by Aaron Galvin
She glanced at Marisa’s empty cage. They both did. Left me here for Henry.
You left Allambee, her conscience argued.
“I saved him.”
The lie tasted sour on her tongue. Or was it only the air? Parched, Chidi tried to call some little saliva to swallow as she fought the memory of Zymon Gorski. How quick he had been to abandon her and Wotjek. She lifted her knees to her chest and laid her head against and cried.
Be strong, Chidi. She recalled Marisa’s final words. The waiting time is almost ended.
Chidi screamed into the void, her echo continuing long after the scream died in her throat.
I want the end, she sobbed in silent prayer. Not the waiting time. Not strength. Just give me the end.
Chidi cursed herself for crying, all her strength sapped. She laid her head back against the bars, basked in their coolness. “Ancients, hear my voice,” she whispered hoarsely to the dark. “However I wronged you, surely I’ve paid for it in full. Hear my prayer…bring me my end. Let the waiting time be over…I-I have no strength left to hold to.”
Chidi opened her eyes as shadows crept their way up the tunnel toward her.
Henry…
The shadows came too slow for Henry’s quick gait, however, and Chidi wondered who it might be. She stepped to the furthest reach of her cage when seeing the aged Selkie who finally appeared. Fenton?
The Crayfish’s head overseer barely glanced at Marisa’s empty cage as he trod toward Chidi. His shoulders slumped and she noticed dark circles under his eyes. He stopped shy of her cage and raised his torch higher to look her full in the face.
“You’re to come with me, child.” Fenton tossed a pair of manacles through the bars.
Chidi winced at the sound of them striking the cavern floor.
“Put them on,” said Fenton.
“H-Henry. Did he send you?”
“No.”
This isn’t right. Chidi hesitated. Henry would never send someone to fetch me.
“I may look old to young eyes, but my grip is strong as ever. You don’t want me coming in there,” said Fenton. “Put them on.”
Chidi shuddered. “H-Henry wouldn’t want this. Wouldn’t allow it.”
“What Henry wants doesn’t matter anymore.” Fenton unlocked the door and stepped in the entry. He loosed the whip at his side with a free hand. Gave it enough of a twitch for Chidi to see its end dance. “Put them on.”
Chidi knelt and fumbled at the manacles. No sooner had she clasped them around her wrists than Fenton grabbed the middle chain and tugged her out in front of him.
“Move.”
Chidi felt Fenton nudge her in the back with the butt of his whip. She kept her silence as they walked the winding tunnel and into the main shack. Fenton passed her at the last and pushed the wooden door open. Chidi heard cries from a crowd in the distance. The auction…
“Master Collins wanted to buy you.” Fenton shook his head as he made for the door. “Thought you’d make a good investment with all those languages Henry said you knew.”
“Henry would never sell me,” said Chidi. “Not for anything.”
“For a slave, you don’t listen very well.” Fenton looked Chidi in the eyes, his grey eyes tired and stern. “What Henry wants doesn’t matter anymore. Not in Crayfish Cavern anyway.”
Chidi watched him finish locking the door before he took her by the arm.
“I warned Master August against hiring the pair of you,” said Fenton as they walked toward the docks. “Told him I don’t know much, but I do know slaves, and a slave with something to live for doesn’t stay put long.”
“Henry—”
“Not talking about him, girl. It’s you I wanted nothing to do with from the start.”
“Wh-why?”
“Cause you’re a runner.” Fenton secured his grip. “Knew it the first time you set foot in this cavern. Now it’s cost me two good slaves to Fiddler’s Green, two more to the whipping masts, and a captain to the gallows soon because of you. Ancients know I’ll rest easier once you’re gone.”
Chidi heard the crowd roar approval then Tieran’s rapid-fire voice as they neared the dock. She saw faces now, all of them casting their gaze toward the water and the stage. Fenton stepped in front of her to lead the way through those standing in the crowd.
They stopped opposite the holding cages. Chidi noticed the teens from the boat and the gas station attendant locked inside one. Tieran began anew and Chidi learned the reason for the crowd’s commotion.
