Blacklake-Book4-1 Three Cousins

Chapter 7
~

“He said I was beautiful,” Ezra whispered to me, as we picked at the Inn buffet.

I jerked a bit, worked hard to hide my surprise. Mind spun with what I should say to that. Talk about a slidin’ scale. I could offer to kill him for her. Maybe though, be better to say I agreed with him. Yeah. That would work. I can crush the idjit’s head in later.

“Well, ya are beautiful,” I said. I can in fact be tactful. Lean toward wise.

“Ya know I’m not, so don’t even say it,” she said, drawin’ a second t-bone onto her platter after glarin’ at it a moment.

“We’ve talked about yar poor self image—” I gave her a hard look not to argue with me. I started to repeat the spiel I’ve made dozens of times over the years, that maybe she doesn’t have the runway-model looks that weak-minded folk fawn over, but—yadda yadda yadda.

Maybe I sighed. I’ve mixed up the babble each time, and none ever seemed to make her feel better about herself, so didn’t see the point in kickin’ the horse. I adore the hen. She’s my most favorite folk on the Earth. That’s all I care about. But it makes me sad that she can’t see herself like I do.

A human to my right was givin’ me a glare, so I shuffled my feet to get down the buffet line. I had lost the sharp edge of my appetite anyway. Maybe the other four trips I’d made to the buffet had something to do with that besides this particular conversation—they oughta use larger plates here, much larger.

I followed Ezra back to our table, where Kriz sat with Thomas. Wow. The human looked uncomfortable sittin’ next to the cuz, without a mediator—protector. I should prolly tell the human that Kriz isn’t gonna rip his head off. He scowls at everyone that way.

While still thinkin’ about the weird situation between Thomas and Ezra, it dawned on me that Thomas had eaten a bunch—for a human. “Uh, Thomas.”

He looked up. Maybe grateful he wasn’t alone with Kriz any longer. His eyes did dart back and forth between me and Ezra. Uncomfortable like. I’d known the human for years. Never saw a moment where he appeared not the boss in any crowd. He almost looked humble this afternoon. Could he really be smitten with Ezra? Hmm. Back to the food issue.

“I mighta shoulda mentioned Mama’s expectin’ us for dinner in a few hours. This was sposed to be just a snack to hold us over.”

The man dropped his jaw, mouth agape—I think humans call it—something we ogres can’t do with our tusks. Not really. His eyes darted at my and Ezra’s new plates. Yeah. We’d filled em up, but we ogres eat a lot. Have an annoyin’ly brisk metabolism. Our muscle requires a lot of fuel. He hadn’t noticed that in all these years?

“This isn’t dinner?” he asked.

Ezra growled a great chuckle that made me chuckle. “No. Just a snack. And ya know, if ya don’t dig into Mama’s food, well, not good to insult an ogre hen’s cookin’.”

After a three-count, Ezra and I chortled good again. Only a little of it was for Thomas’ fearful look. Not that I’m great with human expressions, still. They can twist those soft faces into pretzels. Kriz looked up at me. Scowl barely indicated he had no idea what was so funny. So sad my second-favorite cousin can’t appreciate the best moments of life.

Wonder what Kriz would think about Thomas flirtin’ with Ezra. Prolly wouldn’t think anything of it. He’s good with anything that doesn’t affect him personally. He personifies the live and let live mindset. Maybe part of why he favors orcs so much. They’re really free spirits. I mean, they’re alright and all, for itty bitty runts with no muscle. But those tingly-sharp teeth. Oh stink, they could rip out a folk’s throat with those. Says the stories. Not mentionin’ those claws. Thankfully, most keep em pretty trim.

~ Ezra ~

Zarade’s mouth hung open a bit like she interrupted words workin’ out of her. I followed her frozen gaze to find Aunt Karzy’s face glarin’ my way, between the six-inch crack in the door to the dining room she held open.

The dinner rush was over so all of us were busy cleanin’ anything that didn’t run from our soapy cloths. Instinctively, I realized Zarade read my aunt’s almost hostile expression as a meanin’ful thing. Something was up. I dropped my washcloth in my soapy pan and dried my hands.

