ABOVE THE SALT
Salted Series: Book 3
|
Sydney Gao has a secret – she’s a mermaid. Unfortunately, her mother forbade her from telling anyone and kept Sydney land-locked in the Midwest all her life. After learning Selkie slavers kidnapped her best friend Garrett Weaver, Sydney ran away in hopes of rescuing him. Succeeding, she thought all her dreams of finding others like her to swim with had finally come true. But Garrett is different now. No longer the goofy, fun-loving guy she remembered, he’s more concerned about his Selkie friends than Sydney. Worse, her mother is also mad at Sydney for putting herself in danger and not thinking about the consequences of her actions. Sydney can’t understand any of it. All she’s ever wanted is to finally see and explore the Salt capital city of New Pearlaya and to share her secret with someone. What Sydney doesn’t know is that the Salt is far from the place where dreams come true…and she isn’t the only one who’s been keeping secrets. Buy Now On
|
Excerpt Chapter
**SPOILER ALERT**
The following excerpt contains spoilers for those who haven't read books 1 & 2 of the Salt series
The following excerpt contains spoilers for those who haven't read books 1 & 2 of the Salt series
CHIDI
***
The Salt washed ashore, threatening to overtake Chidi’s ankles.
Backing away before it could, she watched the water retreat, called home by the Salt’s unending voice. It sang likewise to her Silkie mind, bidding her return to the realm beneath the waves.
“Which do you listen to now”—her new owner, Quill, waded in—“the song of Salt or Sand?”
He stood shirtless not five yards from her, his torso lean and bronzed, his legs and parts covered in a bluish sheen to hint at his true origins.
“The Salt, I suppose,” said Chidi of the waves. “Sand does not sing.”
Quill tsked. “So said I, once, until another proved me wrong. Here”—he opened his hand toward her— “allow me to show you.”
He means to trick me somehow. Pull me under the waves, or else mock me for a fool, as Henry would. Chidi thought, though she found no lie in his eyes or any sign of malice either.
Quill waved her forward. “Come.”
Chidi shivered when his fingers closed gently over hers.
“I have heard it said the hallmark of a true song fills one’s soul.” Quill guided her to the ever-moving boundary line, the place where the sands darkened with Salt damp. “A thing not only heard, but felt.”
Chidi’s heart fluttered as the waves crested and rushed toward her.
“Close your eyes, Chidi,” said Quill.
She obeyed.
“The Salt sings,” he spoke softly as the cold waves lapped up her shins, surrounding her quickly, “the Sand pulls…their voices a chorus eternal. Do you feel them both?”
Both elements swirled around her, the water abandoning its claim of her, tugging at her to come with, and the sand sinking her ankle-deep with the promise of firmer ground if she would retreat but a few steps away from the Salt’s reach.
Chidi opened her eyes and found Quill grinning. “Y-yes,” she said.
“Both songs a delicate dance, no?” He asked. “Such is the way for us also, Selkies and half-bloods alike, the lot of us torn with which we ought heed. Which has the greater pull for you, Salt or Sand?”
What does he really want from me? Chidi wilted under his stare. “I-I don’t know.”
“Your eyes speak different,” said Quill. “They tell me the Salt has long held you in its sway, but the Dryback in you yearns to swallow the anchor and rejoin your own kind.” He pointed up the beach, toward the road. “Take my brother and I where we need go and it may be I grant you that wish after we achieve our desires.”
It’s your desires that frighten me. Chidi kept her stare of the sand. “Yes, master.”
Quill touched his fingers to her chin, bidding her look at him. “I have used many names in my life, but master were never one. I ask you not call me such now. You know my name, and I yours, Chidi Etienne. Let us use those instead.”
It’s a trick. He means to win my trust and use it against me. Chidi nodded, despite her internal debate. It’s just because he needs me to take him where he wants to go.
“Now,” he said. “Tell me more of this place our Orc friend hails from. Is it far from here?”
