House of Salt and Sorrows (Sisters of Salt #1)

They released the whales first as the Churning pageant began.

The floating silk lanterns, shaped as orcas and belugas, lit the stage with a luminous golden glow. Somewhere in the wings, a mangled horn bellowed out notes, sounding eerily similar to a humpback’s calls. Actors tied the lanterns’ ropes to bits of scenery painted like a coral reef.

Next came puppets of sharks and sailfish, then squid and starfish dyed red and orange and elaborately articulated. Waves of fish, each tied to an individual line, swam out. The puppeteers were true artists, making the fish shift at the same time, just as a real school would. The glittering silver fins reflected the light of the silk balloons above.

A drumbeat sounded, booming so loudly I thought my sternum might shatter. Another and another built toward a raucous climax. I felt the audience shift its attention to the ducal box, stealing quick peeks at our family’s reaction as the final sea creature emerged onstage.

Purple tentacles shot out of a small rock, each manipulated by children dressed in black. The head popped free, buoyant with hot air and steam. The Thaumas octopus spread across the stage, performing an elaborate dance timed to the music. At the end, on the final beat, its eyes lit up, piercing and bright.

The audience erupted in applause. As the puppeteers shifted to the next scene in the pageant, I glanced at the Graces. They were enraptured, leaning on the box railing so they wouldn’t miss a moment.

“How impressive,” whispered Morella, next to me.

Our guests murmured their agreement, and I was pleased to see Papa put his hand on her knee and give it an affectionate squeeze.

It had been a wonderful day. We sailed to Astrea after breakfast and spent the afternoon taking part in the festival’s many delights. We watched local fishermen bring silver hooks to Pontus’s altar as thanks for a bounteous season. Throughout the week, the hooks would be made into nautical sculptures by artists and displayed in the streets during Churnings to come. At night, they shone in the dark, brushed with glowing algae harvested from the bay.

We stuffed ourselves with treats from street vendors. Spun-sugar sea glass, glazed almond cookies shaped like sand dollars, roasted corn, and bowls of thick clam chowder were offered on every corner, along with more exotic fare: red frog crabs and whelks, jellyfish jerky and sea urchins. The children raced up and down the beach with silk kites painted like stingrays and seahorses. Glass orbs were strung across the town square like humpbacks’ bubble nets.

At the end of the pageant, the actor playing Pontus stepped forward and announced there would be a grand fireworks display at midnight, just two hours away.

“May we stay, Papa?” Mercy asked, shifting in her seat. “Oh, please?”

The rest of the girls joined in, begging and beguiling. Their voices rose to a clamor before Papa raised his hands and looked to the other adults for their thoughts. Seeing the round of nods, he smiled at the group. “Fireworks it is!”

“It’s getting a bit chilly, don’t you think, Ortun?” Regnard asked, slapping him across the back. “What say we while the time away in that tavern I saw just down the road? A round of Tangled Sirens for everyone!”

Tangled Sirens were special drinks, served only at Churning. A mixture of spirits and bitters, they boasted a tangy kick of salted kelp.

“I never could stomach those. You men go off and enjoy yourselves,” Amelia suggested. “Come, ladies, isn’t there a bakery not far from here?”

The little girls groaned, wanting to be out in the spectacle of Churning for as long as they could.

I caught the look in Morella’s eyes. It had been a long day for her, and though she’d not complained, her feet must be aching. “I saw a vendor selling flavored ices near the sculptures in the park. Who wants stuffy cake and tea when we can have shaved ice and cream? My treat!”

With a squeal, the girls darted off down a side street. Lenore and Ligeia ran after them, trying to keep the five in line. Camille followed several paces behind, more interested in the brightly lit shopwindows than the celebration around her. Rosalie winked at Ethan before sauntering away, clearly hoping he’d trail after her.

“We’ll join you later,” I promised the older women. “Just before the fireworks start.”

Morella linked arms with Rebecca as they headed off. I remembered how lonely she’d been the night before, and my heart smiled for her. Maybe she would make friends this week after all.

Papa released a scattering of coins into my hand. “For your ices.”

My mouth dropped open. “This would buy shaved ice for years.” I tried to give the gold florettes back, but he waved me off. His eyes looked wild in the moonlight.

“Then spend it on something else, my sweet. It’s a celebration. Tonight is for extravagance.”

The captains and clerks hollered a bawdy cry behind him. Papa swung a brotherly arm around Sterland, heading inside. Cassius was the last one out. At the threshold, he looked over his shoulder.

“What am I about to get into?”

His eyes danced, and I swear he winked at me. I wanted to believe it was more than a trick of the light, but his comment about the contest last night still stung.

“Don’t let the Sirens lure you too far. I’ve heard they’re potent.”

