by Joshua Roots
He really was an impressive orator because I actually felt little better. “Thank you. Your words honor me.”
Makha bowed his head.
I copied him, then saw the blood dripping down his forearm. “You should have that treated.”
He laughed. “This graze is nothing. I’d rather my people remain focused on Turina. Besides, the tales I’ll be able to tell of this night will be well worth any scar that remains.”
One of the Mystics approached, head low. “Master,” he said quietly.
Makha squeezed my shoulder once again, then faced the Minotaur.
“What have the gods decreed?”
“She will live.”
Makha closed his eyes, moisture glistening at the edges. “A blessing, indeed.”
I too, felt a weight lift from my soul.
“We successfully removed the impaling limb and sealed the wound. I’m saddened to report that we can’t save her leg.”
The euphor opened his eyes once more. “There’s no apology required. Her injury shall be a constant reminder to our clan of her courage. She’ll bear the mark of triumph for the rest of her days. We should all be so lucky. You’ve done well and have honored your ancestors with your efforts. Much like the Creator has honored his.”
The Mystic bowed deeply. “Thank you, master.”
“Rise and tend to our sister. I’ll coordinate getting her home.”
The Minotaur stood, then made the three-finger salute to me. “Gods watch over you, Creator.”
I returned the gesture. “And you.”
He bowed his head, then walked quickly back to Turina.
“Pardon me a moment,” Makha said and waved two of his guards over. I watched, thoroughly impressed with how he handled the entire situation. He obviously loved his people and they damn near worshiped him. He oozed leadership, inspiring everyone around him with his compassion and grace.
“You okay?” Steve asked, interrupting my thoughts.
“No, but I will be. Pretty tired.”
“Physically or emotionally?”
“Both.”
He studied me for a moment, then watched the Mystics who were fashioning a makeshift litter to carry Turina. “Hell of a thing,” he said softly.
“Hell of a thing.”
Makha walked over to another set of guards, patting them on the shoulder.
“You ever wonder what the clan would be like under his command?”
“All the time,” Steve replied. “He’s a natural.”
“Your mom isn’t?”
“She is, but she doesn’t have the same aura of leadership like he does. Makha was a great warrior in his day before being chosen to be a euphor. The Alpha never had any direct combat experience. She inherited the clan at an early age and has guided our people from within the walls of our homeland ever since.”
“Do you think that’s the difference between them?”
He shrugged. “She’s a decent leader. Makha is an outstanding one. But they both love our people, so you’d think they’d be able to work out their differences.”
“Maybe they can.”
Makha watched as Melifinous gathered most of the guards and disappeared into the woods. Only the Mystics, the injured woman and her husband remained behind. Satisfied, the euphor walked back to us.
“Heir, Creator, I believe we’re ready to head back. My guards will travel ahead of us to ensure the way is clear. If you don’t mind, of course.”
“You don’t want to go with them?” I asked. “Might be safer than staying with us.”
“My place is with Turina. Besides, I’ve seen you and the Heir fight. I’m positive I’m in good hands.”
I smiled.
The Mystics hoisted the litter with the injured woman. “Ready, master.”
“We’ll lead the way.” He stepped confidently into the woods, eyes toward the camp buried deep within the trees.
The walk back was slow, but at least it was boring. Not that I minded since it was a good chance for me to enjoy some quiet time. Both to clear my head and to try and recover from the massive output of Skill. Tapping that much that quickly was the equivalent of sprinting for the first hour of a marathon. Without a connection to the environment, my battery was slow to recharge.
The rapid spool-down of adrenaline wasn’t helping. My legs were heavy and shook with exhaustion. My shoulder had even started aching once more. What I needed was a long, hot shower and a stiff drink. Not to mention a new sweater.
I was also going to call Quinn, no matter how early it was in Tennessee, and spill my guts. Glancing over my shoulder, I couldn’t help but empathize with Turina’s husband. Quinn had been grievously injured a while back and for a few moments, I’d thought she was dead. Nothing could comfort me. Not hugs from Mom or punching the wall. Nothing. When she finally pulled through, it was like a piece of me had returned.
Now here I was, escorting a guy who was going through the same thing. The difference between us, other than our species, was that his woman knew he loved her. Quinn might suspect it, much like I figured she loved me, but we hadn’t said it. And dammit, it was time.
The calm of the forest slowly gave way to noise in the distance. Firelight glowed near the perimeter of the Minotaur village while shadows moved between the trees. Cries of distress echoed as we approached, which caused my internal alarms to go to Red Alert.
I slowed as we neared, soaking in the scene before us. Bodies lay in the streets while fire consumed dozens of structures. A shout pierced the night as a Minotaur raced from a burning home, only to be cut down by an arrow.
Adrenaline kicked in at the sight of the attack, dumping renewed energy into my system. Instinctively, I drew my sword, but a firm hand grabbed me as I started toward the city.
“You need not trouble yourself with this, Creator,” Makha said evenly. “We’re handling the problem that you came here to solve.”