Garrett Weaver. She thought of the innocent teen who once took her place in the Crayfish’s slave ship, albeit unknowingly. The last she had seen of Garrett, he stood in the Crayfish’s hall, surrounded by those who would use him to their own ends.
I ran away then too, Chidi thought as she looked on Quill. And now a Nomad commands me take him to Garrett’s home town…but why? What could Quill want so far from the Salt when he knows Garrett isn’t there anymore?
“It is far,” she said. “Though my owner drove the distance in just over half a day.”
“We will require transport then.” Quill stroked his cheeks. “A large transport, if my brother is to be believed.”
“I am.” A second Nomad’s voice came from the Salt. His likeness bore a stark semblance to Quill’s, save for a triangular patch, carved from a white seashell, covering his right eye. His left fixed on Quill. “But fear not, brother, the Ancients will provide.”
Watawa. Chidi squirmed as his gaze switched to her, swearing his lone eye peered into her soul, reading every secret thought she hid from the world. The Open Shell.
“Or say rather, they already have…” Watawa dipped his hand beneath the waves.
A moment later, a man breached the surface, coughing and hacking.
Silkstealer. Chidi’s lip curled in recognition of the same man Marisa Bourgeois had sketched a portrait of in warning to others who might sight him. The first time Chidi had seen him, he had worn a black cowboy hat, ringed with the seal teeth of his victims. He wore the hat no longer, his hair plastered against his forehead as he swam for the shore until he could stand.
Chidi thought his face looked as grim as their Nomad captors’ and she trembled when he looked on her.
“Brother, this is David Bryant.” Watawa gripped the Silkstealer’s shoulder.
“In truth, I care more for what he provides us then his name,” said Quill.
“He was my choice at auction, you will recall,” said Watawa. “Though no doubt you hold the greater prize.”
Me? Unease settled in Chidi at Watawa’s nod in her direction. He’s mistaken. I am no great prize.
“Cease your pandering, Watawa,” said Quill. “I am not so foolish to believe the Ancients did not show you both their faces in one of your visions. I recognize the value of my choice. What does yours provide?”
“Bryant knows where we can find a transport large enough to accommodate our needs,” said Watawa.
“Is your man a mute?” asked Quill. “I thought the Ancients sent you to speak for me, not him.”
Bryant stepped forward. “No, sir, I can talk fine.” He lifted his arm southward. “You see them buildings over yonder?”
Chidi followed his point, toward a slew of ships and cranes, docks and building eaves, five miles away.
“That’s the Boston Harbor,” said Bryant. “Take me over there and I’ll get what you need and then some.”
“So eager to serve, are we?” asked Quill.
“I like to think of it as gettin’ even, sir, but call it what you want,” said Bryant. “And so we’re clear, I ain’t no fool either, if that’s what you’re takin’ me for. I was a U.S. Marshal ‘fore Lenny Dolan and his crew got the jump on me. Fact is, I ain’t got no problem servin’, sir, just depends on which cause it’s for.”
A bold speech, Chidi noticed the brothers exchange a knowing look. But we’ll see what your words are worth when push comes to shove, Silkstealer.
“And what if my brother lied to you?” Quill asked.
“Either way, I’ll find out directly.” Bryant’s jaw clenched. “And then I’d be figurin’ a way to screw y’all over too.”
Quill chuckled as he looked to his brother. “Aye, he’ll do.”
“That he will.” Watawa took in the distance between the shore and city. “And Bryant has told me where we must go. I think we should arrive there sooner and easier by swimming.”
A new wave crashed around Chidi’s shins, drowning out her sigh. The sand sunk her deeper as the Salt pulled away, covering her feet and ankles.
“No,” said Quill, his face souring. “I would travel the road first. To learn why any from our world would swear to swallow the anchor out here.”
“Any?” Watawa asked. “Or one?”
Chidi tensed at the flash of anger crossing Quill’s face.
“You mock me?” he asked.
