The Centaur Queen

by Jovee Winters

Until now.

  She sighed. “Sex, yes. And it was awful.”

  Her hands were hot and gliding as they moved over my shoulders, down my arms, and up my back. If I hadn’t already been sitting, I might have collapsed under my own weight. This woman had broken me completely.

  “They rutted me from behind like a beast, grunting and groaning, and it was over almost before it’d started.”

  I chuckled. Her description did sound terrible. “So you’re with me for my magical cock. You wouldn’t be the first, my álogo.”

  She snorted, the sound vaguely horsey, and my soul soared.

  “While your cock is magic, it is not why I choose you. I choose you because you make me feel inspired. You make me have all these wonderfully insane feelings that make me feel sick and wondrous and weightless and desperate.”

  She had just described my own feelings, and I huffed. “Gods above, I love you, female.” The words just tumbled out of me.

  She beamed, seeming almost to glow. “I know. You just need to accept that I feel the same.”

  And then she lowered herself onto my aching cock, slowly sliding down inch by inch. Neither of us thought about what awaited us tomorrow. Right now, I had my woman right where I wanted her. I made love to my centauress until she screamed my name to the heavens.

  How could I ever let her leave me? How could I ever walk away from her after this?

  I couldn’t. I wouldn’t. Somehow, someway we had to make this work. Somehow, someway I had to convince her for the rest of our long lives that she’d chosen right when she’d picked me. I would work to make her love me always.

  She was mine. This lovely, shy, intelligent female was all mine. And I was hers.

  Chapter 14

  Tymanon

  We made love all night long, stopping only to rest for an hour or so before one of us rolled over and initiated it all over again.

  I looked at him now, asleep on the mat beside me, the one he’d crafted for me inside the games. Every thoughtful gesture and deed he’d ever performed for me, I thought about now.

  True enough, Petra would never be considered a great beauty, or even ruggedly handsome. But I’d never cared much for the outer shell. I’d always looked at the heart and judged. And in that, he was far more beautiful than anything or anyone I’d ever met before.

  I bit my bottom lip as my gaze raked over him. His nose was slightly crooked. He had freckles everywhere. His hair would never be anything but messy. I smiled. I was so unbelievably in love it bordered on the obscene.

  With a soft laugh, I trailed my fingers down the crook of his nose, hoping he’d stir, look up, and grab me again. I sensed he might still be holding back during intercourse.

  It was good. Better than good. It was amazing. But Petra was unbelievably tender with me, almost like I was made of glass. There were times I’d see a glow in his eyes, something wild and feral. It’d scared me the first time I’d seen it. But now, I found myself growing curious, wondering what it would feel like if he unleashed that tempest on me the way he surely had with his nymphs.

  I jutted out my jaw, determined to make him completely lose himself with me. I wanted to feel his fire, feel his burn. Petra feared he wasn’t my equal. Well, I feared he’d think the opposite someday too.

  I wasn’t delicate. I wasn’t scared. I wanted his animal, wanted him to know it was safe to play with me however he wanted to. I bit the corner of my lip.

  “I love you, you bloody, stubborn fool,” I whispered, and still he didn’t stir. He slept the sleep of the dead. Yesterday had been trying for us both. Soon the Fates would arrive, sending us on our next challenge.

  There’d be no more lovemaking, at least not for now. I tried to squelch my disappointment, but couldn’t hide the frown on my lips. I was insatiable for this man and doubted that would ever change.

  “Centauress, queen of nothing.”

  The voice was deeply feminine, and I twirled on my seat, staring directly into the milky-white eyes of Lachesis, the Fate of the present and measurer of the golden thread of life. She was the middle sister of the three sisters, and yet yesterday, I’d sensed it was she who made the final decision in a predestined matter.

  She was dressed in a deeply v-cut robe of such brilliant white that it moved like freshly fallen mounds of pristine snow behind her. She looked older today, less maiden and more mother, with a few smile lines around her eyes and mouth. Her skin was still the same shade of golden bronze, but her hair was as white as her gown. The tri-tipped crown of stars rested upon her lovely head.

