by Naomi Lucas
“It’s given me hope—” she started.
Hope.
“And a strange sort of excitement.”
Vedikus snorted, and released some of the built up steam in his chest, helping Aldora over a steep, mossy rise. Before long, the boulders that littered the rocky paths were replaced with shrubs, and as they crested the first summit, giant black trees met them for the final ascent. Aldora gasped, and he pressed her closer to him. He refused to look at the trees directly because of their ominous sight, like dozens of dark needles impaling exposed flesh.
They are our greatest defense. Even if his brothers didn’t agree.
But to walk among them was like walking through his home now, even when the mist darkened them to jagged teeth. Blood red markers appeared on the trees ahead in his periphery, all painted seasons past by his clan as a final line of warning.
His eye caught something else... Fresh footprints leading back the way they came.
Vedikus released Aldora and turned to see them end at the rocky path down below, but the shape and indent of them were unmistakable. They were the footprints of one of his kin, and fresh. His eyes narrowed on them.
“What’s wrong?” Aldora asked, moving back against his side where her shivers lessened.
“One of my brothers passed through here recently, descending down to the paths we had just walked.”
“But we saw no one, nor heard anything but the wind?” Her head moved as she took in the unshrouded area around them. “Right?”
Vedikus leaned down briefly to smell the soil. His nose twitched, but he found no traces of magic. Why has my brother not sought us out? “They must have been made during the night,” he mumbled, straightening.
“Then we may have missed them when...” Aldora trailed off, a blush forming on her cheeks.
“Yes,” he said with the sudden need to investigate further. Vedikus folded Aldora back into his embrace as a reminder that he had far more important things to take of. There will be a reason, but it will have to wait. “Let us continue, we are not far away now, and I would like to have you in my furs before the light begins to fade.”
“Are you sure? If this is important, we can follow his tracks.”
“No. You are cold and vastly under-equipped now for residing these lands. Let us go home.”
“Then we will come back prepared and find our answers.”
Vedikus grunted in agreement, settling one hand on his battle axe. The crunch of dead leaves sounded as they made their way up the steep cliff, following the tracks all the way to the top until they faded and were lost when dirt returned to rock. Aldora’s breathing grew more hoarse and labored with each minute that passed, regardless of how much he helped her.
It did not sit well with him that one of his brothers might have gone past their camp the night before, knowing that it was a well-used one among the Bathyr during long scouting trips. The enchantments placed would have alerted the entire clan of its disturbance, like a tiny prick to the back of his neck. When the magic sparked, it had a distinct feeling, unmistakable like its smell. He did not know one of his brothers who would pass a clan member by. The human with me is enough to put the Bathyr on high alert. Her scent will permeate the air.
Aldora interrupted his thoughts, inhaling as she spoke. “Will you tell me more about your brothers?” Sweat glistened her brow, and parts of her loose dress clung despite the chill. “Will they expect much from me?”
“Only your contribution and your strength of will because that is what I expect. They will take you in as one of their own because you are mine. Do not worry what they think nor want, that is not your concern, nor should it ever be.”
“But you were kicked out of your last tribe, I do not want the same to happen to me. I don’t think I could live through another journey through this labyrinth.”
Vedikus looked at her idly. “We were not kicked out, we left at our own accord.”
“You have not said why...”
His hand squeezed the shaft of his weapon as the words burned his throat. She deserves to know. He had no qualm about Aldora knowing his past, even if it could hurt his kind. Like all beasts in this place, secrets were kept close, and minotaurs had little to no weaknesses as is. He knew she would not tell another monster, if only because he would never allow Aldora outside the realm of his control.
“When Steelslash brought my mother home, he brought something else with him as well. Something unseen and dangerous. The elders of the tribe did not know of it until many years later, and whether it was their chief that was responsible or my mother, is lost to history despite my brothers’ and my best efforts.”
“Worse than the mists?”
“Yes. During the reign of my sire, our tribe was unstoppable, nomadic, and we traveled the dead lands victoriously for many years. The dead lands are where the minotaur come from, the world which was consumed by the mists eons ago, deep inland, where there is nothing but old paths, crumbling ruins, and giants that roam unhindered. It is a different way of life from that led near humanity. We were hundreds strong when I was birthed, and with two hands, and two horns, we all carried more weapons than the average being.
“My mother was the first human brought back to us in over a century. The last was a human man who was mated with a female. He died before I was born. Once, I have been told, there had been dozens who lived among us in the past, but as the world changed and my kind did not move closer to the land of humans, they all but died out. The blood among us weakened greatly, and in turn, the mists closed in. As the years passed, we became more animalistic, digressing back to the creatures we were before.”
“Arriving with your mother must have been a big deal...” Aldora shifted nervously at his side.
“Yes. It gave them hope.” Vedikus spat out the word, hating it. He focused on his female’s scent and the soft feel of her against him until his hate slipped away. “Hope that history would replay, and it did, for a time.” They came upon a plateau that looked out over the lands that lay between them in those he spoke about. Those that lay beyond the expanse of mountains that took weeks to traverse. Those where his old tribe still roamed, even to this day. “There is nothing worse than false hope.”
