by Aaron Galvin
“Shall we, Orc?” Quill asked.
Like I’ve got a choice. Garrett thought. He followed Quill and one of August’s servants out of the dining hall. Glanced back to see August wringing his hands. Then Watawa stepped in Garrett’s line of sight. The one-eyed Nomad’s stern expression warned Garrett should follow his brother’s lead.
Garrett did.
The servant led them through a series of stone corridors. Trickles of water ran down the walls, almost like the cavern was alive and the trickles its lifeblood. More paintings hung on the walls, all of them picturing marine life and mythological sea creatures. Garrett scarcely had time to look at them with Watawa bringing up the rear, matching him step for step.
A pair of heavy oaken doors loomed at the end of the hall. Garrett gasped as the servant opened them both and led the group into the library.
“Quite the collection,” said Quill, stepping into the room.
Garrett followed, his head swiveling at the sheer number of books, scrolls, and other treasures hoarded by August Collins. Model ships tucked inside glass bottles, their sails proudly displaying their colors. Garrett took one of the smaller bottles in hand, marveled at the detail with which the ship inside had been constructed. How do they get these things in there?
A fire crackled in a hearth taking up near half the wall and a driftwood log popped as it burned and shot sparks of red.
Garrett replaced the bottle on the shelf. He noticed Watawa at the far end of the room, fingering the book covers, head tilted to the side to better read the title works. His brother seemed to have already found a large tome he might enjoy. Garrett watched Quill throw regal quilted pillows off an equally regal, cushioned couch that looked like it too belonged in a museum.
Quill opened the tome, leaned forward to smell the pages. He came away grinning. “Do you like books, Orc?”
“Yeah,” Garrett answered. “Comics mostly…superheroes and stuff.”
“I know nothing of superheroes,” said Quill. “What are their stories?”
Garrett shrugged. “All kinds, I guess. My mom thinks they’re just about fighting and cool weapons, but a lot more than that happens in them.”
“What more?”
“Lotsa stuff. Standing up for what’s right. Choosing whether to use their power for good or not. My favorite’s Batman.” Garrett looked at Quill. “You’d probably like Aquaman.”
Watawa muttered gibberish as he resumed his search.
Garrett saw Quill’s cheeks clench. “My brother says you jest with us.”
“N-no.” Garrett put his hands in front of him. “Sorry. It-it was only a joke. Honest.”
Quill licked his finger then turned the page of the tome in front of him. “The Crayfish’s son said he found you ashore.” He glanced up. “What were you doing there?”
“I live there,” said Garrett. “I-I’m not from here.”
“Clearly,” said Quill. “Had you been, my brother and I might have killed you by now.”
Garrett’s laugh died in his throat. “W-why?”
“You’re an Orc.”
“B-but I haven’t done anything to you.”
“You haven’t.” Quill’s eyes flashed. “Your kind has.”
Garrett backed into a bookshelf. “P-please…please don’t hurt me. Whatever my…kind…did. I’m sorry for it.”
“Calm yourself. If I wished you dead, you would be,” said Quill. “Can it truly be you know nothing of your kind? Nothing of the realm beneath the waves?”
Garrett shook his head. “Only what the dolphin-lady told me at the zoo.”
He saw Watawa perk, leave the books he’d been searching and stride toward his brother, muttering.
Quill gave a reply in the same foreign gibberish before rounding on Garrett again. “Tell us more of this dolphin-lady. Was she old, or young? Did you catch her name, by chance?”
Lie. Garrett thought, disliking the way the brothers looked on him, especially Watawa. The Nomad’s lone eye squinted and his lips moved as though he intended to speak, yet no sound came out.
“What was her name, Orc?” Quill pressed. “Tell us true.”
“W-Wilda,” Garrett noted his answer pleased the brothers.
Quill leaned forward. “And were there others like her at this…zoo? Any like you?”
Garrett took a deep breath to calm his nerves. “I saw a shark-man,” said Garrett to the same pleasing recognition in the brother’s faces. “H-he broke through his tank to get to me.”
“Did he?” Quill chuckled. “And what did he look like? What type of shark?”
Garrett thought back to the darkened exhibit, the flat panel of acrylic and the giant inside. “A Hammerhead…A big one.”
