Paranormal Chaos

by Joshua Roots

  She descended slowly, nearly floating down the stairs with grace. Our entourage parted as she approached, bowing their heads as she passed. Steve lowered his head as well. I followed suit, noting that unlike the Minotaurs around us, she smelled of scented oils and honey.

  “Stephanos,” she whispered, placing a hand on Steve’s cheek and lifting his face.

  “What the what?” I asked, glancing at my friend.

  Both he and the female ignored me.

  “Hello, Alpha,” he replied in a voice devoid of emotion.

  She gazed at him, her golden eyes glistening with the barest hint of tears. Then she turned to the crowd. “This is a night for rejoicing,” she bellowed, her voice booming across the town. “We shall feast in his celebration, for my son has come home. All hail the Alpha’s Heir.”

  The streets erupted into joyful pandemonium. I stared at Steve, my eyes wide and mouth open.

  He just shrugged. “I told you it was a long story.”

  Chapter 8

  Europa

  “And so Minos demanded sacrifice from his enemies in Athens: seven men and seven women, all virgins. Every year they were to enter the Labyrinth alone, to face the maze. And to feed the creature who waited for them at its center.”

  —The Legend of Ariadne

  What the Minotaurs lacked in deodorant they more than made up for in food. Steam rose from the mounds of venison, rabbit and various other meats I couldn’t identify while casks of ale flowed like waterfalls.

  The size of an airplane hangar, the banquet hall seemed to go on for miles. The majority of the village was crammed into rows upon rows of tables, each packed with enough food to feed several armies. Minotaurs chatted loudly with one another in a language that was completely unfamiliar to me. With long vowels and hard consonants, it had a gruff, complex quality that might have been intriguing to listen to at a lower decibel.

  Steve and I were seated at a head table with the Alpha, named Europa, and a handful of her chosen relatives. Everyone had been polite since our arrival, but the sideways glances I kept getting were unnerving. I didn’t sense fear so much as caution.

  Not that I should have been surprised. Humans and Minotaurs had little interaction over the past few thousand years, so my presence in their homeland must have been unnerving. Adding into the equation was my role as the flag bearer for the Council. I was a figurehead of sorts, with all the power and authority that went with it.

  Whatever the hell that meant in Minotaur Land.

  Apparently it didn’t mean much, at least not yet. In the hours since our arrival, I’d been treated to an epic level of stiff-arming by Europa’s people whenever I asked for a meeting. It irked me at first, but I also had to keep my expectations in check. Europa had reached out to us indirectly, so she wasn’t about to blatantly air her dirty laundry. She’d call on me when the time was right. Until then, I was nothing more than a straphanger to my buddy.

  At least the downtime allowed me the chance to repair my parka, although my sewing skills left a lot to be desired.

  But while I was getting the DC Sunshine Treatment, as we called it back home, Steve had been paraded around like a rock star. Minotaurs from all over the homeland, many from smaller villages nearby, showed up to welcome him. And like groupies, they hung on his every word, begged him to bless their babies, and basically rolled out the red carpet for him.

  That, in and of itself, was horrifically awkward. In all the time I’d known Steve, he’d never gone into details about his family. But the way he’d acted, I’d just assumed there was nothing but evil between them. Hell, the guy had even said there was bad blood.

  And yet, there we were, at the seat of honor for the clan, getting doted on by kin and servants alike.

  Because of my official status, I should have acted more political and engaged my table-mates in conversation. Having eaten mostly jerky for the past couple of days, I instead focused on the feast before me, devouring everything I could get my hands on. My tongue rejoiced at the taste of exotic spices and rich marinades. I savored each dish that hit my palate until my stomach finally cried “Uncle.” With my hunger sated, I sat back and drank in my surroundings.

  The Minotaurs were, in a word, vibrant. They swore violently at one another, sang poorly, and on several occasions, literally locked horns. Europa’s guards spent the majority of the feast breaking up fights and kicking rowdy partiers out of the hall. Everyone, it seemed, was having a jolly good time.