  I glanced over her shoulder, noting the absence of her sisters. Lachesis had come alone. Why?

  “Is the challenge to begin already?” I asked, thinking we had more time.

  She shook her head. “No.”

  I lifted a brow but said nothing, waiting for her to say what she’d come here to say. Her look was penetrating. Blind as she was, I knew she could see me. She held her shoulders erect, the pose almost arrogant. But I sensed no threat from the Fate.

  “Why would you do this?” she asked haltingly.

  Cocking my head, I studied her back. She sounded thoughtful, curious, and I couldn’t help but smile softly at her. Something about her made me think of myself.

  “Free the Gorgon, you mean?”

  She gestured with her arms. “Were you anyone else, I would think you a fool. But you are not a fool, centauress. So why?”

  “Have you spoken with Atropos, then?” Atropos was the Fate of what came next.

  “No.” She blinked. “Clotho, actually.”

  “The past?”

  Lachesis tipped her head in acknowledgement, pursing her lips tightly as though conflicted about whether to speak or not. I glanced over my shoulder, at a still sleeping Petra. He had always been such a light sleeper. This was Lachesis’ doing.

  Turning back to her, I shrugged. “You keep my male locked in dream. You wished this meeting.”

  She sniffed, before rolling her eyes. “You’re a rather clever centaur.”

  “Is that a bad thing?”

  “It’s different, certainly. I cannot figure you out. We had your challenges set. I knew what was coming. And then... it all changed.” She snapped her fingers. “Just like that. It is not often that I find myself surprised by the actions of others. But you astonish me exceedingly. The past is set, and the future never sure. But the present is. Do you understand?”

  “Perhaps. But the heart and the mind can alter the course of destiny.”

  “You do not have to choose this path, centauress.”

  I wet my lips, heart pounding. I knew she was right. But she was wrong, also. From the moment I’d accepted Petra as mine, I’d known the choice was irrevocable for me. The consequences of my action weren’t lost on me.

  “Would you rather I not?”

  Looking off toward the ocean in the distance, Lachesis said nothing for several seconds. “I know what has happened and the many paths that can be taken in the future.” She looked back at me squarely, and now her eyes weren’t just milky, but glowed with a radiant lambent flame from within.

  I trembled.

  “I would be a liar if I said I do not wish you to succeed, for I do. And yet I find myself in a rather uncomfortable position, at present. It is rare that I take to a supplicant as I’ve taken to you. I watched you all through those preposterous games the gods put on. I saw the way Harpy was drawn to you, the pearls of wisdom she gained, and the knowledge she gleaned in your presence.”

  I often thought of Harpy.

  “How is she?” I asked, and Lachesis grinned.

  I held up my hand, waving off my words. “Never mind. I’ll discover on my own someday. I have no more boons to give.”

  A soft snort spilled from her before she took a long, deep breath. “The price you’ll pay will be enough to warrant an answer, I suppose.”

  I glanced back at Petra, hoping he slept, hoping he heard none of this, hoping he didn’t suspect for even a moment what I planned
to do. If he did, he’d never let me do it. Honorable and stubborn goat that he was, he’d fight me, and I didn’t want him to do that. He had another destiny.

  “Harpy lives in a land outside of this one, in a world of scattered darkness and ghosts. We are all safe from her.”

  I swallowed hard, aching for my friend’s terrible destiny. “It seems cruel that such an innocent should suffer in that way.”

  Lachesis’ lips tipped up, but her voice was glum as she said, “Even the noblest sacrifices often come at great cost to the bearer.”

  I shifted my eyes to the ground, knowing her words weren’t just about Harpy. “I won’t falter.”

  “I don’t doubt it. We will give you only two, Tymanon. Consider whether this sacrifice is truly worth it.”

  “Why are you so insistent on denying me this?”

  She frowned. “Because I like you, creature. Despite myself, I like you. And the cost seems far too much of a burden to pay. Surely, he doesn’t deserve it.”