“Is it not a younger brother’s duty to mock his elder?” Watawa laughed. “Come. The Ancients have shown us the way—”
“Shown you, rather,” said Quill. “I have only your words to trust.”
“They are not my words.” Watawa’s voice dropped. “Only those given me to pass on. You doubt them still?”
“I doubt all that I have not seen.” Quill tread up the beach. “And I would look upon these lands to know for myself what secret treasures they hold to sway the hearts and souls of Salt Children.”
Chidi shrunk under their sparring. She focused her gaze on the ground as Henry’s fists had taught her to do when males traded such barbs.
“You will not swim with us then?” Watawa called to him. “You would go the way alone?”
“Aye, if need be,” said Quill. “But if what you have told me in the past is true, the Ancients—”
“Do not test Their will, brother. I beg you.”
Chidi cautioned a glance, the fervor in Watawa’s voice reeling her in. He is a true believer.
“They test my patience. Why should I not test Theirs in fair return?” Quill lifted his chin toward the water. “Go. Take these two and see that all is prepared. No doubt our currents will rejoin, if your Ancients wish it, of course.”
One believes, the other japes. Chidi stood silently by as Quill spat in the sand and abandoned them for the road. And me caught between them.
“Come, Chidi,” Watawa said. “We must move quickly, else cooler heads than my brother’s seek out those who escaped the cavern.”
Chidi could not bring herself to stir from the sand shackles. Though cold and Salt-filled, she reveled in squishing the grainy, sharp flecks between her toes and carving out an earthen home in ways water never allowed. Which would you rather, Chidi? She wondered. Salt or Sand?
“We’re leaving him behind then?” Bryant asked.
“He chose to leave.” Watawa shrugged. “Or believes he did, rather. Come, my friends. We have other matters to attend.”
Watawa’s confident satisfaction won over any doubt Chidi would again see Quill in their company. Despite her reluctance, she broke from the sand easily and followed the one-eyed brother and Bryant back into the Salt. As they vanished beneath the water, Chidi glanced up the shoreline.
Quill stood atop a sand dune, as still as if he were a statue planted there, his hand shielding his eyes against the sun’s rays.
What is he looking at? She wondered. Is this a test? A trap to see if we would attempt escape with only one of them to keep watch over us?
Come, Chidi. Watawa’s voice filled her mind. My brother has ever been a slow learner. Leave him to his torments.
Chidi donned her hood and thought of her Ribbon Seal form. She kept her stare on Quill as the Silkie hood elongated over her face, finally blotting her vision of him. The transformation pitched her forward, baptizing her in Salt as the changes completed. She opened her seal eyes to the swirling blue then kicked off the sand with her hind flippers to follow Watawa and the California Sea Lion that was Bryant.
Watawa swam circles around her, looking on her with his one good eye while his Mako tail allowed him to slice through the water in ways her Ribbon Seal form dreamed of doing. My brother intrigues you. He spoke to Chidi as he veered south, toward Boston. Tell me, why must it always be the rebellious and foolhardy to draw such curiosity from strangers rather than the quiet wisdom others possess?
It’s neither his rebel spirit nor foolhardiness, Chidi thought to herself, dwelling on Quill’s gentle touch and soft words upon the beach. It was his kindness.
Do my words frighten you into silence? Watawa asked when she did not reply.
Forgive me, said Chidi. Your brother does intrigue me.
But you cannot say why. Watawa swam closer still. And so it goes, on and on, since we were children, my brother winning the hearts and minds of those around us while leaving me only the favor of all the grog and wine merchants in each of the five oceans.
Chidi’s Silkie mind screamed at the notion of swimming so close to a Nomad, and the fastest of all their kind at that.
Quill has ever known his way in life. Setting out and succeeding with anything he set his mind to. Watawa’s voice shook in such a way that Chidi struggled to determine whether he spoke with envy or adoration. Now, my brother learns different.
I-I don’t understand.
