Salt Storm: The Salted Series: Episodes #31-35

by Galvin, Aaron

  Sydney shouted as Malik clapped his hand on Owens’ shoulder, then dropped her friend to his knees with a swift kick.

  Mr. Owens came alive then too. It took Solomon and two other Orcs to restrain Mr. Owens as the Blackfin drew a dagger from the sheathe upon his belt.

  Owens snorted and tried to rise. For all the good it did him, he continued to fight against those coming to keep him down too. Even as the Blackfin stepped behind him, Owens shouted a muffled defiance through the gag in his mouth.

  “Please!” Sydney howled, watching the Blackfin raise his dagger, the tip of it poised over the back of Owens’s neck. “Stop this!”

  The Blackfin would not. With a quick decisive move, he reached forward with his free hand and grabbed hold of the gag binding that was tied off at the back of Owens’ head. The Blackfin slipped the blade beneath the stripping and cut it loose, freeing Owens to speak before stepping away.

  “Owens!” Sydney cried. “Owens, look at me.”

  “Syd,” he croaked, pushing up from the floor. “I’m sorry, Syd.”

  Malik Blackfin laughed at their exchange. “What are you sorry for, boy? Following a liar?” he asked. “Or that doing so landed you and your traitor father here?”

  “That we’re stuck here with you, man,” Owens spat. “And my Pop’s is no traitor.”

  The Blackfin kicked him square in the face, knocking Owens aside again. “Brave boy,” he chuckled even as he signaled his Orcs to raise Owens to his knees. “You would have made a noble sea-wolf in my Violovar.”

  Sydney shook her head when seeing Owens still dizzied by the blow. “Stop this,” she cried to Malik Blackfin, then looked to the king when she received no response or pity from him. “Please! You don’t need to do this.”

  The king nodded. “On that we are agreed,” he said in answer to her. Then, he looked at Owens. “Tell me, boy. You lived ashore also and came to the Salt with my daughter—” the king’s face reddened at the mistake. “With this girl here. You do remember Sydney, yes?”

  Owens nodded. “Yeah . . .”

  The Blackfin gave Owens a nudge in the back with his boot. “Careful, boy. That’s your king who stands before you. Speak to him again without any manners and those will be your last words.”

  Owens glanced at Sydney with his good eye, then mumbled a response. “Yes, sir.”

  Malik rapped Owens over the head. “He’s no sir, boy. Call him ‘Your Grace’, or—”

  “Blackfin,” the king raised a hand to quiet him. “Clearly, this boy does not where he is. Say nothing of the danger presented to him even now.”

  Malik flashed his dagger. “Shall him I teach him, Your Grace?”

  “No. Not yet anyway.” The king’s gaze flickered to Sydney instead. “This lesson is not meant for him anyway.”

  It’s for me. Sydney thought to herself, her heart breaking at the sight of more familiar faces and friends suffering as the result of her choices. This is all because of me.

  Darius called to Owens. “Boy . . . I remain curious as to the true reason that you, Sydney, and these other oath-breakers decided to follow my wife and return to my kingdom. Care to shed some light on it for me?”

  “I already told your soldiers before they put a beating on me, Your Grace,” said Owens. “Me, Syd, and Amelia came looking for Garrett Weaver. We came to rescue him from Selkie slavers and take him home. That’s it and that’s all.”

  “Clever lad,” said Darius quietly. “Holding to your shared stories. But then Nattie and your father, the shamed former general here, well, they would have ensured you all aligned your lies before Makeda brought you into my city, wouldn’t they?”

  “It’s the truth, Your Grace,” said Owens. “I’m telling you.”

  Darius frowned. “Blackfin . . . I believe he’ll need that lesson after all.”

  Again, Sydney fought those restraining her as the Blackfin nodded and went to obey the king’s command. Her breath caught in her throat, however, when the Blackfin’s blow did not fall upon Owens, but his father instead. Sydney winced at the onslaught of kicks and punches rained upon Mr. Owens by the Blackfin, Solomon, and other Orcs.

  Owens too fought to no avail then. “Leave my Pop alone!” He cried through his own tears at his father strewn upon the floor as the beating continued. “You’re killing him!”