I turned and hurried after my sisters. The men’s shouts echoed through the streets. They weren’t the only revelers this night, but they were certainly the loudest.

The park had been transformed into the staging area for an ice sculpture contest. Glittering forms rose up into the night, lit with focused lanterns. Most shone a soft white, but others had colored gels in them, casting brilliant tones on the crystal statues.

I found the girls circled around an icy palace in the center of the park, pointing out startling details. Frosted flags spun in the breeze, hinged with little bits of metal. The brick edges were softly rounded, making the architecture flow with a dreamy swirl.

“Look at the tridents on the bridge!” one of the Morganstin girls said. “Just like in the play!”

“This is Pontus’s castle,” Mercy explained. “He carries a great trident with him wherever he goes.”

“I thought he lived in the ocean. There aren’t castles in the ocean.”

“He lives in the Brine,” I said, stepping in. “It’s a part of the Sanctum, where the gods live, which is broken into different kingdoms. Pontus gets the Brine, Vaipany the Corona, Arina the Ardor…. Didn’t your parents teach you this?”

They shook their heads.

“Ooh, look!” Verity cried, pointing behind us and ending the conversation.

Swaths of blue linen hung from a semicircle of trees. In the middle of the grove, an old woman had a series of curious metal boxes. Pinprick holes were hammered into their sides, and as she inserted lanterns into the boxes, dazzling images were projected onto the cloth strips. With a touch of her finger, the boxes spun. Dolphins leapt in and out of waves, seagulls soared by with wings flapping, and great puffs of air plumed from breaching whales.

A crowd gathered around her, applauding, as she created her illusions. Farther down the street, on the veranda of another tavern, a group of fishermen burst into a lusty sea chantey.

“I love Churning,” Rosalie whispered, her shoulder bumping into mine as we shared this special moment.

Her eyes caught sight of something in the mob of people. I followed her gaze. Not something. Someone. Ethan waved at her from the corner, and I saw Jules and Captain Morganstin among the crowd. They must have come to see what the commotion was all about.

“I think I’m just going to…” She trailed off, unable to come up with a plausible excuse to leave.

“Yes…I think you’d better just,” I teased her, pushing her away with a knowing smile.

She slipped through the throng and was across the street before I could blink.

There was a titter of giggles to my left, and I turned to see Camille throwing her head back in laughter at something Fisher said. He must have come over from the pub as well.

Just beyond them, a man stood, his slim form cast in dark silhouette against the colorful lights. Though I couldn’t be entirely certain, I felt his eyes fall on me, his gaze a tangible pressure. As I stared, a memory clinked loose in the back of my mind.

“I know him,” I whispered.

“Hmm?” Ligeia asked, drawing her attention from the light box show.

“That man over there. I recognize him, but I’m not sure from where.”

As if he sensed I was talking about him, he raised his chin, beckoning me over.

“What man? There’re men everywhere,” Ligeia said, sweeping her eyes over the crowd. “Oh, look at the waves!” she exclaimed, turning back to the performance.

“It’s gotten too crowded for me,” I said, pressing one of the coins into her hand. “Can you watch the girls? I need to get some fresh air.”

She nodded, and I weaved my way through the crowds, fighting through even more onlookers as they joined the show. When I reached the spot in the park where the dark figure had stood, he was gone.

I turned in a circle, trying to spot anyone with his unusually tall carriage. A shadow moved against the trees at the edge of the park, the figure’s silver hair catching in the moonlight. He looked back once as if to make certain I was following him.

As he turned, the gas lamps briefly illuminated his jacket, reflecting the golden threads embroidered across the right shoulder.

A three-headed dragon.

It was the man from the first ball, in Pelage.

What was he doing in Astrea?

Curious, I ducked down a narrow alley, and then another, unsure of where I was headed. Every time I thought I was catching up, I caught a glimpse of the dragon man’s coat disappearing down another street. In the dark, with the decorations for Churning, I soon became completely turned around. I pushed through the long strands of sea glass beads and ropes of fake pearls that formed a curtain across the alley’s exit.

The street I emerged onto looked different from the harbor or the town square.

Darker, dirtier.

Danker too.

The first storefront I saw was bathed in a pink glow, and my stomach turned as I guessed at what merchandise was sold behind such lurid trappings. Several other pink houses lined the street. Some had girls in the windows, waving and posing. Others were awash with tinsel and gaudy paste jewels.

The dragon man was gone, vanished into thin air, and as I glanced about, trying to get my bearings, I wondered why I’d ever followed him in the first place.

As I turned to head back, a pack of young women traipsed out from one of the pink houses, stopping just in front of the alleyway. They were made up as Sirens. Long curls cascaded down bare backs, their goose-bumped skin painted with bronze and silver glitter. Sand dollars and starfish covered their breasts, but just barely, and too few gauzy green ribbons made up their skirts. Some wore heels with impossibly high platforms. Others carried parasols done up as illuminated jellyfish over their shoulders.