  Yet the more I watched the room, the more I sensed a division among the citizens. Narrowed, judgmental glares or snarky whispers whenever certain Minotaurs passed by certain tables. It was like eating in a bestial high school cafeteria.

  Apparently humans and Minotaurs had a lot more in common than we thought.

  But while I was studying the social rift, struggling to figure out who was on what side, Steve was unusually quiet. More startling, he merely picked at his food. Ever since we’d arrived he’d been off-kilter. Remote. Closed off.

  I didn’t doubt something had happened between him and his clan, but watching the scene play out made me wonder if the feud wasn’t one-sided. Minotaur after Minotaur approached to wish him well or show him their newest offspring. The guy was a celebrity among his people.

  A brooding, angsty celebrity.

  I leaned over to my BFF. “Hey.”

  He blinked. “What?”

  I smiled, trying to pretend his neutral tone didn’t sting a little. “You okay?”

  “Yeah.”

  “A little overwhelming?”

  For the first time since we’d entered his homeland, he smiled. It was small, but there. “You could say that.”

  I relaxed a little, grateful that my friend was still inside this stoic shell. “Imagine how I feel.”

  “Yeah, sorry about all this. You talk to your dad yet?” he asked, quickly shifting gears.

  “I did. He wasn’t too happy with the results of our trip to the Centaur camp, but agreed with your take on the situation.”

  “That’s good.”

  Before I could get more out of him, something tugged on my sleeve. I turned, smiling at the small Minotaur by my side. Her pigtails were braided with thin leather straps and wound around the nubs of her horns. Her eyes, tiny and black, blinked up at me.

  “Are you really a human?” she asked in an accented voice so cute I wanted to gobble her up. I was also surprised she spoke my language.

  I held up my hand, squinting as I examined it. “I think so.”

  The girl giggled but scampered away when a large Minotaur approached the table. He was tall, yet surprisingly thin compared to the rest of his species. He wore an elegant tunic of dark red and brown that was trimmed with gold. His horns were the color of midnight and polished to a shine.

  “You are something of an enigma, Warlock Shifter,” the newcomer said with a smile that radiated genuine warmth. I basked in the glow, thankful for an honest, open emotion. “Most of our people have heard of your kind, but never seen you up close.”

  “My kind?” I asked, but the Minotaur was already focused on Europa.

  She rose to greet him. Her smile was strained and there was no joy in her eyes. “Makha.”

  He dipped his head. “Apologies for my poor manners, Alpha. I meant no offense. I merely wanted to introduce myself to our guest.”

  “Of course,” Europa replied evenly. But while her voice was smooth, there was no denying the stiffness in her neck muscles. “Warlock Shifter, this is Makha, one of my euphors.”

  “Pleasure to meet you.” I held out my hand, which was instantly swallowed by his.

  “It is an honor to meet you.”

  I smiled, gritting my teeth as he crushed most of my delicate bones. It took every ounce of willpower not to rub my palm when he released me
.

  “Pardon my ignorance,” I said, “but I’m not familiar with your title.”

  “Euphors are spiritual and political leaders for the clan,” Europa answered for him. “In times of great strife, they are the Alpha’s most trusted advisors.”

  “You are too kind,” Makha replied, his voice tight. He placed three fingers against his heart. “Your words honor me and my kin.”

  Europa returned the gesture.

  “Speaking of which,” he continued. “I should rejoin them. Warlock.” He made his three-finger salute to me, then nodded once more to Europa. “Alpha.”

  Steve’s mom bowed her head graciously, but the muscles in her jaw flexed and she stood a heartbeat too long before sitting. Her eyes were cold and lifeless as she watched him depart.