  “Not yet, they aren’t,” said Darius. “But the general soon will be dead, if you won’t give me the truth, boy.”

  Sydney screamed then, wincing for every landed blow upon Mr. Owens. “He’s telling you the truth! Please! We’re all telling you the truth! What else do you want from us?”

  Darius raised his hand, signaling the Orcs to cease in their attack.

  Sydney immediately looked to Mr. Owens, the slow rise and fall of his chest signaling he yet lived.

  “Pop!” Owens cried out. “Pop, talk to me!”

  Mr. Owens mumbled a response.

  Please be okay. Sydney prayed as she watched the mammoth Orc roll over, wheezing through the gag in his mouth. Please don’t die because of me.

  The king stepped in front of her, blocking her view of him. “You already know what I want, Sydney,” he said. “Truthful answers to my questions. That is all I require of you.”

  Sydney glared up at him. “I’ve already given you both. I don’t know what else you want me to say!”

  “Where is your brother?” Darius asked her. “Why did your mother decide—”

  “We left Jun at home!” Sydney shouted. “What else do you want from me? I don’t know where Jun is if he isn’t ashore and back at home in Indiana!”

  Darius scowled at her before turning to Owens again. “And you, boy? What do you know of the prince’s whereabouts? Assuming he is my son, that is, and not some other bastard pretender.”

  Owens took one glance at his father, then shook his head. “It’s like Sydney said, Your Grace. We don’t know. Me and my Pop was supposed to get Sydney from the zoo and take her back home to be with Jun. But then me, Syd, and Amelia decided to go out looking for Weaver in the Salt instead.”

  “But why?” the king asked. “Why would you forsake your prince’s safety for an orphaned Orc?”

  Because of me. Sydney knew when Owens looked at her for what to say. Unable to withstand his questioning gaze, she looked to Amelia and found her crying too. Because I convinced them all to come with me.

  Owens mustered a response. “We didn’t know Jun was a prince,” he said. “Or Sydney a princess either. For all we knew, Jun was safe at home. Our friend, Weaver, wasn’t. We just wanted to get him back. That’s all.”

  “And where is this Weaver now?” Darius asked. “This orphaned Orc you all seem so concerned with?”

  Malik Blackfin chuckled. “He abandoned them all, Your Grace. He betrayed my sister and the Painted Guard, then murdered a few good and loyal soldiers before fleeing once he discovered they knew of his true intentions for venturing into our city.”

  “That’s a lie,” said Owens. “We didn’t have any plans for coming here, man. All we wanted after we found Weaver was to go home. It was Makeda and the Painted Guard who forced us to come here and then turned on us and her too! They’re the ones who betrayed Makeda and—”

  “Enough!” Darius silenced him. “The daughter of Orcin will stand trial and speak in her own defense at a later time. We’re here tonight to discuss the queen’s crimes. Will you give us the truth of them here and now, lad? Aye, and at her trial also?”

  They want him to lie? Sydney wondered. That’s what this is about!?

  Owens’s brow furrowed. “I don’t know what else to tell you, Your Grace. Already told you everything I know.”

  “And what if I said your father’s fate depended on your answers, boy?” Darius asked. “Would you have any further truth or explanations?”

  It is. That’s what this is all about. Sydney choked at the realization. They want us to lie . . . to lie against Mom.

  Owens seemed to understand the king’s meaning the
n too. “I gave you all the truth I got, Your Grace. My Pop too.”

  Sydney pushed to the limits of her captors’ grips. “Owens, just do it,” she said. “Do what they say. They’ll kill you and your dad if you don’t.”

  “They’re gonna kill us anyway, Syd,” Owens replied, his bottom lip shaking even as he flung defiance at the king and Blackfin. “But I ain’t gonna help them kill nobody else.” He glared at the king. “You don’t like my answers, Your Grace?” Owens spat at the king’s feet.

  Malik Blackfin laughed and gave Owens’s head a rough rubbing. “Aye, now there be a sea-wolf if ever I saw one.” He nodded in respectful show. “You are your father’s son, boy. I’ll give you that. Aye, you do General Owens and your forefathers proud.”

  The king snorted at Malik’s praising of Owens. With no better answers from his Orc hostages, Darius turned toward Amelia and her father. “I wonder, boy, if your Merrow friends feel the same.”

