by Travis Bughi
So these words coming from Paul, a man Adelpha still considered a complete stranger, seemed cheap to her. They were undeserved in her mind, and she felt guilt at having done nothing to earn this praise. Although she had no way of knowing what Paul saw in her, she couldn’t help but feel like a fraud. Something just didn’t add up, and it made this praise feel awkward rather than welcome.
Then, out of all the people who could come to Adelpha’s aid, Mariam spoke up.
“Paul,” she said. “You’re embarrassing the poor girl. Please try to respect her modesty.”
“What? I’m just complimenting, oh. . .” Paul paused as Adelpha’s unhappy mood finally penetrated his fog of ecstasy. “Drat, I’m so sorry. My deepest apologies, Adelpha. I didn’t mean to intrude.”
“It’s alright.” Adelpha held up a hand. “Don’t mention it. Please.”
“It’s just, I know how much you mean to my son,” Paul continued, apparently not hearing Adelpha.
“Father!” Abe said.
“What? I’m just being honest, Abraham.”
“Paul, please.” Mariam set a hand on her husband’s.
“I don’t understand what everyone’s so upset about.” Paul pushed ever onwards. “I’m just having a conversation with our guest here.”
Abe, Adelpha, and Mariam all had their mouths open to respond when a heavy crunch of dirt outside interrupted the conversation. They all paused, momentarily unsure of what they heard, but then another heavy crunch made them straighten up.
Something big had just arrived on the Stout farm.
The four humans listened for more. Their arguing had somehow masked the approach of whatever visitor was outside, and Emily exchanged a worried glance with Adelpha.
“What in the world?” Paul said. “Who would be here at this hour?”
“Ogre?” Adelpha said. “Should we string our bows?”
“No.” Emily shook her head. “That sounded familiar.”
“Minotaur is my guess,” Paul replied, then stood up from the table. “Hoofed feet, I’m sure of it.”
The group strained to hear over the constant wind, which blew against the home. Emily’s hand slowly progressed toward her bow, and Adelpha placed a firm hand on her hunting knife. Emily’s bow wasn’t strung yet, but she gathered she could string it fast enough if the need arose. Neither of the amazons moved though. They heard nothing more outside and so didn’t want to appear alarmed.
“Who’s there?” Paul called out suddenly and took a step toward the door.
“Father, no!” Emily hushed him and stood up.
“I’m looking for . . . Emily Stout,” was the response they received in a voice that was slow, heavy, and proper.
A minotaur’s voice.
All at once the humans heaved a sigh of relief. Adelpha’s hand dropped off her knife, and Emily plopped back down on her chair as if she’d spent the entire evening tilling the fields. She sighed once more and shook her head.
“That didn’t sound like Talvorn,” Adelpha commented.
Emily waved the concern away. “He’s probably trying to keep out of sight as well. Drowin did see his face.”
Paul relaxed and took the final steps toward the door. He opened it, and the light from inside seeped around his frame into the darkness beyond.
“Yes, she’s just inside.” Paul beckoned. “Please, come in.”
The heavy steps of the large creature resumed, and Emily heard the crunching of dirt and dry grass outside. She looked over at Adelpha and gave her a puzzled look. Adelpha only shrugged in reply. How would she know what another minotaur was out here for? Emily shrugged back and turned her head to look at her father who was still standing in the doorway. He started to pull back as the sound of heavy hooves hit the wooden steps of the back porch.
“Welcome,” Paul said.
Just as he finished that greeting, Emily heard the brutal crunch of bone on bone, and Paul was flung back from the doorway, arms and legs trailing behind his body like a rag doll as he was lifted completely off the ground and into the air. A moment later, among the gasps and cries from his wife, children, and Adelpha, Paul slammed onto the family table where his weight split and shattered the old wooden planks with ease. When he came to rest on top of them, his eyes were rolled back, and his chest wasn’t moving.
Mariam dove to the ground on top of Paul, shielding him with her body and crying out his name. Emily, Adelpha, and Abe threw back their chairs as they stood up and looked back towards the door.
