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

sea, going down with his ship. Do not ask me to weep for a loathsome creature such as he was.”

“And Allambee?” Chidi asked. “What did he ever pray for, except to meet his father?”

Marisa’s gaze flickered at the stinging implication Chidi made. “Is it not said even the wisest cannot see all ends, Chidi? Hmm? You lay the fate of this boy at my feet and yet were it not for his actions this night, if not for Allambee Omondi being among us to fend off the Orcs, you would likely be dead already.”

“I wish that I were, then,” said Chidi. “I would rather it finally be me the one to die, rather than I have to watch any more of the people that I love suffer in my place instead.”

Marisa nodded. “It may well be you receive your wish too, someday,” she said quietly. “But it will not be this night, Chidi.” She nodded toward Allambee too. “Nor would he trade places with you if given the same choice again here and now.”

Chidi’s cheeks warmed. “You don’t know that.”

“Do I not?” Marisa asked. “I think that I know more of this boy than you could begin to dream of, Chidi. More of his bravery, his dreams, aye, and all his choices and secret prayers too. For all that you feel for Allambee Omondi, do not think to lie to yourself and imagine that you alone are wounded and grieving at the sight of him laid low before us now. In time, it may well be you gain some little understanding of how such a noble sacrifice as this boy made tonight can echo across the whole of time.”

“Easy to say when you’re not the one dying,” said Chidi.

“Ask me on that fated day if ever you see me fallen beside you, then, Chidi Etienne,” said Marisa with such conviction in her voice as to make Chidi doubt herself. “Ask me on that dark day if I would change all my choices and my circumstance for a different outcome. For I tell you now, if my visions prove true, if my actions serve to save all those that I love from the foul things that I have seen and believe from my night terrors? Aye, then, Chidi. The answer I will give you on the day of my own death will be that all of my choices were worth every sacrifice and more.”

“How?” Chidi asked. “How can you say that when people die because of what you decide?”

“Because I have some understanding, Chidi. Little though it may be, I hold to some glimmer of choices gone wrong and what might be changed for good, if one were brave enough to face any outcome.” Marisa again reached down to stroke Allambee’s brow. “Anyone can and often do claim they would perform heroic acts,” her voice softened once more, devoid of the fiery knowing she had called down upon Chidi. “Such folk are rarer still that make noble words reality. It may well be that we weep for Allambee Omondi by the time this night is done, but I tell you now that the boy I came to with such an offer that he might aid the world and help his father too? That were a warrior who readily agreed to my words. Aye, and that he would do over and again, no matter the cost to himself. For that is the ultimate price of truest love, Chidi Etienne. When doom and darkness approach, there is but one question you need ask . . . one question to answer . . . one choice to make to save all that you hold dear.” She looked deep into Chidi’s eyes once more. “How far are you willing to go to protect and save the ones you love?”

As far as I need to go. Chidi thought to herself, her mind swarming with thoughts of all those lost before and taken from her. But I’m not the one paying the price right now.

She pictured her parents stolen away then, and little Sasha too. She thought of Racer and all the countless others slain at Henry’s hands. And when she gazed upon her injured friend, his face pinched in pain, Chidi understood that she would soon be to add Allambee Omondi’s name with all the rest who had gone before. All the names and faces of those she had loved and lost before. All the memories of their scattered fates that Chidi Etienne carried with her always.

Don’t let him die. She closed her eyes in begging prayer again. Please, whoever you are, whatever you want . . . don’t let him die because of me. Don’t let anyone else die because of me.

Bryant’s voice called her to look upon reality once more. “Chidi . . .”

She opened her eyes at the sound of grunting near the boat’s rear, of someone climbing the ladder to board. Chidi’s breath caught in her throat as the newcomer climbed the ladder to join them. When his face was revealed, Chidi found herself confronted with another ghost of her past. “Watawa . . .” She spoke his name in disbelief as the mystic Nomad joined them on the deck and knelt beside her. When their gazes met, shared grief lived in his one good eye at the sight lain before them all.

Watawa glanced away from Chidi, then placed his hands over Allambee’s body, keeping them an inch away from touching the injured boy’s skin and wounds. The shaman’s hands hovered over the boy in sweeping gesture, and Watawa’s good eye closed, his brow wrinkling as if he felt and absorbed some small part of Allambee’s pain. For a moment, Chidi swore that the burden of life in Allambee’s body was lifted, his wheezing breath turning to a sigh of contented peace as Watawa continued.

The boy’s face contorted once more, however, when the one-eyed Nomad ceased such movements.

Marisa stirred. “What do you see, Open Shell?”

Watawa met her question with one of his