Page 21 of Horn in My Side
MAL
Mal pushed away from the desk and the monitor, and began to massage his temple with his thumb and fore claw.He’d just finished looking at the accounts and ...things weren’t looking great.
Just like the house, the computer unlocked for him since it recognized him as the new owner of Fantastic Tails.The first thing he did was examine the books.It wasn’t terrible, but the shop barely made any money.Vrig didn’t take any salary or withdraw any profit.He didn’t need to as his mortgage on the house was paid off and his pension was more than enough to live on.Jasmine’s salary was pitiful, and perhaps the only reason she could live off it was the below-average rent Vrig charged her for the studio over his garage.
Why she even wanted this place, he didn’t know.
She loved the shop and the animals, that was for sure.It was evident from how she cared for the various creatures and gave each one special attention.She barely had to look at her clipboards as she explained what they required.There was something about the way she spoke and moved that had him mesmerized.The animals, too, were naturally drawn to her, even calmed by her presence.
Yes, she seemed born to run this shop.It just didn’t make any sense from a business standpointwhyshe would want to.It would struggle if it continued like this, and she would be forced to cut corners or obtain more loans or even take a lower salary.And if things didn’t improve, then she might be forced to shut down the entire thing.
I could still sell everything.
Get in, get it done, get out.
It might even be the best thing for Jasmine, to mitigate her losses.Legally, there would be nothing she could do about it if he sold the lot tomorrow.She had no idea how orc law worked, and technically they weren’t subject to it since they were outside the homelands.
However, Vrig would be disappointed, and so would his father, not to mention his mother, stepfather, and basically all of orc society would shun him if he went back on his word now.He himself couldn’t stomach the idea of breaking a promise.So he would have to stick to their agreement.
In any case, whether he sold the shop to Jasmine or to another company in six months, he’d still come out on top.But somehow, the thought of leaving her on her own to pilot what was essentially a sinking ship didn’t sit quite right with him.
Not like I could do anything about it.
At this point, the barest minimum he could do was keep his word, occasionally helping out as she’d said.He could also stop charging her for the apartment, but she would probably shoot down that idea.Jasmine didn’t seem the type to accept charity, even in the form of free rent.There was nothing else he could do, and he wasn’t about to invest in the shop himself.
Of course, he could make things easier for her.
A few upgrades here and there wouldn’t hurt.
He could do some of the work himself, plus use his contacts in the industry for materials.He’d done a job for a finfolk family and met the architect who constructed their home—a huge aquarium mansion half sunken into the sea—who could probably get him a discount on some high-quality water filters that wouldn’t need to be replaced so often.Taking his phone out of his pocket, he typed a quick message to the contact on his phone that he had saved as “Bob Hallow Architect.”
The locking spells on the pens upstairs also needed refreshing or even an upgrade.Vrig was a master builder and spell-caster, but probably hadn’t kept up with the latest developments in the craft.Mal knew of some newer incantations that would help improve the security of each pen.
Rising from the chair, he made his way out of the back office, making a mental list of the things he could do.With everything that had happened in the last couple of days—finding out about Vrig’s death, coming here, sorting out the legal stuff—it was actually a relief to have something to do.Building was in his blood and soul, and he truly was happiest when he was busy.
There was no sign of Jasmine, though he could hear her shuffling about upstairs, probably “correcting” any other mistakes he’d made.He hadn’t meant to mess things up, but he’d been bored waiting for her to come in this morning, so decided to start feeding the aquatic animals, not knowing she already had a system in place.
Looking at the rows of pens and cages, he rolled up his sleeves.He’d leave mealtimes to her, but this—spell-crafting and building—was his specialty.Starting with the first row, he ran his hands over each cage.They all had the same kind of old-fashioned locking spell, something an old-timer like Vrig would have used.It was effective, but over time it needed to be refreshed every six months.He would also have had to weave in anaddendum spell to give Jasmine access, likely using a drop of her blood or a lock of her hair to activate it.
Mal had recently begun using a newer spell, one he learned at a week-long spellbinding seminar last year.His clients had all been pleased with the more advanced magic, as it only required refreshing after a couple of years and it was transferrable, which reduced the need for Mal to travel back to their location.The owner, if they were magically inclined, could also take possession of the lock or have a local trusted warlock or even a sorcerer refresh it for them.That might have been bad business for Mal, since he couldn’t charge a maintenance fee, but spell-casting had never been his favorite part of the job anyway.
He stood in front of the very first pen—one that contained a cerberus pup snoozing in the back—and wrapped his hand over the latch.He whispered the words, allowing the magic to flow from his soul to his fingers.Orcs were not powerful magic wielders like witches and wizards, but his ancestors were able to harness what magical affinity they did have toward their strengths, like warfare, hunting, farming, or in his case, building.
As the magic began to settle, he murmured Jasmine’s name, conjuring up an image of her in his head.That’s all he needed to ensure she could open the pen without any trouble.Carefully, he twisted the latch, opening the door a crack to test it, then closed it again.
Satisfied with his work, he moved to the next pen, or rather, a cage.There were three or four flying creatures in it, but he couldn’t quite recognize what they were.
Shrugging, he placed his hand over the latch and began to recite the spell, repeating what he’d done with the cerberus pen.As he said Jasmine’s name, he once again thought of her, though this time, his mind wandered to the first time they’d met, when she’d fallen into his arms.How soft her body was against his, and her big brown eyes—
A low vibration from his pocket interrupted his thoughts.Quickly, he fished his phone out.The callerIDon the screen read “Bob Hallow Architect.”
“Hey, Bob,” he greeted.
“Mal, it’s been a while.How are ya, mate?”
“Doing good.Yeah, it has been a long time.How are the kids?”He recalled Bob liked small talk, so even though Mal wasn’t a fan of idle chit-chat, he understood that it was part of doing business.
“Growing like weeds.The little one, Maureen, is just about ready to start walking.Tristan’s almost as tall as me, and he’s only fourteen.Wife complains he’s eating us out of house and home.And Katy, she’s a firecracker, that one.Came in second in her last karate tournament in Canberra—”