“And his skin?” Quill grimaced. “Black?”
Garrett nodded. “How did you know?”
He watched Watawa again lean toward his brother, whisper.
Quill muttered gibberish back. “My brother wishes to learn how you knew the girl in the Crayfish’s dining hall…Chidi.”
“I-I don’t know her.”
“Truly? She seemed to know you.”
“I-I’m pretty sure I saw her once at my school, but—”
“Your school is on the Hard?” Quill asked. “Ashore?”
“Yes.”
Quill leaned back on the couch, his demeanor ponderous. “And your home…how far is it from here?”
“Why?” Garrett asked. “Could you take me there? Will you take me home?”
“No,” said Quill. “But you will tell us how to get there.”
Garrett felt Watawa’s lone eye focus on him again. He swallowed hard, felt suddenly cold, and in his heart, knew full well the Nomad brothers would not be denied an answer.
LENNY
Lenny sat upon an uneven boulder, his legs and hands outstretched. He had the odd thought he must resemble a table, tipped on its side with its legs facing straight out. The wooden stocks binding his wrists and ankles limited his mobility. Lenny fought his bonds to stretch his back. He guessed it had been near an hour since Henry sent Chidi to fetch Fenton.
They’ll be back soon. Lenny knew. Pop tried his best, but even his delay’s not gonna stop what’s comin’.
Lenny glanced up and found Henry staring back, confirming his suspicions.
Henry had scarcely moved since sending Chidi away. He had raged a little while after, but no amount of obscenities, taunts, or demands stirred Declan from Lenny’s side. He sat next to his son even now, stroking the head of his pet sea otter that nestled its head against him.
The two Dolans had scarcely said three words to one another since the fight. Lenny didn’t know where to begin. He also knew Declan would say little, and less with Henry so near. Not for the first time, he cursed Henry’s smarts in demanding Declan separate Lenny, Paulo, and Ellie and have their earrings removed to keep them from devising a story to back one another for when Fenton eventually came. Now, without his earrings to mind-speak, Lenny found himself alone with his thoughts.
He hated it.
Ever since seeing Chidi and Henry, a single question ran circles in his mind. Where’s Racer?
His conscience warned he already knew the answer. Lenny refused to accept it. He envisioned various scenarios where Henry only cared about recapturing Chidi. That the crazed Frenchman might have allowed the others go free.
If that’s true, why does Henry have a bundle of sealskins with ‘em? Lenny’s conscience argued. He recognized the makes of all three suits—two Lions and a Leper. One a those was the marshal’s from the jailhouse. Lenny recalled. The Lepa suit though…could that be Wotjek’s? Lenny couldn’t remember what kind of suit Zymon Gorski wore.
Racer made it, he convinced himself. Him and the boy, Allambee. They’re out there. Free. He tried again to stretch his back from the cramped position the stocks forced him to hold.
Lenny growled when the pain refused to go away.
“Uncomfortable, nipperkin?” Henry chuckled. “You weel be soon. Once
Fenton arrives.”
“Maybe he’s not comin’,” said Lenny.
“’E weel,” said Henry. “Sooner or later, ‘e weel come. Ze Crayfeesh owes me.”
“For what?” Declan asked.
“Monsieur Oscar promised to double my fee for ‘elping capture ze Orc.”
“Uh huh…he promised to free me too.” Lenny rapped his knuckles against the wooden barriers holding him prisoner. “Guess I should get up and swim outta here, huh?”
“You are only a slave,” said Henry. “Stupeed of you to believe ‘im.”
“When ya got nuthin’, whattaya got to lose?”
Henry frowned. “Zere is always something to lose.”
“What’ve ya eva lost, Henry?” asked Lenny. “Besides the anemonies Oscar promised ya?”
A shadow crossed Henry’s face. “Ze Crayfeesh weel pay me.”
“Rememba ya said that when he knifes ya in the back.”
Henry waved away Lenny’s words. Then he stood and backtracked toward the docks, muttering in French.
Lenny waited until he gauged Henry out of hearing range. Then he elbowed Declan. “Pop.”
“Hmm?”
“Thanks.”
Declan glanced up from his otter. “For what?”
Lenny sighed. “Savin’ me back there. From Henry.”
