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

by Aaron Galvin

  I was just a girl back then, she supposed. Still crying for mother and father.

  Shielded by his Salt face, Chidi found him not so frightening now. She realized then the pair of them had not said a single word to one another, something Chidi normally preferred. Yet as she looked into the Sea Lion’s sad and lonely brown eyes, Chidi felt something stir.

  She fought the urge to reach out, to speak, down. Don’t go crazy. Remember what he did at the zoo. He hunted Marisa, same as you.

  Ahead, Chidi saw Quill straighten far too suddenly for her liking. He sped away faster than she had yet seen him swim, his blue body helping him disappear in seconds. She sensed Watawa’s unease as he left her side and patrolled around the two Selkies.

  She shut her mind of thoughts and listened intently for any sign of danger. Chidi swore she heard the faint sound of clicking.

  Quill returned nearly a full minute later, his approach so quick and quiet, Chidi near fainted at his sudden appearance from the blue waters around her.

  “What is it, brother?” asked Watawa.

  “The pod approaches the cavern from the east,” said Quill, anger in his voice. “It may be we escaped in time. Still, we would do well to swim faster. Perhaps we’ll make the shoreline before their calls reach us and make our presence known.”

  Who? Chidi asked. Who approaches from the east?

  Quill sneered. “Orcs.”

  LENNY

  Burn…burn…burn. Lenny ran under the bleachers, holding a torch over his head.

  Heat swelled behind him as the dried wooden boards went up in flames. He heard them pop with heat and buyers scream as they thundered over one another to not be licked by the flames.

  Burn…burn…burn. Lenny grit his teeth, picturing both August and Oscar in his mind. The whippings he had received over the years. The hangings he’d been forced to witness. His keel-raking. Burn…burn…burn.

  Lenny reached the end of the row and dropped his torch, then sprinted to hide behind the now empty cages. Pillars of black smoke rose from the guest homes, blotting out the stalactite stars. Chaos swirled everywhere he looked, nowhere more so than the dais.

  Lenny reveled in it.

  Buyers ran for the water, changing as they leapt off the pier. Some abandoned their newly bought property. Others tugged their slaves toward the shoreline. He noticed Kellen on the dais and enviously noted the make of the Leper suit. When did he get Salted?

  Lenny saw the marshal, Edmund, had managed to obtain a dagger and now fought against guards, his struggle emboldening other Selkie slaves. Lenny watched as three Selkies toppled their Merrow owner and rained fists upon him.

  “Stay calm, everyone!” August Collins roared.

  Lenny grinned when no one listened.

  “Guards,” Fenton shouted. “Protect the Lord Master!”

  Lenny looked across the way, wondered if he could sprint the open distance without being noticed. He glanced back to the dais.

  Guards had swarmed August and Oscar to shield them.

  “To the mansion!” Fenton called.

  Lenny crouched lower seeing them headed toward him and the path leading up the hill. He slunk around the opposite cage side as they passed. He glanced over his shoulder toward the Block in hopes none of the guards left to defend the Collins’s retreat would see him. He found most of them dead or engaged in other fights to quell the mob attacking Tieran for the monies he kept.

  Edmund had won his bout and taken up a guard’s coral short sword.

  Who’s he lookin’ for? Lenny wondered as Edmund surveyed the area, settling on the party headed up the path. Lenny waited until Edmund passed before sprinting from behind the cage.

  “Collins!”

  Lenny halted. He watched Edmund cut down two of the guards before they even recognized him as a threat. Lenny ducked next to a home not yet afire. Peered around the edge.

  “Take my son away,” August commanded.

  “Collins!” Edmund yelled as he took on another guard. “You killed my Richie.”

  Help him. Lenny thought. Years of fighting back inaction against the taskmasters kept him huddled as he watched August waddle up the path after his son and Fenton. Then, time seemed to slow in Lenny’s mind as Henry Boucher emerged from a burning shell of a guest home, dagger in one hand and a torch in the other.

  What is he…

  Lenny burst from his hiding place upon seeing Henry thrust his dagger up into August’s back. “Stop!”

  Henry did not. “You took my Chidi!” He stabbed August, again and again. “Liar. Thief!”

  Lenny halted a few feet away, watched life drain from the only owner he’d ever known.

