Page 130 of Salt in the Seas
He raised his brows in surprise. He’d thought there’d been more than five thousand people in Tideholm, but that meant their population in general was a fraction the size of Vendaras or Lorvandas. But perhaps it had always been that way, since they had such unique physical features that required certain living conditions.
Before he could ask more questions, Gellen came and took Nori away, making it clear Gaeren had already gotten more information than he should have.
By the time they reached the northern shore, everyone was eager to switch to the boats. The Sayhleens put the Vendarans to work paddling with oars two by two while they transformed and swam alongside them, sometimes disappearing for long lengths of time. The brief respite from their cold looks allowed Gaeren to momentarily pretend things weren’t so bleak.
As they left the coast of the island, it didn’t take long to spot the coast of another island, its shores far more rocky with hardly any vegetation. They passed a few buildings cut into the rocks, where minimal trees and greenery created a tiny oasis in the otherwise uninhabitable coastline.
Nori surfaced near Gaeren and Riveran’s boat, playing with the rope as if the tie had come loose. But it was clear the knot remained perfect. “That’s the school for progenies,” she murmured.
“Do all the progenies go there to train?” Gaeren asked.
She nodded. “And most stay on as teachers. In a village our size, the only remaining progenies are the elders and a few close to them. They mostly ensure they have access to all the spokes and nothing more.”
Elder Algaen studied her from his place near Aeliana and Cyrus’ boat. His stare sharpened enough to make her dive beneath the water once more.
Something about the way she explained their progenies left Gaeren uneasy. It was almost like Sayhleens kept control over them so they couldn’t rise up and gain power over the people. Maybe that was a good thing. Or maybe it was just a different form of corruption in a different form of government.
Their third and final day dragged on as they paddled past the barren land, until Gaeren questioned if they were being brought to the Seer after all. Maybe the Sayhleens had some sort of sacrificial post where they left food for krakens.
The other Vendarans showed similar unease, especially when they were instructed to bring their boats to shore without anything but rock in sight.
“Where exactly are we going?” Gaeren asked.
Nori pointed to a dark space at the edge of the water. “The Seer’s Sanctuary is a cavern deep within these rocks. It’s only accessible from the water. In many ways, the island is like a tree, its trunk rooted deeply in the water and its branches flowing out in a wide circumference. But when you travel underneath the branches, you’ll find empty pockets for nests. It’s a space with little light and little to stimulate Lady Merinnia’s highly tuned senses.”
Gaeren could barely make out where the water lapped underneath the overhanging cliff. “Can we fit under there?” he asked.
Nori hesitated. “We don’t usually take boats. I’m guessing it would be easier to reach it during low tide.”
“When is low tide?” Gaeren asked.
“This time of year…” Nori glanced at the Sun’s descent. “We missed it by a few hours.”
“Of course we did,” Gaeren muttered.
The Vendarans continued paddling, warily watching the rock wall grow near. At times, it seemed as though they would crash against it and be smashed to pieces. But the closer they got, the larger the space seemed, and soon it became apparent that if they bent down, they would fit under the rock while remaining in their boats. However, they would be at the mercy of the Sayhleens to pull them in the right direction without their oars for guidance.
Gaeren shivered, imagining the Sayhleens abandoning them and trapping them. It would be easy for them to do. Velden was the only one who seemed completely at ease with their position, and Gaeren vowed to follow the other man if boats were tipped. Just in case his amphibious instincts gave him a leg up.
After they’d been pulled under the rock for a few feet, darkness encompassed them, leaving flickering luminescent algae beneath the water as their guide. It reminded Gaeren of his walk through the sprites’ cavern, and he grew more tense.
The claustrophobic paranoia settled to discomfort as the rock above them rose, allowing them space to sit up a little taller and look out a little farther. The cavern remained dark, but more luminescent algae, and possibly sea creatures, left bright imprints along the cavern walls, like a rainbow’s reflection on the rock. It showed the cavern they entered was far larger than Gaeren had imagined.
The pool of water they slid across led to rocky steps that the Sayhleens began ascending, their scales and fins falling away for skin and limbs. Just beyond the steps rested a dais with as much headroom above it as any chamber in his parents’ home. Stalagmites rose from the pool’s edge in crystal formations, beckoning them closer to the dais, where at least eight women stood, their statuesque stances more intimidating than soldiers at arms.
As the Sayhleens pulled the boats the remainder of the way to the stairs, the women continued staring straight ahead, their long white dresses eerily reflecting the luminescent glow. Their bare feet were covered in scales, the water lapping at their toes. Each one wore a necklace, their starlocks in plain view for all to see. The unusual transparency left Gaeren uncomfortable, like they were partially undressed, and he avoided looking at each starlock’s individual shape.
As if they’d been instructed to do so, everyone kept silent—even Cyrus. But their eyes wandered the entire length of the room, taking in the way it felt intentionally arranged even though everything appeared to be natural formations. Stalactites hung in mirrored patterns, and plants Gaeren couldn’t identify rose from the water to line the cavern walls, their blossoms seeming to defy nature without the Sun’s light.
When all the Vendarans stood on the dais, surreptitiously stretching out sore muscles from their cramped ride in the boats, the women turned as one, leading them to the back of the cavern. The glow from their dresses seemed to grow, likely a trick of their magic. But it allowed their guests to see a hall leading to another cavern.
The sanctuary seemed to grow in opulence the deeper they went, making questions build up in Gaeren, fueled by the fact that he knew he couldn’t ask them. It was as magnificent as his parents’ palace, but in some ways it felt like far more, because it seemed to be formed by the Sun’s own hands rather than by the people.
When they reached the next cavern, it was far smaller, barely fitting their twenty-eight travelers and the eight women. Chairs and refreshments were given to all, but the elders remained standing, speaking in hushed tones with the women.
Nori sat near Aeliana at a table, and Gaeren found a chair across from them, leaning in to hear what Nori might be explaining.
“But who are they?” Aeliana was asking.
