Page 63 of My Orc Has Big Tusks
I poked my finger between the bars of the crate, and the first one shocked me twice before I worked out a grounding technique. The second shocked Krem, who burst into laughter.
“Let’s take them out of the crate so I can examine them,” I said.
Drogar released the latch and tugged them out, placing them on a clear space on the table. Two sat placidly where he’d put them, but the third ran up his arm and behind the hair at his nape, where it sat, shooting sparks.
“She has chosen me,” Drogar said, his chin lifting.
“She’s discharging static into your hair,” Traig said with the dry voice I’d come to appreciate. Traig could be counted on for a subtle joke and a steady presence at any time of the day. “If you’re not careful, she’ll set you on fire.”
“She haschosenme,” Drogar said again. “She will not set me on fire.”
I reached out to examine one of the fizzlings, and it shocked me, making my teeth crunch together. It was more like grabbing a doorknob in winter than sticking a fork in a light socket—something I hadn’t done but had read about. A jolt that ran up my arm and made me step back. The fizzling watched me with bright, completely unrepentant eyes.
The driftwhisps lifted off my head and circled around, giving me a sparkling halo, before resettling in their original place.
“Their static discharge is worse when they’re stressed,” Brovish said from behind me. He handed me some rubber gloves.
We’d developed a rhythm over the past weeks. He anticipated what I needed and positioned himself where I’d havethe best angle, moving back when I needed space. But today that rhythm felt different. Heavier.
I kept thinking about my mother walking through the front door of the rescue. How she’d look around with a slight sneer on her face. Standing where Brovish stood now, watching me examine creatures she’d dismiss as “those things from underground.” She’d ask pointed questions about my future while implying she knew better.
What have you gotten yourself into?
The third fizzling discharged into my gloved hand, and I barely felt it.
“Your expression changed,” Brovish said. He’d moved closer without me noticing. “Are you thinking about your mother’s visit?”
“Among other things.”
“Such as?”
I looked up at him. “Such as what I’m going to say when she asks why I gave up a successful clinic to work at a creature rescue facility in the middle of the woods.”
“You’ll tell her the truth.”
“Which is?”
“That you chose the place where you could grow instead of the place you’d grown beyond. That creatures need you here. That?—”
“That what?”
His jaw worked. “That perhaps other things need you here as well.”
The fizzling in my hands sparked, and I set it down carefully on the table before I dropped it. “Brovish?—”
Krem, Traig, and Drogar watched us, their mouths ajar.
“I’m not asking you to explain me to your mother.” His voice had gone formal, the way it did when he was trying very hard to find the right words. “I understand families are complex.Especially human families. But I want you to know that what we’ve begun, whatever this is, it matters to me. Whether your mother approves or not.”
Drogar cleared his throat.
“The mirrormoose,” he said, gentler than usual. “Once we’ve finished here, Greth has her ready in a pen outside.”
I nodded, not trusting my voice.
I finished my examination and put the fizzlings back inside their crate. We’d have their fireproof enclosure ready before the day was over and they could run free. They were healthy for now.
Brovish held the door, and I walked past him into the afternoon light, feeling his presence behind me like heat.