“I have hope, Vedikus. Someday I will teach you that it isn’t so bad. You took away mine for a single moment, and that feeling,” she paused and swallowed, “was frightening, but then you replaced it, and now... It’s nearly all I feel. It does not feel bad.”
“It’s trickery,” he argued. “It’s a quiet lie.”
“But why work so hard to stay alive in this desolate place without it? You feel it even if you won’t accept it. You told me it was only our strength and our knowledge that supplies you with the ability to survive here, but why work so hard for something if there is no end-goal in mind? We would all be nothing but thralls if true hope was lost.”
He grunted. “Willpower and tenacity, proof of one’s worth, loyalty and the ability to kill, to feed, have nothing to do with such an emotion. Hope is the labyrinth’s greatest curse, not the mist. That dangling thread has killed more of my kind than any centaur assault or goblin trap.” The airy brume swirled and shifted across the landscape as if it heard him. Vedikus turned, bringing Aldora with him as they moved toward a hidden path along the cliff-face behind boulders that had been placed seasons ago. He glanced up and pointed to several others above. “You see those rocks? They are made to fall on those who find this path. If you are ever here without me, do not try and walk through the bushes, but follow the edge instead, they will not fall if you know where to step. I will not lose you to carelessness.”
She nodded and placed her feet where his were a moment before, following his movements. “You may be right but I do not believe it. If it takes the rest of my life, I will change your mind. Hope is the only truth,” she said with conviction.
His lips lifted. “I will look forward to you trying every day.”
“You say that now,” she laughed softly. “S
o it was hope that your father brought to your tribe. I do not see how that would lead to you and your brothers leaving.”
“Steelslash did bring hope, but that was not what I was speaking of, female. He brought ruin.” The memories rose up like poisonous weeds in his skull. “He brought with him infertility, or so he was accused of many years later. During his reign, the only female who was able to conceive was my mother, and those who were heavy with child when they returned, all lost them before their birth. The babies just died without cause, and as this continued throughout his years leading, with my brothers being the only young of our tribe, the power he had so deftly built faded to resentment and paranoia. The Bathyr were looked upon with anger, my brothers and I were at once fought over by the other clans as studs, thinking we would cure our infertility but also as enemies. We had been born with gifts the others had not, and as we grew to adulthood, we found ourselves unbeatable. We became the tribes greatest warriors, but also their greatest threat.”
Vedikus paused and hoisted Aldora, helping her over a high rise to a larger path above. The last road home.
“They blamed you for this tragedy?” she asked.
When he pulled himself over the edge, digging his hooves into the rock, he saw the footprints from earlier and the last small woods that hid his home from the many fiends that flew the skies.
“We are close now,” he said, holding her close to his chest where he wrapped his arms tightly around her, drawing out the cold of her flesh. “They thought my father made a pact to bring my mother back, they blamed him for their inability to propagate. It was not something that was ignored, and when my brothers and I aged and no new blood was available to take the places of the warriors we lost over the years, it became Steelslash’s obsession to pursue battle, because without bulls to overpower his enemies, he raged easily. We were forced to settle.
“By doing so was his greatest mistake, for when the tribe stopped, they had nothing else to divert their attention. My flesh is rent with scars from those days, but it was what happened next that changed the fate of the Bathyr forever. Steelslash died, suddenly, and the tribe turned on my mother, assuming this had all happened because she was a witch. I was not nearby when they took her...”
“Took her where?” Aldora peered up at him, forehead furrowed.
“I do not know. None of us do. Some said she walked off with a broken heart and never returned, some say she killed herself, others insist she was killed, captured, lost, gone. My elder brother, Dezetus, seized power despite all the bloodshed, and even then, no one came forth with the truth. My mother would have never left, of that, we can be certain. Not when her mate’s body was fresh. We buried his body without ritual and with much bloodshed among us. When it was apparent no answers would be forthcoming, Dezetus suggested we leave. In turn, the Bathyr abandoned their tribe to whatever fate they forged, without their best warriors. It was the only way to stop the needless killing, the fighting, and now we live to build a new tribe, a dynasty that would rule these lands with iron hooves and sharpened blades.” He smelled smoke and hints of cooked meat in the air. “If there was one way to stop the infertility of our female minotaur, it was through human blood.”
“Me...”
“Yes.”
“What if I can’t?” Her eyes widened, and her hands left him to land on her belly.
“You are not afflicted with whatever has fallen upon my people. We have lost the old ways, and our gods are watching. I was not looking for a human, female or otherwise, when you heard me, but scouting and honing my strength for the time when we were ready. But fate had another idea, and it is time to stop preparing and to start rebuilding.” As he said it, the large, black, wooden fence appeared through the trees that bordered up to the craggy walls of the mountain. Upon first glance, there appeared to be no gate within the matte black facade. “Come and be at ease for we have arrived.”
