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

A grim choice, then, Cursion agreed. If you consider it one at all.

A better one than they mean to offer the Merrows and Orcs, said Ishmael. By my count, there were only five of the Sancul among us. And five were enough to end all of us in this council. How would you expect our people to swim against the legions of Deep Dwellers that Kanaloa spoke of?

I saw no legions this night, said Cursion.

Ishmael scoffed. That does not mean they are not lingering nearby, or even beneath. He opened his arms to the surrounding dark water, then made a show of sweeping his hand to both and below. Who is to say the Sancul do not listen to us argue even now?

Watawa shook his head as he swam closer. If so, then no doubt they would hear the same fear in the voice of Red Water as I do.

Ishmael glared across the water at the one-eyed Nomad. The Open Shell speaks bravely now, yet I did not hear a word from him when the Deep Dwellers swam among us. Tell me, coward, what lends you such bravery now in the presence of Red Water? Do you fear me less?

I fear that which I have seen in my dreams, said Watawa, casting his gaze on Cursion White Shadow and then upon Garrett too. Aye, his voice shook in mixed resolve and fright. And I fear greatly that the worst of them were made true this night in front of me.

Cursion nodded back. Speak on, Open Shell. The council would hear you.

Ishmael snorted. Why should the council listen to this self-proclaimed shaman? The coward before you is no leader, not even among his own unwanted tribe of misfits. It his brother’s voice this council craves. Not the feckless, ramblings from Watawa the Drunken Shell.

He is not drunk this night, said Cursion. And we shall hear Watawa all the same. For we are a council, no? Red Water does not speak for all the people here, nor all of the ones above that we here are meant to serve.

No, said Ishmael, sneering. I do not speak for all. No more than the White Shadow should do.

For a moment, Garrett thought his Nomad father meant to cross the distance between he and Ishmael, their debate moving on from words to war instead.

Another spoke up to save them from it. The White Shadow listens, said Atsidi Darksnout. Did he not say as much unto the Deep Dwellers and were lauded by their leader for it? He further silenced Ishmael with an angered look. Keep your tongue, Red Water. We all of us here know what your vote would be when it comes to aligning or no with the Deep Dwellers. Not all of us are so certain as you.

Aye, said Ishmael. I would ally with the monsters of old. He played to the other chieftains. Who among us would be so foolish to sacrifice our people by denying their invitation? Ishmael’s gaze flitted back to Atsidi. What say you to their offer, Silent Hammer?

Atsidi shook his head. Be it for this council or another, my answer has not changed. It will not waver either, not even for the Deep Dwellers. The Hammer chieftain’s head raised in proud response. My tribes will take no part in the coming war. We swim only as a sign of unity among the Nomads.

Unity? Ishmael snickered. I wonder, does that alliance extend even to the Sancul also?

That would depend on the outcome of this council, said Atsidi. For my allegiance is to the people first. The Nomad people, he clarified when Ishmael cocked an eyebrow in response. We hold no allegiance to the Deep Dwellers who have long since vanished from this world and left us Salt Children to war against one another for all the long years since. He turned toward Cursion again. Still, I would hear what the White Shadow decides. It seems to me his voice is the last of us that I have yet to hear. What think you of a Sancul alliance, high chieftain?

Garrett looked to his Nomad father with all the rest, the off-setting silver and white of Cursion’s Great White Shark tail gleaming in the glow of the pale and greenish bioluminescent lanterns to hold off the surrounding darkness. Among the others, Garrett noticed that all but Ishmael and Short-Shore appeared as curious as he and Atsidi Darksnout were also for the answer to come.

Despite their waiting, Cursion White Shadow took his time in choosing his words before speaking to the question asked of him. I will answer and speak my mind to such things, said he. But I would hear more from the Open Shell first. He has long spoken of his own dreams and of the shadows rising within them. It seems to me now this offer from the Deep Dwellers may be a sign of such dreams proved true and the storm to come. Aye, or mayhap their arrival signals the storm is upon us already. He looked to Watawa. What say you, Open Shell?

I say the Sancul’s coming this night is like the clap of thunder to announce the storm, Watawa’s voice shook. Aye, and that the end draws nigh for us to choose our fate. For of all our foes, who is the truest enemy? Those who swim beneath the Salt, or those who breathe the air and walk above? If my dreams prove true, we condemn ourselves and all other Salt Children and Selkies too with every lingered discussion here as to the intentions of the creatures from dark and deep who come among us cloaked in shadow.

You would fear them, then? Cursion asked. That their offer is truly not one made in earnest?

I would fear any offer from the Sancul, said Watawa. If it were left to me, high chieftain, I would send our fastest swimmers to the furthest reaches of the Salt.