Salty, a Fate Finder story, is a fictional work. The characters, places and events portrayed in this book are from the imagination of the author or are used fictitiously. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for the author or any third party websites or publications or their content.

  Copyright © 2023 by Lisa Barry All rights reserved. FIRST EDITION.

  No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without written permission from the publisher or author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews or as permitted by U.S. copyright law.

  Book Cover designed by Getpremades.com.

  Witching Hour Publishing, Inc.

  ISBN: 978-1-943121-75-5

  Contents

  1. Prologue

  2. Chapter 1

  3. Chapter 2

  4. Chapter 3

  5. Chapter 4

  6. Chapter 5

  7. Chapter 6

  8. Chapter 7

  9. Chapter 8

  10. Chapter 9

  11. Chapter 10

  12. Chapter 11

  13. Chapter 12

  14. Chapter 13

  15. Chapter 14

  16. Chapter 15

  17. Chapter 16

  18. Chapter 17

  19. Chapter 18

  20. Chapter 19

  21. Chapter 20

  22. Chapter 21

  23. Chapter 22

  24. Chapter 23

  25. Chapter 24

  26. Chapter 25

  27. Chapter 26

  28. Chapter 27

  29. Chapter 28

  30. Chapter 29

  31. Chapter 30

  32. Chapter 31

  Thank you for Reading!

  Prologue

  The Fate Finder

  Moira Williams sat patiently behind her desk, hands folded neatly before her.

  A shadow appeared behind the glass of her office door.

  Prickles moved across her skin like light drops of rain. A small smile played at her lips even as her heart thundered in her chest.

  A Fated had arrived, and their life would never be the same again, of that she was sure.

  The door opened, and someone wearing a long navy blue cloak entered, head down. The person, a woman, she thought, turned and closed the door quietly behind her.

  “You may lock it if it makes you more comfortable,” Moira said softly. The bolt clicked before the person turned to her and raised their head, pulling the hood down.

  Deep, haunted gray eyes met hers. The darkness welling in the lady’s soul was powerful and soul draining. Moira forced herself not to close her eyes to avoid looking. She watched as the lady moved forward with a slight limp. When the chestnut haired woman sat, she was dwarfed by the large, pillow laden chair. She looked old and frail though clearly, she was not.

  “Can you help me?”

  Despite the woman’s small structure, her voice was strong and cultured, though the lack of emotion was disturbing. Most people had a modicum of emotion, even if it was false. Moira felt as though the very joy of living had been sucked right out of this poor excuse for a person.

  “That depends,” she answered the lady.

  “On?”

  Moira shrugged. “The possibilities are endless. I will see the Fate that is best. Once I see…”

  “How can you possibly know it is the best?”

  “Once I see your Fate,” Moira repeated and leaned forward in her chair, “I will know your next step to reach it. But if you ignore my recommendation, your Fate will alter. You could come back in a week, and I will see something different.”

  “But how do you know it is the best?”

  Moira made a note to herself not to mention anything about best anything’s in future readings. “I have never seen someone follow my recommendation and not have the best outcome.”

  “What if I don’t like the outcome?” the woman whispered.

  Moira laced her fingers together and looked over the emotionally drained lady. “Would it be any worse?” she asked gently.

  The lady closed her eyes and lifted her chin. A soft sigh left her as her shoulders slumped. “It would be hard to be worse, but it is possible.”

  “Then let us not forget hope.” Moira knew a small yet joyless smile stretched her lips. She felt this woman’s pain acutely, but she would know the answer. She only hoped the lady would listen.

  The lady reached down and pulled a small sack from inside her cloak and set it on the desk.

  “That is the rest of my hope,” she said before sitting back in the chair casually.

  A brave one, Moira thought, and a flicker of anticipation for the woman’s future ignited a warm feeling in her chest. If only she could tell the lady what she knew. If only the woman would really listen. Moira always hoped they would. She took the sack without checking the amount and dropped it into a bag at her feet.

  “There is one other form of payment.”

  The woman raised her brows.

  “It is the very thing that will allow me to see your Fate. I do apologize in advance, but it is the only way you see. May I see your hands?”

  The woman nodded and reached over, placing her gloved hands on the desk. Moira wriggled her ungloved hands.

  “May I?”

  The woman’s mouth went round for a moment before she pulled off one glove and then the other, exposing pale skin lined with blue veins just below the surface.

  Before the woman could protest, Moira slid a needle from her drawer and quickly poked the lady’s forefinger.

  “Well, I…”

  With one hand, Moira held the lady’s wrist, and with the other, one finger swiped the blood droplet and quickly deposited it onto her tongue.

  She heard the quick intake of breath, but Moira had already closed her eyes. The change of color disturbed her visitors, so it was better to hide them. She didn’t have to, but she kept her hand wrapped around the lady’s wrist. Moira thought it was more for herself, to hold them in check and not let them run away. She didn’t even need the blood to do a true reading, but it helped give more clarity if not accuracy.