The minotaur’s leg was still raised, hoof pointed forward where it had struck Emily’s father in the chest. As he set it down, Emily looked past it to the rest of him.
His fur was blood red. There were patches of white mixed in and about, but for the most part, he was red. His horns were long, identifying him as an older minotaur. The thick plate of metal strapped over his chest, while not elegantly made, showed signs that it was meant to be worn as armor. In the minotaur’s hand was an iron-headed hammer with a thick, wooden shaft, which was easily as tall as Emily and perhaps weighed as much as her, too. The minotaur’s body filled the doorway as he hunched over to walk through it. As he stood to full height, his eyes found Abe, and then they found his guns.
The minotaur swung his heavy hammer sideways at Abe as Abe reached for his six-shooters. Like any gunslinger, Emily’s brother had already had his hands at his sides, mere inches from the killing tools that could fire twelve rounds altogether. All he had to do was pull one gun out of its holster, aim it at the minotaur’s head, and pull the trigger.
Abe was just fast enough.
The sledgehammer streaked through the air toward Abe as he ripped his right-hand gun clear of its holster and aimed it up. Then, as the gun went off, he twisted to avoid the massive weapon that was barreling toward his body. A loud bang deafened Emily’s ears, and black powdery smoke wafted into the air, instantly followed by the loud ring of metal striking metal.
Just below the top of the minotaur’s left shoulder, a tiny bullet-sized dent appeared in his heavy armor, but the minotaur never flinched. Before the remaining smoke had cleared the gun, the hammer connected with its target, and Abe, who had attempted to jump back, not only sacrificed an accurate shot, but also saved his own life. The hammer, meant to crush his ribs with enough force to blow open his body, only swiped across his chest in a grazing blow that continued all the way around the minotaur in a half circle. Abe took to the air like his father before him, blown back, his body shattered to lifeless capacity. He hit the far wall, seven paces away, with a sickening smack and crumpled to the ground—his body awkwardly doubled over and completely still.
The hammer collided with the wall next to the back door, punching a human-head-sized hole through the old wood as if it were paper and blowing back wooden splinters and dust, which mixed with the heavy smell of black powder from Abe’s gun. Only the minotaur’s strength arrested the hammer’s path of destruction, and the hammer came to a dead halt.
“Abe!” Adelpha and Emily shouted.
“No!” Mariam, still sheltering Paul with her body, wailed and reached a hand out towards her son.
The minotaur swung the hammer again, making the hole even bigger as he dragged his weapon back through the wall. He brought it forward, put one heavy hoof in front of the other, and looked with beady eyes from Adelpha to Emily.
“Which one . . . is Emily?”
Adelpha ignored the minotaur and sprinted over to Abe. She crashed down next to him and frantically attempted to untangle his body.
“Mother!” Emily shouted. “Get out of the way. Move!”
Mariam, weeping tears, began to drag her husband out of the center of the room. The minotaur glanced an eye toward the two and looked about to take a step toward them.
As his gazed dropped from Emily, she yanked out her hunting knife, and the minotaur’s eyes swept back to her.
“Over here, you ugly piece of ogre snot,” she spat.
Mariam continued to drag Paul away to the
edge of the room, sobbing heavily, and Emily could barely keep it together.
Don’t cry now, she thought. Don’t do it.
Emily thought back to when Chara had died—her grandmother falling to the earth after Heliena put an arrow in her chest. She’d barely held it together then, and things were no different now. But she couldn’t have her vision blurred by tears, so she fought hard to turn her despair into anger.
“I don’t know who you are, but you’re going to die here. Do you know that?” Emily cursed. “You’re going to pay for that. I’ll cut off your head and take it back to the banshee who hired you.”
“Are you,” the minotaur said, breathing the words and taking a step forward, “Emily Stout?”
Emily didn’t respond. Every moment she delayed let her mother get farther to safety. Also, although her face didn’t show it, Emily was absolutely terrified.
She was facing a full-grown minotaur. Twice her height, thickly built, and combat skilled, this minotaur had just swung a weapon as heavy as Emily herself in the same amount of time it took Abe to draw one of his guns. There could be no mistaking the signs of a dedicated warrior, and Emily’s heart raced as she spotted her unstrung bow and a scattering of arrows where they lay at the minotaur’s hooves.
