Life

by Rosie Scott

  “What is up with Hammerton and its meddling beasts?” Cerin seethed, kicking a body off of his scythe when the blade refused to leave the woman's spine.

  “It hasn't meddled yet,” Nyx retorted, flicking her daggers quickly toward the ground to clear them of some blood.

  “Give it time,” I replied, my eyes on the tunnel directly across the chasm. As if the beast had heard us speaking of it, the shadow of a gargantuan, muscular biped emerged from the mines.

  Thirty-five

  The tortured wails of an enraged bull thundered sharply across walls of stone, followed quickly by heavy breaths and snorts of anger. As it walked the last few feet out of the tunnel, two massive, colossal horns scraped noisily across the high ceilings, making it rain dust and pieces of brittle rock. The beast lumbered forward from the shadows, multi-colored light from fire and fungi alike casting attention on grayish-brown fur that barely contained the secrets of unreasonably bulky muscle.

  I instantly recognized the beast, though I'd only seen its depiction in artwork. The minotaur was one of the most highly feared creatures of Hammerton, for it was attracted to the maze-like mines of the dwarves and was fiercely territorial. Little was known about the minotaur or its livelihood. A book I'd read many years ago about the history of particular beasts had noted that a female minotaur had never been found, so it was unknown how the creatures bred. As if to make matters worse, some feared that the beasts were spiritual in nature because they seemed to simply arrive in mines without anyone seeing them entering or leaving. Minotaurs had been killed by dwarves before in battles over territory, and the warriors who bested them were revered in all of Hammerton. That told me two things which boded well for us: for one thing, no matter how intimidating this creature was, we could kill it. Secondly, if the dwarves viewed this beast with such superstition, besting it could hand us victory here on a platter.

  The minotaur trudged out the edge of the chasm on backward knees, its cloven hooves clopping loudly over stone. Many of the dwarves still not out of the way screamed in fear. The Vhiri were intimidated, but not as fearful since they held no superstitions about the beast even if they recognized it. The intelligence of the minotaur had not been overstated, for as it walked into the brighter light, I saw it wielded two weapons like a man. One was a double-sided ax that nearly scraped along the ground on its right side, and the other was a heavy chain that wrapped multiple times around its muscular body and snaked around its left arm. With every step it took, the chains rattled like a fearsome warning. Both weapons were probably stolen from the dwarves, for the ax was of magnificent dwarven metal-working, and the chain appeared to have been ripped from the very foundation of a mine shaft.

  The muscles of the beast were eerily humanoid. Human-like nipples dotted the bottom of each pectoralis, and its abdomen muscles were so well-defined that they appeared to be simple mounds rising over its stomach. Its thighs were so brawny that it was a wonder it could walk at all without risking injury to its hanging genitalia.

  “Look at the balls on that thing!” Nyx exclaimed, her words a sharp contrast to the screaming fear of the dwarves.

  “Just because your mouth is close to your brain doesn't mean that every thought needs to be vocalized,” Azazel replied, mostly in jest.

  I spoke up, “The problem is that Nyx uses her mouth much more than she uses her brain.”

  Nyx burst into laughter, though she said, “Look at those goods, Kai! Tell me you aren't just the tiniest bit curious.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “In killing it, yes. I don't even want to ask where your mind was going.”

  “Aww, I think somethin' that big would kill ya, love,” Maggie commented, though she stared at the creature, impressed. “Though my little ma lived for quite a few years after bein' with my giant of a father, so maybe I have a chance of survivin' it.”

  “I'll fight you for it,” Nyx goaded.

  “Sure thing,” Maggie agreed.

  Cerin glared over at the two women in disbelief. “Can we not?”

  I burst into laughter at my lover's amused puzzlement. “You're just jealous,” I teased him.

  Cerin huffed with humor. “Why would I be? You've certainly never complained.”

  “Hell no, I haven't,” I agreed happily.

  “Get a room,” Nyx pestered us, just as the caverns shook with a roar.

