by Joshua Roots
“You just spent the last five minutes lambasting me for saving them.”
“I know and I’m sorry. Yes, I’m pissed, but this goes way deeper than what you did today. You’re just getting the brunt of my frustrations. I’ve been all sorts of conflicted since getting here, pulled in different directions by the expectations placed upon me by my people and the sheer stupidity of our actions. Or inactions like we saw today.” He blew out a long breath, then shook his head. “Crap like this is what drove me out of here. My people are so willing to sacrifice our own for the sake of tradition and honor, yet we blanch at the idea that maybe we can be greater than our ancient legends. That eats at a person after a while, yet no one is willing to actually implement change. Eventually you either fall in line with everyone else or you have to blaze your own trail.”
“You tried to help your people, though.”
He stared into the fire, his face lined and weary. “For a while I thought there was actually a chance I could make a difference. Have my voice heard. A few folks even agreed with and encouraged me. Then I realized I was just banging my head against a wall, so I moved on.”
My heart ached for my friend. How awful to see the change needed for your people only to find that the majority either didn’t care or weren’t motivated enough to make it.
“What do you think the Alpha will do with Enneticia and the kids?” I asked, unable to shake the dark cloud that had been over my soul since Europa’s dire proclamation.
“I honestly don’t know. The Alpha might surprise us all and brush this one off, but history doesn’t make that a likely outcome.”
I cursed under my breath.
“You were caught between Scylla and Charybdis, dude,” Steve offered. “My people might not get that, but at least I do. If you hadn’t done anything, those kids would have died and that guilt would have eaten at you. Yet going to their aid may have screwed them and Enneticia. Sometimes there’s simply no way to win when it comes to Minotaur traditions.”
I shook my head. “Still, I should have given your laws more consideration, especially since I’m trying to prevent you all from breaking the treaty.”
“Perhaps, but a lot of them are stupid. As much as the law might not agree with your actions, the fact remains that two kids are alive tonight, eating dinner with their family because of you. We can always fix the politics of this later, but you can never bring back the dead.”
Relief flooded my system. I’d been so focused on the potential damage that I’d nearly forgotten that fact.
He chuckled softly. “The Alpha was right: this will be one of the most memorable runs in history. Not only did a human wind up inside, but you saved two kids. And you helped defeat the Hydra. No matter what, the clan will talk about this for generations to come.”
“I guess some good can come out of all this, eh?”
He gave me a sideways glance. “Whether or not that’s a good thing will be determined by the euphors.”
“Anything we can do?”
He huffed. “Just wait.”
If there was one thing I absolutely hated in this world, other than Council bureaucracy, it was waiting. With my shoulder throbbing like it was about to detonate, time dragged even slower. Steve and I attempted small talk, but eventually we drifted into silence.
A knock on our door startled both of us. Steve smoothed the fur around his snout, then answered it.
“Your presence is requested,” the heavily armed guard said. From the hard expression carved into his face, “no” wasn’t an option. I peeled myself out of bed slowly, struggling into a long-sleeve shirt. I eased into my poor, battered coat, then followed Steve out the door.
Like the previous night, the air was bitterly cold and the wind unrelenting.
Thankfully, the walk to our destination was short. We approached a thatch-roofed structure with multiple guards outside. They saluted Steve as we entered the building.
The interior was large and opened to a single circular room. Chaise lounges filled a small pit where a fire smoldered. Smoke rose from the embers, drifting lazily through a hole in the roof.
Draped across the chaise were seven Minotaurs in regal garb. Each wore sparkling jewelry and carried ornate weapons. Gray dotted the majority of snouts. I recognized Europa and Makha. The former was stoic while the latter dipped his head to greet us.
“Heir.” He offered Steve the traditional salute. Steve repeated the gesture, then turned to the Alpha.
“You rang?”
“Good evening, Stephanos. Warlock.” She said my title like she was swallowing lemon juice. “Thank you for joining us.”
“Didn’t have much of an option,” I muttered under my breath.
“We asked you here,” she continued, apparently missing my comment, “because you, Warlock Shifter, have placed this body in a very disturbing predicament. And while I thought a decision had already been made, my euphors feel we should hear from you before formalizing anything. I assume you have no issue with this.”
I shook my head. “None.”
“Good. Now, if you would be so kind, please explain why you opted to violate Minotaur tradition and involve yourself in the Labyrinth.”
A million reasons came to my mind, but none held more water than the truth. “Because it was the right thing to do.”
“Please elaborate,” one of the euphors insisted. She was large and muscular with light gray fur and pale skin.
“Two kids fell into the Labyrinth. Steve informed me that Minotaur law doesn’t allow interference by the clan. But I am not a Minotaur, and my laws, my moral obligation and sworn duties as a member of the Shifter family, require me to protect those who cannot protect themselves. Had I allowed them to die, I would have violated a personal and family code. Besides, once I was in the Labyrinth, I was subject to your rules of surviving it.”
