Page 4 of Ryld's Shadows
“Good night, Ryld.”
“It is morning, though,” Ryld had to add before he went down the hall to his room.
* * * *
Hank couldn’t remember getting through his apartment door the previous evening. Goddesses, that had been stupid. Wasting money onterabinthat he was going to need for food. The evil stuff never made anyone feelbetterin any way, and he’d woken up on his living room floor with the headache to prove it.
Really stupid.
The shower helped a little. Forcing himself to eat his last piece of gouda on toast helped more. Starting the day with calcium-deficiency cramps would’ve been, as the humans here said, the icing on the cake.
He sat at his two-person kitchen table with his head in his hands, breathing slowly so he wouldn’t start to cry. Wouldn’t do anything but make his headache worse again. Still, it was all so frustrating. He’d been doing so well, getting good job reviews and even thinking about putting some money away each week.
If he’d known this would happen, he would’ve started saving months ago. If he’d had any warning, he could’ve stocked up on cheese and yogurt and bones. Now, he’d have to stop by AURA social services and go through the humiliation of getting government-funded Tums to keep functioning until he could afford good food again.
Of all the things Mum gave me, goblin calcium requirements was the thing that was least helpful after crossing over.
One last slow breath, and he managed to gather himself together enough to get dressed. Important to get there early or all the temp jobs would be gone. He reached for the dress shirts automatically, then stopped himself with a sigh. No one was going to hire a half-goblin, sight unseen, for an office job. More likely, it would be manual labor.Henley, sturdy khakis and boots it is, then.
Keys, wallet, sunglasses—since his eyes weren’t up to dealing with the morning sun—and thetekstone from Mum on its leather thong around his neck for luck, he strode from his apartment, determined to make the best use of the day. Wallowing got you nowhere. A goblin did what a goblin had to do.
Some of his determination trickled away when he reached the AURA building and spotted the long line at placement. Nothing he could do about it though, so he took his place at the end of the queue behind a purple-haired sylph who gave him what she probably thought was a Very Forbidding Look.
“Just here for a job, ma’am,” Hank murmured while his gaze wandered around the lobby. “Not for conversation or to bother pretty women.”
She narrowed her eyes at him but turned back around and ignored him in favor of typing on her phone. Probably would get an office job right away. Maybe even reception in one of the departments in the AURA building. Wasn’t there an elvish prince serving as the police captain now? They liked pretty things. Did police departments have receptionists?
Hank let his thoughts drift from tidbit to tidbit to keep himself from really thinking as the line moved slowly forward. Plenty of people got in line behind him as he waited, so at least he hadn’t been the last to arrive and he was inside an air-conditioned building, out of the sun. There were positive notes to the day already.
Any happy thoughts he’d gathered died when he reached the front of the line.
“Name?” the pixie girl behind the front desk chirped.
“Hank Onyx-Wainwright.” He signed in without being told. It had been a while, but he’d done this before. “Could I see Miss Ono?”
“Oh sweetie, sorry.” The pixie batted absurdly long lashes at him. “Miss Ono retired last month. Mr. Oakfrond’s free. You can go see him. Third door on the right.”
Hank swallowed a sigh and headed down the hall to the offices. The kitsune job counselor, Miss Ono, had been his favorite. She’d believed in him and had helped him with the right classes and test prep to pass the CPA exam. She’d never pre-judged where his skills would lie. This new counselor, as Hank feared from the name, was an elf.
Not that he had anything against elves. Problem was, they so often had something against him. No, that wasn’t fair either. Most drow and kolle had no problem with him, more or less, it was the aelfe who looked at him like something they needed to scrape off their shoes. There were a lot of aelfe in New York. When Hank turned the corner into the indicated office, he bit back another sigh. Of course Mr. Oakfrond was aelfe.
Oakfrond proved to be no exception to the usualoh, you’re a half-goblinreaction. He glanced up from his computer with an expression that suggested he’d bitten down on a lemon slice and waved a hand to the metal folding chair in front of the desk. “Have you been actively looking for work?”
Hank leaned forward with his elbows on his knees, making himself smaller. “No, sir. I was employed until yesterday.”
“Previous employer?”
“Tripartite Consulting.”
“As janitorial staff?”
With a great deal of effort, Hank didnotgrind his teeth. “As a CPA, sir.”
That got him a snort and a skeptical look. “Do you have something to prove that?”
“No, sir. But it’s in the employment records.”
Oakfrond didn’t bother to check. He continued to train that hostile glare on Hank. “How long were you employed there?”