  Most people thought it was entertainment, after all.

  Thankfully, the lady was too shocked to say another word. Moira took her mind off the lady and her troubles, and with a cleansing breath, she waited for Fate’s visit.

  She saw the fog first. As usual, it portrayed itself in a mixture of gray and white, rolling and wet, and she could smell the air.

  As she watched, the center of the imagery faded and focused on a couple. Moira could see them clearly as though they were a perfect painting.

  The image faded, and she saw their first meeting.

  The scene faded, and another began, and then several flashed before her, almost painfully, the lights and darks contrasting, the colors vibrant.

  Moira focused on the location. She had spent hours upon hours learning the geography of her world. She knew of other worlds, playing at the edges, but she had never visited. The idea put a chill down her spine.

  Imagery slammed into her mind. She grimaced at the sensation and could smell the ocean again.

  The fog rolled in again and roiled for a moment before fading into nothingness.

  “Do you smell salt water?” the diminutive lady asked.

  Moira blinked her eyes and accustomed herself to the light in the room.

  “Why I daresay I did,” she said, shaking herself out. Her eyes fell on the lady, and she was surprised to see a little color in her face.

  “Well?” the lady asked, “is all lost for me? I am undecided whether a jump from a tall tree might be the better fate.”

  Moira took the woman’s hand again and patted it gingerly. “There are travails ahead of you, certainly, but they will be worth all the fortunes of the world. Make yourself present in the small town of Moenberg on the coast of Nemenmarsh, and you will find what you seek. Your Fate will be waiting with you.”

  “Five days over sea,” the lady commented.

  “I have yet to see these things to be easy, my lady.”

  A shiver coursed through the woman as she sat straight. “It’s not a long trip, at least.”

  “You will need to arrive before the end of next month, I think. The season has yet to change in my vision,” Moira said, a dull ache starting behind her ears, before she added, “or a different Fate will be waiting.”

  “Then I still have some time to decide.”

  “Yes. I may know some people if you need discreet help coordinating such an adventure.”

  The lady stood. “I will let you know what I decide.”

  “I would appreciate that,” Moira said before adding, “In regard to the bloodletting, I do appreciate you keeping it to yourself, or else I may not get others visiting.”

  “Of course,” the lady said. With the smallest smile, she stood and pulled the hood over her head.

  Moira had an afterthought and slipped her hand into her pocket. “One more thing. Please take this.”

  She held out a small pocketknife. Frowning at the worn etching of a raven, the woman took it and whisked it away into a pocket.

  “You never know when it might come in handy.”

  The lady looked at Moira thoughtfully before turning and leaving the office, shutting the door gently behind her.

  Moira slumped in her chair and wondered if she would ever get to know the end of this story and if it would match what she had seen.

  After recovering for a few moments, Moira picked up the bag on the floor and placed it on her lap, glimpsing inside. She’d had three visitors that day, but her latest had contained the most gold. She took out several coins and placed them on the desk before inserting a key into the front left drawer and pressing a button hidden beneath, near her left knee.

  A clicking noise filled the room, and a compartment opened inside the desk, a secret space behind the drawers. Moira pushed the money she had received from her three visitors that day into the compartment before standing and shaking out her dress.

  “We’re done for the day, Sheldy,” she announced as she pulled on her gloves.

  From a large closet behind her stepped a sandy-haired young boy in a very large body.

  “That last one was a real one, weren’t it?” he asked Moira as he shook the tension from his arms and legs after being still for so long.

  “Indeed.” Moira looked thoughtfully at her office entrance before scooping up the remaining coins from her desk. She handed several to Sheldy.

  “Would you get another knife for me tomorrow? I do like to keep them around.”

  “Certainly, Miss Moira. The very best I can find.”

  Moira handed him a few more coins. “Today’s wages.”

  “Thank you, ma’am. I’ll walk you to the steamer then?”

  “Yes, thank you, Sheldy.”

  They moved out of the office, and as Moira closed and locked the door, her eyes lingered on the words etched in the glass.

  Find Your Fate

  ENTERTAINMENT

  Service of the Mind

  Entertainment indeed, Moira scoffed to herself as she held her pocketbook near her empty knife-accessible pockets and followed Sheldy out of the building.

  Fate was entertainment until it bit you in the arse.

  Chapter 1

  Nora

  Rushing from the shop's back door, Nora St. James walked as quickly as possible without drawing attention to herself, at least she hoped. She had only two streets to navigate, and the sun was still high enough to be safe. She had sent her companion to the other side of town for special dark chocolate, but the errand would not take as long as she would have liked. If she were lucky, the chocolatier would be busy, and her companion would be delayed.

  Lifting her skirts, she quickly took the steps to the storied building doorway and then went upstairs to the Find Your Fate office. She knocked since she was unannounced before trying the door. It opened smoothly, and she met the eyes of Fate Finder herself.