Taskmasters dragged a dead Selkie from the water onto the stony shore. Chidi looked away as they stripped the man of his seal coat, and she instead watched Tieran auction off the winner of the bout. She noticed August and Oscar Collins both seated upon the dais to oversee the event. A host of entrees and desserts loomed before the master of Crayfish Cavern and he seemed to have sampled them all, if Chidi rightly judged the number of crumbs and stains upon his coat.
“Sold him for five hundred to buyer number twelve.” Tieran glanced at her and waved.
What’s he—
Fenton tugged Chidi forward.
When she instinctually resisted, he sneered and jerked her onto the stage.
“Oh, gents, ol’ Tieran’s got a pretty face for you to buy, he does.” Tieran crowed as he skipped over to Chidi. “Now’s the time to dig deep in them pockets, lads, for those of you what got ‘em! You’ll not find a better looker this side of the Atlantic, I’ll warrant.”
Chidi heard her own breathing over Tieran. She felt eyes crawling over her and she shrunk beneath their ogling.
“And look at that lovely coat she has too,” said Tieran. “A fine lil’ Ribbon Seal suit for a fine lil’ lady.”
Chidi winced as Tieran stopped behind her and placed his arm about her shoulders.
“What’s say we find out what she’s hiding underneath, eh lads?”
“Stop! Ze girl eez mine.”
Though Chidi didn’t see him, she recognized Henry’s voice before he shoved to the front a moment later. She watched her owner leap onto the stage, his expression daring anyone try and stop him from reclaiming his property. Chidi felt Tieran melt away as Henry strode toward them.
Fenton did not. “Take him,” he said softly.
Chidi scarcely had time to wonder if she’d heard Fenton correctly before several of his underlings restrained Henry.
“Let go of me, fools.” Henry snarled. “Crayfeesh! Call your dogs off.”
“And why should I do that?”
Chidi watched August Collins dab his rosy cheeks with a napkin, then waved his Selkie attendants to move the great table aside. She heard August’s chair groan beneath his weight as he leaned heavily on the arms to stand.
“She belongs to me,” said Henry. “By the laws of New Pearlaya, I own ‘er.”
“Ah, yes,” said August. “By those same laws, you owe me a debt.”
“Liar.”
“Not actually, no. I hired you to protect my son. A duty which you woefully neglected when you chose to abandon him to the charge of slaves, all of whom might’ve decided to kill him and take freedom for themselves if they weren’t loyal to me.”
Chidi watched Henry’s face darken as all listened to August continue.
“You killed one of my slaves without compensating me, had my auctioneer purchase suits that rightfully belonged to me under the details of our agreement, oh, and let us not forget the uh…larger…issue you helped my son capture.” August’s great belly heaved. “You bring danger to my doorstep and have the audacity to claim it is I who owe you something?”
August shook his head. “No. I’m merely taking what’s owed me. Be grateful, sir, I only take your precious Chidi from you. I could easily have your coat and your life, both, should I will it.” August faced the crowd. “But I am a gracious host, am I not?”
The crowd’s cheers and whistles made Chidi’s ears hurt.
Chidi watched August’s flabby arms jiggle as he clapped.
> “You’re all too kind, really.” August beamed before turning back to Henry. “Guards, see him out directly.”
Henry shrugged free of his captors and bowed low before August Collins.
Chidi’s conscience reminded her to breathe.
“My ‘umble thanks for your mercy, Crayfeesh.”
What?
“Go,” said August. “Before I change my mind.”
Chidi watched Henry straighten. His eyes found her. Lingered. Then he leapt from the stage and vanished amidst the crowd.
“Guards,” said August quietly. “Follow him out.”
It won’t be enough. Chidi thought as several hastened to carry out their master’s command. He’ll kill them before they even know they’re dead.
“Tieran,” said August. “As you will.”
“Righ’, sir. So how much will this pretty lass fetch, eh? Let’s start her at four—”
“A thousand…”
Chidi heard gasps from the crowd and she watched them part as the would-be buyer stepped to the stage. Chidi trembled. Ishmael…
“What’s wrong, Tieran?” Ishmael asked. “Aren’t you going to ask for more?”
Chidi watched the Nomad glare at the crowd.