Chapter 13
No Good Deed
“And so the mighty Asterion fell to Theseus’s blade.”
—The Legend of Ariadne
I stared in shock at the combat filling the streets.
“What the hell is going on, Makha?” I asked, unable to tear my gaze from the carnage.
“We’re securing a future. For both our people.”
In the firelight, a pair of Minotaurs clashed swords. Their shadows danced as they hacked at one another. A parry, a snarl, and one fell to the other’s blade.
“You’re attacking our clansmen,” Steve whispered, finally finding his voice. “This—this is treason.”
Makha shook his head, sadness filling his eyes. “No, my old friend. This is survival.”
A squad of nearly twenty brown-and-red-armored warriors came around the side of a burning hut. The lead Minotaur saluted Makha as he approached.
“Welcome back, master.”
Makha returned the gesture. “I apologize for missing the initial attack. One of our own was grievously injured and required my attention. Report.”
“We have gained a foothold. Most of Europa’s forces are pinned down near her home, protecting her. Our numbers are greater, but we have not yet been able to break through their lines.”
“And the rest of the clan?”
“Some have fled, but the majority remains in their quarters. The few who are loyal to Europa and willing to fight are being dealt with as we speak.”
Makha nodded. “Excellent work. Now then, Turina is gravely wounded. Please escort her and our Mystics to the medicine hut. The rest of your troops here must see to the safety of the Heir and Creator.”
“What about you, master?”
“Once I find Melifinous I shall lead the assault against Europa’s stronghold.”
�
�He waits for you at your home.”
“Thank you. Inform our troops that I’m coming.”
The Minotaur saluted, then barked at his people. Half the squad surrounded the Mystics carrying Turina, moving with frightening speed as they hauled the small party away. Six of the guards encircled me and Steve. He started to move, but I gripped his forearm. When he looked down, I mouthed, “Wait.”
Makha turned to us. “I’m sorry for the suddenness of this, but it was imperative for your safety that neither of you remain in the village for the opening salvo. We can’t risk losing either of you to carelessness or ignorance among the various combatants. You’re both far too important to our cause. These troops will take you somewhere safe for the remainder of the battle. I’ll come for you once I’m positive you are no longer in danger.” He gave us the three-finger salute. “Gods watch over you both.” Then he was gone.
One of the guards waved us away from the noise of combat. “Heir, Creator, this way, please.”
We said nothing as our escorts led us down the side roads. All around us, shouts of combat or cries of death cut through the night air like knives. Rage boiled off Steve, washing over my senses in waves.
We maneuvered past a large grain store toward a row of quiet, dark huts. I glanced up at my friend and winked.
Steve was a blur. Bone and cartilage snapped with a sickening crunch in the blink of an eye. Two guards fell. The remaining Minotaurs spun, but I neutralized one with a bullet to the shin. He cried out in pain, gripping the shattered bone. Steve silenced him, then the rest of the group with the massive sledgehammers that were his fists.
As the dust settled on our surprise attack, I turned to him. “Sorry, but there were too many of them back there for us to take.”
“No, that was a good call.” He picked up two of the swords from the fallen guards, testing their weight in each hand. Satisfied, he removed the sheaths, belted them over his fanny pack, then slid the blades into place.
“So, where to?” I asked, checking the magazine of the Glock. Dammit, I needed a resupply soon.
“The Alpha.”
I glanced around. “There’s going to be a lot of opposition between us and her.”
“I know another way in.” As he stepped into the street, he gave the unconscious Minotaurs a pained look. “Why?”
We moved quickly but cautiously. Since the assault consumed most of the village, it was difficult to avoid detection. Every time Makha’s forces appeared, we ducked into shadows or behind piles of burning crap.
“We need to get back to our room,” I said as a large unit in brown and red jogged away. “All my spare ammo is in my pack.”
Steve shook his head. “The hut is too close to Makha’s forces. We’d be spotted before we’d get in.”
I cursed. “I’m low on Skill and only have one more full mag on me.”
“Then you better conserve both,” he replied, and pulled me into a small building.
My eyes struggled to adapt to the sudden darkness. Steve banged around, tossing furniture. I was about to ask what he was doing when the blinding light of a torch filled the room. Steve knelt, then jerked open a panel in the floor.
“In here.” He waved the torch at the hole. A large ladder disappeared into the darkness.
I descended quickly, reaching the cold stone ground a moment later. Steve swung in, closed the hatch, then slid down the ladder.
“Escape route?” I asked as he moved into the tunnel.
“You learn to live in paranoia when you’re in charge. There are a handful of these tunnels that connect to the Alpha’s home, the euphor chamber, and a couple other key locations. It provides us an exit, should we need it. Not that the Alpha herself would ever abandon her people. These are for the safety of the family.”
“Or for us to sneak back into those buildings.”
“Yup.”
The quiet of the passageway was disturbing, especially knowing that above us, Minotaurs waged a bloody civil war. I still couldn’t believe Makha would order an attack like that. What had motivated him to do something so brutal to his own people?