  Apparently I wasn’t the only one aware of the situation. The hall had quieted dramatically, with most of the partiers trying to make it look like they weren’t watching the encounter. It wasn’t until Makha sat at his table that the noise returned to its previous level.

  I glanced at Steve as the friction in the air slowly faded. “Well, that was awkward.”

  He studied the euphor, but didn’t reply

  The remainder of the feast dragged on, partially because of the weird vibe created by the interaction between Europa and Makha and partially because Steve was about as much fun as a barrel of eels. Eventually his monosyllabic responses to my attempts at conversation grew tiresome. With my belly full and no one to talk with, I politely excused myself.

  Much like when Makha had departed the head table, my exit caused a relative hush to fall over the crowd. I could feel the eyes on me as I walked between the tables, trying my best to smile and be cordial. In response, I received nothing but stunned expressions.

  My eyes watered as a brutal gale greeted me outside. Thankfully, the walk from the banquet hall to the private residence Steve and I shared was mercifully short. Even better, the hut was blissfully warm. The large fireplace opposite the twin piles of bedding crackled as it poured heat into the room and into my bones. I shook the snow from my boots, then stood by the fire in an effort to melt away the chill that had seeped into me.

  Outside the wind howled. My hut creaked as a draft bled through the cracks in the insulation. Without Steve around, I suddenly felt very alone. And exposed.

  The sat phone was still sitting on the bed where I’d tossed it earlier after I’d called Dad with my update. I grabbed it and punched in Quinn’s number. Four rings later, she picked up.

  “Hey, babe,” I said. “Man, do I miss you.”

  “Wow. You sure know how to make a girl feel important, Warlock Shifter.”

  Noise like a thumping bass boomed in the background. People cheered and sang, mostly off-key.

  “Holy cow, that’s a lot of racket.”

  “Yeah. It’s pretty loud here.”

  I grinned. “You enjoying a girls’ night out?”

  The other end was silent for a moment.

  “Quinn?”

  “I’m—uh—not in the DC. I’m with the Bookworm clan.”

  It was my turn to be silent.

  “First human visitor we’ve had in years,” someone cried in the background. “And what a babe, too.”

  More cheers.

  “Quiet down, guys,” Quinn admonished. Then to me, “Surprise.”

  “I’m betting this isn’t a vacation.”

  She sighed. “It’s not. The Council received a secession letter from the Satyrs yesterday.”

  The bottom dropped out of my stomach. “Oh crap.”

  “Yeah. Not good at all. The Elders decided they were sick of being reactive, so a bunch of us were sent to the various clans to shore up support for the treaty. I got the Bookworms.”

  Cheers erupted, but were immediately quieted by Quinn.

  “I’m sorry, these guys love to party. They haven’t stopped since I arrived.”

  “It’s okay. But why you? No offense, but you’re still in training, and there must be dozens of Councilmembers chomping at the bit for a mission like that.”

  “Not sure, but your dad said it had something to do with me being one of the few people the Elders could depend on.”

  That certainly made sense. The Council had recently taken a beating in the trust department, but Quinn had literally risked her life for them on multiple occasions. Still, I bet it ruffled the feathers of the stodgy old-timers.

  “Well, I’m glad the Elders are willing to offer this to you,” I said.

  “Honestly, so am I. Makes me think that I’ve finally shaken off the yoke of my family history.”

  “The Council looking beyond someone’s past? Shocking.”

  She laughed.

  “So, last I heard, the Bookworms were located somewhere in Tennessee.”

  “They are. South of nowhere, to be exact.”

  My hut shuddered once again from the wind.

  “I am officially jealous,” I grumbled.

  “Wish you were here, too, babe. I bought the most adorable new coat for this trip that you really need to see me in.” She lowered her voice. “Maybe you can see me out of it when we both get back to DC.”

  I warmed all over and started to offer a very clever, yet slightly inappropriate response, but the ruckus behind her was beginning to drown her out.

  “Quinn, come on,” a different Bookworm shouted. “Get off the phone.”

