by Joshua Roots
“In the name of the Delwinn Council, we surrender.” My voice, amplified by my powers, reverberated off the stone walls and flaming barricades. Minotaurs continued to advance and another friendly fighter was run through. I inhaled again, gathering all my remaining Skill.
“We. Surrender.”
My words cracked like thunder. Nearby, a Warlock risked a glance my way. I nodded at him. Frustration rolled across his face, but he dropped his staff and held up his hands as well. One by one, bows, staffs and swords clattered to the ground while hands went to the sky.
The enemy was on us immediately. Huge, rough hands kicked my sword away and ripped my Glock from its holster. I was shoved hard to my knees. Around me, others were similarly disarmed and subjugated. More Minotaurs piled into the compound, moving to secure the buildings and remaining guard towers.
I pointed to my friends. “Please. They need a medic.”
My captor said nothing as he hauled me to my feet and dragged me to a group of allied captives. I craned my neck to look back at Steve and Pip, but my view was blocked by the enemy. Then I was tossed into the ring of prisoners and pushed to the ground next to a pale, bloodied Mage who I didn’t recognize.
Minotaurs surrounded us, weapons at the ready, as more prisoners were dragged into the ring. Most were still mobile, but several had to be dragged. Blood leaked from one Centaur like a sieve. Bile rose in my throat as the red liquid dripped onto the stone.
I was sick with fear. What had happened to Steve? To Pip? Had Quinn and Millie gotten the wounded out in time? Had they been captured as well?
As much as I wanted answers to those questions, they would have to wait. For the present, I had to worry about those with immediate needs. Ones I could actually help.
I tried to make eye contact with the nearest guard. “I want to negotiate the terms of our surrender.”
He didn’t even glance at me.
I struggled to keep my voice calm and professional. “As the leader of these people, I am afforded the right to seek refuge for the hurt and dying.”
“Those are your laws,” the Minotaur replied, his attention straight ahead. “You are under Minotaur rule now.”
“But we surrendered.”
He glanced down at me. “Only a fool forfeits a battle.”
My bearing cracked. I started to rise, but his sword snapped into my face.
“You will stay down or you will die.”
For the briefest of moments I considered taking him. But bloodlust lost ground to common sense. I was drained. Exhausted and spent. More important, too many lives were in my hands. Reluctantly, I returned to my knees.
The camp suddenly fell quiet, the murmurings of the enemy halting in an instant. Shadows walked slowly toward us, their backs framed by the fires burning at the barricades. All around us, Minotaurs stiffened as Makha, bejeweled sword in hand, and a small band of guards entered the ring.
He surveyed the prisoners. Our eyes met and he froze. We stared at one another for an eternity before he shook his head.
“Oh, Creator,” he said, sadness in his voice. “How could you let this happen?”
Chapter 22
The Killing Field
“As the garlanded ox, soothed by the priest’s potion, is led calmly to the altar, so too Ariadne led Asterion from the Minotaur’s Labyrinth home.”
—The Legend of Ariadne
Makha took his time walking the compound. He examined the barricades, noting the weaknesses and strongpoints, then began coordinating the treatment of the wounded and removal of the dead. While Mystics mended the injured on both sides, troops segregated the fallen. Minotaurs were placed on one side of the camp while humans and their allies on the other.
What amazed me wasn’t the OCD-level organization Makha possessed, but the amount of respect he was showing to his enemy. The dead weren’t tossed into a pile, something that plenty of humans would do, but treated with gentle hands. Eyes were closed and arms folded over broken weapons. Each time a Skilled was laid to rest, the Minotaurs would offer their three-finger salute.
My vision turned watery. It was easy to vilify an enemy, to make them a caricature of evil. It was harder to accept that they weren’t all that different than you. They, too, were following orders. They also suffered and bled.
Still, it sickened me to see so many lives had been lost in such a short period of time. Among the dead were hardened combatants and civilian volunteers alike, all struck down in a fruitless effort to stop, or at least slow, Makha. Each body that grew cold was a result of my plan. Their deaths were on my hands.
I searched the growing lines of friendly corpses for Pip and Steve, praying I wouldn’t see either. There were simply too many to tell.
I couldn’t shake the image of Pip’s broken body at my feet. A year ago he’d been a tiny smiling creature whose biggest worry was whether or not he had enough ink to finish a job. Now he was a shattered and charred victim of combat. He was too kind, too optimistic to be at war.
What if it’d been my orders that led to his injuries? Or worse, my own spell?
I should have refused his offer to fight, should have demanded he return to the safety of the Bookworm camp or Delwinn HQ. Instead, I’d allowed him to be at the heart of the battle and he’d paid the price.
The guilt over Pip was doubled by my fear for Steve. I’d barely made a dent in the hemorrhaging and hadn’t seen a single Mystic when I was taken prisoner. He needed medical attention, but had he gotten it? I couldn’t lose my best friend. Not after everything we’d been through.
Dammit, there’d just been so much blood.
And what about Quinn? Even the thought that she’d been hurt or killed was horrifying. We were supposed to start a life together. We deserved a life together. She lit up my life. I couldn’t image a world without her now.