That is because you, like me, have long and loyally served others. Whether through force or fear or both, we accept power and knowledge is not always within our reach, and--he raised a finger--to content ourselves with what blessings the Ancients bestow on us, safe in the knowledge our circumstance could be worse.
Chidi exhaled a bit of her air.
Your anger is not unfounded. Watawa remarked. My brother struggles with this lesson also.
But not you, Watawa? Chidi fought down her curiosity and the desire to engage him with questions as Quill had done. She swam less than a mile before she was overcome, daring to risk a question of her new owner. What lesson?
That we cannot grasp the value in the unknowable, and that our lives are not our own. Our wishes and whims, selfish or otherwise, all nothing compared to that which the Ancients would have from each of us. His head tilted when she again did not respond. I sense my brother’s rage in you--
Chidi’s stomach turned.
A shared distrust of the Ancients’ will and plans for us. Am I wrong?
Chidi said nothing.
Speak plainly to me, child. You have naught to fear.
Her conscience and memories of Henry begged otherwise as Watawa’s lone eye squinted.
You wonder why you should trust in anything, he said. The Ancients have never heard your prayers, let alone answered them, or so you believe, so why should they aid in this? Am I wrong, Chidi?
N-No, she said quietly.
And yet all you need do is look around to see that you are delivered, said Watawa. Surely you prayed for such a thing, as any slave would.
Am I free? Chidi asked, a mark of fire in her tone. May I swim back to the sandy shores and walk away from the Salt forever?
Aye. If you can shed the Silkie skin of your own will, then who am I to stop you from walking ashore?
He knows I can’t. Chidi thought to herself, cursing Watawa for such a taunt. No slave can.
Forgive my jest, dear girl. Watawa remarked on her silence. I made it only so that you might realize we are all bound together. Some in ways we know full well, yet free in many others we may not yet recognize. And all of us servants in a greater game. All given talents to use as we will, for good or ill. Aye, and at our choosing.
You speak in riddles. Chidi said. And I have no talents. No true choices either.
Much and more is what you have, Chidi Etienne, said Watawa. I pray you learn that before the end.
The end? Chidi’s heart fluttered. Of what?
We are in the waiting time, with harder currents still to swim, said Watawa. I am gifted such dreams, girl. Aye, some would name them night terrors. In them, I hear the Ancient songs marred by a deep and nameless melody, its tune threatening to drown all that Salt Children and Drybacks hold dear…and with precious few to turn the tide.
Chidi swam for the surface. N-No one can know such things for certain.
Tell me, is that what you know, Chidi Etienne? Watawa rose to join her, his pointed tail swaying gently side to side. Or is it what you believe?
Backing away before it could, she watched the water retreat, called home by the Salt’s unending voice. It sang likewise to her Silkie mind, bidding her return to the realm beneath the waves.
“Which do you listen to now”—her new owner, Quill, waded in—“the song of Salt or Sand?”
He stood shirtless not five yards from her, his torso lean and bronzed, his legs and parts covered in a bluish sheen to hint at his true origins.
“The Salt, I suppose,” said Chidi of the waves. “Sand does not sing.”
Quill tsked. “So said I, once, until another proved me wrong. Here”—he opened his hand toward her— “allow me to show you.”
He means to trick me somehow. Pull me under the waves, or else mock me for a fool, as Henry would. Chidi thought, though she found no lie in his eyes or any sign of malice either.
Quill waved her forward. “Come.”
Chidi shivered when his fingers closed gently over hers.
“I have heard it said the hallmark of a true song fills one’s soul.” Quill guided her to the ever-moving boundary line, the place where the sands darkened with Salt damp. “A thing not only heard, but felt.”
Chidi’s heart fluttered as the waves crested and rushed toward her.
“Close your eyes, Chidi,” said Quill.
She obeyed.
“The Salt sings,” he spoke softly as the cold waves lapped up her shins, surrounding her quickly, “the Sand pulls…their voices a chorus eternal. Do you feel them both?”
