From the neck up he was entirely bull, but the rest of his body more resembled a thickly-furred man. But, as shown moments ago, he could adapt his form to his environment, never appearing fully human, but able to make his entire form appear as a bull when necessary. For instance, as he had looked just before I tipped him. Maybe he had been scouting the field for heifers before I had so efficiently killed the mood.
His bull face was also covered in thick, coarse hair — even sporting a long, wavy beard of sorts — and his eyes were the deepest brown I had ever seen. Cow shit brown. His snout jutted out, emphasizing the gold ring dangling from his glistening nostrils, catching a glint in the luminous glow of the moon. The metal was at least an inch thick, and etched with runes of a language long forgotten. Thick, aged ivory horns sprouted from each temple, long enough to skewer a wizard with little effort. He was nude except for a beaded necklace and a pair of distressed leather boots that were big enough to stomp a size twenty-five in my face if he felt so inclined.
I hoped our blossoming friendship wouldn’t end that way. I really did.
After the laughter died down, the Minotaur spoke, his shoulders relaxing as he assumed a less-intimidating posture. “I must thank you for testing me this night. I almost forgot The Path, and for this I must ask your forgiveness.”
I blinked. “Uh, forgiveness?”
He nodded, relaxing even more, steepling his fingers before him as if in prayer. “I have been reading quite a bit lately on the Buddhist faith. Most intriguing. I can’t fathom why I had never heard of it until recently. But I need not react to such an overt negative offense. Karma will come back to visit you… quite severely, I would imagine,” he sneered.
It took a few moments for my brain to process his words. “Karma? You’re a Buddhist now?” I practically yelled in disbelief. “Come on! It was just a practical joke. You make it sound as if Karma will be gunning for me.”
Asterion replied in a lecturing tone, his snout pulled back like Mr. Ed chewing a wad of peanut butter. “The severity of the Karmic retaliation is weighted against five conditions: frequent repetitive action; determined intentional action; action performed without regret; action against extraordinary persons…” He leveled a meaty thumb at his chest with a vain grin. “And finally, action toward those who have helped one in the past.” He wasn’t able to conceal his pleasure. “Having broken all five this night, I would say Karma’s going to destroy you.” I rolled my eyes and shrugged. The Minotaur switched gears. “My deepest condolences, but if this is about your parents’ murder, I cannot aid you.”
Before I could stop myself, the frozen ground around us vaporized to baking clay and cow shit in a fifty-foot radius, steam rising up in a heavy fog. I could smell the soles of our boots burning like fresh tarmac. “What?” I hissed.
The Minotaur’s eyes widened. “You are the heir to the notorious Temple wizards who recently passed. Why would you seek me out again if not to find their murderer?”
“The evidence revealed no foul-play. What do you know?” I whispered, voice like gravel, trying to blockade the torrent of emotions that had so suddenly swelled up inside me — the emotions I thought I had successfully walled away. Until now.
“Nothing! But come now, Temple, you know better. Are you claiming that you do not know a way to kill someone without a trace? You are a wizard. That is child’s play for your kind. When a wizard dies, it’s either violent or from extreme old age. For two to die within moments of one another is beyond calculation. Even Hermes wouldn’t bet on that.”
I had checked the evidence myself. Repeatedly. He was wrong. He had to be wrong. Calming myself, I came back to the reason for my visit, dispersing my magic out into the night with a flick of my wrist. The ground remained warm, but no longer smoldering. “Word around town says you deal in antiquities. Is this true?”
The Minotaur hesitated, glancing at the ground in relief. “Says whom?”
I glanced behind me as I heard the distant sound of sirens on a nearby road. Impossible. They couldn’t be following me. Perhaps some kid had been caught speeding on the back roads. I was just being paranoid. “Who,” I corrected, turning back.
“Irrelevant,” he muttered.
That rankled me. “It is not irrelevant. It’s paramount! The rules of grammar are just as important as the rules of engagement in war. Without them we are barbarians,” I argued.
The Minotaur frowned pensively. “Then I must take that into consideration.”
“So, are the rumors true or not?” I pressed.
“Possibly. What do you seek?”
“A book.”
“I know many books. Perhaps you could elaborate?” he replied, sounding bored.
I weighed my options. My client wanted this badly. Very badly. And so far, I had turned up nothing. This was the end of the road. The sirens were closer now, and the flashing red and blue lights limned the fringes of the field. Fuck. It couldn’t be for me. I rushed onward, anxious now. “I don’t know the title, but I can show you the symbol from the cover.” I had to move fast in case the cops really had found me. Regardless, if they drove by, chances were good they would either recognize my car, or at least wonder why such a beautiful vehicle was parked outside a field on a deserted country road.
The Minotaur knelt down to the ground, waiting. I noticed that his necklace was really a set of prayer beads, and shook my head in disbelief. The Minotaur, a reformed Buddhist. I traced my fingers just above the grass, releasing a tendril of fire like a pencil to burn an insignia into the now dry earth. It resembled a winged serpent over a flickering sun that appeared to be burning out, or fading. The Minotaur was still for several breaths, and then glanced warily toward the sky. After a long silence, he unfolded from his crouch, scuffed up the ground with his massive boot, and whispered one word. “Dragons.” His horns gleamed wickedly in the moonlight as he towered over me. I blinked. What the hell?