“Amazingly, you did,” another offered. “Albeit through nontraditional means.”
“It was not a call he was allowed to make,” a third argued. “Our traditions are for our people alone. He had no right to jeopardize Enneticia’s run or her chances of a successful completion.”
“I believe you’ll find our laws and traditions are lacking on the matter of humans.”
Everyone turned to Makha.
“Would the Alpha be so kind as to grant me the floor?”
Europa maintained her cool despite the tightening of her eyes. “Of course, Makha. Please continue.”
He smiled like he’d just won big at the slot machines. “The laws regarding the Labyrinth are very specific about involvement, but from Minotaurs. They were not written to include other races because we never considered an outsider might participate. As such, there’s nothing that would unequivocally prevent another species from entering. Considering the Warlock did so voluntarily, he did not, in fact, violate anything.”
“He certainly broke the spirit of our law,” Europa replied.
“Which means nothing aside from the fact that we think it’s wrong. Without the written verbiage, we lack the objectivity to address a situation like this from a legal standpoint. Simply put, we failed to take humans into account. Our people, and Warlock Shifter here, deserve better than that.”
The area around the Alpha’s eyes tightened.
“The human availed himself upon the run,” Gray Lady retorted. “Participated in the killing of the Hydra. That, in and of itself, should negate Enneticia’s victory.”
Another chimed in. “She brought shame upon her kin by allowing him to help her.”
“Did she?” Makha asked. “Or did she bring even greater honor?”
The entire room went silent. Makha waited, letting his words hang in the air.
“What do you mean?” Europa finally asked.
“We’ve all witnessed Minotaurs joining a run, eit
her voluntarily or not. Since the Labyrinth adapts based on the number of challengers, those who survived were granted the same accolades as those who made their runs alone. How is this any different?”
The other euphors looked to one another, expressions of doubt beginning to filter onto their faces. As if sensing blood in the water, Makha pounced.
“The Labyrinth adjusted for the presence of all four individuals, providing an equitable level of trials. While Warlock Shifter may have dealt with some of the threat, the fact remains that it was Enneticia who vanquished the Hydra.”
Gray Lady frowned. “But his involvement—”
“Was minimal at best. A distraction. Enneticia ended the creature’s life. She was the one who delivered the killing blow.”
Gray Lady started to respond, but Europa held up a hand. “Pareia makes a valid argument. Yes, Enneticia killed the Hydra, but she should have been defeated. She failed to maintain control of her weapon during the final battle and was slowly losing ground before this human intervened.”
“This human,” Makha countered, waving a hand in my direction, “was also brave enough to face his own trial as well as assist the young warrior.”
Several euphors nodded in agreement. Both Europa and the lady named Pareia frowned.
“I believe that’s her point,” Europa said. “He had no right to assist her in the first place.”
Makha looked her dead in the eyes. “And why is that?”
“Because he is an outsider.”
Europa’s rival grinned. “And that is exactly my point, Alpha. We’ve spent countless generations fearing humans, yet we allow this one, a representative of the Delwinn Council, into our homeland. And we—” he raised his eyebrows at Europa “—also invited him to a running of the Labyrinth without providing him a clear understanding of the rules involved. Rules that do not encompass his species at all. Doesn’t that make us as culpable for his mistake as anyone?”
No one replied, either because they agreed with him or because they could sense the fire burning in the Alpha’s soul. Makha, however, pressed on.
“The situation seems rather basic to me. When Warlock Shifter was presented with a situation of life and death, he obeyed the laws of his clan. He willingly risked his own life to save two, even three, beings he didn’t know. And, when faced with the new threats the Labyrinth generated because of his presence, he performed admirably. Defeating those creatures is a challenge even for our own kind. We shouldn’t discount these accomplishments simply because we lack a clear understanding of our own policies.”
More nods.
“But a greater honor,” he continued, building upon the steam of apparent support, “is the fact that he allowed the two offspring a chance to prove their own worth to the clan. Younglings with no formal training learned how to work with a species they’ve only heard about in legends. They defended Warlock Shifter and ultimately helped eliminate a threat. No—” Makha’s voice filled with authority and pride “—I say that what happened today, while unusual, was nothing but honorable for every single creature involved.”
Damn, this guy was good. He held everyone’s attention as he weaved his reasoning into their minds. The way Steve had made it sound, my actions should have brought shame, yet a majority appeared to think otherwise. Hell, I’d been there and even I was now beginning to believe I’d kicked some serious ass.
Europa scanned the room, struggling to maintain her neutral expression. I had no doubt she wanted nothing more than to toss me and everyone I’d helped earlier into the nearest pit. Yet she had to be weighing the political ramifications of doing so. Yes, she was the final authority for her clan, but a person was only as powerful as the support base that provided them that authority. Aside from Pareia and maybe one other, the rest of the euphors seemed to be leaning in favor of Makha.