  Sydney’s face paled when the Blackfin took up the king’s meaning.

  Leaving Owens and his father to the other Orcs, Malik strode toward Amelia and took her gently by the arm. “Hush, now,” he said to her, separating Amelia from her trembling father, then leading her onward. “Answer truly and you have nothing to fear, girl.”

  Sydney wept at the state of her terrified friend, barely able to shuffle forward alongside her captor.

  Amelia’s face bore none of the bruises that her father did, yet she shook all the more for her fear as Malik positioned her in front of the king and then cut free the gag in her mouth.

  “What say you, girl?” Darius asked her. “What truths would you give me and the crowds to come about the queen’s reasoning for returning to the Salt, yet leaving our prince behind? Abandoning him, some might say.”

  I’m sorry. Sydney thought when Amelia trembled further at the question, their gazes meeting for a brief moment. God, I’m so sorry.

  Amelia offered an incoherent response, her voice squeaking like a frightened mouse.

  Malik nudged her. “Speak up, girl. Let the king hear you.”

  “I-I’ll do anything,” she said, her face flushing as she glanced at Owens on the floor near his injured father. “I’ll say anything you want. Just please don’t hurt them anymore.”

  “No, sweet child,” said Darius. “We don’t want to hurt your friends, nor the queen either. We only want the truth.”

  You have the truth. Sydney thought as Darius gave orders for the Orcs to remove the hostages from the dungeon. You just don’t like it.

  Her body and spirit numb, Sydney collapsed as the Orcs threw hoods over the four hostages. How many of us? She wondered then. If they have Amelia and Owens, then how many of my other friends and their families do they have down here?

  Beside her, the makeshift bone wand that the Blackfin had cast aside lay within her reach. She did not hesitate to reach for it, her grip tightening on the bone wand with her guards distracted by the hostages. As her fingers closed upon the bone, she almost believed it was a whip handle like Yvla’s had been. Sydney imagined striking the king. To stand against all the enemies as her former guardian had done and to try and free her friends.

  When she looked down at the bone and bit of tattered rag tied to it, Sydney knew she could mount no such defense against the Blackfin and his Orcs. Much as she craved Yvla’s teachings in that moment, it was another memory that spoke to her instead.

  Anything can be a weapon, girl . . . she remembered the steady voice of Yvla’s brother, Quill, saying to her inside his home. If you open your eyes to see.

  Sydney’s lip curled as the Orcs laid hands on her friends and took them away once more, just as she had witnessed them do for her mother too. You want truth? She thought, turning her gaze on the king, her fingers releasing the bone to find the swirled bit of the tattered rag instead as the Orcs guards pulled her up to stand again. I’ll give you some.

  The moment the king turned around, Sydney jerked her wand arm free of the Orc holding her. Imagining the whip flying out before her as she had done over and again inside the oubliette, Sydney flicked her wrist, holding onto the rag’s end, sending the bone flying out before her, its aim directed at the king. Reaching the end of its tattered binding, the bone swung around as the wet cloth snapped taut.

  Darius turned nearly too late to avoid the object flying at his face. He ducked at the last, the bone meant to strike him in the head instead slapping off the crown he wore and sending it skittering across the floor.

  Wide-eyed and scarcely believing she had connected with her target, Sydney quickly tried to pull the bone back toward her at the end of its binding.

  The Blackfin stomped on the bone, snapping it half before she could call it home.

  The king too was rising again. “Blackfin!” he snarled. “Cast this savage back into the oubliette. It would seem she requires more time to think on her life and loyalties before the trials begin.”

  “I already know the answers to both,” said Sydney, drawing on the courage she had witnessed from her mother and her friends. “It’s like you said before, Your Grace. You’re the one who wants the lie.”

  The king’s face darkened as one of the Orcs gave him back his crown. Darius placed the newly dirtied, gold circlet encrusted with sapphires beyond counting upon his head before venturing over to Sydney. For a moment, she thought he meant to strike her, just as she had seen him do for the queen.

  But Darius made no such move. “Perhaps you’re right, Sydney,” he said quietly. “Perhaps I do welcome the lies rather than truth . . . but believe me when I say to you, child, that before these traitor trials are done, I’m going to teach you and your whore mother just how much lies can hurt.”