Alone against this minotaur with just her knife, Emily knew she wouldn’t last but a second.
“Adelpha,” Emily said as calmly as she could, never breaking eye contact with the minotaur.
The amazon queen had propped Abe up against the wall he’d struck. Her cheeks were wet, and her eyes were filled with dread as she frantically wrapped her hands around Abe’s neck and held them there. A look of relief swept over her face.
“He’s alive.” She sighed. “You hear that, Emily? He’s alive.”
Adelpha pulled Abe’s unconscious head forward and kissed his lips with unbridled passion and then gently laid him up against the wall to rest. Meanwhile, Mariam had finished pulling Paul over to her son, and she reached out to wrap both up and press them to her.
“So,” the minotaur said, looking over at Adelpha and then back to Emily, “you are Emily.”
“Adelpha,” Emily called, a little louder this time.
Emily looked down beneath the minotaur again to check her bow, still lying there, unstrung. Then, next to it, Emily saw one of Abe’s six-shooters—he must have dropped it when he went flying—and her heart soared for a mere moment before she realized she had no idea how to use it. The gun would do her no good. Her best bet was to grab her bow.
Adelpha relinquished Abe to Mariam’s motherly care with great reluctance, and Mariam touched Adelpha’s arm and caught her eyes.
“I’ll get them out of here,” she said. “Help my daughter.”
Adelpha nodded and stood up. The minotaur, if he noticed her, didn’t bother to turn. He seemed content to keep his eyes on Emily, pondering the exact moment to strike.
Then Adelpha pulled out her hunting knife, and the minotaur’s ears perked up at the sound of metal clearing leather. Emily risked a quick glance past the minotaur and saw Adelpha taking slow steps toward them. Her cheeks were still wet, but her eyes were no longer crying. Emily expected to see fury and rage like she’d never seen before, but instead saw something both more terrifying and, at the same time, comforting.
Adelpha’s face was placid and calm, but her eyes harbored a seething hatred. She breathed deeply and walked unblinkingly, radiating such cold-blooded vengeance that a vampire would shiver under her gaze.
The minotaur took notice and half turned his body so that he was partially facing Adelpha. He did not appear worried, however, merely cautious.
“I’m only here,” the minotaur said, “to kill Emily.”
“Yeah, but I’m the one you should be watching,” Adelpha replied.
“Why?” he asked.
“Because I’m the one who’s going to kill you.”
Adelpha’s slow steps flashed into a burst of speed, needing only a few more steps until she would be within striking distance of the minotaur. She rushed forward, shaking her knife wildly and shouting a war cry at the top of her lungs. The minotaur swung his hammer with all his strength. It was clear he’d been expecting this. His body reflected the calm serenity of one most confident in his skills. His swing was fluid, powerful, and meant to bring Adelpha’s reckless charge to a swift end.
But it was all a trick, and the minotaur fell for it.
Adelpha’s dashing speed halted for a fraction of a second, and the weapon swept past her stomach so close that Emily’s heart skipped a beat. And then the moment of danger was gone, and Adelpha resumed her charge as the minotaur’s eyes popped open in a curious mixture of surprise and interest. Adelpha gripped her knife in both hands and kicked off from the wooden floor and into the air. She was still screaming, wailing like a banshee that had just broken free of a corpse. She held the knife over her head, ready to plunge it into the top of the minotaur’s skull.
The minotaur’s hammer collided with another section of the back wall, leaving no time for it to be brought back to its wielder’s aid, but at the same time, there was no need. The minotaur jerked his head to the side, bringing his left horn in a sweeping arc that deflected the knife and caused the blow to strike his heavily armored shoulder and Adelpha to bounce off the minotaur’s body.
Emily exhaled and dove under the minotaur with her right hand holding her knife and her left reaching out for her bow. Adelpha landed on her feet in front of the creature and lashed out with her knife at his unprotected legs, making two quick cuts as Emily grasped her bow.
