Salt Storm: The Salted Series: Episodes #31-35 Galvin, Aaron (classic fiction txt) 📖

long wondered over from the start of her encounters with the mystic and elusive Silkie runner.

What else has Marisa seen and not told any of us?

Chidi had little time ponder such thoughts.

Watawa gently touched upon her seal back, nudging her to swim forward. Go, child. He motioned ahead to the ring of Hammers and the warriors in half-human form. Atsidi Darksnout calls you to meet with him.

Why? Chidi wondered. She forced herself to swim onward, if only so that Allambee might see her and know she had not abandoned him. With a swish of her hind-flippers, she sped forward to cross the distance. She cringed under the scrutinous stares of the warrior wall that she approached. Without warning or signal, the Nomad warriors opened their ranks to allow her to meet with the ones they safeguarded within.

Beyond, Chidi glimpsed Allambee slumped in his father’s arms. At a momentary glance, she recognized her own pain and grief paled in compare to the hollowed look that lived in the mournful eyes of Atsidi Darksnout.

Safely within the warrior ring, Chidi shivered nonetheless when the Nomads closed ranks behind her. Even as she dared to glimpse below, she found still more Hammers lingering in the depths also, their long, silvery bodies patrolling back and forth to ensure their leader was not disturbed from anyone swimming below either. Chidi startled again when the voice of Atsidi Darksnout entered her mind.

Come, Silkie, Atsidi quietly commanded her. Swim nearer to us. My son would have you at his side . . .

Chidi obliged, coasting through the water that she might look on her fallen friend again, her heart and soul both bidding her to accept the fateful truth that all others had already recognized. Despite the eyes of the Hammer chieftain watching her all the while, Chidi could not break her stare of Allambee Omondi.

The Salt had cleaned his wounds, his face pale in the moonlit water. He looked almost asleep to Chidi’s mind, the same as she had found him not an hour before upon their boat. Why did you have to come with us, Allambee? Chidi wondered, her eyes stinging as she hovered nearby, willing him to open his eyes. She wished for him to be whole again, and to cheer her as he had always done since their first meeting upon the shore outside of Chicago too. Why didn’t you just listen to me and stay behind with Zymon and all the rest that we left ashore?

Why didn’t you make him? Chidi’s conscience debated with her. You knew what awaited him here in the Salt . . . knew it from the first moment you met him on the beach outside of Chicago . . . and still you did nothing to save him.

I tried . . . Chidi defended against her guilt. I didn’t want him to come. I tried to protect him.

You failed . . . the nagging voice whispered within her, the same voice Chidi had come to know and submit to in all the long years since serving under Henry Boucher’s harsh tutelage. Just as you always fail, Chidi . . . you can’t help anyone. How many more innocents need to die before you understand and accept that too?

I’m sorry . . . Chidi whispered, not understanding that she had given voice to her thoughts until Atsidi Darksnout answered her in turn.

You are sorry? The Hammer chieftain asked. For what reason? Did you cause this hurt upon my son?

In a way, yes, said Chidi, swept in the tidal wave of guilt taking over her, mind and body. He was wounded because he was trying to save me from the Orcs.

Succeeded, Atsidi gently chided. Not trying. It would seem my son proved successful in his sacrifice, else you would not swim here, my Silkie friend.

Aye, said Chidi, her seal head nodding agreement and submission of his claim. When she dared to look up once more, she found Atsidi no longer watching her, but focused on his son instead.

Watawa the Open Shell claims my son reached for you among all the others, said Atsidi. That he whispered your name at the last. Even in these, his final moments with me . . . aye, with death singing his name, and despite all such circumstance, it remains your name that I have heard my son whisper and call after . . . the Hammer chieftain looked to her in full. Your name is Chidi, yes?

It is, she answered.

Then, tell me, Chidi, said Atsidi Darksnout, his eyes gleaming as he gazed upon her, his voice breaking. How is it that in my son’s last moments in this world, why is it that I am to hear your name upon his lips? What special bond between you?

He . . . he’s my friend, said Chidi.

Atsidi nodded. Then, as his friend, tell me something of the son I have only now come to meet. The same as I must soon bid farewell too in the same breath. What fate led him to this brave end?

Marisa Bourgeois, Chidi thought, but did not say. The longer she searched her mind for an answer, she gathered there was more than a little truth there also. Allambee wanted to meet you, she said to Atsidi Darksnout, reflecting again to among the first conversations she and Allambee had together, and on all the conversations since as well. Meeting you is all he’s ever dreamed about. He’s traveled far and wide on the hope of meeting and helping you.

Helping me? Atsidi asked, even as he clutched Allambee closer. How?

I don’t know, said Chidi. He told me that his mother often said you were a great warrior. She hesitated when Atsidi’s eyes squinted in question of her. But that you had done some bad things and would need his help to find your way again.

His mother said such things? Atsidi asked, his brow wrinkling. Was she with you also?

No, said Chidi. I never met her.

Atsidi slumped before coming around again. And did