“Dragons?” I glanced behind me as the sound of slamming car doors interrupted my train of thought, and realized that the flashing lights were just outside the field, right by my parked car. Shit. I had been made. Time to wrap things up. As I stood, I saw a flicker of silver in the air as Asterion tossed something at me. I reflexively caught it to find a dull, chipped silver coin in my palm. A worn image of a man holding the legendary Caduceus — the healing staff of doctors everywhere — was imprinted on one side, but the other bore only a pair of winged feet. “Flip once to save the life of another, and once to save your own,” the Minotaur recited.
I frowned. “Why give me this?”
“I do as commanded. The book you seek is dangerous. I was told to pass this relic on to the first requestor.” He fingered the prayer beads thoughtfully, glancing once over my shoulder at the flashing lights.
“How long have you held this?”
He answered a different question instead. “I have guarded the original version of the book you seek since I was put in that cursed Labyrinth, but I fear that copies might exist in the outside world. If they haven’t been destroyed over the years. Humans are always destroying their culture.” He snorted, eyes briefly flaring in outrage. “Both the coin and book were entrusted to me by Hermes.” My mouth might or might not have dropped open in disbelief for a moment, but the Minotaur continued. “If your desire for this book is strong enough, meet me here two days hence. We will duel at sunset.”
“But you’re a Buddhist now. Couldn’t you… I don’t know, sell it to me?”
The Minotaur shook his head with a hungry grin. “Promises made, promises kept.” I glanced at the ancient coin in my palm. “Oh, and Temple…” I looked up to see his boot flying at my midsection, so hastily threw up a last-second shield of air. It deflected only the fatal portion of the blow. “Karma says hello. Don’t ever cow-tip me again.” The force felt like, well, what I imagined a heel kick from the Minotaur would feel like. Then I was flying toward the pulsing lights. The Minotaur’s guttural laughter stayed with me as I tumbled through the star
ry night, and then I landed chest-first in a moist pile of cow shit, sliding a few feet so that it smeared a perfect streak from chest to groin. I heard a surprised grunt, and then a knee ground me into the cold grass, mashing the molecular particles of shit firmly between each individual fiber of my six-hundred-dollar coat.
Cold steel clamped around my wrists. “I got him, Captain! He came outta’ nowhere!” I couldn’t help it. I began to laugh — hard — despite the lingering pain of Asterion’s well-placed farewell boot.
“Fucking Karma!” I bellowed between giggles.
“I think he’s hopped up on something, sir. Probably mushrooms, judging from all this cow shit.”
“Whatever,” A new voice — presumably the Captain’s — said. “Let’s just take him downtown. We have a few questions for him about his parents’ murder.”
I choked on my laughter…
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ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
First, I would like to thank my beta-readers, TEAM TEMPLE, those individuals who spent hours of their time to read, and re-re-read Nate’s story. Your dark, twisted, cunning sense of humor makes me feel right at home… I also couldn’t have done this on time without Carol T’s incredible editing services.
I would also like to thank you, the reader. I hope you enjoyed reading WHISPERS as much as I enjoyed writing it. Callie Penrose returns in the second quarter of 2018, and Nate Temple’s book 9 releases in early 2018…
And last, but definitely not least, I thank my wife, Lexy. Without your support, none of this would have been possible.
ABOUT SHAYNE SILVERS
Shayne is a man of mystery and power, whose power is exceeded only by his mystery…
He writes the Amazon Bestselling Feathers and Fire Series about a rookie spell-slinger named Callie Penrose who works for the Vatican in Kansas City. Her problem? Hell seems to know more about her past than she does.
He also writes the Amazon Bestselling Nate Temple Series, which features a foul-mouthed wizard from St. Louis. He rides a bloodthirsty unicorn, drinks with Achilles, and is pals with the Four Horsemen. Both series take place in the same universe, because it’s fun.
Shayne holds two high-ranking black belts, and can be found writing in a coffee shop, cackling madly into his computer screen while pounding shots of espresso. He’s hard at work on book 9 of the Nate Temple Series - coming early 2018, as well as Callie’s book 4 in the Feathers and Fire series for the second quarter of 2018. Connect with him online for all sorts of groovy goodies:
Get Down with Shayne Online
www.shaynesilvers.com
[email protected]
BOOKS BY SHAYNE SILVERS
CHRONOLOGICAL ORDER OF BOTH SERIES IN THIS MULTI-VERSE ARE LISTED ON THE NEXT PAGE…
NATE TEMPLE SUPERNATURAL THRILLER SERIES
FAIRY TALE - FREE prequel novella #0 for my subscribers
OBSIDIAN SON
BLOOD DEBTS
GRIMM
SILVER TONGUE
BEAST MASTER
TINY GODS
DADDY DUTY (Novella #6.5)
WILD SIDE
WAR HAMMER
BOOK #9 - COMING EARLY 2018…
FEATHERS AND FIRE SERIES
UNCHAINED
RAGE
WHISPERS
BOOK #4 - COMING EARLY 2018…
CHRONOLOGICAL ORDER BOTH SERIES
FAIRY TALE (TEMPLE PREQUEL)
OBSIDIAN SON (TEMPLE 1)
BLOOD DEBTS (TEMPLE 2)
GRIMM (TEMPLE 3)
SILVER TONGUE (TEMPLE 4)
BEAST MASTER (TEMPLE 5)
TINY GODS (TEMPLE 6)
DADDY DUTY (TEMPLE NOVELLA 6.5)
UNCHAINED (FEATHERS… 1)
RAGE (FEATHERS… 2)
WILD SIDE (TEMPLE 7)
WAR HAMMER (TEMPLE 8)
WHISPERS (FEATHERS… 3)
Whispers: Feathers and Fire Book 3 Page 32