The minotaur snorted his anger and brought his mighty hammer back around for another swing. Adelpha leapt back with enough to time to spare, but Emily, still trying to stand up, had no choice but to drop back down to the floor.
She felt the air tremble with the weapon’s passing and then rolled to the side as the minotaur tried to trample her with a heavy hoof. She was just fast enough, and the beast struck only wood, smashing and splintering the floor with devastating force. He lifted his hoof up to try again, but stumbled and roared in pain. Emily looked up to see Adelpha’s knife skillfully planted in the slight niche between the armor’s front and back pieces, directly into his right side. It was buried almost to the hilt and would have outright killed any normal human. But minotaurs were sturdy creatures, and so he did not fall.
Still, the knife was deeply embedded, and Adelpha was trying to jerk it free. It was stuck, twisted between tough muscle and bone that would not let go, and the minotaur took a hand from his hammer to launch his fist into her.
She tried to lean back, but the punch took her in the gut anyway, and she gasped when the air in her lungs was violently expunged. Adelpha, now gripping her stomach, collapsed to floor, and the minotaur followed up with a swift kick to her side. Thanks to the knife wound, the blow wasn’t as powerful as the others, and Adelpha only slid a few paces across the floor, where she lay gasping for air.
But, as the minotaur lashed out at Adelpha, Emily had quickly grabbed an arrow and rolled away, bow still in hand. She sheathed her knife and stood as the minotaur reached down and yanked Adelpha’s out of his ribs. He grunted in pain, and dark blood began to drip from the bottom of his armor. With apathy, he dropped the hunting knife and focused on Emily. She considered dropping down to string her bow, but there was no time. She was too close, and the minotaur swung.
The heavy hammer came around with enough force to crack a behemoth’s hide, and Emily leaped back with her arms thrown wide to avoid even the tiniest touch. The hammer collided with the ceiling and tore a gash into it. Emily took another step back and dropped to one knee, hoping she’d have enough time, but the minotaur turned his backswing into the beginning of a terrible plunge. Rather than waste a breath bringing the weapon back around to bear, he brought it over his head to crush Emily beneath him.
The metal ripped open the ceiling in a long line as the minotaur brought the hammer screaming downward. Emily rolled to the side
and felt the floor beneath her quake as iron crushed wood, broke through the floor, and pounded the earth below. It vibrated up Emily’s hands and made her jaw go numb.
Emily somersaulted back and sprung to her feet. She hopped back again and again, trying to put more distance between herself and the minotaur. In her hand, she gripped her bow and arrow with white knuckles, and she took shallow breaths right up until her back hit a wall.
She gasped. In the chaos of it all, she’d lost track of her surroundings, and now she had no place to go. A look of dread washed over her face, and the minotaur gave a weak smirk as blood continued to drip from under his armor. He leaned forward, bowing down until his head was even with Emily’s chest, pointed his horns forward, and roared.
With a burst of speed that would shock a bugbear, the minotaur propelled his weight forward. Even if Emily managed to dodge his pointed horns, he would crush her into the wall. She could not drop down for he would trample her. She could not dodge to the side for there was no time to avoid his wide body. In the fraction of a second Emily had to decide her fate, she made the only choice that came to mind.
She leapt into the air and stuck out her foot.
The minotaur’s forehead connected with the bottom of Emily’s sandal, and she pushed down with all her strength. The minotaur’s head was barely nudged, but Emily was thrust up into the air, her back sliding against the wall behind her until her head smacked into the ceiling and she curled into a ball.
Unable to stop in time, the minotaur desperately tried to swing his horned head at Emily as he burst through the wall beneath her. It was a vain attempt, though, brought short when the creature’s massive bulk shredded the wood as if it were paper. The minotaur stumbled, all its force thrown forward, and plummeted onto the floor of Paul and Mariam’s room.
Emily crashed to the ground less gracefully than she wanted, but used the resulting momentum to bounce herself back up. Her body ached from the impact, her head was spinning, but the determination in her heart kept her motions fluid and poised even as she heard the minotaur begin to stand.