  5

  LENNY

  The Sailfish train’s whistle screamed over and again as it fled through the tunnel, barreling away from the Ancient City of Song, the ugly memories there, and all those who had sought to keep the Selkies prisoners trapped inside its frozen ruins.

  His Ringed Seal hood drawn, Lenny Dolan emerged from the caboose train car to escape the other newly freed Selkies who remained within. He closed the door behind him, silencing the others’ voices and their ongoing, celebratory chatter. Lenny sat upon the rickety, frost-covered wood flooring, even as it rumbled and rattled beneath him.

  The caboose swayed with constant movement, the train speeding onward through the black tunnel. The exhaust steam from its engine swept past Lenny, trailing the train in a thick, chalky smoke that lingered on like a phantom trail for anyone left behind to follow.

  Lenny Dolan knew that no one would.

  He and the former Selkie prisoners had left the Ancient City of Song to its legends and its ghosts. Both the older spirits who had already lingered there, and those newly given over to the forgotten, ruined palace trapped among and beneath the ice.

  Lenny hugged his knees to his chest. His Selkie suit staved off the physical cold of the Antarctic tunnel from seeping through, but no amount of mysticism or magical coat could thwart the other, frozen feel knifing him at every thought of the dead he left behind in Røyrkval.

  None inside the train cars had noticed the little man maneuvering through their midst, seeking asylum from their noise and their company. Where most of the other Selkies sought sustenance and the kinship from those who had endured their shared experiences, the hollowness in Lenny Dolan could not be filled with food or drink. As for kinship . . .

  Lenny repeated his father’s words, whispering them aloud, if only to hear and remember them as if his idol sat beside him. “‘Always have two ways out . . .’”

  Even as he spoke his father’s words, Lenny knew his voice did not carry half the authority or wisdom that Declan Dolan’s had done.

  Blinking away the sting in his eyes, Lenny rested the back of his head against the train car wall, losing himself to the clack of the railway beneath him.

  The constant motion of the rocking train car and repetitive noise from the wheels threatened to lull him to s
leep. Lenny pinched himself awake, his mind and body wiped of any reserves that the strength of adrenaline had provided when fighting for his life and freedom against the Orcs in Røyrkval. Both mattered little to him now, each clacking sound beneath him a reminder of the added distance put between him and the cost incurred to safeguard his freedom and his life.

  Dolans don’t leave others behind.

  Lenny winced at the thought, his father’s voice as clear in his memory as it had been in life.

  I didn’t leave ya, Pop. Lenny reopened his eyes to face reality, the darkness he and the others had escaped from due to his father’s final plan and sacrifice. Told ya before, he imagined himself arguing with Declan Dolan just one more time. I’ll carry ya with me forever.

  The train whistle sounded again, the shrieking call living on long past its normal life.

  Lenny swore under his breath when those inside the train car cheered alongside the whistle. Idiots, he thought to himself. We’re not outta this yet. Lenny knew, staring into the darkness, thoughts of his father swirling in his mind. There’s nothing but more Orcs and fighting ahead of us. Lenny scowled, thinking on the stopping point that lay ahead in the newly freed Selkies’ shared journey upon the railway. What do I do, Pop? He wondered, remembering the cavern staging point, Bouvetøya, where the Orcs had stopped for supplies and further slaves when Lenny and Declan had been brought down from the capital of New Pearlaya. Neither the Dolans, nor his father’s friend, Jemmy T, had been removed from the train cars in Bouvetøya. Still, Lenny recalled the brief stop well enough for the memory of the slaughter there. The Orc soldiers had been positioned outside the train cars, all waiting to kill any Selkie prisoner attempting to escape for want of clean air and water the moment that the doors were opened.

  So, how do we stop the Orcs from killing us this time, Pop? Lenny wondered, over and again. The idea of escaping one forgotten city only to be overtaken in the next needled at him, as did the notion that Declan would have held all the answers for the coming problem and seen still more issues that Lenny could only guess at. Worst of all the questions, doubts, and problems plaguing Lenny Dolan’s mind was the notion that his father’s sacrifice would be in vain if Lenny and the other Selkies could find no solution to their upcoming problems.