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

“Not this time, my friend,” Watawa replied, then looked up at the night sky before turning to those on board again. His face paled, beset with the grim manner in which he spoke. “For though it would seem see the storm here in the above has passed for now, I assure you the Salt is churning beneath.”

“Why?” Bryant asked. “What’s going on down here?”

Watawa nodded toward Garrett’s position. “Let you ask our mutual friend. Or say rather, when he is ready to speak of such ill tides as he has witnessed in the depths.” The Nomad shaman pushed off from the boat ladder and drifted backward. “For now, I must go and attempt to talk some reason into my people, lest others hold their sway.” Watawa nodded in Garrett’s direction. “Farewell, my friend. I pray that you see our message delivered in time for the benefit of all.”

What message? Chidi wondered, looking between them for any clue she had missed.

Watawa waved goodbye, then looked to Chidi and gave a final nod before vanishing beneath the waves once more.

She watched the waters where he disappeared, waiting for him to return with a reply to the question she had not voiced. Chidi wondered after the answer all the same.

Behind her, Bryant stomped away toward the captain’s cabin. He returned a second later with a woolen blanket for Garrett Weaver. “Here,” he draped the blanket over the teen’s trembling shoulders. “Get you warmed up in a minute, kid. Not that you need it, I guess. Salt blood keeps you warm, I reckon.”

Garrett muttered something under his breath that Chidi could not hear. She assumed it was a thank you, but when Garrett’s gaze drifted to look off the back of the boat to where Watawa had vanished, she debated whether the teen had been trying to speak something of the message that the one-eyed Nomad had meant for him to relay.

Bryant reached for him anyway, whether he understood Garrett’s intentions or no. “You okay, kid?”

The manner in which Garrett yanked away, his breath quickening and face paling, told Chidi the teen must truly have witnessed something sinister beneath the waves. What’s happened to you, Garrett? She wondered of him, even as Bryant showed the teen his hands in a peaceful show he meant no harm. What all has happened to you since Lenny and the others brought you to the Salt, like Henry once did for me? What happened to you after we last saw each other in Crayfish Cavern?

Chidi’s conscience warned she would not like the answer as Garrett relented to Bryant’s reaching for him again. The Selkie marshal helped Garrett to stand, then guided him away from the water and toward what remained of the sheltered captain’s cabin. Chidi watched them go, noting that Garrett eyed the broken windows and blood stains upon the walls that Bryant had not yet cleaned. Only once both were safely inside, the door closing behind them, did Marisa speak up again.

“The past returns in many forms, no, Chidi?” she asked.

Chidi ignored the question. “Why is he here?” she asked.

Marisa shrugged. “You heard Watawa the Open Shell as clear as I did. It would seem that Garrett Weaver has a similar message to deliver, for he too has witnessed the Other and the greater Salt storm to come.”

The Sancul, Chidi thought, but did not say.

Marisa nodded anyway, as if she had read Chidi’s mind. “I told you once before, Chidi, just as I remind you now – the dark tides mean to fall upon us all. You need look no further than those of us upon the boat to see that it be so. Selkies, Orcs,” she nodded toward Garrett in the cabin with Bryant, then looked back out across the open Salt as well. “Even the Nomads who breathe the same Salt as the Other and his minions. The Other would see us all ended if allowed to achieve His ends.”

Chidi wet her lips with her tongue. “If that’s true,” she began. “If the Sancul mean to kill us all, how are we supposed to stop them?”

Marisa sighed. “There is but one way that I see before us,” the mystic Silkie looked away from Chidi and toward the cabin once more. “And that is by continuing. Pressing ever onward, despite all such things as would seek to drown us in our grief, misery, aye, and such unimaginable pain to come. We chosen few must continue, Chidi. For make no mistake, the Other will not tire in His efforts to seek the end of us and the whole of this world, above and below.” She motioned to the captain’s cabin and those within. “Garrett Weaver has seen much since coming into our world, Chidi. The pair of you much alike, yet very different also.”

“You’ve seen Garrett Weaver in your dreams too?”

“Seen and heard him, aye,” said Marisa, her eyes narrowing on the cabin door as if she could peer beyond it. “Another pained voice, crying out in the darkness.”

Chidi hesitated. “What did he say?” she asked. “If you heard him calling out?”

“The same as I heard from you,” the mystic Silkie’s smile dawned once more when she turned back to face Chidi. “He called out for help, my friend. Some tender morsel of hope and light to guide him from his pain and the darkness cast upon him.”

“And you’re going to help him, are you?” Chidi asked, even as her thoughts turned back to another instead. “Just like you helped Allambee?”

“It was not my aid he called for, Chidi,” said Marisa quietly. “As to whether another has heard, or ever will hear the prayers of Garrett Weaver? I cannot say for certain. Alas, the darkness blinds me there also.” Marisa’s shoulders slumped. She closed her eyes, inhaling deep of the Salty, sea-air. “But the future does not hold its sway over me yet,” The mystic Silkie opened her eyes and offered Chidi her brilliant