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

for the Orcs to release his daughter. He stopped shouting when another Orc came for him next, knocking Jack over the head for added measure before bringing him out of the cage to still more booing from the crowd.

Sydney winced at the crowd’s shouting calls of Amelia and her father being traitors and worse. Both were led to stand before the masses near the center of barge-like stage.

Malik Blackfin waved the crowd to silence. Then, he turned toward the prisoners, his voice booming for all to hear. “Your name, girl. What is it, and where are you from?”

Amelia whimpered a reply.

“Louder,” said Malik.

“M-My name is Amelia Mayfield,” she said. “I-I used to live at the Indianapolis Zoo.”

Malik’s head cocked to the side. “‘Used to’, you say?”

“Yessir.”

“You’ll have to forgive me, dear, but there are many among the king’s true and loyal subjects here who have never left this city, nor heard of such a place where refugees band together after they claim to swallow the anchor. Tell us, child . . . what is a zoo?”

Sydney’s eyes widened then, remembering the story he had told her of his own pilgrimage ashore to visit a zoo with his father and sister. From afar, she saw that Makeda too was shaking her head, she understanding better than most where her brother meant to lead the crowd.

As Amelia explained what a zoo was and of her life ashore, the crowd began to boo louder for her continued definition.

“So,” Malik interrupted Amelia. “These zoos . . . they are a prison for our people, yes? Cells to keep our people from our rightful heritage that we might instead be gawked at by mindless humans?”

“No,” said Amelia. “It . . . it was my home.”

“And were you happy there, child?” Malik asked. “Living out the life of a refugee among the Drybacks? No . . . for how could you be satisfied inside a small, watery tank when you could have had the whole Salt to swim in?”

Amelia blushed. “I was happy though . . .”

“Why leave, then?” Malik asked. “Why run away from the confinement you name as a home to venture into the Salt?”

Amelia’s mouth worked open and closed, her eyes darting toward Sydney. “I . . . I . . .”

“Speak, girl!” Malik barked. “Or did the Drybacks take your spirit, in addition to your freedom?”

“No,” said Amelia.

“Why, then?” Malik pressed her. “Why did you choose to leave your home and this zoo upon the shore?”

Amelia glanced at Sydney again. “I-I wanted to see the Salt,” she said finally.

For a moment, Sydney believed Malik meant to bring her into the conversation by way of Amelia’s answers.

But the Blackfin was not finished with his inquiry. “She wanted to see the Salt . . .” he said, his voice lighter in tone, drawing the crowd further in to ensure they heard his every word. “Only a child . . . and yet the waters of her true home called to her, bidding this girl to return and swim freely in search of her own destiny and her kindred too.” Malik turned back to Amelia. “But why now, child? Why after so many years abroad? What prompted this longing in you, girl? This desire to return to the Salt?”

Again, Amelia could not help but look in Sydney’s direction.

Don’t. Sydney thought. Don’t play his games . . .

Amelia’s father spoke up for her instead.

“The princess,” said Jack Mayfield. “The princess, Sydney, convinced my daughter to go. Begged her and the son of General Owens to leave our home and return to the Salt.”

When Malik’s grin widened, Sydney’s knuckles whitened in gripping the edge of her chair.

“And had any of this young trio been to the Salt before?” Malik asked.

Jack slumped, his chains rattling. “No, sir . . .”

Malik scratched his head. “I’m confused, sir. If the children had never been, how then would they know the way?”

Jack glared back at the Blackfin and the Orcs surrounding him and his daughter. “They freed a prisoner from the zoo, sir . . .”

Malik Blackfin raised his hand to quiet the immediate gasps and questions from the crowd. “A prisoner, you say?” He asked, delight lingering in his every word. “And this prisoner’s name . . . his race? Do you know it?”

“Aye, sir,” said Jack quietly. “He’s a Selkie, er, a Welkie, rather.”

Malik stepped closer to Amelia, resting his hand upon her shoulder in plain view of her father. “The name, sir,” Malik insisted of Jack. “Who was this prisoner taken and kept ashore?”

Jack shook at the visible threat upon his daughter. “Brutus,” he said, his voice simmering in reply. “Brutus the Butcher.”

Sydney’s face pale at the immediate scorn from the audience. We didn’t know he was a murderer. She thought, watching in horror as the Painted Guard fanned out around the barge in warning for any of those among the crowd to think twice about leaving the stands and coming to give action to their cries for vengeance and blood. We didn’t know who Brutus was, or what he had done in the Selkie Strife. We didn’t know he fought against the crown and led the Selkie rebellions. She looked from Amelia at the center and then to Owens in the cage beside his father. Neither would look at her, both staring at the floor in response of Jack’s truthful answers.

Sydney held to her weak defense. We didn’t know . . .

But you did, her subconscious argued with her. You did know some things . . . or you could have, if you had listened to Owens that night and stayed at the zoo.

Sydney too looked at the floor then, as if the barge beneath her might hold the answers. Why didn’t we stop? She wondered then. Why didn’t we think twice about it?

Garrett Weaver’s face came to the forefront of her mind then, and more tears to follow. Sydney realized, then, that she had not thought of either Garrett’s safety, or his whereabouts, in many a