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

said Marisa, finishing the last of her writing and placing her pencil upon the table. Then, she offered Chidi the notebook she wrote upon. “And the choice of direction is left to us.”

Chidi trembled as she again looked upon the completed work. “It’s finished, then? You’ve worked it out?”

Marisa shrugged. “Who can say for certain? But, if our work together in translation is true . . . if these lyrics are to be believed . . . then, aye.” Her eyes shone in the pale light as she again offered Chidi the notebook to read. “I believe this puzzle of words will act as our map, at least . . . again, assuming we’ve placed them in the right order.”

A big if, Chidi took Marisa’s tone to mean. “But to where?” she asked. “Where do these pieces lead?”

“To the end, Chidi,” said Marisa. “To the truly completed work.”

Chidi’s throat ran dry at the ominous words. She glanced at the piece of paper once more, not daring to read the newest alignment Marisa had made. “What do they say?”

“You tell me.” Marisa gave over the notebook. “Read the message aloud, Chidi. Aye, that we might both hear the Ancients words as they were once given and intended.”

Chidi’s fingers shook, even as she accepted the notebook from Marisa. “Why me?” she asked. “Why can’t you read them?”

“Because my voice is not the one that I hear in the dreams given to me,” said Marisa, retreating back into her seat.

Chidi glanced upon the scrawlings Marisa had made. She shook her head. “I don’t know that I want to.”

“Why not?” Marisa asked with a sly grin. “You fear the power of words, Chidi?”

If they come from you, I do, Chidi thought but did not say. She only nodded in answer to Marisa’s question.

“Your wisdom is matched by your beauty then,” said Marisa. “But we need not fear these Ancient words, my friend. We ought to celebrate them for showing us the way and all that will be required of us. Now, please . . . read them.”

Chidi reached for the glass of water that Allambee had left for her before he had fallen asleep again. The remainder had less than a swallow inside. Chidi took it down all the same, her throat raw and aching, desperate for more. She glanced to the counter, searching for both the source of the drinking water and a reprieve from what Marisa asked of her. To reach the sink would mean waking Allambee, and Chidi held no desire for that.

Marisa leaned forward upon the table. “Read them, Chidi . . . read the words.”

Chidi looked upon the paper, then quietly obliged the mystic Silkie.

“Our doom draws nigh upon us, Children, and this our final song. Still, we would have thee sing it, and pray thee to be strong.” Chidi’s voice trembled as she moved onto the second verse. “We leave this world a harsh one, Children, a challenge not easily bested. And yet the Salt shall change for no one, for how else should thou be tested?”

Chidi set the first piece of paper down, her brow furrowing further at the words in the second piece as well. “Receive these mystic gifts, Children, and believe all these words we leave. For the shadows shall rise always, and the dark arts they will weave.”

“The Other . . .” Marisa interrupted, her voice quieter even than Chidi’s had been as she pointed to the Ancient word for shadows. “They speak of he and his kind there, I think. Aye, Chidi, all that we have seen thus far, no?” She glanced to the ladder leading up to the boat deck above. “Or perhaps the greater storm still to come . . .”

Chidi nodded, then looked back to read the second piece when she could no longer continue to meet the certainty in Marisa’s eyes. “But when all else grow to fear them, Children, and all the woe they bring, let you heed our song then, Children, and remember these words we sing.”

Despite the cabin cold, warmth spread through Chidi as she finished the words of the second puzzle piece.

“The open,” Marisa said of the piece as Chidi lightly placed the paper scrap back into its former place amidst the formation of others. She nodded toward the next scraps of symbols and their adjoining letter twins. “And now their challenge to us.”

Breathless, Chidi continued on with the third piece. “One for times rich, one for times poor. This gift to all sworn evermore. This blessing we leave to both above and below. This one for all who join and know.”

Chidi caught Marisa watching her, the elusive runner’s gaze drifting from the parchment and to look on Chidi’s fingers instead.

The ring . . . Chidi thought, looking upon the seemingly unremarkable gift that the old Merrow, Wilda, had given her back at the Indianapolis Zoo. “It’s a wedding ring . . .” she said to Marisa after reading the Ancient riddle again. “Wilda’s.”

“The Merrow gift, aye,” said Marisa. “Or so I believe.”

Chidi look down upon the pebbled stone that served as the ring’s lone adornment. But could it be the same ring this riddle is talking about? She wondered, doubting the momentary idea. She changed her mind once more when she again caught Marisa’s knowing eyes still watching her as she plucked up the fourth bit of paper to read.

“This one for those dealt in blood and death,” Chidi shivered at the words before forcing herself to read onward. “This one for warriors of Salted breath. We gift you this dagger, that it may add to your life, and when the time comes, to remove sibling strife.

Chidi looked to Marisa as she placed the piece of paper down with the others. “We have to find a dagger?”

“If the riddle proves true, perhaps,” Marisa replied. “And if you believe the weapon mentioned is truly a dagger.”

“You don’t?” Chidi asked.

Marisa chuckled. “It is a riddle, Chidi. And an Ancient one at that. Simple as the words