Chapter 1 That’s My Orc, Tusk Off #2
I asked a clarifying question about intake call protocols, and he explained again slower. He wasn’t being dismissive at all, just careful.
“This is the intake form,” he said, pulling up a sample on the screen and pointing to the pile of forms underneath the rock.
The computer version was color-coded. It had drop-down menus and conditional fields that changed depending on what the person selected in the prior field. And a decision tree that branched into subcategories I’d need a glossary to navigate.
“This is really thorough,” I said.
“It needs to be.”
“Do people actually fill out all of this when they submit inquiries online?”
“They should.”
I tilted my head. “But do they?”
“No.” The admission seemed to cost him something. “They don’t.”
“Okay. So maybe we start there.”
He made a note on his tablet. His hands were large enough to make the tablet look like an e-reader. He held it carefully, though.
I hadn’t meant to watch that closely.
I got the sense that the tablet wasn’t just a tool. It was how he processed things.
We went through his manual all morning, stopping when the front door banged open and another orc barreled in, carrying a crate.
“Got him,” he shouted. “Told you all I’d get him.” He spotted me and came to a halt, his face lighting up. “You’re the new human named Willa Enford. Brovish said you were starting today. Another human will we working with us soon. She has a van.”
Was that her only distinguishing characteristic?
“Vans are nice,” I said.
“They are.” Drogar set the crate on the counter in front of me, leaning on the desk with both hands beside it.
“Where are you from?” he asked. “Do you like creatures? Have you ever seen a grumbletoad?”
I laughed. “Maine, yes, and I’m about to?”
“Drogar,” Traig said. “She’s orienting.”
Drogar waved this off with a flick of his hand. “She can orient and meet Fred.”
He opened the crate enough for me to peer inside.
A low, grumbling sound emerged.
“Amazing,” I breathed, studying the round creature with black-and-white short fur, spotted like a tiny cow, and tiny wings folded against its sides.
“Does it always scowl like that?” I asked.
“They do,” the orc said, stiffening his spine. “I’m Drogar.”
“Willa, as you know. The creature is adorable.”
“He’s also loud when he likes you,” Drogar said.
The grumbling intensified.
“See?” Drogar said. “You’re fitting in well already.”
Traig watched me with an expression I couldn’t read, though it vaguely matched the look on the grumbletoad’s face.
I chose not to mention that, however.
Yet another orc strode out of the hallway on my left, holding a binder so thick it could double as a weapon.
“Willa?” he said, stopping beside Drogar. “I’m Krem. I do community outreach and handle our social media. I prepared an orientation binder in case you needed one.”
He held it up. Three inches thick with colorful tabs. These orcs sure loved big books and tabs.
“Traig made one,” I said. “A digital version.”
Krem’s gaze fell on Traig. “Is it thorough?”
“Very.”
“How many pages?”
“Krem.”
Krem nodded and left, taking the binder with him.
This had to be orc central, because another orc strolled through the entryway, though he didn’t stop. He made eye contact with me and nodded once before strolling down the other hallway.
“That’s Greth,” Traig said. “He doesn’t talk much.”
I wondered if the nod meant approval, acknowledgment, or something else.
Drogar lifted the crate and carried it down the hall, leaving us to continue with my orientation.
We’d just started on another page in his document when the phone rang.
“Can I?” I asked, reaching for the handset.
Traig nodded.
I picked it up and projected a warm, clear voice. “Creature Rescue League, this is Willa.”
The woman on the other end sounded lost. Ten minutes later I’d logged her inquiry, answered six questions, and scheduled a follow-up. When I hung up, Traig was staring at his tablet with what looked like relief. He tapped into a screen without looking up.
I’d passed a small test. I was sure of it.
“I’m going to need to use this,” I said, gesturing to the file cabinet. “So I want to make sure I’m reading it right.”
He walked me through everything. My face must have shown my thoughts about the unconventional system.
“You’ll learn it,” he said.
“Or I’ll just ask you every time?”
The corner of his mouth twitched into an almost smile that was gone before I could be sure. “That works too.”
A blur of yellow and pink streaked through the entryway.
I gaped at is scampering down the hall. “What is that?”
“That’s Nix,” Traig said, without looking up.
“A nix?”
“No, his name is Nix. He’s a fizzling. He’ll be back.”
A few minutes later, Nix zipped back through.
Traig stood, set his tablet down, and strode after it. He returned a short time later holding the striped, ferret-sized creature that started glowing the moment he saw me.
A static shock jumped from Nix to my arm.
My hair stood up.
“Sorry,” Traig said, stroking the fizzling.
“Does this happen a lot?”
“Yes.”
He stepped out the back door with Nix, returning without the creature, and picked up his tablet, continuing where he’d left off.
Brovish reappeared around noon, stopping by the desk. “Willa, do you want to join us for lunch?”
“Um…” I glanced at Traig.
“We should probably finish this section of the orientation first,” Traig said.
Brovish gave him a look that either made Traig squirm or there were microscopic orc creatures I hadn’t met yet and he was sitting on one.
“Of course we’ll need to eat,” Traig said, the words dragged out of him.
I followed Traig and Brovish down the hallway toward the break room, the delicious smell hitting me before we reached the door. Inside, I took in a long table built for orcs, windows looking out over the eastern pasture, and a kitchen area where Drogar stood at the stove.
“Sit,” Brovish said, gesturing to the table.
I pulled out a chair sized for someone twice my height and climbed into it.
Krem was already there, a clipboard face-down beside his plate. Greth sat at the far end, quiet, his folded hands lying on the table. A woman I didn’t recognize sat beside Brovish’s empty seat, small and human and smiling at me with the warmth.
“You’re Willa,” she said. “I’m Laina. Facility vet and Brovish’s mate.”
Mate.
Right.
I’d read that in the information booklet Brovish had emailed me last week. Orcs didn’t say girlfriend or wife. They said mate.
“Nice to meet you,” I said.
“Likewise.” Laina leaned forward. “How’s your first day going?”
“I’ve met Fred the grumbletoad and learned that the filing system here is actually intentional.”
Laina laughed. “A lot of things here are. You can credit Traig for the filing system.”
Traig had taken a seat across from me, his tablet on the table beside his plate.
“I’m efficient,” he said.
“And creative,” I said.
Krem snorted.
Drogar turned from the stove, carrying a large ceramic dish. He set it in the center of the table with a flourish.
“Kelthara,” he announced.
The dish had been layered with thin slices of something pale gold and translucent, alternating with a dark filling that looked dense and savory. The top had crisped in places, caramelized at the edges, and the whole thing smelled like roasted nuts and herbs.
Drogar set down a second platter holding thick slices of dark seeded bread, each piece scored across the top in a crisscross pattern.
“Vrindal,” he said. “I toasted the seeds first this time rather than try to toast them after.”
“With a blow torch,” Laina said. “He set off the smoke detector with that one.”
“How was I supposed to know the building could shriek?” Drogar asked. His lips curled down. “Brovish took away my blow torch.”
“As I should.” Brovish rubbed his hands together. “This looks fantastic.”
“I experimented,” Drogar said, sitting down to Traig’s right. “The kelthara has shredded vrellfruit this time instead of sliced. I think it’ll add more texture.”
I had no idea what vrellfruit was but it didn’t matter. I was about to eat an orcish dish for the first time in my life, and I couldn’t wait.
Drogar scooped a portion onto his plate and passed the dish around. Laina handed me a piece of the vrindal, and I held it for a second, testing the denseness and weight. Heavy but with some give. This bread that could double as a weapon if things went sideways.
I took a bite, savoring the nutty, faintly sweet taste.
“This is delicious,” I said.