“You there!” one called out, and I instantly felt my face flush, horrified she was speaking to me. “Come to drop anchor, sailor?”

A trio of laughter sounded behind me, and the women broke ranks to stare down these potential customers. I ducked back into the alley, my heart pounding in my throat.

“You’re a long way from the park, aren’t you?” a voice murmured in my ear.

I let out a startled shriek, certain the dragon man had doubled back to surprise me, but instead Cassius stood in the alleyway, his blue eyes shrouded in shadows.

“I could say the same for you. I thought you were with Papa.”

He pushed a lock of hair from his eyes, his nose wrinkling even as he smiled. “Tangled Sirens aren’t exactly to my taste. Ivor and Jules started in on the mystery of the shoes again, and I got out while I could. I saw you leaving the park in a rush and thought you might need help.”

I glanced down the alleyway, but the dragon man was truly gone. “Do you know how to get back to the park? I’m afraid I’m all muddled.”

His smile warmed. “Let’s find our way together.”

We headed down the alley, escaping from the street of pink houses. Coming out onto the next road, Cassius stepped on a sheet of black ice and slipped. He grabbed at me instinctively, and I struggled to hold him up, but we both spun, then crashed to the ground in a tangle of cloaks and limbs.

“Are you all right?”

His voice was tinged with real concern, but I brushed it aside with a laugh. We’d been far more graceful on the dance floor. “I’m fine. Are you hurt?”

“Just my pride.”

He helped me back to my feet, and with a teasing smile, I offered my arm to him as a gentlemen might to a lady. He rubbed his bruised hip, then accepted with a snort of laughter.

“Have you enjoyed the day?” I asked as we walked the street, trying to find the quickest route back to the town square. I’d spent most of the time with my sisters. Whenever I snuck a look toward Cassius, he’d been in deep conversation with Regnard or Papa.

“Very much. It’s quite different from the festivals I’m used to.”

“I never asked what you are…Who do you—”

“The People of the Stars,” he supplied, amusement written across his face as I struggled with my question. “Versia.”

“The Night Queen.” I looked up at the sky, the stars dazzling across the inky expanse. “It seems like she’s enjoying the festivities as well.”

“I think so.”

“Where will you go after Churning is over?”

“I still have a bit of work in Selkirk, clearing out the last of my father’s papers, settling some of his final business, but I haven’t given much thought to what happens after that. Walter left me some money and his house. Perhaps I’ll stay there, learn to sail, learn to fish, or—”

“It sounds wonderful,” I interrupted, picturing a small house and dock, quiet mornings waking before the sun, readying the nets for the day’s work. Real work.

One of Cassius’s eyebrows quirked up. “Stinky fish bait and traps?”

“You have the whole world open to you. That’s wonderful.”

He studied me. “What are your grand dreams, Annaleigh? If you could go anywhere, do anything you wanted, what would it be?”

“There’s a lighthouse out to the west. We call her Old Maude. Ever since I was a little girl, I’ve wanted to live there, to keep her clean and take care of the light. When the apprentice position came up, oh, how I hoped and prayed it would be mine. But Papa sent Fisher instead.”

“The whole world is open to you and you want to hop a few islands over?” Though his question was clearly meant to tease me, true curiosity shone in his eyes.

“I’d never want to leave the sea. It’s my home.”

We turned down another street and heard the murmurs of a crowd. A small stand at the far end of the road sold hot chocolate and tea. Steam rose from the little clapboard stall, a welcome sight as the night grew colder.

“Would you like one?” Cassius asked, rummaging through his pocket for coins.

“Please.”

“There’s no seaweed or anything like that in this, is there?” he joked with the man, pointing toward the copper pots. “Just chocolate?”

“Best in all the islands,” the vendor boasted with a grin.

“Excellent. We’ll take two.”

“Thank you,” I said, accepting the tin mug.

Cassius took a sip and made a face. “I can still taste salt. Does it go into everything here?” The vendor laughed, and he tried it again. “With the caramel, it’s not as bad, but seriously! In every drink!”

We wandered into the park, weaving our way through the ice sculptures until we found a quiet section with an open bench. It was right beside a flotilla of sea turtles, the ice tinted green and lit with blue light.

“Those are my favorites.”

“I know,” he said, taking another sip of the chocolate.

I studied him. “Do you?” I thought back over every conversation we’d had but couldn’t recall mentioning sea turtles before.

His face froze for a split second before breaking into a smile. “Verity told me. Earlier this afternoon—at the kite contest. She’s quite enamored of her older sister, you know.”

I traced the rim of my cup thoughtfully. He’d been talking to Verity about me! It pleased me more than I cared to admit. “I’m awfully fond of her as well.”