  She sighed. “Apparently they won’t let me have you to myself. Maybe I can sneak in a few minutes tomorrow.”

  “I’d like that.”

  “Me too. Miss your butt.”

  The line went dead.

  I sat there, listening to the silence in my ear.

  “I also wanted to tell you that I love you,” I finally said, but the only response was the wind.

  For a moment, I debated calling her back. The more I thought about it, however, the more I realized that was a terrible idea. Quinn deserved to be romanced with flowers and candies and a million other things a guy is supposed to do to make a woman feel special. She sure as hell didn’t deserve to have the L-Bomb dropped on her over the freakin’ phone.

  Dammit, why was love such a complex, winding path?

  I placed a fist on my forehead. “Sometimes you’re an idiot, Marcus.”

  “Agreed.”

  I spun around, instinctively dropping into a defensive crouch. Steve raised his eyebrows.

  “A little slow, but you’re getting better.”

  I rose, my heart thumping rapidly in my chest. “Dude. Don’t do that.”

  He leaned against the doorframe. “No one is going to attack you here. You’re an official representative of the Delwinn Council. As such, you’re protected under ancient Minotaur law.”

  “Really?”

  He shrugged. “In theory, yes. Even with the secession notice, we abide by an ancient code of honor, duty, blah, blah, blah. But there are always those who like to color outside the lines.”

  “That doesn’t make me feel better.”

  “Good. You can never go wrong staying alert. Sometimes it’s healthy to be paranoid.”

  “Noted. Also, terrifying.” I tried to relax. My body wouldn’t listen. “So, how was the rest of dinner?”

  “Stupid. Don’t get me wrong, I love a good feast as much as I love a good brawl. I just hate all the attention.”

  I smiled. “I’m glad to see the old Steve is back.”

  He grimaced. “Well, I’m drunk, so that helps.” He rubbed his eyes, then yawned. “Come on. The Alpha wants to talk to us.”

  Finally, I thought, keeping my relief to myself. I reached for my sword, but common sense told me that was a bad idea. Instead, I tossed the phone on the bed once more, grabbed my parka, and followe
d my friend out into the cold.

  * * *

  Much like mine and Steve’s quarters, the Alpha’s home was larger than I anticipated. Unlike ours, however, hers had a pair of armored guards still posted outside. A third sat in a nearby watchtower, enormous bow in hand.

  The Minotaurs dipped their heads as we approached.

  “Greetings, Heir.”

  I, however, received long, wary glares.

  “He’s with me,” Steve said.

  The Minotaurs looked me over suspiciously. “No weapons?” the one on the right asked.

  Steve waved them aside. “Guys, I wouldn’t bring him to the Alpha if I thought he would or even could murder her.”

  Apparently that was good enough, because the one on the right tapped on the door. It opened immediately and a tall, svelte female smiled.

  “Good evening, Heir.” She lowered her gaze. “The Alpha is pleased you and the Warlock are here.”

  “I’m all sorts of excited myself,” Steve grumbled and ushered me inside.

  The interior of Europa’s house was warm to the point of stifling. Paintings of Minotaurs and humans locked in gruesome combat with huge, thin creatures hung in the entry hall. The images were faded and the canvas cracked, but the scenes were no less graphic. Man and monster butchered one another on open plains, mountainous terrain and within city walls.

  Interspersed among the gory artwork were ancient brutal weapons. I paused to examine a short spear. The wooden shaft was chipped and the tip covered in what appeared to be dried blood.

  Morbid as the weapon was, I couldn’t help stare in awe at it. What battles had this thing participated in? Who had carried it? And who, or what, had fallen to its wicked point?

  “Dude,” Steve hissed.

  I pulled my attention away from the spear and jogged to catch up. “Sorry,” I whispered. Steve just glared.

  Our guide led us through another set of wide weapon-filled halls before showing us to a huge doorway.