  The minotaur surveyed the scene of battle, taking note of the locations of troops with its intelligent and discerning eyes. Much like the dragon in Olympia, this beast appeared to have been lured out to battle by a particular annoyance. The minotaur's black eyes were staring straight across the giant gap and toward our bridge, where the roars and animalistic grunts of the beastmen had its full attention. Beasts were rare underground, so perhaps it felt threatened by their presence.

  Without any warning, the minotaur broke out into a run along the right side path across the gorge. Soldiers screamed and scattered as it rushed toward our army, and then it continued straight through it. The Vhiri were nothing more than yellow and black shrapnel as they flew outward from the beast's path, some of the soldiers hit so hard they tumbled over the stone border into the chasm below. The minotaur was crushing and injuring the Eteri Army left and right, but it wasn't even trying. My heart thudded fiercely in my chest as I realized it was headed through the army just to get to our bridge.

  “Calder!” My scream was repeated as the stone mimicked it until it faded over time. Two blood-red reptilian eyes searched through legions of beastmen until they landed on me. I pointed back to the minotaur still rampaging through elves and dwarves alike and shouted, “It is headed for the beasts!”

  Calder turned toward the nearest soldiers, hissing so loudly that spittle misted into the air. The beastmen close to him noticed, glancing up to follow their leader's eyes. The minotaur was extraordinarily strong, and though it overshadowed even the largest shapeshifters, they were our best bet at defeating it.

  Loud screams from dozens of voices faded with distance as more of our soldiers were thrown into the pit, their shadows smudges of black on the glowing teal of the chasm walls. The minotaur skidded to a stop at the bridge entrance. Only the Seran Renegades and beastmen were left on the overpass. The rest of the soldiers belonging to both armies had fled the immediate area.

  The minotaur's nostrils flared out with each labored exhale. It had trampled so many bodies that the fur of its lower half was dripping red. The entire corpse of a Vhiri mage was caught on its ankle after her stomach had been completely impaled by one cloven hoof. As the beast walked, the woman's lower body jolted independently from the other half, only still connected by outer skin and muscle. The extra weight didn't concern the brute in the slightest.

  Calder and his beastmen stood confidently like a blockade across the wide bridge. Calder hissed, and the beasts in line behind him replied with their own howls and roars.

  The minotaur tilted his head ever-so-slightly. Its left arm dangled to the ground, and it loosened its fingers. The end of its chain slowly unraveled from its arm until it began to curl and pile over the stone with excess. When it was entirely unfurled, the minotaur grasped it tightly again. Staring directly at the beastmen, it roared a final time, its head quaking with the pressure.

  Then it charged. The vibrations of its steps numbed my legs. Death bombs were thrown at the brute as it neared, and though clouds of black energy rose from its body to return to us, the minotaur did not fall. My head pounded with the pressure of the beast's power, yet it wasn't even fatigued.

  Calder crouched on all fours as the minotaur neared his troops, trembling with a new leeching high. He launched himself at the brute as it came upon him, catching one of its gigantic horns with his arms and holding tight. As the minotaur came to an abrupt halt, many beasts were shoved back around it. One hyena-kin was thrown over into the chasm when its slick claws failed to catch on the stone railing.

  Disturbed by watching beastmen get thrown to their deaths, Holter threw the pearly white bow I'
d given him to the side of the bridge, where it clattered against the stone barrier and came to a stop. Clothes and belongings were pulled off in a frenzy before he whispered, “Tranferra sel ti kin a blud.” The scout's desperate cries of pain from transforming rose to prominence above the chaos of battle.

  Calder hung onto the minotaur's horn, slashing at the side of its throat with the talons of one webbed hand. Multiple beasts swarmed the brute's legs, biting and scratching at the muscular limbs. The minotaur pulled its left hand far back in the air, swinging its chain around in circles a few times before whipping it forward. With combined strength and momentum, the chain lashed across the width of the bridge, ending its arc newly covered in blood.

  Two biped beastmen fell, roughly decapitated by loops of rusted iron. A snake-kin was caught on the chain and intertwined with it, hissing as it tried to free itself. With one simple jerk of the chain by its wielder, the reptile was severed in half, leaking blood from two stumps.