Please be safe.
Please.
I hurt inside and out. My head pounded, my muscles ached, and my soul was heavy. I wanted to block the pain but didn’t have the energy to fight it. Instead, I watched the Minotaurs, hoping against hope that the cavalry Jethrow had been waiting for would arrive.
It didn’t.
Eventually, the new Alpha and his small band of guards wandered into the makeshift HQ. In his absence, the rest of the invading army began fortifying their position, taking up defensive posts along the barricade. Not that anyone was left to attack them. The allied troops were either dead, wounded, or captured, and any civilians who hadn’t already joined the fight were in hiding or long gone.
While the troops secured the camp, our captors began segregating the Skilled prisoners from the paranormal ones. The former were moved to a smaller, quieter section of the compound while the latter, a much larger contingent, remained in the open. My people and I were surrounded by Minotaurs, but I noted that they seemed less tense than the ones guarding the paranormals.
I continued to scan the battlefield for any signs of my friends, but to no avail. The Underground had grown dark as the artificial illumination from the wall sconces struggled against the rising shadows. Shadows that, now unhindered, consumed us.
A Minotaur pushed into the ring of our captors. He offered me the three-finger salute. “Creator, the Alpha would like a word.”
I glanced at the Mage, who hadn’t said a word since we’d been captured. Her mind was somewhere far away from the carnage. Part of me longed to be there with her. Then I struggled to my feet, sore in places I didn’t know existed. The Minotaur offered me a hand, helping to steady me as we exited the ring. I muscled through the ache in my bones, drawing myself to my full height and walking proudly forward.
The interior of Millie’s was frighteningly quiet and remarkably cold. The scent of her excellent coffee still lingered in the air while plates of food sat untouched on the tables around our map. Mak
ha was bent over it with his back to us.
“Master,” the guard said quietly.
Makha turned to greet us and I gasped.
“Steve,” I cried, unable to stop myself.
He was resting in a chair opposite Makha. His leg was wrapped and his face tight, but otherwise he seemed none the worse for wear.
“Thank you,” Makha said to the guard. The Minotaur put a fist to his chest and stepped outside.
Makha three-finger-saluted me. “Greetings, Creator.”
“Alpha.” I tore my gaze from Steve, struggling to keep the tension and anger out of my voice.
“The Heir is well, aren’t you?”
My buddy gave a slow thumbs-up. “The Mystics patched me up with that Minotaur Mojo you like. Leg is pretty stiff, but I’ll live.”
Makha turned to me. “Your magic also helped save his life. That, more than anything, deserves my respect. We lost Europa to her fanatical isolationism, but we can’t afford to lose the Heir. He’s the heart and soul of our people and has agreed to help us rebuild.”
I looked to Steve, who shrugged.
“I said I wasn’t opposed to the idea. Nothing more.”
“I understand.”
He was playing Makha, trying to get in his good graces. Or, at least, I hoped so.
“I’d like to congratulate you on a well-fought battle,” Makha said. “You and your family have certainly given my army more to deal with than any of the paranormal clans. We’ll not soon forget your bravery or cunning in the face of such overwhelming odds.”
“What happened to Pip?” I replied, because screw him and his compliments.
Makha frowned.
Steve shifted to get more comfortable. “The Bookworm who was with us.”
“Ah. I’m not sure, nor do I care. I assume he was carted off with the rest of the lesser species’ wounded.”
I glared at him, anger building. “Your warriors weren’t treating the dead like they were second-class citizens, so why be so derisive of the injured?”
“Those who fall in battle are always worthy of respect, Creator,” he replied evenly. “No matter how pitiful their existence. But only the fallen.”
I said nothing.
He regarded me for a moment. When he finally spoke, his voice was weary. “This was horrific and unnecessary. All it did was delay the inevitable.” He shook his head. “This could have been avoided had you accepted my initial offer.”
“I accept it now as part of our unconditional surrender.”
He smiled, but there was sadness in his eyes. “It’s too late. We’ve defeated your forces and are poised to march on your Council.”
“Why?”
“I don’t understand the question.”
“If we’re willing to accept a new treaty, why march on us?”
He peered at me. “Do you still speak for the Delwinn Council?”
I tried to stand more erect. “I remain their official ambassador to the Minotaurs as well as the leader of this defense force. As such, I carry the full voice of the Council, binding them to whatever agreements you and I make.”
The Alpha mulled over my words, then walked to another table where my sword and Glock lay. He picked up the gun, rolling it over in his hands.
“A strange weapon,” he said. “One of fire and thunder. So small, yet surprisingly deadly. You used this against the Hydra, the nuktheria and my own people. The blood this small item has spilled is great, yet it’s not magical.”
“No.”
“Then why carry it?”
“For diversity,” I admitted. “It offers me ranged attack without tapping into my Skill.”
He raised his eyebrows. “You choose not to use the power that the gods blessed you with?”
“I prefer to conserve it.”
“Clever.” He set the gun down and lifted my blade. “Now this is a thing of beauty. Sharp, sturdy, balanced. A focal point for your powers, yes?”
I nodded.