  A stunning specimen of a woman, the Fate Reader had light auburn hair that brought out her dusty blue eyes. She had a smattering of freckles crossed her nose and cheeks. The deep blue dress she wore only accented her beauty to Nora’s eyes.

  Nora wondered what predicament had caused the woman to maintain such a business but she was afraid to ask.

  The woman stood, and a broad, genuine smile lit up her face.

  “You are here to make your arrangements.”

  Nora nodded as she turned and locked the door behind her.

  “I have little time, so I apologize for my haste.” Nora pulled a heavy sack and a letter from her coat. She placed the sack on the desk.

  “Here is my payment. It should be more than enough to arrange whatever is needed. I put in extra for a companion of sorts. I’ve never traveled by boat, and I daresay it wouldn't be prudent to travel alone.”

  The Fate Finder nodded thoughtfully. Nora handed the letter directly to the Finder. “Here is my name and address. For some reason, I feel I can trust you. If you leave a reply message with a basket of ribbon or chocolates, my Guardian will think nothing of allowing it to pass to me. Hide the letter. Otherwise, he will read it.”

  Nora met the eyes of the Finder and was content with the feeling she saw there. If she were betrayed, it would be a better Fate than the one she expected soon to be scheduled for her without her permission. She moved to leave but paused and turned back. She did something then and wondered if she had ever before done it with such conviction.

  She took the Finder’s hands in her own.

  “Thank you,” she said and felt tears brim in her eyes. The Finder’s eyes became misty as well. Nora squeezed her hands and then left without looking back.

  She was in Fate’s hands now.

  Almost a fortnight passed before the first part of the plan came to pass. A basket of ribbon and yarn with several new needles was delivered to her one morning. Since her Guardian had yet to rise, she casually brought the basket to her room.

  There was no lock on her door so she dropped the basket onto her desk and carefully removed the items in such a way as to create a place to hide a letter, were she to be interrupted.

  Her first sight of the soft cream-colored paper made her heart skip a beat. She was really doing this.

  After pulling the letter from the envelope, she slid it beneath the stack of ribbon. Moving quickly, she snatched the book she was reading from her nightstand and slipped the letter inside. She was just placing the book down again when the door swung open.

  “It’s clear, sir,” her maid said, fear evident in her wide eyes.

  Nora’s guardian stepped just inside the door.

  “What are you doing?” he demanded. Nora curtsied.

  “I just finished a chapter and was heading downstairs to work on my next pillow.”

  His eyes raked over her room. “And what of this?” He pushed his chin toward the basket of ribbon.

  “I had new ribbons and yarn delivered. They will make a very nice pillow.”

  The redness in his face proved another late night out with the spirits and who knew what else. Nora waited, blood thundering in her ears.

  “Very well. I would like two matching for the new chaise delivered next week.” He looked down his nose at the basket. “The colors will do. A strip of cloth is on my desk. Check it first and then proceed.”

  He turned and left the room. The maid let out a breath as soon as he had cleared the corner of the hall. “I am so sorry, Miss,” she said as she made her way into the room.

  “It is no matter, Elly. You had little choice.”

  Elly nodded. “Is there anything you need then?”

  “No, I’ll just gather my things and get to work.”

  “Certainly, Miss. Then I will get back to it.” Elly curtsied and made her way out the door. Nora waited several minutes before pulling the envelope from its hiding spot in the basket, dropping it onto the floor, and kicking it beneath her bed. It was the one place she knew it wouldn’t be found until she had a moment to burn it. She grabbed the basket and, with a backward glance at the book on her nightstand, left the room and prepared herself for another miserable day.

  Her one hope was that the content of the letter would give her the freedom she so sorely needed.

  Chapter 2

  Ansel

  The ship glided smoothly across the sea and, ropes in hand, several of his crew jumped from her decks and began to moor the Merry Dame to the dock.

  Confident in his men, Ansel Madden gazed past the dock and into the small town he called home. Moenberg wasn’t exactly a thriving metropolis but had its merits, most importantly it being where his greatest of friends could usually be found.

  He was returning almost a week earlier than expected, so they would only now be apprised of his arrival. Ansel chuckled at the ruckus that would likely ensue. His mother, or at least the lovely dowager he called mother, would be beside herself and likely arrange a dinner large enough to serve an army.

  A burst of warmth filled him. It had been some time since he’d been around what, for all intents and purposes, was his family. His crew was loyal, and he loved them – well, most of them – but none of them received hugs after an extended time away.

  Once the gangplank was set, Ansel stepped off his ship and headed to dry land. His crew would secure the Merry Dame and take turns keeping watch.

  Once he’d exited the marina, he caught the single driverless steamer of the town, inserted several coins, and touched the screen to direct it home.

  A quarter hour later he could smell the scent of orange loaves in the air, the salty air hidden for now. He smiled. It was very good to be home.

 

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