Salt Storm: The Salted Series: Episodes #31-35 Galvin, Aaron (classic fiction txt) 📖

Lenny’s brow furrowed as Vasili nearly collapsed at the feet of Tom Weaver beside the train platform. What’s got him all bothered? Lenny wondered, quickening his pace toward his Selkie companions when Tom whistled for Brutus, Jemmy T, and several larger brutes to follow him. Something’s up. Lenny gathered when the other Selkies ventured away together and Vasili leaving with them. But what?

Dropping his bag of meal, Lenny angled across the cavern to reach the others as they approached the vacant slave cages. “What’s going on?” he asked, falling in beside them.

Tom Weaver frowned. “Vasili says we got a problem.”

“What is it?”

“More like who,” said Tom, his face reddening from the long strides he took and the pace he led with. “And I’ll give you one guess as to who it is.”

Lenny’s jaw clenched at Tom’s insinuating tone. Henry . . . he guessed. But what’s he up to now? Though he had seen some of the Leper gang near the train as they loaded the Selkie survivors on board, Lenny had not seen his former crew member since their earlier debate on what to do with the Orc prisoners.

The hairs on the back of Lenny’s neck raised. His skin tingled when he and the others turned a corner within view of the Bouvetøya crematorium and the icy killing fields beyond. With the remaining Selkies freed and the Orcs taskmasters inside either taken hostage, or left for dead, the chimney no longer spouted the combined mixture of smoke and human ash.

Outside the frozen factory, Henry Boucher stood among the stacks of Selkie skins. The alpha among his Leper gang, Henry directed those in human form to lash the stacked pallet-sleds to their animal counterparts. The lashings allowed the Leopard Seals to then pull the sleds across the cavern’s ice-spotted floor, the work slow, but steadier than having each man carry a bundle of stacks to the train and return for more.

Others among Henry’s gang attempted a similar sort of sled; each man had sacrificed a Selkie skin from the lot by cutting the suit down the middle, then laying the split pieces open to serve as another makeshift sled. Of those, the Lepers in human form were piling more stacks to their makeshift sleds.

All came to a stop, however, when the Lepers noticed another Selkie crew coming to stand between them and their path to reaching the train.

As the opposing groups halted within twenty yards of one another, Lenny slipped toward the front that he might stand alongside Jemmy T, Brutus, and Vasili. All stood in silent watch as Tom Weaver moved out in front of them.

“What’re you and your boys doing here, Henry?” Tom asked.

Henry shrugged. “Your people gave orders to load the train with supplies, no?” He asked, giving a lazy nod to his gang and the Selkie suits they claimed. “We Lepers are happy to obey.”

Sure you are, Lenny thought, his pulse quickening at the scarred up, former convicts gathering around Henry.

Tom Weaver scoffed at Henry’s claim. “Aye, we need supplies,” he said. “Food. Water. Weapons. Armor. Things like that.”

“A Selkie suit is not a weapon?” Henry asked. “And what of warmth, hmm?”

“Pretty sure us being Selkies is the reason we were all sent down in the first place,” said Tom. “We got warmth already, Henry. So, why don’t you tell your boys here to do something useful instead. Come back to help us load up what we do need.”

Henry did not budge from his position. “And what of our efforts here?” he asked. “You would leave these suits behind?”

Tom nodded. “Those people boarding the trains don’t need any more reminders of what they been through down here. No more than us that were sent down to the City of Song.”

Henry stroked his cheeks. “And what will they do when they reach the City of Pearls?” he asked. “How do you plan to help your new Selkie friends to survive there, hmm?” He reached out to the nearest stack, running his fingers over the ash-covered pattern of a Sea Lion suit. “Once we reach the capital, these suits could help them to pay for any number of things, no? Food . . . shelter . . . freedom for their families still trapped in chains?”

Lenny snorted. “Since when are you the sharing type, Henry? Or the kind to think about anyone but yourself for that matter?”

Henry’s cold gaze locked on Lenny. “You would not be here if I was selfish, nipperkin. Or do you forget what I did for you in Crayfish Cavern? Hmm? When you were locked away, condemned to die?” His lip curled. “You would be dead already if not for me, little man.”

Lenny bristled at the truth. “You’re doing this for you, pal,” he argued instead. “You don’t got none of us fooled here.”

Henry dismissed him with a wave. “And yet you are all fools to consider leaving these suits behind. Whatever plans you have for reaching New Pearlaya, they will not work. There are too many Orc soldiers in that city . . . and with our Selkie numbers far too few.” His gaze glinted with knowing certainty. “The Orcs will win, little Lenny, and then they will send you all back here to begin anew. And when that happens, all your efforts and your father’s death will be for naught. But these?” He again patted the stack of Selkie skins beside him. “These could be of service to some of those other Selkies that you pretend to care for, yes?” Henry’s gaze shifted to each of those standing with Lenny and Tom Weaver in turn. “Or, perhaps, you would use the money these suits will fetch at market for all manner of things. Bribes to pay off guards who will look the other way when smuggling people outside the city walls?” Henry focused on Jemmy T, then looked at Brutus. “Or to pay someone who might help them to find their