“Are any of you so foolish to stand between me and what I desire?”
Chidi heard laughter from the opposite side of the stage. She saw Quill nimbly leap onto the stage while his brother, Watawa, waited near the bleachers with a Selkie slave in his charge. Chidi gasped. They bought the Silkstealer?
“I have an offer.” Quill smiled broadly.
“You?” said Ishmael. “Didn’t think you would ever lower yourself to own slaves.”
“Perhaps I’ve never found one so pretty as she.”
“And what of him?” Ishmael nodded at the Silkstealer. “You find him pretty too?”
Quill smirked. “I have my tastes. My brother has his.”
Chidi heard Ishmael chuckle. The sound alone made her blood run cold.
“No.” Ishmael’s brow furrowed. “There must be another reason. What would you have from her?”
“Far nobler things than you, old friend.” Quill replied, shifting his attention to August. “Will you hear my offer, Crayfish?”
“A-aye, yes, of course.”
“Excellent,” said Quill. “I offer you nothing.”
Chidi heard whispers in the crowd, their sound drowned only by Ishmael’s scoff.
“Nothing?” August’s voice peaked.
“Aye,” said Quill. “I propose you give this girl to me as a gift, a pact of friendship between yourself and the Unwanted. It’s known throughout the Salt you give nothing freely. To offer such a fine specimen as this,” Quill draped his arm about Chidi’s shoulders. “Would honor my tribe and our chieftain.”
“More like make him look weak and afraid,” Ishmael put in. “My offer stands, Crayfish. A thousand anemonies for the girl.”
Chidi heard Watawa mumble. She shivered at the chill running through her as his lone eye squinted in her direction. It vanished the moment he looked away and again mumbled to his brother.
“What will it be, Crayfish?” Quill asked.
Chidi saw August Collins had repurposed his napkin as a sweat rag. He looked betwixt the two Nomads vying for her, no doubt weighing the options of his decisions.
“Take her then…” said August, “as a gift.”
Chidi felt Quill take her by the arm as soon as the Crayfish finished his command.
“No…” Ishmael stopped them from leaving the stage. “She belongs to me. I made the fairer offer.”
“And yet I hold the prize.”
Chidi noted the touch of coldness in Quill’s reply.
Quill abandoned Chidi, stepped closer to Ishmael. “Unless you’d rather the Ancients decide who has the better claim. I hear you are Salt champion of the pits thrice over now.”
Chidi saw Quill rest his palm upon the coral sword handle at his hip.
“Should we put your skills to the test…old friend?”
Ishmael sneered. “Take her then.”
Quill nodded in reply, then he had Chidi by the arm once more, his gait rapid as he led her off the stage to join his brother.
“Put these on.”
Chidi found a pair of communicator earrings thrust into her palm. She quickly pressed them against her ears and felt the familiar clinging as they bound to her lobes.
Watawa mumbled as he and the Silkstealer fell in beside her.
They’re coming. Chidi translated his words. She felt Quill immediately pull her along faster, near to the point of jogging. Chidi constantly glanced over her shoulder, expecting Henry to surprise them and take her for his own again. She thought on her new company and realized even Henry would not be so foolish to take on two Nomads and the Silkstealer.
They reached the oldest dock within minutes, but Quill showed no signs of slowing. “Change,” he said, before pulling her off the edge and into the water.
Chidi kicked to the surface. She heard the Silkstealer sputtering for air nearby and watched him don his hood. Fear reared inside her at the sight of the man she’d once run from and heard horror stories about most of her life.
Watawa’s mumbling called her back to the matter at hand.
They’re nearly here, brother. She translated his words. We must hurry.
“Who is coming?” Chidi asked.
“You speak our language?” Quill asked in his native tongue.
“A-a little,” said Chidi. “I meant no offense.”
“I told you, brother,” said Watawa. “She is the one you sought.”
“Aye,” said Quill. “Now let us keep her alive. Come.”
Chidi watched him dive, his Mako tail flicking above the surface before he was gone. “Wh-what did he mean? Who is coming?”
“Death descends on Crayfish Cavern,” said Watawa. “And we must be long gone from here else it claim us too.”
