Page 20 of Mountain Orc Daddy

“You are very sweet,” Blair answers me. “Next trip you can treat me, and I will treat you. This trip I want you to see this marketplace, how welcoming the world is. We also have a couple other stops.”

Blair squeezes my hand again and pulls me away and towards a large and tall building made of brown-red rock.

“That old brownstone up ahead,” Blair tells me. “My favorite bookstore. I have to show it to you.”

As Blair is telling me this, we pass a tall man dressed in dark garb. He is gaunt and white as February snow. I watch him blow fire out of his mouth and through a colored hoop. Children and parents applaud and toss coins into a large hat at the tall man’s feet.

There are people and children and beings of every size, color, and demeanor who walk close, rub against us, smile at us, bounce into us. Off to our left a crone of a woman juggles balls of light for an audience of several children and three or four angry looking felines.

“I think a break from sensory overload is exactly what is needed right now,” Blair tells me. She then tugs me to the right and into the brown structure she had earlier called a “bookstore.”

We enter the red-brown rock building. Inside it is dead quiet. Many walls and tables and shelves and levels are covered in tomes, like papyrus tomes but not papyrus.

There is a short woman of mixed race standing close to us and reading through a tome. Each time she flips to a new page her hair changes color.

“What are these tomes?” I ask Blair. She pauses pulling me along for a moment, turns to face me with her Venusian green eyes, and takes a deep breath before answering. “This is my favorite spot to get away, Azul. These tomes are books, compilations of information. This is how teachings are passed down or shared.”

“Fascinating. In the orc tradition, we pass traditions from mouth to ear. From a Chieftain’s mouth to a bloodsworn’s ear.”

We leave the bookstore and cross the narrow paths of a less crowded section of the park on the edge of the marketplace. The volume of beings is far less, and Blair is able to share more about chariots like the Ford, lights, technology, and the impact technology has had on society. We stop several times along the way to talk, listen, and soak up the luscious connection we share.

“This next place I want to show you is a café,” Blair tells me. “That’s it right there,” she adds, pointing to a cozy looking cottage-style structure across the street from where we are standing. The food is so good.”

“I am ready to eat a bear,” I tell her. The truth is, I could eat an ogre, even one of the bigger ogres from up north. I want to pick Blair up and hold her. She has been so gracious and kind and genuinely showing me the best that she can come up with.

I want to hold her, caress her, and never let go. I’m not sure what to make of this possessive need that has claimed me.

“We’ll sit outside,” Blair tells me. We pick out a table. A servant arrives and Blair orders many things for us. I keep trying to pay doubloons and gold, and Blair keeps motioning with her hand for me to put my gold away.

“I am overloaded with things to share with the tribe, you know,” I tell Blair. We are eating and watching many creatures walk by, nary a glance they give to us.

“This is the best kind of people watching,” Blair says.

We finish eating and head off in the direction of the setting sun. We traverse a maze of creatures, chariots like the Ford, buildings both short and towering, and many dwellings.

“You are a superb guide,” I tell her. “You have done an exemplary job filling this day with material for me to report to the Broken Maws tribe. I am grateful.”

We reach a bridge that overlooks the city skyline. The sun has set the horizon on fire with orange and red pillars and plumes of color. I want more days like this. Days with Blair at my side.

I find my mind wandering about the night, about staying the whole night through at what Blair calls her “townhouse” on the outskirts of the city.

Blair’s dainty frame is warm and pressed against mine. I lean down and kiss her. Her lips and touch and taste are spring warmth to winter, creeks that sing to rivers, and rivers that mingle with the oceans.

13

BLAIR

Six.

It’s been six days since I first met Uzul. Somehow, I both can’t believe it’s already been six days and am shocked it’s only been that long. It’s all been a real whirlwind.

To think I was dreading going camping with my family. I was so close to calling my mother and saying I was too sick to go. The entire drive up I was kicking myself for not doing exactly that.

Imagine all that I would’ve missed out on if I had. I’d never met Uzul. These past few days would be spent sitting around my townhouse, alone, completely unaware of what I lost.

“Yeah, I made the right choice.” I look down at a sleeping Uzul.

I’ll never forget the feeling of catching his eyes on me back at the encampment, when he first approached us. He almost didn’t notice me at first, I was standing in the back after all. But once he did notice me, I hardly ever saw himnotlooking at me.

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