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

had unsheathed one of his daggers and lopped off the hooked end of the first tentacle to reach for him.

Kellen howled at the blow, but the pain did not stop his other tentacles from preventing further loss. As the strongest of the Sancul had done for the Mako leader above, so too did Kellen quickly overwhelm and unarm Ishmael. Despite the Bull leader’s continued fight, his strength was no match against the number of tentacles and hooks that Kellen sent forth to claim him.

Garrett swallowed hard as Kellen pulled a wriggling Ishmael from the crowd of tribal leaders and dragged him through the water.

Fight! Ishmael screamed at the others Nomads. Fight them, you cowards! Free me!

Garrett looked to the others in his company when Short-Shore and the Tigress chieftain drew their blades. But, when the pair of she-squid maneuvered forward, their eyes gleaming in wait for a fight to come, then Garrett saw both Nomad leaders sheathe their blades once more. None dared to swim forth in a foolish attempt at rescue.

Hearing someone gag, Garrett wheeled around once more to find the Nomad’s face reddening.

Another of Kellen’s tentacles had slithered around Ishmael’s neck to strangle him. His former classmate used still another of his hooked appendages to wrap around the thinnest part of Ishmael’s Bull Shark tail. Garrett cowered when Kellen then began to stretch his prized hostage.

Ishmael grunting at the slow, taunting pull as if he were lain upon a medieval rack, his limbs stretched almost to their breaking points.

What are you, Kellen? Garrett wondered then. What happened to you down here in the Salt?

For all the memories he had to draw upon of their interactions and fights over the years, nothing compared to the hurt and hatred in Kellen’s eyes, his teeth grit not in joyful torture, but unbridled rage and pain.

Garrett’s gaze shifted to Ishmael when the Bull chieftain cried out at the popping of his shoulder socket. What did he do to you, Kellen? Garrett wondered then, remembering his own dealings with Ishmael on their journey toward the Devil’s Triangle. The savagery and butchery he had witnessed brought to both Orcs and Nomads at Ishmael’s hands and teeth. No small part of him warned then to not feel pity for the dealings Kellen wrought upon the tribal leader. And yet when Garrett found his voice and discovered himself calling out, it was not for Ishmael’s sake. Kellen . . . Garrett swam forward. Kellen, stop! Don’t do this . . .

Kellen’s eyes blazed as they turned on Garrett. Stop? No, Weaver. You don’t know the things that he’s done.

I do though, said Garrett quietly. I’ve traveled across the Salt with him and seen what he does . . . I’ve seen Ishmael do terrible things.

Kellen scoffed. You’ve seen, huh? Well, I’ve lived those terrible things he does, Weaver.

Garrett flinched when his former classmate’s voice cracked. His skin prickled when Kellen glanced away, returning his stony stare to look on his captive instead as if to reignite the fires burning in him.

Kellen sneered at Ishmael. Yeah, I know all too well what you’re capable of, don’t I, Master? He spat the word. You wanna know something though? Kellen asked, raising the tribal leader’s body closer to him. I’m pretty capable too now . . . and your buddy back in Orphan Knoll? Roland? He found out how capable I am already. Should I show you what I taught him? Kellen tested the limits of Ishmael’s body further, the tribal leader’s mouth opening and closing for a Salted breath, his face whitening at the continued, slow pull from both ends of his body. That little bit there I just did to you? That’s a taste of what I gave your friend. Kellen went on. But you though, Ishmael . . . I think I’ll keep you awhile to play with before I leave you to the same end you meant for me.

The white-blonde, motherly Sancul swam forward then. The same end he meant for you, my son? She asked Kellen.

Son? Garrett’s nose wrinkled at her naming of Kellen. But how could . . . The thought died in its infancy. Garrett remembered, then, the source of he and Kellen’s final bout at Tiber High School and the earlier taunts in the parking lot that earned him Kellen’s scorn. His mom was a Sancul all along? Garrett looked between them, trying to remember where and when he had seen the she-squid’s face before in his youth.

The former stillness in the motherly Sancul’s gaze came alive as her tentacles too began to reach for Bull chieftain. This creature here, she said to Kellen in reference of Ishmael. He is another of those who hurt you in the above, my son?

Worse, said Kellen. This is the one who maimed me first, then left me to either bleed out and drown as I fell into the Abyss.

Drowned? Garrett thought to himself, his lip curling at the shared memory between he and Kellen. Like you did for me back home, Winstel?

The Sancul mother touched Kellen on the cheek with one of her own tentacles. A grisly blessing he gave you, then, she said to Kellen. Still, for whatever his purpose, that pitiful creature has given us all a great gift, my son.

He didn’t mean it as a gift, said Kellen.

Why, then? She asked of him. Why did he mean to murder you?

Kellen grimaced. It doesn’t matter. He did what he did . . . and now I’m going to teach him what I can do.

The other, younger she-squid with raven hair and piercing blue eyes crowed to Kellen then, startling Garrett in the process for her screeching call. Aye, my love. Teach this feral creature well. She glared at Garrett and all those behind him. Aye, let us teach all of these here the same as we did for those in Orphan Knoll.

Garrett remained as still as he could under her threat, the only movement from him being the slightest swish of his