  It was obvious to me that Lachesis had never known love, had never felt what I did. This wasn’t obsession masked as something noble, or even just desire. I truly loved my Petra and wished only to see him happy.

  I’d gone through every single scenario in my head, and always the outcome led me directly here. There was only one way to help him, and this was it.

  I shook my head, shifting my gaze to hers. My smile was grim. “I will see this through.”

  “Then we shall talk more on this later. Wake your Petra. My sisters come.”

  She vanished, and I turned, heading toward where he lay. But I stopped, staring at the golden apple dangling like a temptation before me.

  Biting my lip, I looked down at him and whispered, “Someday you’ll forgive me for this. Someday you’ll understand I had no choice.”

  Then snatching down the apple, I tucked it quickly into my pouch before patting it shut. The key to Petra’s happiness was within my grasp. Now, I only had to be brave enough to take that final leap.

  Closing my eyes, I called the shift to me and breathed a heavy sigh of relief when I felt myself return to my natural form.

  Slipping on my braces, bow, and quiver full of arrows, I finally woke him.

  “Petra, it is time.”

  The heaviness of slumber was gone from him. Immediately, he opened his eyes and looked around once before turning back to me. His full lips had turned down and there was a touch of confusion burning in his eyes.

  For just a second, I feared he’d heard all Lachesis and I had exchanged, but with a nod, he shoved fingers through his already unruly hair, and my stomach twisted within me.

  I would miss him terribly and probably forever. But Petra was right. Satyrs could never exchange souls. My only hope was that someday, he’d move on from his love of me, that when he thought of me, it wouldn’t be with bitterness but gratefulness.

  What I was going to do would wound him deeply, and he’d never forgive me, but it had to be done.

  I gave him a tight grin as he hopped to his feet.

  “Tymanon, I feel—” he started.

  “The next challenge has now begun.” It was Clotho, now standing to the left of us and wearing a robe of jeweled raven’s-wing feathers, who had spoken. Her head was shaved bald, but her lips were a red that rivaled that of freshly-drawn blood. She was stunning.

  So were the other two who stood behind her. Atropos did not look at us, but Lachesis did. There was a tight frown on her face.

  Petra turned to look at the Fates, but before he could move more than an inch, the landscape shifted again, and we were no longer in the garden of Gnósi, but in a landscape I’d only ever seen once before.

  There were thousands upon thousands of staircases, some made of wood, others of metal, some of mud, others of stone. They led up, down, and sideways.

  This was a world of stairs and of dazzling colors the shade of a tropical sunset. This was the world I’d been banished to after losing the gods’ game. My heart thundered, remembering the panic and fear of being trapped here forever.

  The time loop Harpy had set on me had prevented this fate. So why was I back now?

  Petra looked at me in obvious confusion, and I fought to tamp down the terror gnawing at me. I held out my hand to him, needing the reassurance of his touch. He grinned and took it, squeezing once. Immediately, I felt better. I wasn’t alone. Not this time.

  “What is this place, and what is this challenge?” he asked.

  I shivered as I glanced at him. I’d hoped never to return here. “This place is called the Stairs of Time, a place where life begins and ends, with stairways that lead to different worlds and nowhere at all. I... I believe this is a puzzle, Petra, and we must find our way out.”

  “Like the labyrinth of yesterday?”

  “Yes, but different.”

  “How?”

  “Time here isn’t what it is out there.” I gestured over my shoulder. “It isn’t finite. It’s infinite.”

  “Time is infinite. It carries on forever,” he said.

  “No.” I shook my head. “Not in the way you understand it. Not here. In here, time is literally suspended, moving neither forward, nor backward. It is paused, forever. But it also flows in its own way. This is the present in its most pure form.”

  He shivered, looking around with worried moss-green eyes. “Who would create such an abominable place?”

  I shrugged. “I am not sure. What I do know is that if you’re brought here, there’s a reason. Time only allows in those it has a use for.”

