We orcs tend to punch each other’s arms in greeting. We probably hug less than we should.
There you go again man, thinking about hugs. Going soft in the head.
Maybe that was our problem, we were all too busy maintaining our fierce façade as the family of Sheriff Bradley Cane. Big tough orcs protecting the monsters of the Labyrinth.
Until it all fell apart when Dad died. We weren’t good at taking care of each other when the shit hit the fan.
“Finally, you get to meet Arlo,” Sammy says. Her mate stands next to Jax, grinning his minotaur horns off, his nose ring glinting in the light.
Arlo steps forward and gives Clem a hug. He’s so big, he lifts her completely off the ground.
“Oh, my!” Clem says. “Strong.”
When he puts her down, she beams up at him, and I realize with a stab of envy that I want her to smile like that at me. Often.
“It’s so lovely to meet you finally, Arlo, knowing how much Sammy loves you,” Clem says.
“Likewise. Sammy’s been pining for you so bad, I almost got jealous.” Arlo grins.
“I can’t believe you’re here. It’s only been a week or so since Jax raised the possibility,” Sammy adds excitedly.
“The human authorities have been shadowing Clem,” Jax explains. “I decided not to wait any longer.”
“I’m so glad you didn’t.” Sammy puts an arm round Clem and hugs her all over again. “I’ve missed you so much, Clem.”
“I missed you too.”
“I’ve got so much to tell you,” Sammy says. “But for now, here’s a dress to wear.” She hands over a parcel. “Jax said you’d had no time to grab clothes before he portaled you down here. That cape sure bounces you around, doesn’t it?”
The two girls disappear into the spare room, chatting away, leaving me, Jax and Arlo together.
“Come in,” I mutter to Jax and Arlo. “Want a drink?”
“Yeah, why not.” Arlo bounds after me, hooves clattering, and Jax’s metal-heeled boots follow on the flagstone floor.
Back in my office, I go to the cabinet and grab the bottle of grappa I keep there. It’s our local liqueur, made from a green bean that grows in the market gardens on the south side of level one.
It tastes like shit, to be honest. But we’re used to it.
Jax sprawls into a chair. “Sorry about stealing the cape from the Vault. But I had to get there fast once I realized that guy was closing in on Clem.”
“You could have alerted me,” I grumble.
Arlo snorts. “Yeah, sure. You’d have given him the green light to use the portal cape, would you?”
“If I knew it was urgent, yes.”
“It was urgent when I rescued Sammy, but you still gave me shit for it,” Arlo grumbles. He’s referring to his recent trip to rescue his mate after the humans held her captive up in Sparkle.
“You know I don’t act rashly,” Jax says.
“True,” I concede. “It’s just, that cape is priceless.” I pour three shots of the grappa. “We only have a small amount of ancient magic, we don’t want it falling into the humans’ hands.”
“No-one saw me,” Jax insists.
“Talking of magic,” Arlo says as I hand the guys each a glass of bright green liqueur. “How’s work going on the compoooters?” He stares at the chaos of screens and keyboards on my desk and scratches his horn. No-one here really understands what I’m trying to achieve. Since I found these computers a few years back, hundreds of them piled up in the Vault, I’ve been working on a system that will enable us to spy on the humans, find out what evil forces they’re using to keep us imprisoned. It’s almost a full-time job in itself. Add my sheriff duties and I don’t have time to scratch myself.
The irony is, there was no way I ever intended to be sheriff of the Labyrinth. I was working on my PhD in mathematics in the underground city of Gekarin, hundreds of miles east of this part of the Labyrinth. And then Dad got killed, and the community requested I return. Because that’s how things are here in the Labyrinth: you take on the role of your father.