“I can see why. She’s charming. All your sisters are. But I ought to tell you…” He reached out and tapped my thumbnail. It was a strangely intimate touch, drawing me closer to him. “I think I like you best of all.”

I couldn’t help my heated grin as his words washed over me, pulling me under and heading straight for my heart. “You do? I was certain…” I trailed off, not wanting to admit my worries from the night before.

He nodded seriously. “Oh yes. Best of all.” He tapped my thumb again, lingering for a moment. “No house or title or lands could ever possibly persuade me otherwise.”

Ashamed at being so easily read, I felt my cheeks color. “But last night you said…”

“I felt terrible about that! I saw how the others were salivating over Highmoor and wanted to make a joke—not an especially good one—but you scurried off before we could laugh at it.”

I looked down at my lap, squirming. “It’s just that so many others are after exactly that. It was easy to believe you were as well.”

“Oh, Annaleigh, forgive me, please. I hate to think I upset you.” He cupped my cheek, his fingertips dancing across my jawline and sending the most delicious flutters down into my chest. “Especially when it’s so patently untrue. I meant what I said—best of all.”

My mouth was too dry to speak, so I bobbed my head, accepting his apology.

Cassius turned back to the statue, smiling and utterly at ease. “Now, tell me about these turtles of yours.”

I sifted through my memories, trying to grab a bright, shining one with all my sisters together, happy and whole.

“It was the summer before Mama passed away. She was pregnant with Verity. We liked to go down to the beach to watch the baby sea turtles hatch and make their way to the sea. That year, one of the nests didn’t hatch with the rest. A big frost came in early. Usually hatchlings head straight for water, but the chill must have disoriented them. They went in the wrong direction, fighting their way up the sand dune. No matter how many times we’d turn them around, up the beach they went. My sisters eventually wanted to head home. The wind cut through our dresses. It felt more like November than August.

“Nine of us were playing on the beach that day—Mercy and Honor were too little. They all marched back to the house without a second glance, tired of trying to help creatures who didn’t seem to want saving.

“I gathered the hatchlings up in my skirt, like a basket, and carried them home. There were so many of them, and they kept trying to fling themselves free. I filled a bathtub with seawater and put them all in it.” My voice was distant, caught in the memories. “The maids were furious I’d brought the little turtles in, but Mama told them to leave me be. She’d come downstairs to watch them flip about in the water, gaining their strength.”

Cassius shifted on the bench, angling his body more toward me instead of facing out. “How long did you keep them there?”

“Nearly a week. I fed them seaweed and little fish eggs. When the weather turned warm again, I brought them back to the beach.”

“And they all raced for the water?” he guessed.

I’d known I couldn’t keep them, they were wild and meant to be in the sea, but how I hoped one or two might linger behind, still needing me. “Every last one. They were so strong.” I smiled, remembering how quickly their little fins flipped forward, eager to meet the ocean. “I’d sat with them in the bathtub, kicking and churning the water for hours at a time.”

As he laughed, his hand fell on mine. It happened casually, as if it were perfectly natural for our hands to be in such intimate contact. “Why?”

It took everything in my power to drag my eyes from the knot our hands formed. “They needed to learn to swim with the waves.”

A flicker of hope burned deep inside me, sparked by the friction of his thumb across my palm, like a bit of flint against a pile of kindling.

“Annaleigh Thaumas, brave hero to sea turtles great and small,” he murmured, and then tilted my chin and kissed me.

Though I’d never been kissed before, I’d daydreamt about what it would be like, the meeting of two pairs of lips. Would there be exploding fireworks or a fluttering rush of wings unseen? I was certain Eulalie’s romance novels trumped up such contact to turn pages. Surely it was nothing more than the brush of flesh on flesh, like a pat on the back or the shaking of hands.

This was so much better.

His mouth was warm against mine and softer than I’d ever imagined a man’s could be. My skin sizzled as his hands cupped my cheeks and he pressed a kiss to my forehead before returning to my mouth. I dared to bring my fingers up to explore his jawline. It was rough with stubble and felt so completely different from me that I ran my fingertips over it, memorizing the lines.

Finally, I pulled away, giddy and breathless.

“Your blushes are so very beautiful.” He grinned and kissed my cheek, rubbing his fingers over its rosy glow.

“So are yours,” I murmured, then shook my head, my cheeks deepening in color. “That’s not what I meant. I’m sorry, I—”

He looked pleased. “Have I flustered you?”

“A little,” I admitted. I shifted on the bench, allowing the cool space between us to clear my mind.

“Oh, look, the fireworks are starting,” he said, his knee pressed into mine as he looked up.

I followed his gaze, searching the sky, but it remained dark. “Where? I don’t see any—”

And then he kissed me again.