This minotaur was smaller than Asterion, but it was easy to spot the more obvious differences between them. Whereas Asterion was a beast covered in shaggy rust colored fur, this minotaur had his hair closely shaved. His pectorals had barely any hair upon them. Really, only once you reached his thighs did, he begin to appear to look more like his cousin to the north.
If not for the bull horns that curved elegantly from the top of his head, he looked more like the satyrs of Olympus than a minotaur of myth and legend.
“Twice now I’ve been visited by the gods,” he said it curiously, cocking his large head. His russet colored hair was pulled back in a ponytail. His brows were thick and shaggy, covering heavy brow bones. His face looked flat, like a cyclops had made sport of him. His teeth were large and blunt, much like a horse’s.
He was not attractive in the slightest, but there was a keen intellect that stared back at me through his dark green eyes and for some curious reason, I imagined that even in him Psyche could find some sort of beauty.
She seemed to be able to find beauty in what others deemed repulsive.
My fists clenched.
“You say you were visited by a god before me. Who?” I asked softly.
“He was called Ares. A tall and imposing man dressed all in black with fire in his eyes.”
Of course, mother had sent her lover to do her dirty work for her.
I nodded.
“Yes, that doesn’t surprise me. Did he say what he wanted?”
“And why should I answer you? You are not much of a god, as far as gods go.”
My brows lifted. I hadn’t expected the minotaur to be kind, most creatures, even half breeds, weren’t. But I’d also not expected his censure.
Still, I swallowed my need to defend myself. The truth was, I was considered less than nothing amongst my own peers, how could I fault him with keeping that same view? To all on Olympus, I was nothing but mother’s lackey. I clenched my jaw.
“If you know about the gods, then you know my connections.”
He sneered. “And what is love to me, boy?” he growled. “None could love me and I am sure I could never love a pathetic creature like a human. For too long they have mocked and jeered my kind. Speaking about us as though we were beneath them and worthy only as it pleased them.
He rattled the chains on his wrist I’d not seen him wearing just moments ago.
His contempt for humans was evident. And in my heart, I knew that should he gain possession of Psyche, as mother clearly intended, his hated for her kind would come spewing out of him. She would suffer for all that others had done to him.
But for all that, the minotaur still intrigued me. How had he come to be here? He seemed far more intellectual than the average half breed. Too bright to have been caught so easily.
“You’re curious about me,” he said it matter of factly.
I shrugged, not bothering to deny it.
He shifted, glancing quickly over his shoulder, before taking a seat on a protruding section of stone that could serve as a bench. “It’s not as though I’ve anyplace to be. And considering that tomorrow I am to be married,” he snorted inelegantly, “I find myself in a different sort of mood. Ask your questions. I will answer them.”
The fact remained that this minotaur was not a good match for Psyche. He would hurt her. I could read his heart and I knew there would never come a day when he would learn to honor or respect her. No doubt that had been part of mother’s plan too.
The beast was clearly xenophobic. Not that he didn’t have cause, but I would be damned if I let him harm her. Still, I needed to play this like Dionysus would. With care. I needed to gain the beast’s trust somehow.
He might hate humans, but I was not one of them. I could use that fact to my advantage.
Sitting before him, I crossed my legs. He sat above me, almost like a king in repose. But that had been a calculated move on my part. I was attempting to put him at ease, to prove to him that not all gods were like the ones he knew.
He thinned his eyes. “You are good.” He sniffed.
My lips twitched. The beast was bright, I’d give him that.
“I will give you three honest answers. Choose your questions wisely.”
Only three, I had so many more. Trying to narrow them down to just three would be impossible. And yet, I had to try.
“What is your name?” I asked him.
His brows lowered. “I give you three questions and that is what you waste it on?” He laughed. “Humans and gods have such queer notions. Beasts have no name. Don’t you know that?” His continued laughter was tinged with bitterness.
“You ask me a question and so I will answer you just as honestly. You are right that beasts have no name. But you are no beast. What is man? A higher thinking species, is it not? And what sets them apart from those they master is a name. Names are power. Names connote strength. Wisdom. Feeling. You think. You speak. Eloquently. You recognize the injustice of your plight and because of that I see it too. If we can treat our pets with enough honor to grant them a name, then surely you, an autonomous thinking individual should bear one too.”
He was silent for several moments, so long I wondered if I’d lost him with my impassioned speech. But finally, he said, “They did not name me, but I did name myself. I am called, Basil.”
I nodded. “King-like. That is what it means. By choosing such a name you are owning that you are every much their peer.” I did not phrase it as a question because the Minotaur was far too wily, and would count that against me. But even so, I understood and did not need him to agree for me to recognize the truth of what he’d done.
His breath shuddered out of him.
“How is it that you know so much? You are far more learned than any other half breed I’ve ever met.”
His nostrils flared and I sensed that he wasn’t sure of me still. Whether I was just like all the rest of my peers, or if, maybe just maybe, I could be different. But it seemed to me that his gruff tone had cooled by a degree when he answered.