“Take yar time,” Zarade murmured. If I wasn’t an ogre hen, that might have struck me with a bit of dread.

“Uh, okay.” Her remark maybe ramped up my discomfort nonetheless. I strode to meet Aunt Karzy, a tickle workin’ its way up my spine. The family joke is that she’s the clan enforcer. Her toughness derived maybe from keepin’ Kriz in line. That bull has originated more than his share of headaches. Intentionally and mostly not. Usually from irritatin’ those who didn’t understand his, situation. Or care, one way or the other.

“What’s up?” I asked as Karzy pushed the door open further.

“Gotta talk,” she close ta whispered.

“Uh. Okay.”

“Let’s go through the kitchen. Be more private in the garden.”

My face flashed with a bit more heat. All the hen cluckin’ had vanished in the kitchen as I followed Aunt through the long room. She held her gaze forward, not acknowledgin’ the other hens. Uh oh. Ogre hens are all about socializin’. Aunt appeared on a mission.

A hard chill washed over me as I crossed the threshold, lettin’ the screen clack shut behind me. Not that the night was overly cool—more because the kitchen stays hot with all the ovens, roasters, and stoves. Prolly some by all the hen cluckin’.

“Something happen to Kriz?” I asked. She wouldn’t have made this trip to see me if one of her other younglings—but the relationship between the three of us, me, Kriz, and Ike, is pretty renowned in the Valley.

She didn’t act as though I was trailin’ behind her until she reached the benches we take our breaks on. After sittin’, she patted the seat next to her. After we got our skirts laid out just right across our knees, she said, “Kriz is blessed without a care in the world. Brain fixated on whatever technical doodad has his interest for the moment.”

Even his mama fails to appreciate the bull. Irritated me just a bit. “Then why are ya actin’ so troubled?” I growled. I am an ogre hen, after all.

“Yar mama oughta be havin’ this conversation with ya, but, well, I was the one who told ya about the flowers and bees, so I guess no surprise I got selected.”

Earthy things do embarrass Mama a bit. “Got selected?”

“To decide what we’re gonna do with the current problem,” she said, softly.

Of course I asked what current problem. She sighed deeply. Being Kriz’ mama, she has frustrated sighs down to a science—a skilled art.

“The Valley already vibratin’ about ya takin’ that fool hikin’. Those of us with sense have to shut down the comment the idjit made to ya.”

What!

“Good thing Ike sought his mama’s advice first thing. She was smart enough to pull me and yar mama into the issue right away. Please, little hen, tell me ya haven’t told anyone else about that fool’s statement.”

I sat, maybe a bit stunned.

“Tell me ya didn’t share it with any of those chatty hens in the kitchen. Please tell me that.”

About him thinkin’ I’m attractive? That’s what this is about?

“Every d Birs is at the pinnacle of fool tongue-waggin’ gossip. This gets out, ya won’t be wantin’ to live in the Hamlet tomorrow.”

“Aren’t ya blowin’ this out of proportion just a bit?” I asked.

“Oh, ya poor, naive, little hen.” She patted me on the knee. “Yar question alone makes me wanta bludgeon ya in the head. Every tongue already waggin’ because ya were seen drivin’ the fool to Gladdie Trailhead. What were ya thinkin’?”

“Is that idjit Ike behind this?” I asked. “This is some kind of joke, right?”

“No joke. A nothing will be a mountain after a few tellings. Maybe not that many. First delivery of this will be exploded into a thing, ’cause who wants to be caught passin’ on a nothing?”

What did she say? I was openin’ my mouth, pretty sure to argue, but she interrupted me with almost a shriek.

“Did ya tell anyone else?”

The crickets, frogs, and mosquitoes made the night seem loud for a good ten-count.

“No,” I finally answered.

She emptied her lungs. Patted my knee again. After a good two minutes, maybe her mind was spinnin’ with a lot of thoughts, she said, “Good. Don’t.”

~