  I was too far from the minotaur to hit it with most spells, and I couldn't risk using enervat while it was surrounded. I built two ice shard spells, waiting with bated breath until the brute calmed its fury. Even still, the first shard crackled past the minotaur's torso, its momentum spinning it in the air several times before it shattered against the far cavern wall. The next icicle shot through the brute's left pectoralis. I'd hoped the hit would be fatal, but the minotaur's muscles were so voluminous they put up extra resistance and saved the heart.

  The brute stumbled forward when a bear-kin tore the better part of its calf muscle straight off the bone with gnashing teeth. The bite-sized gap audibly poured blood, and the minotaur nearly fell over, but it saved itself by reaching out and grasping the overpass barrier with both hands. In the process, its double-sided ax fell from its grasp, and Calder flipped over its head, hanging in front of the brute's face with one slipping hand.

  Azazel reached out beside me, using telekinesis to pull Calder toward us. I prepared the spell as well, and the energy connected to the lizard-kin just as the minotaur grabbed him by the waist, violently tugging him from his grasp on the horn.

  Calder hissed at the brute, flailing at its eyes with both clawed hands. One talon sunk deep into the minotaur's eyelid and punctured the organ beneath. With an ear-shattering roar, the minotaur jerked Calder free of his hold, and the stabbed eyelid tore straight off of the brute's skull, hanging loosely from one glistening nail. Free of its nuisance, the minotaur wasted no time in throwing Calder straight over the barrier into the abyss.

  The sputtering hiss of a reptile echoed off of the cavern walls as he fell. My hand was still out futilely, the telekinesis spell no longer connected to anything tangible. Only when my head rattled with an ache did I realize I was screaming Calder's name so loudly my esophagus felt torn.

  Azazel was yelling orders, but I couldn't ascertain the words. My chest was so congested with heartbreak I had trouble breathing. I longed for a rage. Much like during the Battle of Highland Pass, I felt so broken that I wanted to lose control. But I couldn't force such things.

  Stone was cold under my hands as I found myself looking over the side of the bridge, hoping to see a saving grace. Instead, all I saw were bodies floating in the lake hundreds of meters below. None of them were moving. From such a height, every fall was fatal. It didn't matter that Calder could breathe underwater, and it didn't matter he had been stronger as his blood-kin. It didn't even matter that he'd learned necromancy, for it took years of use before its anatomical benefits started to show.

  It will always be possible to die.

  Nausea overcame me as I turned from the edge. Sounds were muffled as I struggled to clear my mind. Even so, I could hear the last remnants of a hoarse scream of rage as Maggie rushed past me, intent on seeking revenge for Calder's death.

  Most of the beastmen scattered out of her path, happy to let the engineer take out her fury and give them a break. Maggie lowered her war hammer down by her right side as she ran. The minotaur pulled its chain back, whipping it around its head to gain momentum. But the beast's torn calf muscle caught it off balance, and the chain slung heavily back to its side.

  Maggie ran the last few meters toward the brute, using her momentum to swing the war hammer in an uppercut. The blunt weapon slammed straight up between the minotaur's thighs, breaking and collapsing its genitals with a spray of fluids. The angry roars of the brute turned to high-pitched cries, and it abruptly fell forward, knocking Maggie back.

  Mirrikh clattered through the other beastmen behind the minotaur, screeching angrily and lurching his stinger forward. The brute shook fiercely with trauma for a few seconds just before it stilled, paralyzed. As Mirrikh started cutting through its body with plated pincers, Maggie recovered and raised the hammer over her head with a roar nearly as intimidating as the minotaur's.

  Clunk! Clunk! Clunk! Smssh!

  My eyes watched distantly as Maggie reduced the brute's head to little more than red mush and broken horns. She continued even after it was long dead, smashing through the remaining gore until her large face was covered with the aftermath.

  I looked up in silence, my eyes scanning across the chasm and to the inner city. The battle was over, and we had won. Waves of soldiers clad in yellow were herding the remaining dwarves into groups of prisoners. I caught a glance of Altan's tall, bright form hurrying down the split path to the bridge. Few of the Sentinels had seen Leura's death, so I knew the burden to inform them of it fell to me. Not only that, but now that Calder was dead, Altan had lost both a protege and a good friend.