“King Artaxerxes found me when I was but a bull calf. I’d been barely weaned from my mother’s teat when he’d had me taken away. The abuse they heaped upon me was substantial. I was taught my place from the very beginning. I might be more powerful in body, but in these spelled chains I was as helpless as a babe.” He lifted his wrists, staring at the silver cuffs with a mile-long stare, no doubt recalling the tortures he’d endured at their hands.
“I suppose he saw my education as elevating his own status. He owned a creature that could impress his peers. I could recite poetry for them. Solve unsolvable mathematic equations. My elevated status made him a more desirable aristocrat to rub elbows with. It was never for me. Say what you will about the King he played the game very well. But had my elevation in status not directly affected his I doubt he would have bothered.”
I nodded, recognizing that he was very likely correct. I knew what it was to be raised amongst a group of peoples who lived simply to outshine those around them. One-upmanship was an Olympic sport on Olympus.
“Basil,” I said, finally getting around to my third question. “What is it that you desperately want above all else? And before you answer,” I held up a finger pausing him as he was about to respond, “I want you to really think about my question. Is it vengeance upon the mortals that you most require, or… would your freedom squelch your need for retribution? I have the power within me to grant you one request, so choose wisely.”
He narrowed his eyes, shaggy brows dropping and furrowing heavily as he studied me intently.
And as he did, I read the thoughts of his heart.
I caught snippets of the injustices that’d been done to him. More than simply walking about in chains, he’d been beaten, he’d been abused, and his humanity had been grossly violated. He’d been taunted repeatedly, told that he was nothing more than a beast. But shockingly, throughout the images I continuously caught flashes of Psyche herself.
Tending to his w
ounds.
Speaking to him as though he were a man. Pouring her heart out to him one quiet night that she’d been betrothed against her will and that she would rather die than be wed to such a vile man.
I also caught flashes of Psyche’s sisters, joining in on their father’s sport of Basil. The only kindness and decency he’d received had been at the hands of Psyche. I inhaled deeply, holding back a shudder of response.
Seeing her as Basil saw her, it only made me care deeper for her. She’d been raised in the same sort of toxic environment, told that her value lied only in what she could attain for her father’s coffers. It was so easy now to understand why she’d willingly taken that vial from me.
Her life had been equally as miserable as my own. But though I’d grown robotic, almost unfeeling through the years, it seemed as though Psyche had grown more and more empathetic to the plight of others. Especially those deemed lesser.
“I felt you inside of me,” he rubbed at his chest with a thumb, slowly back and forth. His gaze hooked mine. “You can, therefore, not be surprised that I actually think highly of her. So far as humans are concerned.”
“And yet still you would hurt her,” I said, again not a question. Stubborn minotaur would likely not answer if I had.
Shoving a hand through his fur on his head, he shook his head. “Know that I would not want to, Lord Eros—”
I shook my head. “Just Eros. I do not hold with pompous titles and ceremony.”
He paused, seeming amused but also hopeful that I might not be as all the others that’d come before me.
“As you say,” he responded gruffly, “but the truth is I know I would one day snap and with her being the only human in such close proximity to me she would bear the brunt of my displeasure. So, I suppose, what I am saying is if I had a choice, I would choose my freedom.”
On the outside the Minotaur seemed cold and forbidding, but I knew I’d guessed correctly when I’d seen the glimmer of unimaginable pain glowing like a cinder behind the fire of his eyes.
I nodded. “So, mote it be,” I whispered, and with just those words alone, the ringing out of rending metal exploded through the labyrinth.
Basil gasped, staring down at the spelled chains in disbelieving wonder. “How did… they are dipped in dragon’s blood. Nothing is stronger.”
Then he looked at me, and there was a new light in his eyes now. Shock. Disbelief. Hope now burned brighter than it had before. “Why would you do such a thing, Eros, son of Aphrodite?”
I dare not answer him. Even walls had ears. But I was feeling something too. Deep inside of me, it was unfurling and coming to life. Like a seedling bursting through the darkness, I felt the stirring of something far greater within myself than I’d ever known before.
I shook my head, but my words came out softly. “Perhaps, Basil, the scales have recently fallen from my eyes. Perhaps I only wish to be redeemed, to find purpose greater than what I’ve known before.”
He nodded and for several tense moments we looked upon one another, questions burning upon the tips of our tongues. But I’d run out of them now and though I knew he was surprised that I’d not betrayed him, I also knew he and I were not friends. Might never be, Basil’s mistrust of the gods and of mortals was deeply entrenched within him. A wound that might never heal, though I hoped he would find his own rest from that painful burden someday.
I knew his life would be no better though, even without the shackles, the fact remained that he was a half breed. And most humans would revile him simply because of his heritage, which he had no control over. I also knew the male was proud and would not accept any more from me. Unless I was smarter than he.
I grinned. “Where do you go now?”
“Crete,” he said without pause, “I have a brother there, I wish to find him.”
I nodded. “You will pass through many human settlements. I doubt many of them would take kindly to seeing you. You might be free of the shackles, but you won’t really be free. You do know that, Basil.”
