by Nova Nelson
She sighed. Nobody said aging was a hoot. So in that sense, she couldn’t blame Ezra for what he’d done…
“Sausage wraps on the way?” she called to Clifford as she exited the bathroom and slipped on her boots.
“You’re too good to me.”
“And you return the favor, my dear.”
She patted him on the head as she passed. The hound had saved her hide more times than she could count, and while she’d never owned a pet before coming to Eastwind and had been concerned about the responsibility involved in having as interdependent (or co-dependent, if she were honest) of a relationship with one as a witch had with her familiar.
But as it turned out, Clifford had been the best thing that had ever happened to her. She could be alone with him. It was the perfect balance of solitude and companionship, and after so many wonderful years, she wondered how she’d ever gotten by without him.
“Mirna,” she said, addressing the scowling spirit, “why don’t you give it a rest? Usually I’d sit with you and listen to your problems, talk you through them, maybe tie up a few loose ends for you in the physical world, and send you on your way, but unfortunately, something big has come up, and I like to focus on one thing at a time.”
“Then focus on me,” snapped the spirit. “You kidnapped me before all this started.”
“Binding and kidnapping are not quite the same thing.”
“Yes, they are.”
“Okay, fine. They are. What are you going to do, call the sheriff on me?”
That only set the sprit into another rage spiral; Ruby was not looking forward to unraveling whatever knots were tethering this one to her old life. She considered simply banishing Mirna—it would only take a moment to do, and then the spirit would be out of her life forever—but she couldn’t do that. Not even to Mirna. Banishment with unfinished business was a forever sentence to misery.
Later, strolling toward the sheriff’s department, Ruby finished the last of her breakfast, tossing the wrapper into a nearby trashcan (Clifford had long finished his) and, shamelessly licking the grease off her fingers.
Gabby Bloom came marching up the street, cutting easily through the sparse Thursday morning crowds and looking slightly frazzled but friendly nonetheless.
Without so much as a hello, the angel said, “Ready?” She held out a to-go cup of coffee, which Ruby accepted.
She stared down at the cup. “You know, I’m more of a tea drinker.”
Bloom nodded. “I do. Which is why I’m giving you coffee. I need you a little over-caffeinated today.”
“I thought we’d talked about this before. Coffee only makes me more blunt than usual.”
“Exactly.” Bloom nodded for Ruby and Clifford to follow her as she started down the road. “We’re about to visit the residence of a minotaur. Have you ever spoken with a minotaur?”
Ruby considered it. “Not outside of casual interactions.” They’d worked many cases together, but somehow minotaurs had never been involved. That spoke well of their kind, she decided.
“Then you’re in for a treat.” Bloom chuckled. “They might be even more blunt than you. And they appreciate the same level of communication in return.”
As they began walking down the road, toward the outer edge of town, Ruby said, “Hmm… maybe I’m part minotaur.”
“If you are, it’s just the torso part. Unless you’re hiding some hairy legs under those robes.”
“Oh, I am, but it’s all human hair.”
“Human?” Bloom narrowed her eyes at Ruby.
“You know, like a witch, but with no magic or shifting abilities?… Never mind. And old-world thing. Suffice it to say there is no bull hair on me.”
Slobodan Yurosi lived in the Ravenwood neighborhood on the southwestern edge of town. His address was near enough to the Deadwoods for a convenient romp, but not so near that Ruby felt overly anxious going there.
