Paranormal Chaos

by Joshua Roots

  “Understood.”

  “Her rack is having the same effect on me,” Steve muttered in a low voice as he gazed at our escort. I glanced at him and he waggled his eyebrows.

  The hike from the bridge to the headquarters of Centaur Land took less than thirty minutes, but it seemed shorter because I was transfixed by the beauty around us. Within the confines of their homeland, the trees seemed larger and brush thicker. The cold was present, but there was no snow, only the lingering scent of chilly rain. Yet despite the harsh winter, life pulsated from the flora all around us. It screamed with energy and hope, just waiting to be released. I could only imagine what the region looked and felt like during the spring when everything was in full bloom.

  Eventually we wound through the forest to a massive wooden enclosure that extended well into the distance. Constructed of trees that were wider than the redwoods in the Muir Woods, the perimeter wall towered far above us. Half a dozen guards in leather armor and sporting wicked swords stood before an enormous gate.

  They slammed a fist against their breastplates and bowed formally as one cried, “Hail, Lady Ochlea.”

  “Hail.” She mimicked the gesture but without the bow. “Let us in.”

  The guards all paused, giving me and Steve the stink-eye.

  “Now.”

  They moved quickly, shouting the order to someone on the other side. The gates ground open slowly and silently.

  I’m not sure what I was expecting from the Centaur camp. Maybe giant horse rings and fancy paddocks. What I was presented with was nothing short of breathtaking. The camp was circular and comprised of squat wood homes with large doors arranged in neat curved rows. Wide dirt paths ran between the single-story houses, all of which surrounded a central square with numerous ornate buildings. At its heart stood a massive structure dripping with vegetation and finely carved statues.

  Lady Ochlea lifted her head in pride. “Welcome to our home, human.”

  “It’s stunning.”

  She looked down, nodding with approval. “I am pleased you feel that way. Now follow me. Chief Phrixus is waiting.”

  * * *

  “Your warnings are dire indeed, Warlock,” the leader of the Centaurs said some time later.

  We were seated inside the official council chambers for the clan. Steve and I occupied one “stall” while the chief, Lady Ochlea, and a high-ranking advisor faced us, each inside their own. According to the lady, the stalls were used by the various clan leaders for policy creation or political debate.

  As a representative of the Minotaurs and the Council respectively, Steve and I had been granted a direct voice to the chief instead of being required to go through a delegate. Steve mentioned that it was a great honor and we should do everything in our power to show our respect. As such, I graciously accepted the ceremonial bucket of oats, but I couldn’t bring myself to eat more than a handful. I’d been hungry earlier, but the smell of manure in the building crushed my appetite.

  I dumped my uneaten oats back into the wooden pail. “I’m glad to hear that, Chief. And please, call me Marcus.”

  He grinned slightly. “Marcus it is then.”

  I dipped my head formally. “Thank you.” I cleared my throat and addressed the delegates. “I think we can all agree that with the Minotaurs threatening to separate from the Reformation Treaty, the rest of the paranormal world is in grave danger. Unity is the key to maintaining the peace, both with other clans and with the human world. And since your people carry significant weight among the various species, many will follow your lead. Therefore, the Council wishes to formally shore up support for the treaty, and your commitment to the cause will go a long way to achieving that goal.”

  “What say you, Minotaur?” Chief Phrixus asked Steve. “Are your people truly seeking independence or are they bluffing?”

  “We don’t bluff. If the Alpha issued a secession notice, she damn well means it.”

  “A bold decision,” the chief replied. “I, like many of the clan leaders, would have preferred the courtesy of notice before such an action was taken.”

  “No offense, but the Minotaurs tend not to think about other species too often.”

  “True.” Phrixus chuckled, but there was no humor in it. Then he turned to his advisor, an older Centaur with long white hair and a face filled with wrinkles. Or perhaps scars. They were so deep that it was hard to tell. “Lycidas, what are your thoughts?”