Both elements swirled around her, the water abandoning its claim of her, tugging at her to come with, and the sand sinking her ankle-deep with the promise of firmer ground if she would retreat but a few steps away from the Salt’s reach.
Chidi opened her eyes and found Quill grinning. “Y-yes,” she said.
“Both songs a delicate dance, no?” He asked. “Such is the way for us also, Selkies and half-bloods alike, the lot of us torn with which we ought heed. Which has the greater pull for you, Salt or Sand?”
What does he really want from me? Chidi wilted under his stare. “I-I don’t know.”
“Your eyes speak different,” said Quill. “They tell me the Salt has long held you in its sway, but the Dryback in you yearns to swallow the anchor and rejoin your own kind.” He pointed up the beach, toward the road. “Take my brother and I where we need go and it may be I grant you that wish after we achieve our desires.”
It’s your desires that frighten me. Chidi kept her stare of the sand. “Yes, master.”
Quill touched his fingers to her chin, bidding her look at him. “I have used many names in my life, but master were never one. I ask you not call me such now. You know my name, and I yours, Chidi Etienne. Let us use those instead.”
It’s a trick. He means to win my trust and use it against me. Chidi nodded, despite her internal debate. It’s just because he needs me to take him where he wants to go.
“Now,” he said. “Tell me more of this place our Orc friend hails from. Is it far from here?”
Garrett Weaver. She thought of the innocent teen who once took her place in the Crayfish’s slave ship, albeit unknowingly. The last she had seen of Garrett, he stood in the Crayfish’s hall, surrounded by those who would use him to their own ends.
I ran away then too, Chidi thought as she looked on Quill. And now a Nomad commands me take him to Garrett’s home town…but why? What could Quill want so far from the Salt when he knows Garrett isn’t there anymore?
“It is far,” she said. “Though my owner drove the distance in just over half a day.”
“We will require transport then.” Quill stroked his cheeks. “A large transport, if my brother is to be believed.”
“I am.” A second Nomad’s voice came from the Salt. His likeness bore a stark semblance to Quill’s, save for a triangular patch, carved from a white seashell, covering his right eye. His left fixed on Quill. “But fear not, brother, the Ancients will provide.”
Watawa. Chidi squirmed as his gaze switched to her, swearing his lone eye peered into her soul, reading every secret thought she hid from the world. The Open Shell.
“Or say rather, they already have…” Watawa dipped his hand beneath the waves.
A moment later, a man breached the surface, coughing and hacking.
Silkstealer. Chidi’s lip curled in recognition of the same man Marisa Bourgeois had sketched a portrait of in warning to others who might sight him. The first time Chidi had seen him, he had worn a black cowboy hat, ringed with the seal teeth of his victims. He wore the hat no longer, his hair plastered against his forehead as he swam for the shore until he could stand.
Chidi thought his face looked as grim as their Nomad captors’ and she trembled when he looked on her.
“Brother, this is David Bryant.” Watawa gripped the Silkstealer’s shoulder.
“In truth, I care more for what he provides us then his name,” said Quill.
“He was my choice at auction, you will recall,” said Watawa. “Though no doubt you hold the greater prize.”
Me? Unease settled in Chidi at Watawa’s nod in her direction. He’s mistaken. I am no great prize.
“Cease your pandering, Watawa,” said Quill. “I am not so foolish to believe the Ancients did not show you both their faces in one of your visions. I recognize the value of my choice. What does yours provide?”
“Bryant knows where we can find a transport large enough to accommodate our needs,” said Watawa.
“Is your man a mute?” asked Quill. “I thought the Ancients sent you to speak for me, not him.”
Bryant stepped forward. “No, sir, I can talk fine.” He lifted his arm southward. “You see them buildings over yonder?”
Chidi followed his point, toward a slew of ships and cranes, docks and building eaves, five miles away.
“That’s the Boston Harbor,” said Bryant. “Take me over there and I’ll get what you need and then some.”
