Page 17 of Horn in My Side
Jasmine averted her gaze, hoping he hadn’t noticed her staring.
Get a grip, Jasmine. And stop crushing on your boss.
Clearing her throat, she averted her gaze. “Uhm, I should get back to work.”
“Yeah.” He took his phone out from his pocket. “And uh, I actually need to go run an errand. I’ll see you later.”
Oh Mother Goddess, she couldn’t possibly still be attracted to him?
His shifting moods left her dizzy, from his anger at the cockatrice incident, to his coming to her door to apologize, then treating her coldly the last few days.
He’d done so many one-eighties that she wasn’t sure which way he was facing now.
He was just being nice , she told herself.
Mal had offered to help her because he didn’t want to disappoint the kids at the school and Vrig.
She had to stop assigning meaning to the things he did, as their relationship was strictly professional and nothing more.
In any case, she had more things to worry about, like getting over her stage fright.
Just the thought of being up there with all those little faces staring up at her had her sweating bullets.
But she’d already promised Mrs. Howard they would come, so she would just have to suck it up and get through it.
“Nervous?” Mal asked as they waited in the wings of the Edith Hamilton Elementary School auditorium.
“Yeah.” Jasmine wiped her damp palms down the front of her slacks, then adjusted the hem of her white blouse.
Hopefully, her outfit was okay, as she usually wore jeans, a shirt, and sneakers to these things, but she would be onstage today, so she wanted to look presentable at the very least. To her annoyance, a lock of black hair had escaped from her chignon bun, and no matter how many times she tucked it back, it kept slipping out.
“Don’t be,” Mal assured her. “You’ll be fine.”
Easy for him to say, since he wasn’t going to be speaking in front of a crowd. Jasmine took a calming breath, reminding herself this was just like talking to a customer in the shop. Besides, she’d seen Vrig do this about half a dozen times by now. All she had to do was copy what he did.
“. . . and now let’s give our guests a warm welcome!” Mrs. Howard announced from the stage.
“All right.” She straightened her shoulders. “Here we go.”
Jasmine’s knees wobbled as she took her first steps onto the main stage, but fortunately, she managed to get to the middle without embarrassing herself. Mal, meanwhile, pulled a cart that held the three carriers they had brought in from Fantastic Tails.
The students, who came from the second and third-grade classes, cheered and applauded, their excitement palpable.
Mrs. Howard raised a hand and a hush fell over the auditorium. “Everyone, this is Miss Jasmine, and this is Mr. Mal. He’s Mr. Vrig’s nephew and he’s helping out today.”
While most kids who first saw an orc might have been intimidated by Mal’s size and fierce tusks, they all clapped when Jasmine gestured to him.
After all, they knew Vrig as a gentle giant, so it was no surprise they offered a warm welcome.
Mal, on the other hand, had the most adorable, bewildered expression on his face.
Unsure what to do, he did a little wave.
Mrs. Howard handed Jasmine the microphone and gave her a thumbs-up sign. Slowly, Jasmine turned to face out into the audience. “Good mor—” The screech of the feedback cut into her greeting, and she cringed visibly. Clearing her throat, she tried again, but sound refused to come out.
What felt like hundreds of pairs of eyes—though in reality there were maybe about forty kids in total—looked up at her eagerly.
Sweat formed on her palms, and she gripped the mic tighter, praying it wouldn’t slip from her grasp.
Her breath turned loud and heavy to her ears and she resisted the urge to curl up into herself.
As panic rose up in her chest, she turned to Mal. As if sensing her discomfort, he gave her an encouraging nod, then mouthed you can do this. While this didn’t get rid of the butterflies in her stomach, they did cease fluttering madly. With a grateful smile, she turned back to the audience.
“G-good morning.”
Okay, Jasmine, first two words out.
“As you know, Mr. Mal and I run the pet shop on Main Street, Fantastic Tails and Magical Scales.”
And first sentence done.
“And today we’ve brought along a few friends to show you all.”
Introduction finished.
“Let’s start, shall we?”
Now we’re moving.
Mal proceeded to open the first cage, which contained a tiny, furry creature that looked even tinier in the palm of his large hand.
“This,” she began, “is a tizzie whizie and his name is Daryl.”
Jasmine had chosen the tizzie whizie because it was cute and easy to handle.
Yesterday, she’d sold one to a couple buying their first pet together, so she could easily rattle off the same spiel she had given them.
