Salt Storm: The Salted Series: Episodes #31-35 by Galvin, Aaron (top 5 books to read TXT) 📗

here, but I see you, Kellen Shore-Walker. Just as you are now, just as you have ever been.

Kellen pulled away. I don’t know what you mean.

Rest easy, said she, tittering again. I have no desire of divulging your secret to the others. Her eyes flashed. But I will do all the same if you will not meet my price for keeping your secret safe.

Price? Kellen squirmed. What do you want?

One of the she-squid’s tentacles slunk through the water toward him.

Kellen’s face flushed when her tentacle briefly intertwined with his. Then, he understood that she had done so only to pry the bit of whale meat from him. What are you doing? He asked her, giving up the prize that the Salt dragon, Phobetor, had left him.

Our people are starving, she said of the ongoing feasting around them. You must forgive them for their lack of courtesy and undisciplined nature. I fear all these long years in silent banishment have weakened their resolve. The she-squid used her tentacles to cut cleanly through the meat, portioning it in half. In the days of old, all those dining here today would have remembered an honored guest is afforded first rights to such a feast as this.

This isn’t a feast, Kellen thought of the slain main course before him. It’s a carcass.

For all his thoughts on the matter, the other Sancul did not share his sentiment. No longer bothering to feed one another after having delivered a first bite, the host of Sancul strangers had turned their ravenous hunger to attacking the remains and greedily fending off the others attempting to sup on it as well. Like hogs crowding around a slop bucket, the Sancul swarmed around their own meal, littering every inch of the slain Blue Whale calf.

To judge the number of deep dwellers joining in, Kellen deduced the whale would be reduced to its bones within the hour. For all the surrounding gluttony, Kellen continued to find himself drawn back to the she-squid before him.

As Kellen’s former companion had attempted to do before being called away, Phantasos too raised her offering to him. Here, she said, raising the smaller portion of meat toward his lips. You would me honor me to take the first bite.

Kellen recoiled. I don’t think I can.

Ah, but you will do, she said, motioning to the others around her. Or else I must carry through on my threat to reveal your secret to the others, Kellen Shore-Walker.

Kellen snorted and backed away from her. They wouldn’t believe you.

They might. Phantasos laughed. Far easier to admit defeat and relent to me, no? Or is taking a single bite from one of your hosts such a challenge for you?

No, said Kellen. I just don’t do well with ultimatums and being put in a corner.

Look around you, my friend, said she. There are no corners for monsters to hide in down here in the dark and deep.

Kellen frowned. You know what I meant.

Aye, she chuckled. That I do. Still, you will forgive my jest, won’t you, Kellen? I have spent far too many nights long hidden away down here without some new blood to see and spar with.

I’m not interested in sparring with anyone. Kellen glanced away from her, looking for Phobetor among the Sancul masses.

No. Phantasos called his attention back. You’re not done with sparring yet, Kellen Shore-Walker. The Salt has you in its sway now, its melody dark and deep.

Kellen cued on the message. What did you say?

Phantasos smirked. I believe you heard me well enough. I told you not moments ago that I see you, Kellen Shore-Walker. Just as your now, just as you have ever been. After all you have seen and endured thus far beneath the Salt, can it truly still surprise you so much to learn there are those of us with knowledge beyond your own understanding?

I understand that you’re playing games with me, he said.

And you do not wish to play further? She asked. No . . . for you only wish to make it back to your precious life ashore. To feel the sun on your face once more . . . to escape the Salt forever, yes?

Kellen gritted his teeth. I don’t wish for those things.

Oh, but you do, Kellen, said Phantasos. And I have an answer to those other questions you’ve been asking yourself all this time too . . . the seed of a hope that my father sowed in you, she smiled, the constant questions you ask yourself. ‘How am I to rise, Hypnos? What does that even mean?’

Kellen shuddered, then, her words resonating within him, if only because he had held true to what Hypnos had asked of him. Kellen had not told anyone about his mandate. You’re his daughter, then? Kellen asked her. The daughter of Hypnos? And the Salt dragon . . . Phobetor . . . he’s your brother?

Phantasos shrugged playfully. My brother and I are two of the Oneiroi Three, said she, smiling again. And if you would more answers to all of your many questions, she again raised the bit of whale meat before him, then I am afraid you must share in our bounty first, Kellen Shore-Walker.

Kellen did not immediately oblige her. It’s a test, he told himself, studying the meat before him, even as others continued in their feasting. Just another stupid Salt test.

Phantasos pouted when Kellen would not eat. You do not trust me?

Why should I? Kellen replied. I don’t know you at all, but you seem to think that you know plenty about me. And why is it so important to you that I eat something before you can give me answers, anyway?

I could give you answers now, said she, her lip curling. But it is our custom for all guests welcomed into the Cavern of Somnus to partake of our offerings first.

Kellen sneered at the mockery in her voice. You don’t care about customs.

No, she chuckled. But my mother does . . . and she would be most offended