Holy hell, no wonder she was concerned. I might not know the details of Minotaur politics, but in the human world, if you can’t keep your people convinced that you’re the bee’s knees, you won’t stay in office very long.
Then again, Makha seemed far more progressive with his ideals than I had been led to believe, so perhaps that wasn’t a bad thing. After all, half his argument was spent pointing out loopholes in Minotaur law and the dangers of being isolationists. If this whole leadership situation went south and Makha took over as Alpha, perhaps he’d be less resistant to the Council and the Reformation Treaty.
Crap, I didn’t want to think like that, especially because of Steve’s connection with Europa. But dammit, I couldn’t help wondering. Europa was begrudgingly willing to remain part of the treaty if I helped knock Makha down, but was that really in my best interest or the best interest of her people? What happened down the road when humanity eventually stumbled into Minotaur Land en masse? Would we benefit more from a leader who was afraid of integration and modernization or one who lauded it?
Having lived through the past twenty years of changes between the Council and the Normal world, I knew firsthand the dangers of the former.
“Perhaps this situation is worth reconsidering,” the Alpha said after a long silence. “I’m willing to agree that Enneticia successfully navigated the majority of the Labyrinth without outside help and that she did, in fact, defeat the Hydra.” She took a long, careful breath. “Based on the discussion here this evening, it appears her honor remains intact. As such, we’ll host the traditional acceptance ceremony tomorrow to acknowledge her accomplishment.”
I caught a slight grin on Makha’s lips.
“Thank you for allowing us to have such a...vibrant discussion this evening,” the Alpha continued. Her words were grateful, but her tone was anything but.
The euphors stood as she rose to her feet.
“Once again, my deepest gratitude for your counsel.” She offered the group their secret-squirrel bat-signal. Everyone responded in kind, then waited as Europa departed. She glared at me as she passed, her eyes orbs of amber fire. I shuddered involuntarily.
Once she was gone, the euphors wasted no time exiting themselves. One second the room was filled with Minotaurs, the next it was empty save for me, Steve and Makha. He smiled at us, bowing his head slightly as he approached.
“Heir. Warlock.”
“Good evening, Makha,” I said. “Quite an interesting day.”
“Indeed. But I should apologize for my insolence,” he added. “I should not engage in conversation with you without consulting the Alpha first.” He turned to Steve. “Unless the Heir is willing to make an exception on her behalf.”
My buddy shrugged. “Sure. What could go wrong?”
The euphor smiled approvingly. “Such a clever clansman. Our people will benefit from your leadership one day.”
Steve grunted.
Makha shifted his attention to me. “I wanted to thank you personally for your actions today. It took courage to enter the Labyrinth.”
“Courage had nothing to do with it. I was operating on instinct and stupidity.”
He frowned. “You believe yourself in error despite all that was said here this evening?”
“Not at all,” I replied quickly. “But I fully recognize that I literally leaped without looking. Or thinking. Steve told me not to interfere, but I acted anyway.”
“Because you wished to save what you saw as innocent lives.”
“Yes.”
“An admirable quality. My kind doesn’t view younglings in the great maze as innocents, but rather as participants. How they entered the Labyrinth doesn’t matter and the traditions are not questioned. You, however, brought an outsider’s view to our laws. As we saw this evening, perhaps the time has come to reexamine them.”
“I suppose.”
“Do your people question your laws?”
“All the time,” I admitted. “You’d be surprised how many antiquated rules a
nd regulations are still on the books, many of which are generations out of date or downright moronic. Sometimes it’s a Herculean effort to fix them, but we do what we can when we can.”
“Our people should be as willing. Wouldn’t you agree?”
“I am woefully ignorant about your clan, so I’m not in a position to comment on your society.”
“Fair enough,” he replied. “Perhaps that’s something we can remedy before you must leave us.”
I smiled. “I’d like that.”
“As would I. Now then, the hour is late and you must heal.” He took a step, then paused. “Perhaps you might consider joining me at my camp tomorrow evening? There are matters I wish to discuss that I believe are of mutual interest to both our people.”
Well, well, well. Maybe my foray into the Maze of Stupid hadn’t been a complete catastrophe after all.
“I’d be honored,” I said. “Steve?”
“Fine.”
Based on the tension in his voice, I doubted that was the right word for it, but this was a bright spot in an otherwise disaster-filled day, so I was willing to table his reaction in favor of some quality time with Makha. Hopefully that meant more laughter and fewer pointy objects or mythical creatures trying to rip my face off.
The euphor grinned. “Excellent. Heir, you remember the way, yes?”
“Yup.”
“Good, good. I shall see you at, say, moonrise?”
“We’ll be there with bells on,” I replied.
Makha cocked his head.
“It’s a human expression. Means we can’t wait.”
The Minotaur’s smile expanded. “Ah. A lovely expression. I look forward to seeing you and your bells soon.” He saluted us, then departed posthaste.
With all the playmakers gone, the council chambers felt cold and lifeless. Yet that was nothing compared to the chill coming off of my friend.