  “It?” A frown marred his forehead. “Are you saying this place is sentient?”

  “It can be either friend or foe, trapping you indefinitely, or leading you to greater knowledge.”

  His fingers curled. “And what is it to us?”

  My stomach curled with queasy knots. “I don’t know. Let us find out together.”

  When I turned, a glowing thread of gold snaked around and through the maze of stairs, beckoning to us.

  Leaning forward, I picked up the thread, holding it tight in my grasp. “Hold on to it too, Petra, and whatever you do, do not let go.”

  Nodding, he grabbed hold as well.

  Neither of us spoke as we took that first step.

  Chapter 15

  Petra

  We walked for miles. Miles soon turned into days. Days began to feel like weeks. Weeks turned into months. And months began to feel like years. Neither Tymanon nor I aged. We were fixed at the same point in time as when we arrived.

  We’d seen countless stairs, but not only stairs. There were landscapes beyond the funneling flights. There was an end to the places we walked, stars that fell into infinity, flower gardens that rolled like a living seascape of perfumed colors as far as the eye could see.

  And then stairs. And stairs. And more stairs. Countless stairs.

  We never tired in this strange place of stasis. We didn’t need to eat or drink. We followed the golden thread, and we talked about everything and anything.

  We could never stop walking or holding onto the thread for fear of losing it and never finding it again. But Tymanon was the very best kind of company. She kept my mind engaged and entertained.

  Every day found me falling even deeper in love with my centaur. It felt as though I’d been with her for an eternity of lifetimes now. I laughed and she smiled. She teased me almost relentlessly. And as much as I wanted to make love to her, or kiss her and hold her hand, I never could.

  “Do you think there will ever be an end to this place? Or are we destined to roam these paths forever?” I asked her one day as we walked through the vast echoing chamber of an ivory palace in the sky.

  The ballroom full of crystal chandeliers and the domed ceiling painted in gold leaf reflected the brightness of the perpetual sun. The checkered marble floor was veined through with long, jagged tears of vivid blue. We were surrounded by a bevy of stone statues of lesser gods, animals, half-breeds, men, women, and children, all of them posed i
n unusual stances, as if warding off evil or trying to turn and run. Some had eyes wide open and filled with stony terror.

  It was unusual to say the least. We had to wind our way through the sculptures, and I found myself peering at the strangely lifelike faces. Whoever the artist had been, he or she was a master to have created carvings with such energy and flow of movement.

  She smiled. “Who can say, my gída? Perhaps I missed something many years ago, a fork or a path not taken.”

  I snorted. “We both know that’s not true. There is no one cleverer than you, my love.”

  A swift blush colored her cheeks, but she accepted the compliment with a convivial nod. “Tell me about your sister again?”

  She was always doing that, trying to make me remember, as though I could ever forget. But time had blunted the pain of Myra’s loss to the point that, when I thought of her now, it was with fondness and joy and not the sting of bitterness.

  “She was impossibly fun and always wore a smile, was always dancing and playing that damnable flute of hers. She brought color to my world and to all those around her.”

  Ty smiled. “I think I would like her, if she’s anything like you.”

  I sighed. “It seems a dream now to ever believe we could leave this place. A part of me isn’t certain I’d want to. I’m not sure I’d understand that world anymore. In here, there is so much peace and quiet.”

  “I never imagined I’d hear a satyr wishing for quiet,” she teased, and I grinned.

  “Yes. Well, the impossible does happen now and again.”

  “But you do know, Petra, that should we ever leave this place and return to Kingdom, no time will have passed there at all. It will be this would, not that one, that becomes the dream. This place is not real. Not really.”

  I stopped walking, but clung fast to the golden thread. She noticed and paused as well, turning around to face me but still keeping hold of her section of thread.

  She cocked her head, giving me that curious look that I’d grown so fond of through the years. There’d been periods of time when Tymanon and I hadn’t spoken to each other for days, sometimes weeks, not because we’d grown angry with one another or even bored.