the only thing that kept me going. Bedded down beside me at night, barked to warn me before Nomads swam near…”

  Lenny watched Ansel grin, lost in his memories.

  “Used to tell myself the Ancients sent him to me,” said Ansel. “Something to keep watch over a little boy sold away from his family. You know he didn’t leave me until I found my wife?”

  “Lucky,” said Lenny.

  “Aye. Best friend I ever had, that otter. Rotten little thief that he was.” Ansel chuckled.

  Lenny found it hard not to join in his fellow’s recollection, though Ansel quieted a few moments later.

  “You set my boy free that he might live, Captain Dolan. I think maybe the Ancients sent your daddy’s otter so you could too.”

  “Why would the Ancients care about me?” Lenny asked.

  Ansel’s eyes glistened. “Why wouldn’t they?”

  The reply stopped Lenny cold. I’m a slave, he thought to say. A nobody.

  Ansel spoke before he could. “Them same taskmasters what brought me here, they…they told me what really happened, you know. They said my…my boy’s dead.”

  Lenny’s shoulders sagged as Ansel glanced at the stalactites to compose himself.

  “Some bounty hunter in your crew killed him. Brung his suit back as proof and sold it to Tieran for a little profit.”

  “Taskmasters lie,” said Lenny. “Every slave knows that. I’d lay anemonies Racer’s out there, runnin’ free.”

  “Might be. I’ll learn the truth of it soon enough.” Ansel looked on Lenny sadly. “I don’t blame you, sir.”

  “Ya should. I didn’t do nuthin’ to help ya son.”

  “You did,” said Ansel. “I know you had a hand in it, sir.”

  “Stop callin’ me that. I’m not no sir or captain, all right? Captains don’t get locked up if they do their job, bring back runnas, and their crew. I didn’t do that. Nuthin’ I do helps nobody.”

  Ansel bowed his head. “I’m grateful, sir,” he said quietly.

  “Why? They’re gonna hang ya soon, pal. Ya forget that? Gonna stretch ya neck ‘cause I didn’t do my job. I didn’t bring ya son back. I might’ve got ya
both killed ‘cause of it!”

  “Aye.”

  Lenny slumped as far as the stocks would let him.

  “Maybe my boy is dead,” said Ansel. “I don’t know. Don’t want to either. But even if he is…” Ansel paused. “At least he tasted freedom for a little while. That’s more than I could ever give him in a lifetime down here.”

  Lenny steeled himself as Ansel’s gaze honed on him.

  “If you didn’t have a hand in his escape, I’m grateful you didn’t bother catching him to bring back. But if you did help him…if you set my boy free.” Ansel’s eyes welled. “May the Ancients sing your praises, sir. I hope they bless you and yours until they call you to swim the green waters.”

  “I—” Lenny cleared his throat. “I didn’t free Racer.”

  “All right, then.” Ansel smiled. He looked away, toward the boardwalk.

  Lenny heard it too, the sounds of others approaching. He expected to see Fenton round the corner with a host of taskmasters to take Ansel away. He didn’t expect Paulo among their company.

  The brute stood a head taller than those he walked alongside. Even then, Lenny knew Paulo hunched a bit, wincing occasionally, as he carried a bucket of water and plate with the scrapping of week old bread and dried seaweed. Whattaya doin’ here, Paulie?

  The taskmasters attended their work silently, much the same as Fenton. The old overseer never bothered look on Lenny. Indeed, it seemed he left that right to Paulo alone.

  Something’s wrong. Lenny thought as his crewmate glowered at him. He heard the lock pop and Ansel groan at having the freedom to stretch. He watched the taskmasters help Ansel rise and support him upon his initial stumble. To Lenny’s mind, Ansel seemed determined to walk of his own accord. He politely shrugged away from their grip.

  The taskmasters gave Fenton a wary look, but he merely gave a slight shake of his head to warn them off.