Aldora pulled away from him and dropped her hands, gazing at the barrier before them. Vedikus felt a devious smirk twitch his lips, but did not let her see it. These walls were not unlike those that kept the mists inside, but without vines and growth, without footholds and places to clutch for climbing. We are on the same side this time, female. His prick thickened under his loincloth. His weariness faded.
“I’m nervous,” she admitted, lifting one hand to her mouth.
“Then you are feeling what we want all trespassers and those who are brought here to feel. Know, from this point on, all strangers who look upon your home will feel the same.”
Vedikus breathed deeply, taking in the smoke that was thicker here, already picturing the cooking fires inside his head, picturing his home, his trophies of past kills, and weapons he had either collected or made hanging on the walls of his den. I see Aldora among them. She will be impressed with my prowess, not fear it.
He wanted the awed look in her eyes when he showed off his skulls. He wanted the same look on her face when he ravaged her before them.
He lifted his head and roared, stamping his hoof in greeting. No one returned the call.
“Wait here,” he said, unsheathing his weapons and approaching the hidden gate. It was sealed tight. He studied the wood but found no markings nor any other traces of tampering. He neither smelled blood or bile or rot either, and he searched for a hint of it in the wind.
“I have returned!” Vedikus called out again, stepping back.
This time a call was returned. “Hold!”
He narrowed his eyes and sheathed one of his weapons, turning to collect Aldora, but she was directly behind him with her dagger in hand. “You will not need that, female.”
The gate wooshed open.
***
Aldora bent and slipped her weapon back into her boot, rising when a minotaur appeared at the gate. Her throat constricted despite the excitement coursing through her.
Will they accept me? Will they all be like Vedikus?
She did not think she could soften more than one warrior minotaur in her lifetime, let alone five. A morbid hope filled her at the prospect of more humans being brought here. Aldora buried the thought.
Her back stiffened when the minotaur approached.
He was bigger than Vedikus but only in height, with one horn broken at mid-point. It’s midpoint broken off in smooth detail, making the scars of on his face even more pronounced. He was dressed the same as Vedikus, mostly naked but for a thick leather loincloth that covered his front and back, leaving the sides of his powerful thighs exposed. His legs and feet were also those of a bull’s, but whereas Vedikus had a lighter appearance, this one had black fur with shoulder length hair to match upon his head. Part of his face was hidden behind it.
She reached up and gently placed her hand on Vedikus’s arm, her heart settling at the touch.
“A human,” the new minotaur rasped, stilling when his eyes landed on her.
“Her name is Aldora and she is your sister now. My mate.”
The minotaur’s mouth hardened which accentuated the rough markings of his flesh even more. How could someone survive so much pain? She rubbed her wrists.
“How?” Dezetus asked, his tone darkening.
“You demand answers after a long journey. We will speak later once we have settled. Aldora can not handle the cold like we can.”
She glanced between the two minotaurs, noting their rigidity. I’m not surprised. At least she knew what to expect.
“Hail,” she said with as much courage as she could muster.
Dezetus’s frown deepened, and he did not greet her back. “Then settle and rest fast, for we have much to speak about and I have little taste for patience.” He turned and stormed back through the gate.
Vedikus’s snorted and re-sheathed his axe roughly. Aldora captured his free hand and tangled her fingers with his, walking with him through the eerie black gate. Beyond the barrier, she was shocked to find ruins—ruins that were not so different from her own world. The skeletal, gothic buildings were familiar to her. Their hist
ory apparent at first glance.
Remnants of Savadon.
Dezetus was nowhere to be seen.
“Where are the others?” she asked as Vedikus led her further in. They stopped short at one of the many buildings built into the rocks.
“Astegur is not here as you know, and unless he has returned before us, only Dezetus, Hinekur, and Thyrius are here standing guard. We are small, but not rash. I will see you inside before a new illness has a chance to take over where the last has been evicted.” He pulled back a leather skin hanging in the entryway with an unusual pattern that she could not place and waited until she passed inside.
Light filtered through a stone opening above the arch of the door but from nowhere else. She stepped, and into what appeared to once be a home, long ago. Aldora wrapped her arms around herself as she made her way through the space. More light brightened her view when a second window was opened.
So human.
Her heart strummed, taking in the cryptic space, and accepting the fact that she felt like she belonged here where Vedikus did not. His horns scrapped the ceiling in agreement.
The only thing that didn’t feel entirely human was the decoration. Every wall in every room was covered in skins of monsters and animals that she had no name for, and some she shuddered to consider asking about. Despite the walls being covered, the only room that felt inhabited was the first. There was a stone oven built into the wall, and a single stool in the corner with whetstones and weapons lining the walls to its sides. In front of the oven was a large pile of furs she assumed was a bed.
Her mouth watered looking at it.
Relief flooded her senses.
“We spent the majority of our life as nomads and know little of keeping a home.”
Aldora smiled. “This was once made by humans.”
“Does it suit you?”
“More than you could know.” She raised her gaze to meet his dark one. He hovered over her and invaded her space, and for a brief second, Aldora closed her eyes and let herself drown in his consuming presence. It comforted her.