Salt Storm: The Salted Series: Episodes #31-35 by Galvin, Aaron (read 50 shades of grey .TXT) 📕

They will, my friend, said Watawa. They must. Aye, you must make the Merrow king and your fellow Orcinians hear you, Garrett Weaver. For I understand clearly now that the worst of my dreams is soon to be made true – that the Sancul are the monstrous shadow of my dreams. They come to cover this world in eternal dark. And as your father warned our council, I have no doubt the Deep Dwellers will not stop until they bring all Salt Children and the world itself to heel.

Garrett blinked away the blurry stain upon his eyes. I don’t know how to do this though. Why would any of the Orcs or the Merrow king listen to me?

Because you are your father’s son, said Watawa. The noble, brave son of the Pod Mother also. The grandson of Orcin Blacktide and nephew to the fearsome Blackfin too. Tell any and all the Orcinians you meet in the City of Pearls about Ishmael’s betrayal and know that they will believe you, Garrett Weaver. And when you win the trust of Orcs and Merrows with such a message, then let you tell them of those greater monsters you have witnessed lurking beneath the Salt also. Watawa’s thumbs needled into Garrett’s shoulder blades, his voice tinging with pain. You must make them believe, Garrett Weaver. For as I swim here now, I tell you the fate of all Salt Children lies with you to convince all that you can to join in turning back the dark tide to come. For if we Salt Children do not join and rise together now, then I fear that all shall fall forever more.

But how? Garrett wept under the thought of such a charge assigned to him. Even if I agree to tell the Orcs, what if the Tigers come after me? Or Ishmael too? How am I supposed to find my way alone, Watawa?

Watawa’s cheeks twitched. As anyone does when they are lost, Garrett Weaver. You must follow others who know the way until you can find yourself again. The shaman released his hold over Garrett’s shoulders. And first, you will follow me. He took hold of Garrett’s hand. Now come, my friend. For I fear we have little time to hasten you away from here and onto your harder journey ahead.

31

CHIDI

Chidi swam toward the boat where Bryant and Marisa Bourgeois awaited her. Breaching for air, she discovered Bryant using a bucket to wash the boat clean of that which formerly stained its deck. Is that your blood, Allambee? She wondered. Or one of the Orcs who came for us? Girard’s, maybe?

Chidi’s mind tormented her with questions of the dead as she swam around the runoff. Her heart warned the answers did not matter, not now that all those she wondered after were dead anyway. So many gone, she glanced to the darkened water behind her.

She no longer heard the screams of Allambee’s killer, the Orc named Arsen, but the torture he no doubt endured beneath the waves haunted her memory.

Upon the boat, Bryant had noticed her arrival and ceased cleaning the deck.

With the bloodied runoff halted, Chidi used the opportunity to gather her speed in the water, then leapt on board. She slid for a moment, then stuck her flippers hard upon the deck to slow her momentum before running into Bryant and knocking him over.

The Selkie marshal came for her slowly, reaching for her mouth and nostrils to free Chidi of her seal form. When her changes had reversed, the wind whistling about her human ears, Chidi cowered upon the dock. As Bryant knelt at her side, the tears Chidi could not formerly cry in her seal body now brimmed in her eyes and then spilt down her cheeks.

Bryant said nothing of her arrival, nor did he question what she had seen below. Quietly, he sat beside her and welcomed Chidi into his arms, hugging her close.

Chidi lost all manner of resolve then, sowing all her grief and fears into his shoulder. Long after she had no more tears to cry, Bryant remained with her.

“He’s gone,” Chidi managed to whisper. “Allambee is gone.”

“I know,” said Bryant. “Just us and Marisa now, kid.”

Chidi pulled away then, her face warming at his mention of the mystic Silkie. “Where is she?”

Bryant’s reply was not to come, his voice lost to the echoed footsteps of one padding free of the captain’s cabin.

Marisa Bourgeois stepped out to join them. “I am here, my friend . . .”

Chidi felt the need to rise and fly at Marisa then, to claw and tear at her face. For Allambee’s fate, and for subjecting Atsidi Darksnout to reunite with his son for only a moment before watching him die in his arms too. “You knew!” Chidi condemned her. “You saw that Allambee would die all along . . .”

Marisa would not deny it.

“Why?” Chidi’s voice broke. “Why did you lead us out here if you knew that all of this would happen.”

“Because I hold to some glimpse of what may occur hereafter, Chidi,” said Marisa. “Why such sacrifices must be made.”

Chidi’s face broke into a new wave of tears at the soft and quiet manner with which Marisa of sacrifice. “Stop,” Chidi said to her reply. “Just stop . . . I don’t want to hear anymore from you. Not ever again.”

“Not even if it helps to save your own family?” Marisa asked.

Chidi rose then, standing even as Bryant attempted to keep her from it.

“Chidi, wait . . .”

“No,” she replied, leaving him behind, striding across the deck to stand within striking distance of Marisa Bourgeois. “You talk about my family as if I’ll see ever them again, but you said the same to Allambee and . . . I-I loved him too.” She pointed toward the water and Allambee’s final resting place. “I loved him like he was my family. Just like Sasha and Racer, and so many others before them