  Lenny noticed Ansel’s head dipped between his shoulders, as if time and backbreaking labor had worn away his neck. Even as his body shook, Racer’s father did his best to stand straight without revealing his pain.

  “Ansel,” said Fenton. “Are you ready?”

  “Aye, boss.”

  Fenton stepped aside and motioned toward the boardwalk.

  The two convicts shared a final, parting look and then Ansel strode for the boardwalk, head held high. The taskmasters fell in behind the condemned, along with Fenton. Not one gave Lenny a parting glance, or uttered a single word.

  He watched them eventually flank Ansel, yet noticed they never laid hands on him. Then he was gone around the corner, never to be seen again by Lenny Dolan.

  Lenny lay his forehead against the block. Closed his eyes and offered his father’s prayer.

  “Feeling guilty?”

  Lenny straightened. “Paulie…”

  “Don’t Paulie me,” said the brute. “You’re no friend of mine.”

  “Whattaya mean? Of course I—”

  Paulo shifted around, revealing the freshly bandaged wounds crisscrossing his back. “This what friends do for each other?”

  Lenny opened his mouth to speak. Thought better of it as Paulo faced him again.

  “Or am I too big and stupid to understand?”

  “Ya not stupid, Paulie.”

  “No? Why’d Chidi say that then?” Paulo stepped closer. “Why did Ellie get to know the plan, but not me?”

  “No time.” Lenny confessed. “It all happened so fast, I…”

  “You could’ve told me later. After.”

  “I coulda’…but I didn’t.”

  Paulo’s cheeks turned scarlet. “Why?”

  “If ya didn’t know, ya didn’t have to lie.” Lenny omitted the part where it had been Ellie’s idea to not clue their crewmate in. “Ya was neva any good at lyin’, Paulie—”

  “Right,” said Paulo. “Never had any need to with you around. Makes me wonder what else you’ve lied to me about.”

  “Nuthin’, Paulie. I swear—”

  “What? To the Ancients?” Paulo shook his head. “They let you survive keel-raking, but I know you aren’t innocent. Ellie told me everything last night. Never thought I’d say this, Len, but Oscar was right. You’re always plotting something. Can’t plan your way out of this though. And Declan’s not here to protect you anymore.”

  Lenny’s body went numb. “Whattaya mean? Where’s Pop?”

  “Gone.”

  Lenny laughed. “Yeah right.”

  “It’s true, Len,” Paulo said somberly. “Taskmasters are saying he busted Marisa Bourgeois out and took off with her.”

  “I don’t believe ya. Pop would neva run. We’re Dolans.”

  “Seems all you Dolans are nothing but liars then.”

  “Don’t talk about Pop like that.” Lenny bristled.

  Paulo shrugged. “Believe what you want. He’s gone though. I know you had to see all the catcher groups sent out earlier. Some taskmasters too.”

  It’s a lie. Paulie’s mad. That’s all. Tryin’ to get a rise outta me.

  “Heard the Crayfish lost his mind when he heard the news,” said Paulo. “Sent out everyone he could spare to find the two of them. He’s offering five thousand anemonies to whoever brings your father back.”

  “Oh yeah?” Lenny sneered. “Then why aren’t ya out there with ‘em?”

  “Fenton wouldn’t allow it. Doesn’t trust me, or Ellie, anymore. Said we won’t ever be sent out again. Now we’re breeding stock for the Crayfish.”

  Lenny snorted. “Looks like ya got what ya want then. Get to be with ya girl after all.”

  “Yeah, lucky us.” Paulo’s tone dripped with sarcasm. “Forced to do things no one should have put on them. Then we’re supposed to watch any babies we have sold away. All because of you.”

  “Me? I’m not the one who ran.”

  “No, but you told Racer to.”

  “Yeah?” Lenny asked. “And who’s the one who talked about it with him all the time, huh? That was you, Paulie. Rememba?”