Ravenwood was a neighborhood she was entirely unfamiliar with. There were only a handful of minotaurs in Eastwind, and from what Bloom told her on their walk, while Ruby sucked down her coffee, they were all gathered in that one neighborhood. That wasn’t unusual. People liked to keep with their own for the most part. That could be observed all over Eastwind—while not everyone who lived in Erin Park was a leprechaun, every leprechaun Ruby had ever met lived in Erin Park. Same went for the werewolf aristocracy in Hightower Gardens… and the werewolf commoners in the Outskirts. However, the closer one got to the center of town, the more diverse each street became. Her home was only a few blocks away from the heart, for instance, and the other three cottages on her row housed a family of fauns, a young but starry-eyed werewolf-pixie couple, and an elf who looked to be about thirty but was likely closer to one hundred and ten. Even though Ruby left her house infrequently, she preferred to see a variety of creatures and classes when she did so. Get too many people of a similar background together, and things tended to get a little hostile for everyone else. And because there was no one like her in town, she had to pay attention to that sort of hostility and avoid it wherever possible.
Besides the minotaurs, Ravenwood was home to most of Eastwind’s less welcome creatures—goblins, ogres, and even a few former Deadwoods inhabitants who were run out of their homes.
She was surprised to find that Ravenwood even had its own neighborhood square that seemed to carry most of the essentials, presumably so those in this neighborhood didn’t have to venture more centrally and subject themselves to the scorn and suspicion of others.
She could relate. Perhaps she should have settled in Ravenwood.
The garden outside Slobodan’s home only had a few bristly shrubs protruding from a landscape of tiny pebbles. Bloom led the way up the sidewalk to the front door and knocked authoritatively. “Mr. Yurosi? It’s Sheriff Bloom.”
The door opened a few minutes later, and Slobodan’s dark bull eyes stared out from the dim interior. Ruby hated to judge creatures for the things they couldn’t control, but she always found it disconcerting to come face-to-face with a minotaur. They generally wore clothes according to Eastwind custom, meaning they didn’t just walk around bare-chested all the time. And they could have been mistaken for just any old witch if it weren’t for, you know, the bull’s head and large, dangerous horns. She would never not find it strange to hear the voice of a human coming from the lips of a bull.
Slobodan met Gabby’s gaze confidently, but said nothing until he looked at Ruby then back to the sheriff. “Why is she here?”
“Your reputation precedes you again,” Clifford grumbled.
“I’m sure your presence provides a helpful context clue.”
“She’s helping me with the investigation,” Bloom replied.
“You said in your letter that this was regarding a missing person. How could a Fifth Wind help if no one is dead?” Bloom had described minotaurs as blunt, but Ruby was quite liking the way he cut straight to the point.
“Fifth Winds have the gift of Insight. Even if no one is dead, she provides a smart second opinion to my observations.”
He nodded curtly, only once. “The hound stays outside.”
Ruby straightened her spine. “No. The hound comes inside. He goes wherever I go.”
Slobodan’s eyes gave only the faintest hint of consideration before he said. “Is he house trained?”
“Of course he is.”
“Then he may enter.” He turned and walked inside, not bothering to hold the door for them.
“Glad I gave you that coffee,” muttered Bloom.
“Oh, don’t flatter yourself. I would have said that no matter what.”
Careful where she stepped on the uneven flagstone floors, Ruby followed the sheriff inside, Clifford hot on her heels. He shut the door behind him with a big, heavy paw.
Slobodan led them into a large space that, not unlike Ruby’s own home, contained the seating area, dining table, and kitchen. Utilitarian didn’t even begin to cover his design style. “Ascetic” might have been c
loser. But “harsh” would have been even more on the nose. There were no pictures on the wall—there was nothing on any of the walls as far as Ruby could see—and there wasn’t even a rug in front of the hearth.
“My wife will make you hot drinks if you demand it,” he said, taking one of the four seats at the table. “She’s upstairs mending a hole in the wall. I can call to her.”
“What’s the hole from?” Ruby asked.
“Anger.”
Ruby looked at Bloom to see if this was something they should be follow up on, but the angel seemed unconcerned. She pulled out a chair and took a seat, so Ruby followed suit.
“We don’t demand hot drinks,” she said. “We only want to talk to you.”
“Ask me your questions.” He exhaled and Ruby could have sworn she could see the humid air swirl out of his bovine nostrils.