“So eager to serve, are we?” asked Quill.
“I like to think of it as gettin’ even, sir, but call it what you want,” said Bryant. “And so we’re clear, I ain’t no fool either, if that’s what you’re takin’ me for. I was a U.S. Marshal ‘fore Lenny Dolan and his crew got the jump on me. Fact is, I ain’t got no problem servin’, sir, just depends on which cause it’s for.”
A bold speech, Chidi noticed the brothers exchange a knowing look. But we’ll see what your words are worth when push comes to shove, Silkstealer.
“And what if my brother lied to you?” Quill asked.
“Either way, I’ll find out directly.” Bryant’s jaw clenched. “And then I’d be figurin’ a way to screw y’all over too.”
Quill chuckled as he looked to his brother. “Aye, he’ll do.”
“That he will.” Watawa took in the distance between the shore and city. “And Bryant has told me where we must go. I think we should arrive there sooner and easier by swimming.”
A new wave crashed around Chidi’s shins, drowning out her sigh. The sand sunk her deeper as the Salt pulled away, covering her feet and ankles.
“No,” said Quill, his face souring. “I would travel the road first. To learn why any from our world would swear to swallow the anchor out here.”
“Any?” Watawa asked. “Or one?”
Chidi tensed at the flash of anger crossing Quill’s face.
“You mock me?” he asked.
“Is it not a younger brother’s duty to mock his elder?” Watawa laughed. “Come. The Ancients have shown us the way—”
“Shown you, rather,” said Quill. “I have only your words to trust.”
“They are not my words.” Watawa’s voice dropped. “Only those given me to pass on. You doubt them still?”
“I doubt all that I have not seen.” Quill tread up the beach. “And I would look upon these lands to know for myself what secret treasures they hold to sway the hearts and souls of Salt Children.”
Chidi shrunk under their sparring. She focused her gaze on the ground as Henry’s fists had taught her to do when males traded such barbs.
“You will not swim with us then?” Watawa called to him. “You would go the way alone?”
“Aye, if need be,” said Quill. “But if what you have told me in the past is true, the Ancients—”
“Do not test Their will, brother. I beg you.”
Chidi cautioned a glance, the fervor in Watawa’s voice reeling her in. He is a true believer.
“They test my patience. Why should I not test Theirs in fair return?” Quill lifted his chin toward the water. “Go. Take these two and see that all is prepared. No doubt our currents will rejoin, if your Ancients wish it, of course.”
One believes, the other japes. Chidi stood silently by as Quill spat in the sand and abandoned them for the road. And me caught between them.
“Come, Chidi,” Watawa said. “We must move quickly, else cooler heads than my brother’s seek out those who escaped the cavern.”
Chidi could not bring herself to stir from the sand shackles. Though cold and Salt-filled, she reveled in squishing the grainy, sharp flecks between her toes and carving out an earthen home in ways water never allowed. Which would you rather, Chidi? She wondered. Salt or Sand?
“We’re leaving him behind then?” Bryant asked.
“He chose to leave.” Watawa shrugged. “Or believes he did, rather. Come, my friends. We have other matters to attend.”
Watawa’s confident satisfaction won over any doubt Chidi would again see Quill in their company. Despite her reluctance, she broke from the sand easily and followed the one-eyed brother and Bryant back into the Salt. As they vanished beneath the water, Chidi glanced up the shoreline.
Quill stood atop a sand dune, as still as if he were a statue planted there, his hand shielding his eyes against the sun’s rays.
What is he looking at? She wondered. Is this a test? A trap to see if we would attempt escape with only one of them to keep watch over us?
Come, Chidi. Watawa’s voice filled her mind. My brother has ever been a slow learner. Leave him to his torments.
Chidi donned her hood and thought of her Ribbon Seal form. She kept her stare on Quill as the Silkie hood elongated over her face, finally blotting her vision of him. The transformation pitched her forward, baptizing her in Salt as the changes completed. She opened her seal eyes to the swirling blue then kicked off the sand with her hind flippers to follow Watawa and the California Sea Lion that was Bryant.