Eventually our route led to a central chamber with several branches leading in different directions. Steve ducked us down the left-most path. A minute later, we reached another ladder. He ascended it quickly, popped open a hatch, and glanced around. Then to me, “All clear.”
I shimmied up the ladder, exiting into a gargantuan pantry. Sacks of grains filled the racks on one side while various spices the other. Steve eased the door open, poking an eye through the crack. Satisfied we were in the clear, he shoved it open and sprinted through the kitchen. I was hot on his heels, keeping pace as best I could.
A guard appeared from a doorway and swung his blade. Steve intercepted it with one of his own, then drove a boot into the guy’s stomach. The Minotaur doubled over, but froze when Steve held his twin swords to his neck.
“You’d better be one of the good guys,” he snarled.
Relief flooded the guard’s face. “Heir. Thank the gods. We thought you were lost.”
Steve lowered his weapons, sliding one back into its sheath. “Obviously not. I need to speak with the Alpha immediately.”
“Of course.”
We followed him through the house and into Europa’s large sitting room. Dressed in gold armor and carrying a wicked sword, she was in deep discussion with Lythos. She turned as we entered and her face illuminated.
“Stephanos.” She moved quickly to us, wrapping her son in her arms. “I feared the worst.”
Steve patted her gently. “I’m fine.”
She pulled away, frowning. “The tunnels?”
“Yes.”
“Clever boy.” Then to me, “I’m also glad to see you, Warlock.”
“Always good to be seen. Especially considering what’s going down at the moment.”
“Indeed.” She walked back to the table. “I expected a coup, but not so quickly nor so openly. Makha has operated in the shadows for so long, we weren’t prepared for a blatant assault. His army attacked without warning, killing many of my troops. We’ve been able to mount a counter-offensive, but their numbers are staggering.” She closed her eyes. “Why would he do this?”
“Why else?” Steve asked.
His mother opened her eyes. “The citizens have remained neutral. What have I done to lose their loyalty?”
Steve walked over to her. “Nothing. They’ve been wooed by the tongue of a snake. And the easiest way to silence that tongue is to lop off the damn head.”
She placed a hand on his cheek. “My brave warrior.” Then to Lythos, “We’re grossly outnumbered, so we must strike hard. Consolidate our forces. The main unit must defend this place, but take a smaller party to flank the enemy.”
“Alpha.” He slammed his fist to his chest, then raced out of the room.
Europa gripped Steve’s shoulder. “I want you to flee.”
“No.”
“Stephanos, please.”
Steve darkened. “I’m not leaving you, or our people, to the mercy of that traitor. I’ll kill every one of his soldiers if I have to.”
“I still have a spare magazine,” I added, patting the Glock on my thigh.
Europa turned to me. “This is not your fight, Warlock.”
“If it’s Steve’s fight, it’s mine as well. He’s family, which makes you family. Besides, I came here to reforge the bond between humans and Minotaurs, even if that means waging battle to put this mutinous jackass down.”
Europa eyed me cautiously. “That is both brave and very stupid.”
Steve huffed. “That’s his superpower.”
The Alpha glanced from me to her son and back. “I’m honored you would stand by me and Stephanos, Marcus. If you represent the mindset of your people, then perha
ps I grossly underestimated the human world.” She inhaled deeply. “If we survive this fight, I will absolutely rejoin your Reformation Treaty without question.”
“Thank you,” I replied.
She smiled, but there was no joy in it. “Let’s survive this attack first. Stephanos, your leadership will be most helpful with the main forces.”
Steve bowed deeply. “By your orders, Alpha.”
“Marcus, you may join him or the flanking units as you desire.”
I chucked a thumb toward Steve. “I’m with him.”
“Very well.” She offered me the three-finger salute, then kissed her son on the cheek. “The gods watch over both of you.”
As she headed for the exit, an enormous explosion rocked the house. The room shook and my ears rang. I staggered as the guard who’d escorted us to Europa sprinted toward the doorway, only to be struck down by one of Makha’s soldiers as they began pouring into the room.
Steve recovered quickly, drawing both blades and gutting one enemy before the poor bastard knew what hit him. A second one took a boot to the groin. He doubled over and Steve drove both swords through his back.
Europa flew into combat as well, spinning with deadly accuracy. Blood splattered the far wall as she butchered several troops that had entered through the back doorway. One Minotaur blocked her swing, driving her backward. He charged, but she ducked and drove her sword into his chest. She decapitated a third before the second attacker’s corpse hit the floor.
More enemies appeared and I put the Glock into action. The noise was deafening inside the room, but the hollow points worked like a charm. The lead Minotaur jerked sideways, spinning as he fell to the floor. I drilled the guy behind him in the skull with my next shot.
Steel and lead filled the room as we stemmed the flow of Makha’s forces. We just couldn’t seem to stop it. As I slammed my last full mag into the Glock, even I could tell it was a losing battle.