Bloom went ahead. “You’re the chargehead of the Eastwind minotaurs, correct?”
“Yes.”
“And you keep track of where your people run?”
“Yes.”
“And you’re sure they tell the truth about it?”
“None among the charge lie to me.” He raised his chin slightly.
“Good to know. Have any of your people been on Fluke Mountain in the last few weeks? Specifically around the Silent Reach?”
“No. They prefer the Deadwoods and I specifically forbade them from running anywhere else. So few understand how my kind choose to live our lives, it’s best if we keep to ourselves. The things that happen within the confines of the Deadwoods rarely pass through the lips of those who enter and survive to tell about it.”
“So, none of your charge have entered the Silent Reach?”
“That is what I have told you already.”
Bloom nodded. “And what do you know of Taurus?”
Slobodan clearly needed no time to consider it. “It is a false tale. A fabrication used by many weres to scare their children, and one woven at the expense of minotaur dignity.”
“Do you know the tale?”
“Only vaguely, but it varies from teller to teller. The version I have heard most frequently goes like this. Taurus was the greatest of the minotaurs in Wisconsin.”
Ruby jumped in. “Wisconsin?” That couldn’t be right. “As in dairy farms and the Packers?”
Slobodan stared at her like she had just spoken complete gibberish. And to Ruby’s discomfort, Sheriff Bloom’s expression was similar.
Okay. Something had clearly been lost in translation. This used to happen all the time, but as she’d expanded her reading hours and simply spent more time learning through cultural osmosis, the occurrences had become more and more infrequent. Thankfully, she knew the best approach to take when something like this happened.
“How about you just tell me what Wisconsin means to you?” she said.
He’d said Wisconsin, though. She was sure of it. Wasn’t she?
“Wisconsin is one of the many realms branching off from Avalon,” Slobodan replied. “It is the original home of the weres. It is a land of wilderness and carnal luxuries. It is not the true home of minotaurs, but it is where we settled thousands of years ago when we were displaced from our world of origin.”
“Ah,” said Ruby. “Okay.” She was only able to wonder briefly if the Wisconsin she knew had been at all influenced by creatures from the Wisconsin of which Slobodan spoke, or if the shared name was purely a coincidence of letters, before Bloom said, “Go on. Tell us more about Taurus.”
“Taurus was a great leader. He ruled justly over the largest charge in minotaur history. When war in our homeland of Creton became too bloody and brutal, he led our people to new lands. He is said to have been not only a great leader but a fierce protector, and he was the one who first discovered the doorway to Wisconsin. Through it, he saw a land of hope, a place where minotaurs could be safe and flourish.
“But the legend says that the weres did not take kindly to our appearance, and even more vicious fighting ensued. When Taurus’s lover was killed at the hands of a werebear, he vowed to kill every last were he could find until his dying day. He abandoned his protective care of the minotaurs, who were then forced to disburse through many worlds to seek shelter, and pursued his vengeance until his last breath. And with that last breath, he pledged to rise again, this time stronger than before, because not even Death could defeat him for long. And when he did rise, he would continue his slaughter until the moon and sun collided in the sky.
“That is how it goes,” Slobodan concluded. “Of course, is it false.”
“You don’t believe there’s any truth in it?” asked Bloom. “Usually rumors and legends are based off of some shred of truth.”
“The only truth is the treatment of my people by werekind. It has always been cruel. But the rest is false. It must be because it happened in a time before history. And nothing can overcome Death.”
Ruby decided not to debate him on the issue and kept her mouth shut.
“So,” Bloom said, “Taurus is just a minotaur?”
“Taurus is not real.”
“No, I understand that, but I’m talking about in the story. Taurus is just a regular, if especially strong and vicious, minotaur?”
“Yes.”
She looked at Ruby. “The resurrection thing checks out at least.” Then she stood from her chair and Ruby did the same.
Clifford, who’d been sitting attentively by Ruby’s side and whose keen eyes had never left Slobodan, stood as well.