Watawa swam circles around her, looking on her with his one good eye while his Mako tail allowed him to slice through the water in ways her Ribbon Seal form dreamed of doing. My brother intrigues you. He spoke to Chidi as he veered south, toward Boston. Tell me, why must it always be the rebellious and foolhardy to draw such curiosity from strangers rather than the quiet wisdom others possess?
It’s neither his rebel spirit nor foolhardiness, Chidi thought to herself, dwelling on Quill’s gentle touch and soft words upon the beach. It was his kindness.
Do my words frighten you into silence? Watawa asked when she did not reply.
Forgive me, said Chidi. Your brother does intrigue me.
But you cannot say why. Watawa swam closer still. And so it goes, on and on, since we were children, my brother winning the hearts and minds of those around us while leaving me only the favor of all the grog and wine merchants in each of the five oceans.
Chidi’s Silkie mind screamed at the notion of swimming so close to a Nomad, and the fastest of all their kind at that.
Quill has ever known his way in life. Setting out and succeeding with anything he set his mind to. Watawa’s voice shook in such a way that Chidi struggled to determine whether he spoke with envy or adoration. Now, my brother learns different.
I-I don’t understand.
That is because you, like me, have long and loyally served others. Whether through force or fear or both, we accept power and knowledge is not always within our reach, and--he raised a finger--to content ourselves with what blessings the Ancients bestow on us, safe in the knowledge our circumstance could be worse.
Chidi exhaled a bit of her air.
Your anger is not unfounded. Watawa remarked. My brother struggles with this lesson also.
But not you, Watawa? Chidi fought down her curiosity and the desire to engage him with questions as Quill had done. She swam less than a mile before she was overcome, daring to risk a question of her new owner. What lesson?
That we cannot grasp the value in the unknowable, and that our lives are not our own. Our wishes and whims, selfish or otherwise, all nothing compared to that which the Ancients would have from each of us. His head tilted when she again did not respond. I sense my brother’s rage in you--
Chidi’s stomach turned.
A shared distrust of the Ancients’ will and plans for us. Am I wrong?
Chidi said nothing.
Speak plainly to me, child. You have naught to fear.
Her conscience and memories of Henry begged otherwise as Watawa’s lone eye squinted.
You wonder why you should trust in anything, he said. The Ancients have never heard your prayers, let alone answered them, or so you believe, so why should they aid in this? Am I wrong, Chidi?
N-No, she said quietly.
And yet all you need do is look around to see that you are delivered, said Watawa. Surely you prayed for such a thing, as any slave would.
Am I free? Chidi asked, a mark of fire in her tone. May I swim back to the sandy shores and walk away from the Salt forever?
Aye. If you can shed the Silkie skin of your own will, then who am I to stop you from walking ashore?
He knows I can’t. Chidi thought to herself, cursing Watawa for such a taunt. No slave can.
Forgive my jest, dear girl. Watawa remarked on her silence. I made it only so that you might realize we are all bound together. Some in ways we know full well, yet free in many others we may not yet recognize. And all of us servants in a greater game. All given talents to use as we will, for good or ill. Aye, and at our choosing.
You speak in riddles. Chidi said. And I have no talents. No true choices either.
Much and more is what you have, Chidi Etienne, said Watawa. I pray you learn that before the end.
The end? Chidi’s heart fluttered. Of what?
We are in the waiting time, with harder currents still to swim, said Watawa. I am gifted such dreams, girl. Aye, some would name them night terrors. In them, I hear the Ancient songs marred by a deep and nameless melody, its tune threatening to drown all that Salt Children and Drybacks hold dear…and with precious few to turn the tide.
Chidi swam for the surface. N-No one can know such things for certain.
Tell me, is that what you know, Chidi Etienne? Watawa rose to join her, his pointed tail swaying gently side to side. Or is it what you believe?