He frowned, and a heavy dull grow reverberated through his chest. “Do you wish to frighten me, lesser god?”
I shrugged and pressed my lips together tightly. “No, I merely state the truth.”
“To what end?” he snarled.
I smirked, assuming the pose of a sardonic and self-satisfied god. “Say, I could help you pass through mortal lands unhindered, what might that be worth to you?”
My palms were sweating, my heart racing. I did not like behaving in this manner. It felt foreign and wrong to me, I’d never felt more like my mother than I did now. But I could not drop the charade. Basil did not trust kindness, but he did trust that gods and mortals would always betray and disappoint him.
He straightened his shoulders and stared down his nose at me. “What are you getting at, lesser god?”
He’d stopped calling me that for a while earlier, now it seemed he took great pride in cutting me with those words. I was a lesser god, it was a truth I could never escape, just as it was a truth that no matter what I did for him, on the inside, Basil would always be a half breed of man and beast.
I shrugged, leaning casually against the wall of his former prison. “You’re a smart beast, you tell me.”
I would not make this easy for him. I was weary to the bone of these games I played, but Psyche’s safety was paramount and took precedence even over my own fragile ego.
He snorted. “You are no different after all. I should have known. And yet I would be a fool to reject your offer. Much as I despise the mortals, even I am no match for a mob of them. What is that you offer?”
I clipped a hard and decisive nod. “Safety in exchange for a boon at a date and time of my choosing.”
“I am but a lowly minotaur, what could I possibly have to offer you?” he growled.
I sniffed. “You never know what I may require someday, but I’ve learned through the years to never look a gift horse in the mouth. Now give me your hand and let us shake as men.”
He blinked, and again that wary suspicion and thread of hope glittered in his eyes. I confounded him. He wanted to hate me, and yet I was his first and best means of escape. Of living a life that he chose for himself. Basil had never known freedom, not even from infancy, this was an opportunity he was smart enough to recognize would never come his way again.
He took my hand.
Light exploded through the dank confines of the stony prison. Basil grunted and then a growl ripped from his throat, but the bestial sound soon turned into a human roar. He dropped to his knees, and as the blinding light began to flare the changes were obvious.
Kneeling before me was no beast, but a man in form.
He clutched at his chest, blinking back tears as he looked up at me. “I…I am—”
“Only in the day time. At night you will revert to your true nature. But you are safe from the mobs.” I helped him to stand.
Even as a man, Basil wasn’t much to look at. Much of his animalistic nature had been softened, but he still had the flattened nose and shaggy brows. He hadn’t changed much at all, but it was enough to keep him protected.
“Will I always remain so?”
I wondered if that was disappointment I heard in his tone, but I shrugged. There was much more to what I’d done to him. I was Eros after all, the god of love. What I’d placed upon him was no curse, but he would eventually revert back to his true nature for good once he’d found someone to love him for who he truly was. Only once his heart was healed of the poison would he finally know true peace.
But… Basil would not thank me for it. Now. Though someday I knew he would remember what I’d done when he swung his daughter above his head. Her smile would heal every inch of his fractured soul. Another secret I would not share with him. This was a path Basil would have to walk alone and it would not be an easy one for him, but at the end of all of this, he would grow and mature and one day he would know rest.
“That is up to you,” I said cryptically. “And don’t
forget, that I will be calling upon you one day. So, keep your ears and eyes open, now go.”
I clapped my hands and the space where he’d once stood was empty. I dipped my head, rubbing at my temples.
I would never call upon him. He’d earned his respite. Mother would think me weak for what I’d just done.
I felt weary through every inch of my own very altered body.
I stared at the weathered hands of this body, I was no more attractive than Basil, and yet she’d kissed me. With truth and with passion.
I squeezed my eyes shut, focused on the tremors coursing through my bones, my veins, my flesh.
If I didn’t know better, I would think Psyche had cast her own curse upon me. She made me do wild and crazy things. She made me take risks I never could have otherwise.
As the god of love, I understood exactly what was happening to me. I’d seen it happen to so many others before me. This was love, and I’d not even been pricked by one of my own arrows.
I shook my head. Basil was no longer a problem. But mother still was.
What was I to do?
Then I heard the faint scratching of something sharing the cave with me. Waving my hand, I produced a ball of light and saw a brown, rather largish rat. It squeaked when the light struck him and began to run.
I snapped my fingers, and suddenly that ball of fur was in my palm. The moment he touched my flesh, he settled down.
“Grow,” I simply said.
And then I set him back down. The rat was entranced, calmed by waves of love and peace I poured out from within me.
I watched as he grew and grew and grew. Suddenly he was as big as Basil had been. With proportions quite similar to his own. Broad in chest, narrower at his waist. Though there was no burn of intellect in his face, no humanoid features to speak of. He was simply a monster sized rat.
Snapping the chains back on him, the rat squeaked out in protest.
“Forgive me, beast. I promise that tomorrow you will know your freedom once again. Only I have need of you now.”
The King of Hearts (The Dark Kings Book 9) Page 9