  “While I don’t disagree with the Warlock,” the weathered creature said, “the issue at hand is not so much the breakdown of the treaty as it is a question of how it affects our people. Like many of our paranormal brethren, we’ve been left mostly undisturbed over the generations. Humans don’t venture into these woods very often, and the few who do are easy enough to deal with. I doubt that will change anytime soon, so any danger to us in this matter is likely minimal.”

  I shuddered. I’d already seen how they’d “dealt with” one group of accidental intruders.

  Phrixus bowed to his advisor. “Thank you. Lady Ochlea?”

  The warrior glared at me. “Lycidas has struck the heart of the matter. If the Minotaurs do seek independence, will that actually affect us? Do they, or even the humans, pose any threat at all?”

  All eyes turned to me.

  Crap, she was sharp.

  Okay, here was hoping that all those months of listening to how my bureaucratic peers addressed one another on official matters would pay off. Or, if it didn’t, that I could genuflect my way into the chief’s heart.

  “Good questions,” I admitted. “And I wish I could answer them. The reality is that I don’t know. Steve tells me that both your people have lived peacefully in isolation for a long time, so there’s no telling if the Minotaur independence would threaten you. As for my species, Centaurs and humans haven’t had a dust-up in recent, or even ancient, history. Heck, we’ve barely even crossed paths in the last thousand years. So yes, there may not be a threat at all. Conversely, our worlds are expanding day by day, so at some point we are going to butt up against one another. When that day comes, it makes sense to have a layer of protection in place. Considering the growth of the Underground over the last few years, I think we’re pretty close to that happening.

  “That said, we may be approaching this from the wrong angle. Rather than question if breaking the treaty will do you any harm, perhaps we should be asking whether or not maintaining it exposes you to danger. Let’s say for the moment that you decide to remain on board. What do you lose by continuing our allegiance?”

  The Centaurs looked at one another but remained silent.

  I suppressed a grin.

  Phrixus turned back to me. “You make a valid argument, Warl—Marcus. The treaty has had little impact on us since its signing, but if the human world believes it has helped keep the peace, then I see no reason to break it now. Barring any objections from my two advisors here, we’d be willing to maintain the status quo.”

  More silence.

  The chief nodded. “So be it.”

  While my heart bounced around inside my chest in victory, I made every effort to keep a polite, professional exterior.

  I bowed formally. “The Delwinn Council and I are honored, Chief Phrixus. May our children’s children know nothing but peace.”

  Phrixus beamed at the traditional Centaur phrase of respect. “And may their children’s children know nothing but love.”

  Thank goodness I’d paid attention to at least some of the paranormal history classes during training. My old professors might have been serious bores, but they had been a wealth of information. If only I’d stayed awake more often.

  The chief clapped his hands together. “Well now, since the formalities of this meeting are out of the way, I believe we should show our guests to their quarters. I’m sure they would appreciate some rest bef
ore they continue on their way.”

  “Very much so,” I replied.

  “Wonderful. I shall escort you to your chambers while Lady Ochlea will take the Minotaur.”

  Steve grinned. “I’d like that.”

  “Ass,” the woman muttered, and trotted out of the council room. My buddy followed. I waited on the chief while he tidied up his stall.

  “Lady Ochlea doesn’t seem to like my friend,” I said, once we were outside.

  Phrixus laughed. “She’s a hard woman for sure, but she has a soft center. It’s one of the many reasons she’s my betrothed.”

  I blinked. “Congratulations. You have an impressive wife.”

  He waved at several Centaurs who bowed as we passed. “We’re not joined yet. I’ve simply informed her that we shall be in the future.”

  “That’s...very proactive.”

  He raised his eyebrows. “You don’t pick your mates?”

  “We do, but they usually have equal say in the relationship.”

  Phrixus looked at me with shock. “Such a bizarre concept. How in the world does your species procreate?”