LENNY
It’s all my fault. Lenny rested his forehead on the stock board. Racer and his pop dead…Paulie and Ellie beat. He glanced up at the Collins mansion. The last place he’d seen Garrett Weaver taken. Lenny sighed. Him too.
All morning, Lenny had pondered what made Declan run with Marisa Bourgeois. He briefly considered Paulo might have lied, only to recall with great clarity the anger in his former crewmate as he relayed the news.
Pop knows I’m gonna die anyway. Nuthin’ left to hold him here if I’m gone. Lenny next convinced himself, recognizing it for a lie the moment he had the thought. Pop neva left nobody. Why would he leave me? It don’t make any sense.
He looked on the empty stock opposite him and knew in his heart he was not as brave as Ansel. That despite the love he bore his father, Lenny valued his own life all the more, especially now armed with the knowledge his fate would soon swiftly fall.
They’ll neva catch, Pop. Lenny had never been surer of anything in his life.
Lenny perked, hearing the crowd cheer in the distance. He had listened to them throughout the morning, as well as Tieran’s voice echoing over the guesthouses’ thatched rooftops.
Lenny winced as he attempted to stretch. His back popped and a groan escaped his lips.
The lone Selkie guard left to keep watch didn’t seem to notice. Meandering around the perimeter all morning—probably to keep from fallin’ asleep, Lenny thought—the guard suddenly perked. “Halt! Who goes there?”
“Mercy, mercy, friend…I am only a poor, ‘umble Lepa.”
Lenny recognized the voice and his wrists pulled against their wooden bindings as the lean and long-legged slave owner strode into plain sight. Henry…
Two hooded guards tailed Henry, though he paid little attention to them.
“Leper or no,” said the guard. “You’re not allowed down here, friend. Boss Fenton’s orders.”
“Ah, oui,” said Henry. “But I bring a message from ze Crayfeesh…”
Lenny heard a gasp as Henry pulled the guard close, then tossed him
aside to writhe in the throes of death. The other two guards raced up and Lenny watched as Henry laid both low in a matter of seconds. He swallowed hard as the Frenchman kneeled, cleaned his blade with one of the dead guard’s Selkie hoods.
“Help!” Lenny shouted. “Somebody help.”
Henry lifted a finger to his ear as the crowd cheered anew. “No one can ‘ear you now.”
Lenny saw a cruel smile tease the corners of Henry’s lips as he stood, blade in one hand and the guard’s keys in the other.
“And I ‘eard your father eez gone. Run off with Marisa Bourgeois.” Henry clucked his tongue as he approached. “No one left to protect you now, nipperkin.”
Lenny heard his own labored breathing. Fought to control and quiet it rather than give Henry further satisfaction.
Henry stopped in front of the stock and placed his hands upon the board.
“Ya come to kill me?” Lenny noted the quiver in his own voice.
Henry’s eyes narrowed in reply.
Lenny glared back. “Then get on with it. Ratha swim in Fiddla’s—”
“You were right, Lenny,” said Henry softly, his gaze dropping to the edge of his blade.
“Huh?”
“Say what you weel of me, but I am no liar. Ze Crayfeesh…’e deed not pay me, threatened my life…I might’ve forgave all had ‘e not promised me.” Henry grimaced. “Or sold my Chidi.”
“Cheeds is gone?”
“Oui. Sold to Nomads I cannot defeat alone.”
Lenny watched a single tear drip down Henry’s face as the Frenchman looked on him.
“Will you ‘elp me, Lenny?”
“Wha’?” Lenny choked. “It sounded like ya asked me to help ya…”
“Oui.” Henry’s voice shook. “I weel see your master’s cavern brought to ruin. Take all ‘e ‘olds dear as eet was taken from me. Weel you ‘elp me, Lenny? ‘Elp me crayfeesh ze Crayfeesh?”
“Ya talkin’ about killin’ an owna.”
“I am an owner too with my property stolen from me. My claim is just.”
“They hang slaves for this kinda talk,” said Lenny.
Henry glanced at the stocks. “You weel ‘ang anyway, no? For your father’s crimes?”