  “I remember Ellie bleeding.” Paulo sneered. “Holding her head in my lap after she’d been knocked unconscious back at the jail. All part of your plan, right?”

  “Nah.” Lenny studied his former friend, the anger resonating off him, his defensive stance. “But ya wouldn’t believe me now anyway.”

  “Nope.” Paulo looked at the bucket of water he’d brought and the food. “I’m supposed to feed you. Boss wanted Ellie to do it, but—”

  “What? Ya thought I’d talk her into freein’ me or something?”

  “I don’t know what to think about you anymore.” Paulo’s forehead wrinkled. “I do know you’re not going anywhere soon. With Declan gone, you’re in the same boat Ansel was…”

  I’m not. Lenny thought to himself. The old man’s given up. I haven’t.

  “They’re going to hang you, Len,” said Paulo. “String you up because your father ran. All these years, him filling your head with that crap about Dolans won’t leave people behind. Dolans don’t run.”

  “Don’t talk about my Pop like that, Paulie.”

  “What’s wrong? You don’t like being lied to?” Paulo kicked the water bucket over.

  Lenny watched the brute smash the bread between his meaty paws and let the crumbs fall across the stone floor. He glared at Paulo, his insides pulsing with hate.

  “They’re going to hang you, Len.” Paulo wiped his nose with his forearm. “And I’m going to watch and not feel anything.”

  GARRETT

  Garrett woke to a door slamming against the cavern wall.

  “Morning, Garr—” Oscar’s jaw hung open as he stood in the entryway. “What are you doing on the floor when there’s a perfectly good bed?”

  Garrett sat up. His back screamed with stiffness and he groaned as Oscar strolled into the room and jumped on the bed. Garrett half expected the servant girl to scream. Then he saw she wasn’t there. Thank God.

  “So what are you doing on the floor?” Oscar asked again.

&
nbsp; “Bed was too soft.”

  “Ah, yes, well, sorry about that. Did you enjoy the gift my father sent you last night?” Oscar winked. “She’s still learning the finer points of her trade, but I thought you should at least have some company since father so rudely didn’t invite you to dinner. You’ll simply have to forgive him. He’s set in his ways and doesn’t understand the benefits of having an Orc at our table. No worries though, I’ve since convinced him otherwise.”

  Garrett stood, stretched. “What do you mean?”

  “You’re to have breakfast with us this morning. Now, in fact.” Oscar grinned. “Come on. Let’s not keep father waiting. He can be quite irritable if he goes too long without food.”

  Garrett followed Oscar out of the room and back down the long hall. He wondered when the servant girl left and how she slipped out of his room without waking him. Probably for the best, he decided, not knowing what he might have said had she been there when he woke.

  After a few turns and a brief walk, Garrett followed Oscar onto a veranda with stone parapets. He saw a wooden platform constructed below the veranda and off to the side. Garrett wondered what it might be for, thinking of it as a small stage a band might play on.

  August already sat at the table, snacking on crab cakes smeared with tartar sauce.

  Garrett nearly retched at the smell as he and Oscar joined the owner of Crayfish Cavern.

  “Ah, Garrett,” said August. “Lovely to see you again. My sincerest apologies regarding last evening. I near lost my wits at the sight of those Nomads. Beastly, I tell you.” August leaned forward. “I’m told you spoke with them at length?”

  “Yeah,” said Garrett as a servant placed a bowl of soup that reeked to high heaven.

  “How did you find them?” August leaned forward. The tabletop dipped. “Fascinating, I shouldn’t wonder. They and their ilk are nothing but heathens, after all.”

  And you’re not? Garrett kept the thought. “They were okay, I guess. Two of them anyway.”

  “No need to tell me the one who wasn’t.” August laughed. “If Ishmael weren’t such a frequent customer, I should have him thrown out. The other two…” August shuddered and hurriedly reached for another cake. “Quite a different matter altogether.”