“Why ya thankin’ me for? Like I done ya a favor or something.”
“Ya did, Pop. He woulda killed me if not for ya steppin’ in.”
“Might kill ya still,” said Declan. He pushed the otter away and looked Lenny full in the face. “I’m not always gonna be there, pup. Whatta I always tell ya, huh? Ya neva gonna be big, Len, so ya gotta be—”
“Fasta or smarta if ya wanna survive,” Lenny finished. “I haven’t forgot.”
“Then ya didn’t listen too good.”
Lenny’s brow furrowed. “Huh?”
Declan looked around to see if anyone listened. He leaned close. “Ya let ‘em go, didn’t ya? Chidi and Racer. They got to ya somehow. Made ya feel sorry for ‘em so ya turned ‘em loose, right?”
“I did what I thought ya would in my place.”
“Yeah?” Declan frowned. “What ya didn’t do was ya job. Rememba the last thing I told ya before ya left, or did ya forget that part too?”
“I rememba,” said Lenny, his voice rising. “Told me to catch the girl and bring my crew back safe.”
“So why didn’t ya?” Declan’s tone rose to match Lenny’s. “Why can’t ya eva just listen to me, Len?”
“I dunno,” said Lenny. “Why didn’t ya tell me the truth, Pop?”
“About what?”
“Bourgeois. Ya told me ya’d heard of her before in the trade towns. That loads a catcha crews had been sent for her and all of ‘em came back empty-handed. Fenton said it was a fake hunt.” Lenny sighed. “Why’d ya lie, Pop? Why not tell me the chase was a…a…fake? Something to make Oscar feel—”
“Important?” Declan said quietly.
“Yeah…”
“Ya told Henry when ya got nuthin’, ya got nuthin’ to lose,” said Declan. “But when ya got nuthin’, ya got nuthin’ to give neither.”
“Pop…”
“All these years down here, only thing I could give ya was advice.” Declan shook his head. “Prepare ya, best I knew how, for what’s out there, swimmin’ the Salt. Master Collins made ya a captain.” Declan paused to compose himself. “Ya think I’d take that away from my boy?”
“But Pop…” Lenny heard the quiver in his own voice. “Why didn’t ya at least tell me ya knew her?”
“I don’t,” said Declan. “Neva heard of her before ya were sent out.”
“Why’d she have a picture of ya then?”
“Picture?”
Lenny nodded. “Found it in a notebook we lifted off her. She drew it.”
Declan scratched his head. “How did she—”
“Ah-ha!” Henry crowed. “You weel pay now, Dolan.”
Both Dolans turned their gaze toward the docks.
Fenton marched through the square at the head of a column of slaves, all brought to witness the punishment to come. Taskmasters surrounded the group, ensuring none slipped away. Familiar faces blended amongst the crowd—catchers he had known all his life, including Paulo’s mother. He found it easy to pick out the slaves who had not earned suits. Most he assumed worked in the Collins’s mansion; those who had learned it best to keep their heads down after a lifetime of whippings for daring to look others in the eye.
Lenny cursed upon seeing the white sheen of a Harp suit to Fenton’s right. Its bearer grinned eagerly, near skipping to the stocks.
Oscar. Lenny sneered.
“Endrees,” Declan said to his otter. “Go home.”
Lenny heard the animal scamper away as the throng approached. He saw Chidi bring up the rear and honed on her. Took note she refused to meet his eye line. I don’t blame ya, Cheeds. He wished to speak his mind. Ancients know I’d neva believe ya meant to get caught.
Henry fell in beside her, his earrings flashing.
Lenny watched Chidi wince. Must be yellin’ in her head. He sighed and listened to the quiet shuffling of feet as the horde spread around him to witness.
Fenton stopped well short of the stocks, Oscar a shadow by his side.
“Where is your crew, Captain Dolan?” Fenton asked.
Declan rose. “Henry demanded they be separated, boss. Worried they might talk to one another.”
“They would ‘ave.” Henry shoved toward the front. “Every owna knows slaves are liars.”
“I’ll determine the truth of it here,” said Fenton. He glanced at the taskmasters closest to him. “Bring me his crewmates.”
Lenny watched them scurry off to do his bidding.
