“That is fucked up,” I agree. “We revere our aged, and support the less abled among us as a priority.”
“So how does the system work here?”
“Old and unwell folks stay within the family wherever possible, but because my siblings couldn’t handle the situation, and I couldn’t be sheriffandcare for Mom, I found her the best residential home in the Labyrinth, but she needs…” I gulp. “What she needs, she can’t have. She needs our dad back. Orcs, erm, mate for life, and are super loyal, you know. Once they have committed, they never look at another…”
I find my cheeks burning as I park the jeep in the small parking lot. “Anyway, uh, we’re here. Let’s go inside, shall we?” I say, and hop out of the jeep before I can dig myself even deeper into that hole.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CLEM.
A friendly-faced staff member with a long snout, spiky whiskers and grey fur covered in blue spots greets us at the door. I have no idea what monster species they are, and it would probably be rude to ask.
“Otis,” they exclaim with a grin, then cock their head in my direction, bright orange eyes curious. “And…?”
“Hi, I’m Clem.”
The creature’s cheeks bunch, its eyes widen, and bristly whiskers vibrate at the sides of their mouth. Their gaze drops to my neck and I know what they’re thinking. That I’m here of my own free-will.
“Clem is my assistant. She’s also Jax’s sister. Clem, this is Moe, they are the head carer here.”
“Ah, yes. Welcome, Clem.”
“Good to meet you, Moe.”
I seem to be accepted, judging from the beaming smile on the creature’s face.
“Clem helped me make a cake for Mom… and offered to join me,” Otis rumbles, and I open the container. “Fairy sponge with cream and fresh berries from the market.”
“Wow! You will be popular!” Moe says. “Give it to me and I’ll plate it up and bring it out to you. Your mom is in the garden, Otis.”
“Thanks Moe,” Otis says, and we make our way down corridors with rooms on either side. It’s not unlike Otis’s house, but on a larger scale. I guess there are only so many ways you can configure a cave dwelling. Clearly, everyone knows Otis well here, as the staff we pass all greet him with big smiles.
Finally, we enter a spacious, brightly lit room with chairs and tables, and soft armchairs and sofas; a communal area. A couple of monsters look up. One is doing needlecraft, and the other is immersed in a crossword. A couple of other monsters are snoozing— and snoring quite loudly.
Otis leads me through double French doors at the end of the room, and out into a garden that is almost as bright as the daylight back in Sparkle. It feels like warm afternoon sunshine is shining on us from the many soft lumen lights strung overhead. Flowers bloom, huge pink and yellow blossoms, and soft, feathery ferns nestle into the rock walls. Water trickles down the rocks into a large pond full of lily pads.
Dotted around the garden sit more monsters. Some appear very old, by the look of their wrinkled skin; others are clearly disabled in some way. One lizard creature has lost its back leg and sports a finely crafted stump. A small dragon has lost one wing.
But they all seem content as they smile at our arrival.
“There she is,” Otis says, and he bounds over to an orc female sitting by the edge of the pool, staring at the waterfall. She is big-boned, and very thin, her green flesh hanging limply from her large frame. She wears a patterned dress that has probably seen better days, and her dark green hair, streaked with gray, is tied in a bun on top of her head.
“Mom, it’s Otis.”
She looks up then, her eyes the same deep red as Otis’s, and it strikes me how alike they are. Their wide bone structure, their full mouth and strong jaw. Sally’s face is still beautiful, but gaunt now, and the sadness in her expression pierces my heart.
“Ah, eldest son of mine, there you are,” she sighs softly.
I realize she’s holding a photo, tattered and faded. I can’t see the image, but I sense it is cherished.
Otis crouches down beside her. “Mom, this is Clem.”
Slowly, she turns her head and looks at me. “Human,” she murmurs. “Pretty human.” Her lips shape a smile. “Is she your mate, Otis?”
Otis stutters and coughs.
“Um, no, she’s helping me with my work.”