  The first Sentinel put his bronzed hands around his mouth just before the overpass and yelled, “What a save!”

  I said nothing. I couldn't bring myself to agree. The minotaur was dead, but so was one of my greatest friends. I wanted to fall asleep and never wake up.

  “Now's not really the time, Altan,” Cerin called back, his naturally rough voice thicker with his own mourning.

  “Not the time?” Altan laughed as he neared us. “Why's everybody so glum? This calls for a celebration! The Renegades never disappoint. Even birdboy's good for something!”

  Birdboy? I thought of Holter. I remembered that I hadn't seen him since he'd transformed earlier in the bridge fight. I turned to Altan. “Where is he?”

  Altan responded only by pointing one finger out over the outer chasm, so I followed his direction.

  My knees nearly gave out from under me. Yards away from the bridge and just beneath it, Holter rose slowly from the depths, dark wings flapping with steady, determined strokes. An injured but very much alive Calder dangled limply from the scout's scaled feet. Holter's talons were dug into Calder's torso and one of his legs, which hung at a broken angle.

  I hurried along the barrier as Holter delivered Calder to the safety of the bridge as gently as he could. I collapsed beside my friend, so relieved I felt light-headed. Calder's breaths were wheezy with trauma as they huffed through smaller reptilian nostrils, so I gave him the illusion spell to dull his senses. Seconds after that, he was transforming.

  Feet away, Holter finished his own transformation. I couldn't heal Calder yet as his body morphed, so I stood up and ran over to Holter, grabbing the younger man into a tight hug.

  “Thank you.” My voice was so thick with a confusing mixture of mourning and relief that it sounded masculine. Holter trembled with trauma and exertion as I squeezed him tight, so I put a hand up to the back of his head and dulled his pain.

  “I broke his leg,” Holter replied, sounding regretful. “He was falling so fast, and I didn't want to break his spine.”

  “A leg can be mended,” I said, burying my face in the scout's bare neck. “A death cannot. Thank you. I am so happy we have you.”

  “Holter's gonna be real happy he has you if you keep holding onto him that tight while he's naked, love.” Calder's jest was only undermined by his fatigue.

  Holter appeared a bit embarrassed when I finally pulled away from him. “I wasn't going to push you o
ff me,” he rambled, as an excuse.

  I laughed softly and shook my head. “I'm the one who hugged you. There's nothing to be ashamed of, Holter. I've fought with the beastmen for too long to bat an eye at nudity.” I glanced back at Calder. “I've hugged that bastard plenty of times after his transformations.”

  “And there's a reason I never shy away from it like he does,” Calder mused.

  “I don't care if you're injured or not, Calder,” Cerin began, “you're on the ground with a broken leg right now. It'd be way too easy for me to kick you.”

  “Then do it, skelly-lover,” Calder teased.

  “Don't kick him yet,” I pleaded, hurrying over to finally heal Calder's broken leg and the puncture wounds from Holter's talons. “I have to heal him first.” I lined up the break in Calder's leg, and he seemed relieved when he couldn't feel the pain through the illusion spell. Next, life magic spread over his blue skin, sinking into his flesh and traveling the short distance to mend his bone.

  “But then I can kick him?” Cerin clarified over my shoulder.

  “Absolutely,” I murmured, and my lover chuckled behind me. To Calder, I lowered my voice and added, “Cerin likes you, you know that? No matter how much he feigns irritation with you. We thought you were dead, and he was mourning as much as I.”

  Calder appeared thoughtful for a moment as if he wanted to make another joke but decided against it. “I think our constant bickering is proof we like each other, love. You know I tease people I like. Besides, I heard him talking before Holter brought me up here. I could tell he was affected.” His red eyes looked over my shoulder at someone behind me, and he added, “I also heard you order Holter to come after me as I fell.”

  Two footsteps padded closer just before Azazel replied, “It doesn't matter that I gave the order. He was in the midst of diving after you anyway.”

  Calder chuckled roughly and leaned his head back against the stone barrier. “Doesn't it matter, though? You hated my guts just a year ago. You could have ordered Holter to let me go.”