“Life in the Salt is harsh for our kind,” Fenton addressed the crowd. “And fear our constant companion. We gather here on this Blue Monday not only to give thanks for our Lord Master’s protection and the Salt life he gifted us, but as a reminder of the penalties for disobeying him.” Fenton narrowed his eyes at Henry. “Sir, Captain Dolan informed us you abandoned your mission—”
“Lies,” Henry spat.
“A point Master Oscar agreed with.” Fenton finished.
Lenny nearly choked. Oscar stood up for me?
“He also called me a fool.” Oscar said. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten, Henry.”
“What say you to these claims, sir?” Fenton asked.
“I admit eet,” Henry said. “I called the leetle Crayfeesh a fool.”
“Fenton!” Oscar grit his teeth. “Are you going to let him call me that again?”
Lenny hid a grin and noticed not a few in the crowd try to do the same.
“Sir,” said Fenton. “I remind you, Master Oscar is your employer—”
“Aye,” said Henry. “And ‘as yet to pay me what’s owed.”
Oscar crossed his arms. “You don’t get paid for abandoning me. What if they’d killed me after you left? What then?”
“I would not be ‘ere,” said Henry. “But you are alive and well. Ze girl I was ‘ired to catch has been captured. So too was the Orc you ‘ired my services for.”
Lenny heard a collective gasp from the crowd, whispers of an Orc in Crayfish Cavern. He saw the catchers amongst the crowd look on him with newfound respect. A few of the older ones, Paulo’s mother included, shook their heads. Like ya wouldn’t do the same.
“Silence!” Fenton commanded, thwacking his waist-high, razor shell cane on the cavern floor.
“I weel not be silent,” said Henry. “I weel be paid.”
“You abandoned—”
“To reclaim Crayfeesh property ‘is nipperkin set free!”
Lenny watched the crowd part as the taskmasters returned with Paulo and Ellie, escorting them to the center. Three repurposed masts had been erected in a line. Chains and shackles dangled from holes in the tops of each.
Paulo glared at Lenny as the taskmasters took hold of his wrists
and shackled him to a mast. A taskmaster pulled the chain taut, raising Paulo’s arms over his head, forcing his belly against the wooden pole. Another taskmaster repeated the procedure with Ellie.
Lenny grimaced as he looked on his crewmates, chained only a few feet apart from one another. It should be me there. Not them.
“You have proof of your claim?” Fenton asked, calling Lenny’s attention back to the matter at hand.
“Aye.” Henry shoved Chidi forward. “Tell ‘im what you told me.”
No. Lenny thought, watching Chidi stumble. She picked herself up and met his gaze. Lenny saw her reddened eyes before she looked away.
“I-it’s true,” said Chidi.
“Speak up, girl.” Henry snarled. “Let zem all hear what ze son of Declan Dolan deed.”
I’m a stone. Lenny repeated to himself as he listened to Chidi confess how she became free of her bonds. That Ellie had been in on the plot and he the mastermind. He watched Paulo’s face turn scarlet as Chidi mentioned Ellie and Lenny knew him too stupid to keep such a weighty secret and kept the brute ignorant of their plan.
Henry smirked.
Two can play this game, pal.
“She’ll say anything Henry tells her too.” Lenny interrupted Chidi’s confession. “Look at her. She’s shakin’, Boss. Whatsamatta, Cheeds? He gonna beat ya if ya screw up ya lines?”
Chidi’s face melted in shame.
Sorry, Cheeds. We’re not on the Hard no more. Gotta look out for ourselves down here.
“I’m inclined to agree with Captain Dolan, sir,” Fenton said to Henry. “Forgive me, but your slave certainly seems frightened by you. One can only imagine—”
“Ask Ellie,” said Henry.
“I beg your pardon?”
“Ask…Ellie.”
“Very well,” said Fenton. “What do you say of these charges, Ellie?”
Ellie placed her forehead against the wooden mast. Her shoulders heaved, chains rattled.
“Ellie—” Fenton’s bushy eyebrows raised. “Did your captain order you to free your crewmates?”
Come on, Elle. Lenny watched the hefty girl. Back me up.
“N-no,” said Ellie. “Racer hit—”
“Liar!” Henry cried.