“Would it please you if I walked you to the door?” Slobodan asked without standing.
“Nope,” said Bloom, already making her way out of the room. “Thank you for your time,” she called over her shoulder.
And the minotaur replied, “I had no choice.”
Ruby chuckled. “He’s got a point.”
Once they were outside, Bloom sighed. “I told you minotaurs made for strange conversation.”
“I liked him,” replied Ruby as they walked down the sidewalk toward the narrow street. “In fact, I might have loved him.”
“Blunt, unromantic, house like an old crypt—he definitely seems more your type.”
“Than?”
“Zax.”
Ruby scoffed.
“And Ezra.”
“Ah, well anyone who’s aging normally is more my type than him.”
“Quinn Shaw is newly single and aging quite nicely. Should I tell him to call on you?”
Ruby shrugged, trying not to let the thought of the uptight leprechaun showing up on her doorstep with flowers annoy her. “At least he’s just about my height.”
Bloom glanced down at her. “Oh please, you have at least a foot on him.”
“I’ve always wanted to feel tall.” She looked around at the changing architecture. They were getting closer to town. “Where are we off to now?”
“The library.”
“Twist my arm, why don’t you? And what are we looking for?”
“Taurus.”
“Taurus, Taurus, Taurus. It’s all we ever talk about anymore.” She grunted. “And it’s all just a load of bull.”
Chapter Seven
Helena appeared about as irked as usual when Ruby called to her from the other side of the librarian’s desk. But when the elf looked up from her book and saw Gabby Bloom in full uniform, she bothered to set her reading to the side and stand. “Can I help you?” she asked, her tone sweet like poisoned honey.
Bloom smiled congenially. “Yes, I’m hoping you can direct me to any information you might have on Taurus.”
Helena arched an eyebrow and appeared delighted. “Taurus?”
“The minotaur, yes.”
And now the elf narrowed her eyes at the sheriff. “There’s only one reference to it that I know of. Very few people bother to write down every werebeast superstition. It would take an army of scribes centuries to do it, and by the time they finished, more superstitions would have been born from ignorance.”
“Yes,” sa
id Bloom, only the slightest edge of impatience in her voice, “I understand that. Regardless, I would love if you could direct me to that single reference.”
Helena shrugged. “It’s your time wasted.” She pointed to a row of shelves on the far side of the room. “It would be in our creature section. I believe it’s in volume three of A Wealth of Werebears.”
Bloom thanked the librarian and led the way over to the shelf. Ruby was well acquainted with this section, having spent many hours in it during her first few years in town, versing herself with all the many types of beings she might encounter both in this life and the next.
Because she was the first Fifth Wind witch Eastwind had seen in many, many years, she’d had no one to guide her and was forced to read book after book to get her feet under her. Thankfully, learning had always been her preferred method for passing the time. But unfortunately, it seemed like no matter how much she’d read, she was still behind. Wisconsin, for instance. How had she not heard of that realm before? Or maybe she had early on, and her aging mind had already forgotten it.
No, she wouldn’t go down that road.
She sidestepped quickly and narrowly avoided taking a heavy floating book to the abdomen. “Watch where you’re going,” she snapped at the distracted spirit.
He looked up, saw that Ruby was staring directly at him, blinked a few times, and then scurried off, disappearing down one of the dark tunnels leading off from the bright and spacious atrium.
Bloom located the book without much searching among the shelves and flipped it open. This was by no means their first trip to the library together, and while Ruby did love to read, Bloom’s hundreds (thousands?) of years of experience made her a speed reader to be reckoned with, so Ruby let her take the lead whenever it came up.
“Hmm…” said Bloom, her eyes still soaring over the words. She flipped the page and said “hmm…” again.
“Care to enlighten me?”
Bloom held up a finger to silence Ruby, then used that same finger to flip the page again. Then she flipped back to the previous page. “Hmm…”
“Oh, come out with it!”