  “Father!” Oscar shrugged free of Fenton’s grasp and ran back down the path.

  Hate reared inside Lenny. He sprinted at Oscar, all the memories of the owner who caused him so much pain careening to the forefront of his mind. Lenny dove, tackling Oscar. Then his mind went blank and his sight went red, a single thought repeating in his head. Are ya laughin’ now?

  The thought didn’t cease until Lenny felt someone choke him back by the hood.

  A guard stood over him, sword raised high. Heaving, the guard swung.

  “No!” A grey shadow leapt in front of the blade, knocking Lenny away.

  He rolled to his feet. Saw his savior upon the ground, gasping, with the guard’s sword sheathed in his side and lifeblood pooling around him. Fenton reached out to Lenny.

  “B-boss,” the guard stammered. Then, he ran.

  Lenny knelt beside Fenton. “Wh-why did ya do that? Why did ya save me?”

  “You’re…your father’s son…” Fenton choked. “F-follow in his f-footsteps…”

  “I don’t understand,” said Lenny. “Whattaya mean?”

  “He-help your people…l-lead them.” Fenton smiled. “Always liked you…L-Lenny…now, go. S-Swim…”

  Lenny watched Byron Fenton breathe his last breath, his feelings mixed on whether he cared or not. Still, he thought back on all Declan had said of the old overseer. How Fenton had given him a chance to live when Oscar urged for execution.

  Sorry, Fenton. Lenny thought as he removed the dead man’s earrings and took them for his own. He felt the earrings bind to his lobes, familiarize to their new owner, gifting him the power of mind-speak. He rose to leave, yet something inside him stirred. Called Lenny to look again on the overseer who had shadowed over him all his life.

  Staring into Fenton’s unblinking eyes, a single thought plagued Lenny. Why did ya save me?

  A flood of memories washed over him then, and Lenny realized he did care that Byron Fenton had gone from this world. He remembered the same overseer he feared for so many years had also been the one to stay Declan’s hand the time Lenny stole a fish to feed a slave condemned to death. Then, Lenny recalled the number of times the old Selkie had barked at him when catching him out of quarters without leave.

  Barked, but never bit. Lenny smiled against the tears in his eyes.

  His hands trembling, Lenny draped his fingertips across the dead man’s brow and let them drift downward, closing Byron Fenton’s eyes forever.

  “Go now, brotha,” Lenny whispered his father’s prayer. “And swim Fiddla’s Green. Don’t dive below, to the depths unseen.”

  Oscar groaned behind him. “F-Father…”

  Lenny glanced back. The anger he felt toward Oscar now lessened with Fenton’s sacrifice. As he looked on his former co-captain, crawling toward his dead father, Lenny felt nothing.

  “Father…” Oscar sobbed. “What did he…d-do to you…”

  August’s bloated body resembled a beached whale, to Lenny’s mind. He looked around the area, but Henry had vanished.

  “Collins!” Edmund raced up the path, an uncoiled whip in hand.

  Lenny watched him fall upon Oscar, tie the ends of his whip around Oscar’s neck.

  “Whattaya doin’?” Lenny stood.

  “Stay back, Dolan.” Edmund pulled tight on the whip. “He’s not your
s to kill.”

  Lenny saw Oscar’s face grow purple and his hands reaching out for aid.

  Not laughin’ now, are ya? Lenny glanced away, surprising himself that he didn’t want to watch the end of Oscar Collins.

  “I’m sorry, Richie…” said Edmund not long after Oscar uttered his final gasps.

  Lenny glanced back.

  “Sorry I couldn’t save you, boy.” Edmund laid Oscar’s body over his father’s. “But I got him, Richie. Now you can swim in peace.”

  Lenny sighed as he looked on the destruction of Crayfish Cavern. The screams continued down by the dock. Lenny briefly wondered how long they might go on, then realized he didn’t care. Leave. Swim to shore and swallow the anchor. Live free.

  “So much death,” said Edmund. “Never thought I’d live to see so much death again.”

  Lenny frowned. Me neither.

  “Then again,” Edmund chuckled. “Never thought I’d be escaping with another Dolan either.”

  Lenny glanced back. “Wha’?”

  “Your father, Declan. He never told you about us running together? The part he played in the Selkie Strife?”

