Sopping wet, dirty and disheveled, and with her head shorn, Nattie Gao looked nothing like the mother Sydney remembered. The queen still wore the same gown from the night Darius ordered her taken into custody, yet now the dress of Nattie Gao was mildewy and stained as if she were a true commoner plucked and dragged out of the Beam Ends. The disgraced queen’s body was pale and withered too. For all the seeming weakness of her physical form and dress, Sydney recognized a defiance in her mother’s eyes the like of which Sydney had never seen too. Despite her circumstance, the jeers and boos from the crowd, Nattie Gao stood resolute within her cage. She did not waver from it even as Malik Blackfin approached her.
“Look you to this fallen queen!” He barked to the crowd. “She stands accused of high treason for acts of adultery, sedition . . . and plotting to kill our beloved king.”
Kill him? Sydney’s immediate question and disavowing of such crimes were lost to the crowd’s deafening response.
The Blackfin allowed the masses their reaction, not continuing until the majority had quieted once more. “Still . . .” he silenced the last of them with a word. “His royal highness is ever just and fair, even unto his enemies.”
Bile rose in Sydney’s throat as she looked on the king’s stony face beside her.
Malik Blackfin went on. “In his infinite wisdom, the king has decreed his wife be given an honest trial. The chance to refute her supposed crimes and bring evidence to the contrary,” Malik turned to Nattie in her cage. “What say you to these charges, my queen? Are you guilty or no?”
Nattie met his question and the awaiting crowd with silence. In her steely eyes, the queen gave answer aplenty to Malik Blackfin and the Merrow king.
Why won’t you say anything, Mom? Sydney wondered, her heart breaking as the crowd booed and shouted further threat and dares for the queen to speak out against her captors and charges laid against her. Or do you keep quiet because all the charges are true? She shuddered. Because both me and Jun don’t belong to Darius . . . and you know what it will mean, if you admit it?
Malik Blackfin’s grin broadened at Nattie’s continued silence. “Very well, my queen,” he said. “We’ll look to those closest to you for the truth of your supposed crimes or no.” Malik turned his head. “Bring out the witnesses!”
Sydney’s eyes rounded when Malik’s second-in-command, Solomon, led the other Orc soldiers to remove the curtain from the other cages upon the barge. For every cage revealed, Sydney’s eyes stung with the sight of still more familiar faces.
Owens, her high school friend and traveling companion, stood tall inside one cage with a grouping of near twenty other Orcs and his father too. Each of them was as dirty and disheveled as the queen, each burdened by chains and fetters, each of them standing without room for any to sit.
Makeda, the former pod mother of the Painted Guard, stood beside Mr. Owens and at the head of the other caged Orcinians also. Stripped of her armor, Makeda too looked smaller now than Sydney remembered her being when surrounded by Painted Guard soldiers and with a sword at her side. Like with the queen, however, there was no denying the look in Makeda’s unbroken and condemning stare as she glared at her brother beyond the bars.
Other cages housed more friends and people known to Sydney also. Her chest tightened when finding Merrows from the Indianapolis zoo – the aerialist performer, Amelia, chained alongside her father, Jack Mayfield, the zoo’s longtime seal and sea lion trainer.
Sydney estimated roughly thirty yards between her vantage point and theirs, but she could tell that her friend was crying too. She watched helplessly as Amelia leaned into her father’s embrace to shield her from the taunting crowd. I’m sorry. Sydney wished that she could say. That her friend might truly understand how much Sydney wished that she could take every decision back. Every choice starting with the one that had led to she and Amelia convincing Owens to leave with them in the night. All with the hope of finding Garrett Weaver and the Selkies who had taken him.
Other prisoners were gathered inside the cages too. Sydney could not name them all, but she recognized more than not. Her heart sank for the knowledge of that favored place she had come to know and meet so many of those inside the cage in her life before coming into the Salt.
Home. Sydney choked. They’re almost all from home . . . the Indy Zoo . . .
Fear took her fully then, Sydney’s gaze sweeping over the prisoner faces in search of her brother, Jun, among them. She thought of her mother’s friend, Barb, and Wilda too, the eldest of them all and Amelia’s grandmother. For all the familiar faces gathered inside the cages, Sydney did not see any of those three.
She did recognize the last of them coming to the front of the cages though, a tiny and elderly woman she had seen nearly every day of school for the past six years. Ms. Morgan? Sydney’s brow furrowed at the sight of her school’s crotchety vice principal.
The old spinster’s glasses were gone and much of her face and body covered in bruises, but her one good eye was sharp in constant watch of the Blackfin and his Orcs beyond. Ms. Morgan gripped the iron bars of her cage to steady herself, she alone holding her ground as the Orcs came to unlock the gate.
How did you all get here? Sydney wondered of her friends and the other prisoners. Why are you all here?
As the gate was swung open, Solomon entered in and made his choice of which prisoner to bring out first.
Amelia’s face turned ashen as Solomon chose her from the lot, taking her roughly by the arm.
Jack Mayfield screamed obscenities and threats 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 yo
ur 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 day. The last she had seen of Garrett, the two of them had been with Owens when they all entered New Pearlaya together. All to find Makeda awaiting within to collect Sydney’s two former classmates and force them into service of the Painted Guard.
Sydney looked over to the Orc cages then, studying their faces once more as if she might have missed seeing Garrett among them. A part of her craved seeing him there, if only because it would prove that he too was still alive for the moment.
But, as with her brother, Jun, her Silkie friend, Ellie, and so many others from home and those Sydney had come to know beneath the waves, Garrett Weaver was not among the prisoners.
