Salt Storm: The Salted Series: Episodes #31-35 by Galvin, Aaron (top 5 books to read TXT) 📗

standoff until the other Orcs returned. When the last of his seawolves had gone, Malik glanced at Sydney and winked. “Farewell for now, my princess,” he said, already turning to leave their company. “I’ll come for you and your title again soon enough . . .”

30

GARRETT

Garrett ascended as fast as he was able, his Great White Shark tail powering him into the above. Frequently, he glanced over his shoulder, expecting to find both of Cursion’s killers following him toward the surface. For every time he looked back into the Salted depths for Ishmael and the Night-Stalker chieftain, Short-Shore, however, Garrett found darkness and no hint of anyone lingering there, or tracking him either.

What do I do? He gasped for a Salted breath as he swam. A part of him warned to heed Ishmael’s commands and to swim away while he was still able. To flee the gathered horde of Nomads and swim for the shore, or else move on toward New Pearlaya, alone. Yet for every time he considered such thoughts, his Nomad father’s face flashed in his mind also, the last moments of Cursion White Shadow being struck down by his assassins.

Garrett knew only red then, both of his primal minds, Nomad and Orc, united in shared anger and hatred for such betrayal. I have to tell someone, he thought as he approached the Nomad horde. If I don’t, then it will be left to Ishmael to spin whatever story he wants.

Each passing tail stroke drew him closer to the gathered tribes, yet Garrett slowed his speed before any might see him. Glancing over his shoulder, Garrett’s gaze drifted toward the east and more open waters. All promised empty miles ahead too, a journey that would ultimately end with his return to the Salt capital city.

Then what? Garrett wondered as he stared across the open water. The Blackfin takes me in? Or I end up facing another pod like Arsen’s? He looked back to the Nomads and the warriors who paid no mind to his swimming among their outskirts, his Great White Shark tail signaling Garrett belonged among them. And if the Orcs take me to the Blackfin, then what? What will he do to me?

Garrett swore he heard his Nomad father’s voice then, a reflection of Cursion White Shadow’s words to him about the difficulties of choice and what one must do when faced with hard decisions.

Angling away from the empty water, Garrett steered himself at the heart of the Horde, driving into their midst. His skin tingled with the notion that he should turn back and flee.

Atsidi, he distracted his mind from the detracting looks of other warriors as he swam through the mixed tribal lines in search of the Hammer chieftain. I have to find him. He’ll know what to do.

For all the Nomads in half-human form and their shark companions too, Garrett could find no trace of a Hammerhead Shark, or even a warrior with a Hammer tail among all the rest.

Garrett’s heart fluttered. Where is he? Where are all of his people? His gaze scoured the Nomad masses for any sight of a familiar face.

He found one in the navy-striped and tattooed form of the Tigress chieftain. Her body straightened when they locked eyes on one another. Even from afar, Garrett could see the furrow of her brow as she saw him swimming without Cursion.

The Tigress signaled to a pair of warriors nearby to follow her in a direct path toward Garrett.

She knows something is off! Garrett told himself. Again, he sped away, swimming a zig-zag through the other sharks, his gaze and mind both scattered in scouring all those he swam among. For each and every one, he recognized none of their faces or names.

In one direction, there were more of the Tiger clans with their stripe-adorned bodies and faces. The next, he witnessed a swarm of the Blue Shark tribes with their blue-tinted skin. Everywhere Garrett went, he felt their eyes looking toward him as he swam alone through their ranks. And for every time he looked over his shoulder, Garrett found the Tigress chieftain and her warriors still following him too.

They know . . . Garrett’s mind toyed with him. She was with Ishmael and Short-Shore in wanting to join the Sancul before. Maybe they had the Tigress waiting in the above for me in case I escaped when they came to kill Cursion.

The fearful thought sparked new adrenaline in him, Garrett pushing himself to exhaustion to escape the Tigress and her warriors. His skin prickled when the Tigress called out after him. Orc! She cried, alerting more than a few Garrett saw directly in his path ahead. Orc!

No . . . Garrett continued on, despite the added looks he saw in others around him, their hungry gazes lingering on the off-setting markings of his skin. No, no, no!

Stop him! The Tigress shouted.

Garrett dared to look back when she did, discovering that she had called more than a few warriors to her side. All of them swam after him.

Garrett whipped around to face forward once more. He nearly rammed into the Nomad in his path. Garrett veered away at last second, knocking shoulders with the one he meant to avoid. The blow spun them both sideways, slowing Garrett’s speed in an instant.

The Tigress and her warriors were upon him before he could regain his momentum.

Let me go! He shouted at them when the warriors laid hands on him, pulling him to an upright position once more. The Nomads refused to release him as their chieftain drifted toward Garrett. Let me go, he glowered at her.

Where is your father, Orc? The Tigress demanded of him, her face beautiful and terrible at once. Where is White Shadow?

Gathering his thoughts for the next council, Garrett forced the lie. He’s trying to figure out what to do next.

The Tigress scoffed. Our high chieftain ought to have decided already. Her lip curled as she studied his body, lingering on the two-toned patches of his