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

in the night after they were seemingly rescued from Crayfish Cavern. “That’ll catch some of the worser sort off guard when we reach the capital. If nothing else, we might give some of these we’re bringing with us a real shot at escape.”

“How so?” Tom asked. “Say we make it off the train and take control of the main station in New Pearlaya . . . then what? You’ll have near enough a thousand Selkie slaves tucked away right in the heart of the city, all of us nestled deep underground and with nowhere to go. Say nothing if one of the Orc soldiers there, or the Selkie taskmasters with them, gets way. All it’ll take is one of them running topside to alert the others throughout the city of a Selkie incursion.”

“Then, we better make sure none of that sort gets away,” said Lenny. “As for what to do with the older Selkies and the children after, methinks I know a guy who might be able to help us in that department . . .” Lenny’s gaze shifted to his father’s friend. “What do ya say, Jemmy? You got any ideas of how we smuggle these people topside?”

“Aye, brudda,” said the former tavern owner and Selkie conductor. “You talking about my city, mon. Jemmy T? Him be helping you and these here on their way to freedom always.” He smiled so wide that Lenny thought his face might break. “These Orcs worried about another Selkie Strife? Jemmy T gonna give them one, yeah?” He laughed. “Aye, just like in them good ol’ days when we be running and fighting with Declan Dolan.”

“I’ll cheers to that, then,” Brutus growled. “For if it’s hope and fighting and freedom you’re selling for our kind, Dolan, then I’ll fight with you the same as I did for your father before.”

Lenny and Tom Weaver shared a look, the elder Selkie nodding in agreement.

“All right then, Dolan,” said Tom. “Let’s get these people on board. Seems we all got us a north-bound train to catch.”

20

SYDNEY

When she had been imprisoned in the oubliette, Sydney longed for any hint of light.

Now, with the traitor trails ended for the day, Sydney had been placed back inside the glass cell that were housed in the royal dungeons. Rubbing her eyes, she wondered if the Orcs guarding her would ever allow the torchlights surrounding her tank to be put out. Every few hours, when the torches began to dim, the guards changed shifts. The old guards would leave and take the dimmed torches with them. The newer would replace the lanterns with fresh pitch to brighten the dungeon housing Sydney once more.

All the while, Sydney’s water-filled tank hung poised over the darkness of the oubliette in warning that the Orcs should again cast her into the pit if she gave them any objection, or fuss.

Sydney had neither the strength or will to defy her Orc captors. She lazed at the bottom of her tank as best as she could. Had she been in her full human form, her knees would have been tucked against her chest. Instead, Sydney lay her cheek against her rubbery dolphin tail.

When weariness attempted to take her, Sydney fought against the oncoming sleep. For each time she closed her eyes, the horrors she had witnessed the Blackfin commit returned to haunt her. From his breaking Yvla’s body, to executing Ms. Morgan at the traitor trials, the shade of the Blackfin swam with Sydney always in her dreams, he and his pod hunting her and all those she cared for.

Through the blur of her tired eyes and the surrounding water, Sydney thought she saw the Blackfin coming for her again when the dungeon doors leading into her outer cell were opened by the Orcish guards outside.

Rather than allow the Blackfin to see her defeated, Sydney straightened inside the tank, her lip curling as a pair of hooded figures walked into the dungeon. Based on the way the Orc guards stood to attention, Sydney estimated the first of the newcomers to be the king. Though her assessment proved correct when both of the newcomers dropped their hoods, Sydney’s brow furrowed at the one who stood alongside the king. Rupert?

Pressing her hand against the glass at the sight of him, Sydney retracted the gesture a moment later. No words between them were needed to understand the betrayed hurt in Rupert’s eyes. Where first she believed it pained Rupert to see her held prisoner, all such notions vanished the longer Sydney watched him stare at her shark tail.

Darius patted the young lordling upon the shoulder. “There,” the king pointed to Sydney’s tail. “You see now, my friend? Do you still doubt all that I have told you?”

Rupert’s reply came so quietly that Sydney scarcely heard him. “No, Your Grace.”

Rupert! Sydney called to him, hoping for a flicker of recognition in her friend. Her former riding trainer would not look at her, his gaze holding on her tail in disbelief. Rupert, look at me! Please!

The king intervened. “He is looking at you, Sydney,” said Darius. “And therein lies the issue. He sees you truly now. Both your savage origins . . . and the heart of all the wicked lies you and your mother have told.”

Sydney shook her head as Rupert finally looked up at her. There were questions aplenty in his gaze. The pain she saw in them wounded Sydney more. Rupert . . .

The king glared at her. “Quiet! We did not come to treat with you, girl.”

Why did you come, then? Sydney asked.

“The Blackfin did his duty,” said Darius. “He mentioned you and Lord Bowrider had a conversation in private earlier today, before the trials began. Indeed, it was said that your friend, Rupert, here was quite adamant to speak with you alone.” He shrugged. “Naturally, I was curious to hear what was so important that the pair of you needed to meet in private. I could have certainly arranged such a meeting between you both,