Colette banged two manicured blue fists on her desktop as she peered at Legacy in the normal sized chair in front of her gargantuan desk. Her lips rolled in over her upper fangs.

“I have a job for you. And it starts tomorrow.”

Legacy had never seen the orc so excited.

"Who is it?"

"Henry Akerman."

Words and curiosity and misgivings scrambled so chaotically in her mind, they failed to find a physical exit point.

Such was not the case for Augusta, who managed to swear multiple times under her breath. Yes, that summed it up nicely.

She felt her stomach do some manner of acrobatics she didn’t know it was capable of. The Henry Akerman? The notorious gang lord? The largest distributor of consumables in Alderbridge before the imposition?

It didn't sound like a job. It sounded like a fool’s errand. She loved Colette and all the merry maidens, but she wasn't prepared for a suicide mission. She wanted to say "you're insane," or "find someone else," but they all knew she excelled in clandestine work better than any of the others. It was a matter of simple genetics. She, instead, hid her trepidation.

"Didn't Henry Akerman disappear a decade ago?"

Colette unrolled a pamphlet and set it across her desk for them to read. The header was printed in a large, dark font.

Mr. Jonathan Hyde, Cogwork, Clocks, Repairs, and More

Below it was a picture of a small shopfront with flower boxes on its windowsills.

“What could ‘More’ possibly be?” Legacy asked, to mask an alternatively uncouth 'what the fuck'. She found curse words often got the message across most readily, but they took away half the fun of allowing her brain to process and reorganize the intellectual bludgeoning it was receiving.

“I’m pretty sure you’ll be the one to find out,” Augusta said with arms crossed.

The orc matron leaned forward, either ignoring their asinine comments or not hearing them for all her eagerness. "He's been living under cover. Taken a new name and vocation. Belied under the guise of one Jonathan Hyde–clockmaker.” She looked back and forth between them as though expecting them to be just as excited as she was. “His shop opened in the southern quarter some five years ago. Does good business from word of mouth."

Legacy felt she wasn’t seeing the complete picture yet. She was waiting to be fed the tidbit that would make this mark assignment feel reasonable. Or better yet, the moment when Colette would reveal that orcs, in fact, made wonderful practical jokers.

What she would give to slow her own heartbeat.

"And you want me to seek out this clockmaker, who might be one of the most dangerous men this half of the century, and… woo him?"

She’d once heard that Henry Akerman had slaughtered an entire village so that he and his cronies could take up residence and used it as a consumable distribution point.

"It's even simpler than that. No seeking involved. He came to me.” She shrugged. “Or one of his aides, anyhow. He's looking for an apprentice from among our numbers to help him in-shop under contract. One that will also aid him with more sensitive tasks." The orc raised her eyebrows and puffed out her lips.

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

Augusta stuck out her tongue. "Like rolling sausages?"

‘Sensitive tasks’ would be why Colette had chosen her for the assignment. That was a given. She had to be the only one that didn’t object to the idea. Embraced it, even. But, there was a line between the good fun of sadomasochism and getting strung up by a psychopath. She chewed at the inside of her cheek. "Why did he come to you?”

"He obviously wants the long-term companionship of a young miss without having to answer to a woman's chaperone for the 'work' he needs."

"Disgusting,” Augusta inserted.

Colette’s mouth twisted upwards at its corners. "He's paying well for it, too."

An amalgamation of emotions struck. A contract? When had her worth become a steady flow of silver? And for how long? She'd always been open to taking on jobs that required some amount of physicality, but they were always as a means to an end. This… she bit her tongue. Her stomach roiled at the selfishness of her own inner chatter. If this was what the Merry Maidens required of her… well, she’d felt her loyalty tested before and continued to show up early.

"So there's no other aim, for us, then? I'm being set as a long-term contract?"

Colette's eyes widened, understanding her meaning. "Now, now child," she chided. "You think I'd set you to such a task as a farmer milks its cows? Were that the only opportunity here, I would have told Mr. Hyde to take his coin and rehouse it in a way that would make even Augusta blush."

"To be fair, blush is a thing that takes tips from me, so I warrant that comment ent valid." Augusta said with a shrug.

Legacy felt her tension uncoil. She took what seemed like her first full breath since entering the room.

"By the authorities last deduction, Mr. Hyde," Colette drew air quotes around Akerman’s false name, "is worth nearly a million gold pieces and is in possession of the original consumable scoby."

And there it was. Her actual mark.

Augusta let out a low whistle.

Colette put her pointer finger to Mr. Hyde’s flier. "Find the scoby. Of course, his fortune would be a grand bonus. Your ‘salary’ is just the bone broth of a perfect hunt."

The Merry Maidens had sought to regain women’s rights by any means possible for nearly a decade, now. Rights ended because of the upheaval caused by consumables. Never reinstated because of the original scoby still being undocumented.

"There's a beautiful symmetry to it, don't you think? Akerman is the one who started this whole mess. Now we'll make him become the means of finishing it. This job might change the game for us."

Legacy felt her mouth go dry. "You say find the scoby. How do you expect us to retrieve it? If this is truly Henry Akerman's stash… well, wouldn't he take extreme measures to have it guarded?”

"You'll have only but to see it."

Legacy's confusion dissipated as Colette drew a coin sized box from a drawer within her desk. It had what was obviously a permanency spell sealed around it. The purple aura of the magic rippled as she set it down on the polished wood in front of her.

It was a consumable.

"I've kept this a secret for twenty years.” Colette whispered. “Until tonight."

There hadn’t been any reported consumable use cases in at least three years. One bite and Legacy would have the power to travel to any point she’d physically seen in an instant. It was the ultimate weapon

Colette came around the table and got down onto her shins so that they were at eye level. She put her hands on Legacy’s knees. “Can I depend on you for this task?”

Legacy felt her breath catch in her chest. Like time was moving too quickly for her to give adequate consideration to the thing in front of her. Henry Akerman was a villain. The worst of the men they targeted. Who knew what he was capable of–or how he might treat what he considered to be a street whore? But that wasn't why she was terrified of getting to know him. Just as with the rest, she was sure she would come to love him. And a bigger score for the Maidens meant a bigger betrayal on her part.

She looked at Colette and felt an overwhelming desire to please her. The orc had practically raised her. Taken her from the orphanage that planned to cast her out onto the streets for fear of what she was–a quarter fae.

“Yes,” she said. “Akerman–is a monster." Strong language, but she’d long since learned how to speak in a way the Merry Maidens approved of. "We will take back what was taken from us. And Mr. Jonathan Hyde will be the one to fit the bill.”