I should have called in sick. Had I pretended to
suffer from some ailment, my name wouldn’t have been added to the list of
potential sacrificial lambs doomed to work for the Hunters of Moonriver for the
next week, possibly for longer.
I enjoyed change, and I preferred it on a daily
basis.
The Hunters of Moonriver would give me change
for a few days, but after the first week, the monotony would drive me insane.
All factions were alike. Once someone settled into their role, that was that.
They stared down an endless tunnel of the same old, climbing the social ladder
for higher pay, slight modifications to their duty, and more responsibility.
After a month of that, I would surely go mad.
As one of Moonriver’s unaffiliated, I flitted
from faction to faction, filling in for those who couldn’t work for whatever
reason. I preferred when I covered for one of the craft factions, but after a
week of doing the same job, I craved new waters, new experiences, and new
people.
I loved the thrill of discovery, and none of the
factions had offered me the variety I needed to be satisfied with my lot in
life. As such, I remained one of the oldest unaffiliated in the city, working
at a temp firm.
My boss understood how I ticked and made sure I
could test new waters often.
Had I done something to irritate my boss? A job
with a minimum duration of a week would drive me insane, although I would do it
with a smile fixed into place on my face if it was asked of me.
“I knew I should have selected a faction last
quarter.” Of my co-workers, Sila tended to be the first to voice a complaint
but the last to do anything about her situation. Had anyone else tried that
garbage with me, I would have moved on, but Sila somehow managed to make me
smile even in the most dire of situations. While she complained and rarely
acted, if she could help someone else, she would.
My friend was the queen of contradictions.
She cleared her throat to make certain she held
my attention. As she rarely put up such a fuss, I did as she wanted and met her
gaze.
“I told you we should have made our selections
last quarter, Coraline,” Sila whined.
Any other day, I would have told her to mind her
own business or muttered about her attitude. Today, I wanted to join her,
abandoning my professionalism to indulge in a childish temper tantrum over the
situation. If I had picked a faction last quarter, I would have avoided
the entire situation, but I doubted I would have been happy with my
choice. Still, she made a good point.
“You might be right. How many qualified for the job?” With a little luck, all
six hundred or so employees could be picked, significantly limiting my chance
of being the unlucky one.
The last thing I needed was a long-term contract
with the any faction, let alone the undisputed rulers of Moonriver.
“Twenty,” Sila informed me in a solemn tone. “Of
which we are two of the twenty. I peeked at the list. More accurately, the boss
asked me to warn you that you are on the list, and that he will not believe any
excuse you might concoct to dodge this. As such, you can’t dodge your dance
with doom, and I fear it’s probable you’re the unlucky soul stuck with the
Hunters contract. Why else would he make me make you show up?”
Until it was confirmed I was stuck with the
contract, I would hold hope someone else would win the assignment. As there
were more than twenty people in the room, I assumed our boss had another reason
for calling most of our floor together for handing out our daily duties.
Usually, he either dropped the contracts off or sent us an email telling us we
had feet and should use them.
I longed to voice a curse, but professionalism
demanded I remain silent.
“There’s a rumor that the odds aren’t equal. By
request.”
I relaxed, as my general skill set meant I spent
most of my time working with craft or artisan factions. “The boss asked you toy
with me, didn’t he?”
“Maybe a little. He didn’t tell me who was
picked, just that somebody has already been assigned the contract, and that you
have to deal with the same stress just like everyone else. But you’re no Hunter,
and everybody knows it. But maybe the boss wants to add a little extra
versatility to your resume? It’s only for a week or two, as far as I know.”
The wolf-dominated Hunters needed athletic,
strong people with a fondness for difficult challenges.
I preferred difficult mental challenges,
especially when numbers were involved. While anyone could discover their animal
and begin shifting at any age, those who wanted to shift actively pursued their
magic—or partnered with a shapeshifter.
I had opted against putting in the effort; I
struggled enough with life without the additional complications of
shapeshifting. I also dodged dating shapeshifters, as most who married a
shifter developed their magic through frequent exposure.
As such, I did my best to avoid anyone
associated with the Hunters of Moonriver, who ran the city and the nearby towns
with iron paws but common sense and tolerable ethics.
“Well, that should eliminate me, then,” I said,
allowing myself a relieved sigh. “Me, working with the Hunters? You said it
yourself. I’m no Hunter.”
Fur would fly, and not in a good way.
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