  Lenny grimaced.

  “Doesn’t surprise me,” said Edmund. “So what’s your plan now? You Dolans always have one.”

  “Swim outta here. Make for the Hard.”

  “I have a better one,” said Edmund. “Where’s the Orc?”

  “The—”

  “Garrett Weaver. Where is he?” Edmund asked. “I know you took him from the jail.”

  Lenny glanced up the path, toward the Collins mansion. “Whattaya want with him?”

  “I told you once I was a releaser.” Edmund knelt beside August Collins and pawed at him.

  Lenny watched Edmund tug a set of keys from August’s Selkie pocket.

  “Garrett Weaver’s innocent to the Salt,” said Edmund. “What’s say you and I do something good before leaving this place?”

  Lenny grinned.

  KELLEN

  What is happening? Kellen wondered as Ishmael pulled him and Marrero through the crowd. The former buyers teemed around them, some fighting with those they bought. Kellen wondered if he and Marrero shouldn’t try double-teaming Ishmael. His gaze fell on the scars and thought it best to wait. At least he seems to know where he’s going.

  Ishmael stopped as they approached the stony shoreline.

  Kellen stepped around him.

  The buyers who had escaped to the water had now reversed course, turned to swim back for the safety of the shore.

  What the…

  Tall, black fins rose from the water like submarine periscopes. Kellen heard loud screeches echo as their backsides rose and fell, in tandem, and air plumed from their blowholes.

  “Orcs…” Ishmael drew the sword at his side. “I hate Orcs.”

  Kellen stepped back as a Killer Whale exploded from below the water and sent a Selkie flying into the air. Another jumped and landed atop the animal, squealing with what Kellen assumed was glee. He watched in awe as some buyers were dragged from one end of the cavern to the other, fighting for air, the playthings of the beast holding them from below.

  “With me, pups,” Ishmael retreated from the shore and grabbed both Kellen and Marrero’s hoods.

  Again, Kellen glanced back in time to see another Killer Whale leap from the water. At first, he thought it meant to crush the pier. Then he saw the animal change into a man, larger than any he had ever seen. His patchwork skin of black and white made Kellen think of Garrett Weaver, though the comparisons stopped there. Barrel-chested and bald, Kellen thought of professional football lineman as five more Killer Whales leapt and morphed behind the first.

  “Find me our Orc brother!” the largest of them boomed. “Kill the rest.”

  Kellen nearly wet himself and kept closer to Ishmael, now running toward the Block.

  More of the two-toned men awaited them there. Women fought beside them also, their hair wild and free.

  “Fight with me, pups,” said Ishmael. “Time to earn your scars.”

  Both Kellen and Marrero hung back as their owner ran into the midst of Orcs with a feral roar. Kellen watched Ishmael’s blade rise and fall, his blood lust insatiable as he hacked down Orc defenders, steadily clearing a path.

  “Wh-what do we do?” Marrero asked.

  Kellen glanced back and noticed more Orcs behind them than in front.

  No chance we make it out that way. He knelt beside a dead Selkie guard and picked up his harpoon. Watched Marrero do the same. Kellen charged into the mix, stabbing an Orc in the back. The Orc spun to see its attacker and caught Kellen with a backhand that sent him reeling.

  Kellen fell to the ground, dizzy. He watched the Orc dislodge the harpoon from its back as if Kellen’s blow had been little more than poking him with a toothpick.

  The Orc pointed the bloodied harpoon at Kellen. “You’ll die that for, Selk—”

  Kellen saw the Orc’s head tumble off its shoulders, decapitated. The massive body fell to the wayside.

  You scared, Kelly? His father’s voice rose to haunt him. No son of mine would be scared. But you’re not a man…are you, Kelly? Get up…

  Kellen blinked and saw Ishmael standing where the Orc had been, his sword bloodied.

  “I said get up,” Ishmael barked at Kellen then hurled himself back into the fray.

  Kellen stood, steadying himself as he followed Ishmael’s lead. The throbbing in his head disoriented him. The hate in his heart drove him onward. He honed on the sounds of battle, pictured his father, and lashed out at anything that moved.

  He briefly saw Marrero, shadowing Ishmael. Kellen attempted to make his way over. A whip cracked near his ear—Tieran warding off an Orc that meant to skewer him.