Sydney clung to their absences as a sliver of hope when Malik Blackfin shouted the crowds to quite once more.
“So,” he continued his inquiry of Jack Mayfield and Amelia. “Your daughter traveled here with both the princess and the son of another traitor—”
“My dad’s not a traitor!” Owens interrupted, shouting from the cage that held him. “He’s as loyal a soldier as you’ll ever find! He’d take down any of you fools in a fair fight too!”
Sydney’s breath caught in her throat as Solomon rushed to the cage, his hand already reaching for his sword.
“Peace, Solomon,” Malik called him down. “The boy clearly does not understand the severity of his situation.”
Owens would not be silenced. “I know you’re the real traitor,” he said to Malik. “And your sister here, Makeda? She’s the real Orc leader! She’s only in chains because you and your Violovar betrayed her and everyone else in this city!”
A murmur went through the crowd, and was quickly silenced with a look from Malik Blackfin.
“Are you quite finished, boy?” he asked of Owens, then.
“Nah, man,” said Owens. “I got loads to say.”
“Good,” said Malik. “For your time will come. As will justice for the claims against my sister and your father too. Perhaps that justice will fall even sooner for all of you, if you dare to interrupt me again, boy. In truth, if it were left to my decision, justice would fall to each of you this very day. For as I look upon the faces here, I know most for oath-breakers. All pathetic souls who swore to leave the Salt and never return. That each of you still lives comes only from the king’s mercy.” He glared at Owens. “But this is still a royal trial. Whether innocent or guilty to the charged crimes, any who think to speak out of line again will pay the consequences for disruption.”
Just shut up, Owens. Sydney thought, her gaze pleading with him.
Another spoke up for all those quieted by the Blackfin’s threat.
Her haggard voice came from one of the other prisoner cages, but her tongue was sharp as ever. “Disruption . . .” Ms. Morgan steadied herself against the bars, then pointed a bony finger in the Blackfin’s direction. “That’s a funny word from the likes of you, boy.”
All hint of former amusement dropped from the face of Malik Blackfin then, his lip curling at the slight.
Sydney heard her mother speak for the first time too, Nattie Gao calling out to the Tiber High School vice principal. “Morgan . . .” the queen’s voice cracked. “Don’t. Please.”
“Aye.” Malik glared at the elderly prisoner. “Listen to your queen, hag. Perhaps whatever vision remains to you in that poor excuse for an eye clouds your judgement, but I will not tolerate—”
“No, you’ll not tolerate much, will you?” Ms. Morgan asked, barking a laugh. “You’re the Blackfin - feared by all throughout the five oceans and beyond.” She waved a shackled hand as if warding off a passing butterfly. “Aye, or so most of those here tell me.”
Malik snorted. “You would be wise to heed them, hag.”
“Might be I should.” Ms. Morgan looked on him squarely, just as Sydney had seen her do to thousands of students before him. “But I’ve been ashore too long now to care for fanciful Salt stories of little bullies like you.”
Malik Blackfin laughed at that, long and loud. He marched over to the cage that his shadow might envelope the smaller prisoner. “You call me little?”
“I did,” Ms. Morgan answered, staring up at him. “And it was you who mistook me, boy, if you thought by throwing me in these cages that I would be the one to keep my silence in such matters and lies as these.” She grunted. “So, perhaps it’s you that’s blind, Blackfin. Either that, or else you’ve not got the brains to recognize a simple truth when it’s staring you straight in the eyes.”
Malik clucked his tongue. “Admittedly, it’s difficult for me to tell where you are looking, crone.” He chuckled to himself before g
lancing away. “Solomon . . .”
“Aye, m’lord?”
“Bring her out,” he ordered. “It seems this . . . Merrow hag . . . is more than eager to testify.”
No. Sydney thought when Solomon quickly obeyed, waving forth an Orc to bring him keys to unlock the cage.
Again, Nattie Gao called out from her position. “Malik, please. She’s old and doesn’t know what she says.”
Ms. Morgan scoffed. “Many thanks, my queen,” she said as Solomon laid hands on her. “But I know well and good what I’m on about. Same as what these here are on about too. What this sham of a trial really is and means for you and our people.” Ms. Morgan jerked her chin toward the silent crowds. “High time the rest of these watching come to understand what’ll be their fates too, if they keep to such silence.”
Sydney’s pulse quickened as Solomon brought Ms. Morgan out and stood her before his leader.
Malik Blackfin looked upon her like an inquisitive dog determining whether something was food or a toy. “And what are you on about, hag? What is this truth you desire to speak?”
“Same as you claim to share,” said Ms. Morgan, her voice strengthening that all might hear her scorn of him. “But I want the real truth known to all.”
The Blackfin laughed. “Truth is a hard thing to discern, it seems,” he said. “Tell me, then. What is this one of yours?”
Ms. Morgan cackled, then, the first time Sydney had ever heard such a noise from her. “Don’t cast your pearls before Orcish swine is one,” she said to Malik. “And I hear you’re much like your father when it comes to looking on the world and those less fortunate than you, boy. I suppose it fitting that an Orc like you would rather see such things as only black and white. Ah, but I’ve been a Merrow all these long years, sonny,” her good eye flashed. “And I know the truth of people and both our worlds, above and below, well . . . they’re all more shades of gray than not.”
“A Merrow would believe that,” said Malik. “But when it comes to a queen’s crimes against the crown, hag, I’m afraid there is no in between. Either you are sided with the king, or you are against him.”
Salt Storm: The Salted Series: Episodes #31-35 Page 22