Audrey pouted again, but he wasn’t paying attention to her anymore. He’d already turned back to his work, dismissing her.
She finished eating and packed up the basket slowly, taking her time. As she looked around, she noticed there were three doors. Two stood slightly ajar – one leading to what looked like a small bathroom, the other to a bedroom with a narrow bed and a single window. The third door was closed. The heavy lock on it drew her attention.
Morgath noticed her staring.
“What are you doing? I asked you to leave.”
“What’s in there?”
“It’s a storage room.”
“Can I see?”
“No. It’s not your business, and it’s locked. So don’t even try.”
Well. If he kept it locked, it was definitely her business.
She needed to know what was in that room. But for now, she just shrugged and headed for the door.
“See you later, I guess.”
He turned his back to her without responding, already focused on mixing something in a glass vial.
Audrey stepped outside and pulled the door shut behind her, then started back down the path toward town.
As she walked, her mind catalogued everything she’d seen. The jars and vials, all marked in orc language, which she’d never bothered to learn. The locked storage room that clearly held something important. The layout of the hut and the position of the windows.
When she finally identified the killer, she’d need a way to eliminate him. There were two options: a dagger infused with orc magic, which she’d have to steal, or poison, plain and simple. The problem was that all of Morgath’s vials were labeled in orc script. But if she could sneak into the hut when he wasn’t there and take pictures with her phone, she could send them to the Tusk Hunters. They had access to the internet and could translate.
She also needed to figure out a way to get into that locked room. There had to be a key somewhere, probably on Morgath’s person or hidden in the hut. Finding it would take time and planning, but it was possible.
For now, this was the best plan she could come up with.
Audrey felt a surge of energy. She had concrete steps to follow now, actions she could take instead of just watching and waiting.
Chapter Eleven
For the next few days, Audrey had nothing to do but fall into the routine she had created for herself.
She spent her mornings and afternoons in the diner’s kitchen with Maika, Zulka, and Dorsha, watching them cook and listening to their stories. Varka the Keen came in often to help and bring vegetables from the communal garden. It also turned out she was the best at baking bread.
The female orcs were not offended at all when Audrey called them girls. They happily adopted the name, which amused Audrey greatly.
Brumis the Bold never came into the kitchen at all, spending all her time training. The girls said she was a warrior through and through, and a complete disaster in the kitchen.
Audrey sometimes walked around town and talked to the other orcs, who had gotten used to her presence by now. Some nodded at her when she passed, and a few even stopped to make small talk.
This was how she found out that the weapons the orcs made at the smithy were not yet infused with magic. They took them to the captain afterward, and he chanted over them to fill them with power. She realized that if she wanted to steal a dagger, she’d have to find it in Morgath’s hut or figure out where the orcs kept them when they were ready. She didn’t want to ask about that outright for fear of raising suspicion, so she filed the information away and kept her questions casual.
She tried to bring lunch to Morgath a second time, hoping to get another look at his workshop, but he took the basket from her at the door, and kicked her out before she could even step inside. His tone was sharp and annoyed, like he was reaching the end of his patience with her attempts to invade his space.
At night, he always locked her bedroom door, and Audrey was forced to listen to him as he found release in the next room. She touched herself, telling herself it meant nothing. They were two adults who had needs but couldn’t use each other.
It was only normal and healthy to release tension after long days of pretending and driving herself up the walls. She only thought about him because it was convenient, and he was just there, his deep groans filtering through the wall and making her body respond with or without her permission.
She grew more and more convinced that he wasn’t thinking about her at all when he stroked himself. The thought left a strange, hollow feeling in her chest that she refused to examine.
At dinner, he stopped pulling her into his lap. She had her own seat next to him now. He also stopped feeding her, letting her serve herself like everyone else.