  The auctioneer called his whip back and forth with one hand and swung a sword in the other, ever moving forward, until he came to join Kellen’s side.

  “Stay with me, seadog!” Tieran shouted.

  Kellen nodded and followed the sounds of the auctioneer’s whip, inching closer to Ishmael.

  “Tieran,” said Ishmael, noticing them. “The Orcs have the Salt. Is there another way out?”

  “Aye. On me, you seadogs. Ol’ Tieran’ll lead you out.”

  Kellen felt Ishmael tug his hood to follow. He and Marrero ran after Tieran as Ishmael drifted behind to defend their escape. They abandoned the boardwalk and cut through the salt ponds and fields.

  Kellen glanced over his shoulder and saw Ishmael slay another Orc, then run to join them. Kellen winced at the woeful cries that seemed to follow them throughout the cavern.

  “Where are you taking us, Selkie?” Ishmael called.

  “Out the Gasping Hole.” Tieran called. “Too small for Orcs. Lead us to the lighthouse, it will.”

  “No, you fool,” said Ishmael. “It’ll swarm with Orcs, waiting to scoop us up.”

  “What do you mean?” Tieran stopped.

  Kellen halted to catch his breath, arms over his head. The throbbing in his head had gone, replaced by addictive adrenaline at surviving his first real battle of life and death.

  “Say what you will of them,” said Ishmael. “Orcs are smart. The lot who came into the cavern meant to flush us out. The rest of their pod will be waiting at the exit points.”

  “There’s more of them?” Marrero asked.

  “Aye,” said Ishmael. “They are the Violovar…led by Malik Blackfin.”

  “No, no, no. Not him.” Tieran trembled. “Can’t be. H-his lot patrols the Southern Salt. They can’t have got here so soon. I-it’s not possible.”

  “It is,” said Ishmael. “He stood on the pier and I know his face well. His pod will be waiting.”

  “Who cares?” Kellen asked. “We’ll fight our way out, like we just did here!”

  “Fight our way out?” Tieran said. “We barely got through a couple Orc calves just now and the rest of ‘em down there’s not just Orcs. They’re the Violovar…rabid seawolves, them. Th-they don’t even answer to th
e Painted Guard.”

  Ishmael chuckled and clapped Kellen on the shoulder. “I like your spirit, pup, but no. We can’t win this fight. Not this time. They are too many. Even for me.”

  “Okay, so what do we do?”

  “What Selkies do best…” Ishmael turned to Tieran. “Hide.”

  “Righ’, I got just the place.”

  Kellen followed Tieran southward, not stopping again until they reached the shack he’d seen earlier that day. He saw the door locked. “How are you going to get in?”

  “Kick it down,” said Marrero.

  “No, you idiot,” said Kellen. “If anyone comes by they’ll notice.”

  “Just you leave it to ol’ Tieran, lads. He knows what to do.” Tieran shoved Kellen aside and produced a key from his pocket. “The Lord Master told Boss Fenton not to give me a second key, but ol’ Tieran knows what’s best, he does.”

  The lock popped open. Tieran pocketed it before plucking the last torch free and leading the way inside. Kellen noted the hourglass walls as Tieran moved them quickly through the tunnel and veered right when the pathway ended in a Y.

  What is this place? Kellen wondered as the walls sloped inward, forcing him turn sideways to fit. The tunnel dead-ended near thirty yards later in a dark pool.

  “Another Gasping Hole?” Kellen asked.

  “Nah,” said Tieran, donning his hood. “This is where the Lord Master hoards his bounty.”

  Kellen glanced at the black water. “Down there?”

  “Sure enough,” said Tieran. “Can’t expect him to keep it all in his mansion now, can you? Come in handy at a time like this and that’s for sure. Righ’ lads, get your hoods up. Time to get Salted.”

  Kellen donned his hood and watched Marrero do the same. He closed his eyes and pictured the Leopard Seal in his mind’s eye. Felt the tickle changes move through him and when he opened his eyes, he felt the seal mind return.

  Get in the water, it said. Get in the water where it’s safe.

  Kellen obliged. He noted the water felt warmer than in the pit. Slimier. He noticed the Sea Lion beside him. Marrero. Kellen reminded the seal. Not food.