  “Aggressively.”

  “And it’s consensual?”

  “It should be.”

  He shook his head. “That’s far too arbitrary for my people. We thrive through the strength of our bloodlines. Ochlea is one of the strongest and most desirable females in the clan. As such, she’s one of the few worthy to bear my foals.”

  “What if she isn’t interested?”

  The chief burst into laughter. “Why wouldn’t she be? Don’t women in your world seek the most powerful or influential as their mates?”

  “Some, sure. But if that was the case with everyone, I wouldn’t stand a chance with my girlfriend.”

  He gazed down at me. “You don’t give yourself enough credit, human. After all, you’re speaking almost on equal grounds with the leader of the greatest species on the planet. Almost,” he added with a grin. “But as much as you may or may not think yourself worthy, be mindful that all creatures need to know they’re chosen. Leave that question unanswered for too long and your mate will seek another willing to claim her.”

  “Trust me, I’m working on it.”

  The chief winked. “A wise choice.”

  I forced a smile. Getting relationship advice from a Centaur was starting to rank pretty high on my Awkwardness Scale. Hell, it was weird whenever Steve and I discussed it, and he was my closest friend.

  Phrixus halted before a squat hut. “Here you are.”

  “Thank you, Chief. Both for your time and for your advice.”

  “A leader leads, Marcus. Whether it’s his own people or those who require his guidance. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must speak with my betrothed. Rest well for the remainder of the day and we’ll see you off tomorrow at sunrise.”

  He bowed his head, then trotted down the street.

  Entering the hut, I unhitched my sword with a grateful sigh. With Phrixus’s pledge of allegiance, we were significantly closer to a solution for the Minotaur problem. There were still a lot of dead ends or false paths we could wind up navigating, but at least we were headed toward the heart of the matter instead of walking around in circles.

  For once, luck was smiling in my favor.

  A cry ripped through the village, shattering the calm that was beginning to settle into my bones. Adrenaline dumped into my system and I buckled my sword to my back once more. I charged out of the hut to see what was happening.

  Based on the shouts filling the camp, I fully expected to find the Centaurs under attack. Instead, I saw Steve bolting toward me at full speed, struggling to hold up his trousers.

  “We should go,” he said as he blasted by me. I started to protest, but froze at the sight of dozens of fully armed Centaurs pouring into the streets.

  “Scoundrel,” Phrixus boomed from the front the herd. His face was contorted in rage, and blood streamed from his nose.

  One of the charging horse-folks notched an arrow into a bow, which kicked my feet into high gear. I raced after my friend as fast as I could move.

  “What the hell happened?” I asked as the pounding of hooves filled my ears.

  “Cretin,” the chief cried. “Adulterer!”

  “Please tell me you didn’t hook up with Lady Ochlea,” I yelled.

  Steve kept his attention ahead of him.

  “You idiot.”

  “All she said was that her life was complicated, but she was opting to make her own decisions. Nothing more.”

  “And that didn’t send up red flags?”

  “Now it does,” he said defensively. “She initiated it, by the way.”

  He juked sideways as an arrow slammed into the doorframe of a nearby hut. “Yeah, we should get the hell out of their territory as fast as possible.”

  “Ya’ think?”

  I wanted to lambaste him more, but a small herd suddenly filled the path before us. There was no way to duck past and I wasn’t about to open fire on them. Yet tapping into my powers would break the oath I’d agreed to upon entering their land, and the blowback from that would suck my Skill dry. Or worse.

  Dammit.

  Gritting my teeth, I chose the lesser of two evils and drew my sword. Then I reached out to the air around us, connecting with the environment. My senses buzzed like a swarm of bees as the supercharged elements vibrated against my powers. Grabbing as much of it as I could stand, I shaped the air into an invisible boulder, then swiped my sword at the creatures blocking our path. The spell sailed across the distance in an instant, scattering Centaurs like bowling pins.