“Why do you use a sword when so many of your kind carry staffs?”
“Family tradition.”
“Tradition,” he repeated, running a finger along the runes etched into each side of the metal. “Such an odd word to hear from you, considering your people have forgotten so much of their past. Do you know what this says?” He tilted the blade so I could see the runes.
“No.”
“How sad to hold a weapon like this in your hands but not understand it. It reads, ‘With This Sword Is the Monster Vanquished.’” He turned to me. “The same words were etched into the blade Ariadne presented to Asterion to symbolize his transition. Inside the Labyrinth he was nothing more than a beast, but once she led him out, the beast was lost in favor of humanity.”
My eyes widened. “That’s his sword?”
Makha actually chuckled. “Hardly. Once Ariadne convinced her father that the Minotaur was no longer useful in the Labyrinth, he agreed to commission many such swords as gifts to only the mightiest of warriors. Ones, like his kin, who could unlock their true power.”
“Why would Minos do something like that that?”
“Who knows? The king loved theatrics. Perhaps it was to prove his perceived control over both man and beast. Or perhaps, somewhere inside his heart, he cared for my ancestor. Not that it matters. Myth allows different people to believe different things.” He set the blade down. “Suffice to say, considering the damage you wrought to my forces, you have more than earned the right to carry this weapon.”
I frowned. “Uh, thank you?”
He smiled. “Don’t be alarmed, Creator. I recognize strength when facing it. But while I respect your abilities, your cleverness, and your apparent worthiness to carry a blessed blade of Ariadne, that doesn’t mean I respect your political position. At least, not anymore.” He shook his head. “No, bartering a peace with you now is too risky. The only way to ensure that my people achieve the glory they deserve is to finish this. I am sorry, but the time for negotiation was back in our homeland.”
Dammit, no. I needed a foothold. Some way to keep him talking while I figured out how to prevent him from simply killing everything between us and Delwinn HQ.
Steve coughed, dragging my attention to him. He raised his eyebrows and mouthed a word. Madeline? Ariel?
Ariadne.
Holy crap, that was my in.
I turned back to the Alpha. “What if we signed a new treaty like you wanted? One that puts Minotaurs and the Skilled in the positions they once held?”
“Like I said—”
“Please, Alpha, hear me out.”
He regarded me, then dipped his head slightly.
Thank goodness.
“This war started because Europa refused to see the true path for your people, correct?”
“That’s a rather generalized accounting, but yes.”
“Right. She thought she knew what was best for the Minotaurs. So did the Council when we created the Reformation Treaty. Obviously she was wrong and so were we. But creating a new treaty, one that involves you directly, would reforge the relationship we shared many years ago.
“Our people were united once,” I continued, talking quickly before he had time to think. “Together we brought peace and harmony to both species thanks to the guidance and tutelage of the mighty Asterion and beautiful Ariadne. I learned that from your gift of her legend.”
“And your people forgot it,” he retorted. “Humans allowed our union to die, casting us aside like broken toys. Not overtly, but slowly over time. What once was great faded, tarnished by humanity’s greed and hunger for power. But we Minotaurs never forgot. We held on to the teachings of the past. We prayed to the gods that one day we’d be whole again.” He took a long breath, blowing it out through his large nostrils. “I see
now that it will never be the case. Humans will always resist the natural order of things. Always misremember their past to their own benefit, forsaking all others. That’s your true nature.”
“Yes, we forgot,” I replied, my heart pumping. “But unlike Europa, I see the error of our ways. We have suffered a hole in our hearts for over a thousand years. One that we have tried to fill with the wrong items. Power, money, lust, even our alliance with the other paranormals. The Skilled have been thirsty for peace, but nothing has quenched it.
“This war, however, confirms just how wrong we’ve been.” I pointed at Steve. “The fact that one Minotaur at my side allowed me to last as long as I did against your army is proof of that. I didn’t realize it at first, but only together were we strong. The other armies, the Dwarves, Satyrs, Fae, even the Council, were no match because they lacked the power of natural unity. I understand that now. And if I can learn this lesson, my people can as well. But we need help opening our eyes. Not through blood or war, but through compassion and education. After all, if Ariadne could learn to love the Minotaur that was once seen as a monster, all humans can.”
Makha was quiet for a long time.
“You’d use the memory of our ancestors to save yourself?” he asked quietly.
“No, Alpha. I use them to invoke the spirit of both our people.” I held up three fingers. “Together we are Human, Beast and the gods. We have been fractured for too long. Allowed to follow the wrong paths. Help me convince the Council that only together will we live in harmony.”
He studied me. “Your words are wise for one so young, Creator. But I fear there’s treachery in your soul. I offered you peace once before and you resisted. What would convince me that this time is any different?”
I inhaled, sweat dripping down my back. “Because I know where the Council is planning to make their last stand.”
Steve huffed, his eyes wide. “Whoa, dude, what the hell are you doing?”
“Ending this,” I said firmly. “Devon and Wells will just make things worse, so I’m going to prevent more loss of life. On both sides.” Then to Makha, “We were planning to ambush your forces on the Normal side of DC.”
