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

“What?” Bryant asked, acting affronted. “You believe the kid, partner? Think he’s onto something?”

“I don’t know,” said Chidi, rubbing her arms as the boat sped on, the damp of sea-spray striking her skin with cool water. “Maybe. I mean, there are five of us on board. And two of us female. Five pieces, but also two.”

“Don’t see how it could be that simple,” said Bryant. “If you believe all this nonsense, that is. Even if you do buy into all this destiny talk, magic riddles, and whatnot, I can’t see how some wizarding, Ancient race with prophetic powers would make something so simple and easy to be figured out over a few days at sea.”

“Maybe it is though,” said Chidi. “Neither of us had noticed there were five of us on board and two of us women before Allambee mentioned it. Perhaps the answer is that simple. What better place to hide a treasured thing than in plain sight where most would never notice?”

Bryant snorted. “Well, with that kind of logic, I suppose someone could make almost anything fit your narrative. All kinds of things out there that people convince themselves of wanting to see and believe in. Don’t mean a lick of it is true.”

“How do you mean?” Allambee asked.

“Just look around,” said Bryant. “Count up anything on board. Long as there’s five, then you can make something else up about there being two of them to go with it. Like, say for instance, ‘Oh, lookie over there. Them’s five fishing poles and two tackle boxes.’ Maybe they’re what Marisa’s got us chasing after.”

It’s not, Chidi knew, even as she turned away from him to look out at the open Salt. As she did, Girard’s boat hit a rough stretch of waves, bashing through the water, and nearly sending Chidi stumbling overboard. She caught herself at the side, even as one of the waves crashed over the edge and drenched her Silkie suit.

Bryant was at her side in an instant. “Whoa there, partner. You okay?”

Chidi nodded, then cleaned off the wet from her face with the sleeve of her Silkie suit. Even as she wiped it clean, however, she could not rid the taste of brine in her mouth. The Salt . . . she thought, glimpsing a streak of lightning far out on the darkened horizon line. Chidi licked her lips, tasting the traced remains. “What if it’s the Salt . . .”

“Huh?” Bryant asked.

“Marisa’s riddle,” said Chidi. “What if the five pieces are the Salt. The five oceans. Their names, I mean. The Atlantic,” she glanced over her shoulder at another onslaught of waves from the ocean they traveled. Chidi reached into her memory, then, for the names of the others beyond her sight too. “Pacific, Indian, Arctic . . .”

“That’s only four, Chidi,” said Bryant. “And four oceans are all them teachers I had ever drilled in my head back in the day.”

“They taught you wrong, then. There are five oceans,” Chidi insisted, turning in the direction of the one she had not mentioned. The same direction that Marisa had sent Declan Dolan. “The Southern Ocean is the fifth and least known of them.”

Of all the five oceans, Chidi had never seen the southernmost. There had been a time when she was younger that Chidi had thought to flee from Henry and swim for the icy, southern waters, if only because he frequently warned her of the dangers awaiting all Selkies there. The frigid, southern waters teemed with those ranging in service of the Blackfin, or else the Painted Guard on patrol, all warring and watching over the ice mines where the most violent and unruliest of Selkies were sent and never returned.

“Southern Ocean?” Bryant asked, his tone skeptical, even as Chidi nodded. Again, Bryant shook his head at her suggestion. “If Marisa wanted us to go there, partner, then why are we headed east right now? And why would she have gone north before?”

Chidi’s face flushed under his questions. “I didn’t say Marisa wanted us to go south,” she said. “And I don’t think Marisa would take there anyway. There are too many dangers for our kind there. Orcinians,” she said when both Bryant and Allambee gave her a questioned look. “Most of them outcasts and ravagers, loyal to the Blackfin.”

Bryant waved off her concerns. “Well, you don’t gotta tell me twice to avoid them waters, then. Marisa though . . . don’t think that girl minds a little bit of trouble. Then again, she does seem to have a talent for finding her way out of it too. Mess with the bull long enough, though, eventually you get the horns.”

“Maybe,” said Chidi. “But, like I said, I don’t think Marisa wants us to go south. She mentioned a few days ago that she had sent Declan Dolan there already.”

“Aye, that’s what she said,” Bryant reiterated, more to himself than Chidi, his eyes narrowing. “Sent him south and she went north . . .”

Goose-pimples prickled up Chidi’s arms when his voice trailed off. “What?” she asked him. “What are you thinking?”

“Five oceans, like you said, right?” He held up his hand and stretched all five of his fingers wide. “Assuming that’s true, let’s say there are five oceans in this world, Chidi . . .” Bryant held up his other hand, then made a fist before extending two fingers like a peace symbol for her to see before asking his question. “What’s on top and bottom?”

Chidi crossed her arms, even as she quietly answered. “Poles . . .”

Allambee stirred. “Poles?” he asked, then looked to Bryant when the Selkie marshal nodded. “What are these poles, Mr. Bryant?”

“South Pole and North Pole, kid,” said Bryant. “Sandy Klaus and Christmas, elves and whatnot. The twin poles of Earth, both on opposite sides. Keeps us all upright and spinning around, no?”

Chidi could not speak to that, but Bryant’s words had her mind reeling. What if the five oceans and the two poles are the