  “Nice, dude,” Steve cried, hurtling over a set of flailing legs.

  I heaved for breath as I skirted around a pair of arms that reached up from the ground. Fear helped me pump my legs harder. Unlike most of my peers, I’d learned to fight without Skill, but hadn’t realized how much I’d come to rely on it in recent years. The barrier spell would hit me any moment and I wasn’t sure we’d be able to make it out alive without my powers.

  My terror turned to confusion when, instead of emptiness, a tidal wave of energy swelled within me. The environment all around teemed with life, and my Skill was hungrily feeding off of it. With each step, it soaked up every available iota to recharge my system.

  I continued to run after Steve, wondering what the hell was going on. Where was the explosion of payback magic? Why hadn’t I been bled dry?

  Then it dawned on me: the Centaurs had initiated this fight, not me.

  Well, hot damn. Apparently the devil was in the details, even in the paranormal world.

  But just because I’d escaped the oath on a technicality didn’t mean we were out of the woods yet. There was a lot of distance between us and safety, and my abilities would only get us so far.

  A pair of Centaurs emerged from a hut, swords at the ready. Steve barreled into one, knocking the poor guy off his hooves. I, on the other hand, dropped and slid on my butt through the muddy streets like I was stealing second base. The second Centaur’s sword missed decapitating me, and I was already on my feet on the other side of him by the time he recovered enough to pursue.

  We skidded around a corner, plowing through another group of Centaurs with a combination of Steve’s mass and more of my Air Spells. Up ahead, the gates of the city closed with a bang.

  “Show them what you can do,” Steve called, but I was already a step ahead of him. I reached deep into my Skill, collecting as much power as I could handle. Then I dragged my sword through the muck and swiped it toward the gates. The earth ripped upward, tearing across the distance like a muddy missile. The guards dove out of the way as the column of dirt solidified. It crashed into the wooden structure with titanic force, blasting the doors off their hinges with a deafening boom.

&nbs
p; “Hell, yeah,” Steve whooped as we sprinted through the gaping hole and into the surrounding woods. “We should be fine once we reach the creek. Which should be this way.”

  “Should?”

  “It’ll take me a moment to reorient.”

  “Awesome,” I muttered and followed my friend, praying that we’d clear the Centaur territory before the thunder of hooves behind us caught up.

  Chapter 7

  Homecoming

  “Minos sought the advice of the oracle Delphi, who told the great king that only inside a Labyrinth would the young monster no longer threaten his people. So Minos commissioned Daedalus, and the great maze was built.”

  —The Legend of Ariadne

  The trip from the creek at the edge of the Centaur homeland to the Minotaur border was surprisingly quick considering the distance we covered. Fueled by a desire to reach our next destination before dark, we returned to the Bangor Underground considerably faster than we’d departed it. Once inside, we hiked through the empty streets to a different doorway within the node. This time when we exited, the snow-covered woods that greeted us were a couple hundred miles to the northwest. Steve sniffed the air, pointed us toward the descending sun, and led us into the trees.

  I said little during the long, exhausting trek. Between the chill stinging my exposed skin and the ache in my ribs, I wasn’t in the mood to talk. Yet as we plunged deeper into the Canadian wilderness, the more my frustration over Steve’s antics went from a simmer to a boil. By the time we stopped for a food break at the base of an enormous mountain in Middle-of-Nowhere-Canada, I was fueled up for a fight.

  Steve, however, was prepared.

  “Before you start, I want to apologize. Again. I didn’t know Ochlea was betrothed to Phrixus until he walked in on us. And yes, I realize that between trying to bang her and punching him in the face, I may have screwed over the Reformation Treaty in the short term. But I also know that their beef is with me and not you or the Council, which means once Phrixus cools down, he’ll likely honor his agreement. But just in case, when we’re done with the Minotaurs, I’ll march right back over there and do everything I can to repair any damage I may have caused. Deal?”