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

“No doubt your mother shares your sentiment,” said the king. “She was always more attuned to the theatrics and romance of such stories too. As for me . . .” He reached toward her, his fingers unfurling to reveal a single silver coin in his hand. “I preferred the wizardry of magicians.”

Sydney looked upon its face, expecting to see a male figurehead emblazoned on it like the coins she knew from home. Instead, she saw a blindfolded, Merrow female bearing a sword in one hand and the scales of justice in the other.

Repositioning the coin, Darius gave a flick of his thumb to send the coin flipping through the air before catching it in his palm more. “Magicians are the truest of showmen,” he said, flipping the coin over and again. “Or so I once believed their powers to be.” He snorted. “My father had revealed to me early on that despite all the roles played, or the masks and makeup worn, all that actors did were lies. Mere puppets, they are. Beautiful puppets, I grant you, but puppets all the same. All moving where they were told. Parroting words written by wiser minds. And all so that they might venture on stage each and every night to sell the combined wares of all to an audience that craved the lies they sold.”

But they’re not lies. Sydney reflected on all the stories Yvla told her while they hid in her brother’s house. The actors and the stories are representing truth. Warnings, even.

Darius smiled when he looked upon the coin in his palm. Presenting it to Sydney once more, he revealed the tail side of the coin – a triangular shark fin, rising from beneath the surface. “Ah, but magicians,” the king continued. “Now, there was true power.” He flipped the coin again, watching it dance through the air, its glimmer caught in the torchlight as it descended into his palm once more. “Actors begged you to believe their lies. Lured you to identify with them, inserting yourself as part of their story, even as you watched from the safety of your chair.” He frowned in flipping the coin once more. “But once you saw them close? Once you ventured backstage and witnessed the players unmasked? Then, you saw all the lies for what they truly were. The beautiful maiden, not a maid at all, but a shapely crone with wigs and makeup. And the brave knight you saw on stage could not swing a sword if his life depended upon it. No,” said the king. “Much as I too once loved them for it, I came to learn they were all liars up there on their glorified stage.” The king curled his fingers around the coin in his palm, staring at all the while. “Magicians though . . . they would present themselves and their wares right in front of you, Sydney. Give you the coin to inspect, even, that you might know there were no tricks or lies. And then, before your very eyes.” The king opened his hand once more, revealing the coin had vanished. “All you thought that you knew was gone in an instant . . . and yet you knew nothing of where it went, nor how the magic occurred.”

Sydney looked into the king’s eyes and found him staring back with icy sternness. “But it’s not gone,” she said. “They always bring it back because it was never really gone. That’s the magician’s lie. They hide the coin somewhere, or . . . I don’t know how they do it, but I know it’s all tricks.”

“Aye, tricks.” The king nodded, making a fist once more. When he opened it again, Sydney saw the coin in his palm once more with the shark fin showing. “And that is when I came to learn that all the world and players in it are all part of a greater trick, Sydney.” He pocketed the coin. “In the end, either you are the liar and take power with such tricks and fabled stories, or else you are the fool who craves the lies and are forever swindled by them. Which are you?”

“I don’t know,” said Sydney, her breath catching in her throat upon hearing marching footsteps approaching once more outside of the dungeon. “Neither.”

The king offered a sad smile. “There is no third option. No in-between. In the courts of this world, aye, or even Beyond, I shouldn’t wonder, there is only one choice or the other. The lesser of two evils, so to speak. In truth, I do not know yet which of the two you are, only that I was the latter, once. Aye, swallowing each and every lie you and your mother sold to me.” His shoulders sagged. “But no more, Sydney.”

The king stepped away as Solomon reentered the room with his Orcs and four hostages, each with sopping wet, burlap sacks placed over their heads to conceal their identities. The first pairing matched the armored Orcs in height, but one stood bulkier than the other. The other pairing was far smaller in height and stature. Where the taller and broader pairing held their ground, despite the rough treatment, the smaller two were shaking and barely able to stand.

Malik Blackfin’s hand drifted to the pommel of his sword as Solomon and the other Orcs lined the hostage up alongside one another. He nodded at the expert show and handling of his minions. “Remove their hoods.”

The Orcs obeyed, yanking off the hostage hoods, revealing each of the four prisoners had also been muffled with a Salt-soaked rag binding.

Sydney gasped in recognition of each and every one of the hostages. Owens? Her eyes welled with tears at the sight of her high school friend bound and gagged not twenty feet from her. His left eye was swelled shut and bruised, but the other was filled with furious rage until he noticed Sydney. Then, all of the fight in him was stolen away in an instant.

Owens mumbled something through