“Tizzie whizies come from the Lake District in England and were first discovered by the boatmen who worked there. Mr. Mal, if you please?”
Mal stepped forward and stretched his arms out, murmuring a few words.
When he opened his hands, a yellow bubble began to grow from his palms, forming a dome-like enclosure.
She’d remembered Vrig doing something similar when he cast spells.
Though she always tried to make out what he said she never could and guessed it was in the orcish language.
This time, however, she couldn’t concentrate on what Mal was saying as she was mesmerized by the sight of his forearms. He rolled up the sleeves of his flannel shirt, showing off the sinewy muscles there.
The veins under his green skin pulsed as he held the dome aloft, and heat curled in her belly.
Get it together, Jasmine!
She quickly averted her gaze and turned to the audience. “Tizzie— ahem —tizzie whizies have a furry body and are a little larger than an average hedgehog. They have a long tail and small wings which allow them to hover, much like a bumble bee or a hummingbird.”
As if on cue, Daryl floated up, his bushy tail wagging back and forth.
The children gasped and clapped. Jasmine then rattled off a few more facts about the tizzie whizie, though not many of the kids seemed to be paying attention as their eyes were glued to Mal, who had grown the dome to over five feet now, extending it over the stage so Daryl buzzed around over the children’s heads.
That suited her just fine, as without the pressure of all those eyes watching her, she managed to get through the rest of the speech unscathed.
Once they’d finished with the tizzie whizie, Mal put him back into his cage before hauling out the next one—this time, a large crate about two feet tall and three feet wide.
Jasmine’s grip on the microphone relaxed.
Vrig had brought this particular type of animal the previous assembly and she’d helped him with the presentation, so it was still fresh in her mind.
“Now, some of you may remember Bruce from the last time Mr. Vrig was here. Bruce is now living on a farm up in Oregon, but today we have Bruce’s little sister, who was born a few weeks ago. Everyone, meet Cora the laelaps.”
Mal opened the crate and whistled. A large dog trotted out, similar to a greyhound, though she had white fur with brown patches shaped like stars all over her body and a single one on her forehead. Cora sat down at full attention, facing Mal, pointy ears raised.
“Cora looks like a normal dog, but I assure you, she’s quite special.
Laelaps are hunters and they never fail to catch their prey.
” She took something out of her purse—a worn fox stuffie—and waved it around.
Cora’s gaze followed it with keen interest, though she remained seated on her hind legs.
“Mal, can you cover Cora’s eyes, please? ”
Mal retrieved a handkerchief from his pocket and wrapped it round the laelaps’ head.
“Can I have a volunteer?” Several hands shot up and Jasmine picked out a little girl from the center row. “Hi, what’s your name?”
“Kaylie.” A small, anxious face stared up at her, then at Cora. “Sh-she looked smaller from the audience,” she whispered.
Jasmine put the mic down. “It’s okay, Kaylie. Cora is nice and well trained.” She held up the mic again. “Now, Kaylie is going to help me by hiding this stuffie.” She handed it to the girl. “You can place it anywhere you want in the school, Kaylie. Pick a good hiding place, okay?”
The girl’s face lit up. “I will.”
“Good. Mrs. Howard will help you.” She ushered the girl offstage toward the principal and faced the audience. “Okay, while Kaylie picks out her hiding spot, let me tell you some interesting facts . . .”
Jasmine had been the one to compile the research about the laelaps, so the words flowed out of her easily.
In the middle of her speech, though, she locked eyes with Mal, who shot her a small smile and her heart did a little jig, causing her to trip over a few words.
Heat crept up her cheeks, and thankfully Kaylie came back before Jasmine embarrassed herself further.
“So, Kaylie, did you hide the stuffie in a super-secret place?”
She nodded.
“Let’s see if Cora can locate it.” She signaled to Mal, who removed the scarf from Cora’s eyes.
“Cora,” he commanded, “find!”
Cora was gone in a blur of brown and white.
“Why don’t we count and see how long it takes Cora to find the stuffie? Ready?” Jasmine raised a hand. “And go!”
The entire auditorium began to count, with even the teachers and parents joining in.
By the time they reached forty-five, the doors in the back flew open and Cora came galloping in, her long legs making quick work of the aisle leading to the stage.
Everyone cheered as the laelaps approached the front and leapt up—straight at Jasmine and Kaylie.