The Centaur Queen (The Dark Queens #7)(42)

I sniffed the stale breeze that coursed through the tunnel, picking up the faint odor of gore. The scent of rot I’d smelled earlier had come from here, but not the scent of stone from the Gorgon. I was beginning to worry I’d chosen wrong. I think I knew what stalked us, and if I was right, it was very bad.

“They tried to drown me,” he said softly as we rounded yet another bend.

It was getting harder for me to maneuver through this part of the cave. Soon I’d be forced to shift to my human form. I was far weaker in that form than in this one.

I heard the faint slide of metal ringing. The beast was close.

“Did they? And how did you escape?”

“I sang to them.”

I’d only been giving our conversation half an ear, but now I turned and looked at him, stopping briefly. “You sang to them? Like you did to me last night?” The sirens were nymphs, and after what his song had done to me, I could see how that pleasure could be turned into a weapon.

A clever smile curled his lip. “I am a satyr, my álogo, and a rather homely one at that. Do you honestly believe that my nymphs liked me for my looks?” His eyes sparkled.

“I like your looks,” I said softly.

“Yes. Well, clearly you’re blind, my love.”

I snorted and shook my head. But now I was thinking we should have headed toward the Gorgon after all. He’d not known until last night that his satyr’s song could affect any female, be they nymph or no. Why hadn’t I thought of his song before? I started walking again, debating the pros and cons of turning back now.

We were almost upon the beast. The walk back would only cause us to stay longer in this place. The sooner we left, the better and surely, I could handle any beast.

But Petra could have helped me with the Gorgon. His magic was a siren’s call all its own.

“Petra,” I said softly as we neared the next bend, “perhaps we should—”

We turned the corner, and two things happened at once. First, the tunnel suddenly grew so confining that I scraped the hide right off my sides, forcing me to shift swiftly lest I remain wedged where I was.

Second, a shaggy, beastly hand reached for mine and yanked with the strength of ten thousand men, shattering every bone in my hand. The pain was immediate and exquisite. Snatching it back, I screamed, curling my crushed hand to my chest protectively. If I’d not been wearing the braces, it would have ripped my arm clean off.

“Petra, run!” I yelled.

He and I both tried to turn back, but there was a wall of stone where the tunnel had once been. Petra was pounding on the wall with a look of steely terror scrawled upon his thick brow.

The bull—which was no bull at all, but the Minotaur—had vanished back into the shadows. What we faced now was the winding, sloping maze of a labyrinth.

With a final, forceful kick, Petra whirled on me, mouth open, ready to say something, when suddenly he gaped and stared down.

“Ty, your hand!”

His acknowledgement of my injury made it feel a million times worse. I’d never felt such pain before in my life, and a shot of cold adrenaline zipped down my spine, causing me to break out in a sweep of sweat and making me sway dizzily.

I blinked. “I... I can’t... use my bow.”

The Minotaur stomped, and a wild, angry growl reverberated against the stone. Petra yanked me to him, turning down the only opening ahead of us. We were well and truly part of the Minotaur’s maze now.

Shock tried to grip me, but Petra’s words penetrated my haze.

“Be smart for us both, Ty. I need you. Can you do that?” He turned and turned, and I followed, feeling the blooming ache in my hand spread and spread and spread, consuming all of me.

“Tymanon, my love,” he pleaded with a broken voice as he turned and twisted us all around.

I could hear the breathing of the Minotaur behind us, smell its fetid breath draw closer and closer.

The Minotaur had once been a man, but he’d been cursed by the gods and was now dumb and blind. Consumed by his bestial nature, he was a creature that lived for the hunt and for food.

Wall after wall rose up before us, blocking our way. Petra was forced to backtrack, to run to the left, to the right, taking us deeper and deeper into the beast’s lair. The threads of my sanity slowly returned as I realized Petra was falling right into the beast’s trap.

The labyrinth was designed to disorient its victim, to lead us to a point where we were ensnared with no hope of escape. Our deaths would be swift, but brutal.

“We’re going in circles.” My voice was a broken sound.

Petra’s eyes were wide and panicked. “Tell me where to go, Ty. Tell me what to do, and I’ll do it. Stay with me.”

I blinked, trying to ignore the tremor in my arm. Hugging my hand to my breast, I gritted my teeth and shut down all thought of anything but escape. The thunderous hooves of the Minotaur were to the right of us. Two paths branched off nearby. The one in front of us lead deeper into the maze. The one behind us lead toward the beast.

“Get a marker. Something to write with,” I snapped at him.

Reaching into his pouch he yanked out a bit of shell. “Will this do?”

I grunted. “Mark any path we take. If we see the marking, then we’ve been down that way already, and we turn back. Now hurry.”

The process was slow-going and dangerous. There’d been a moment when I’d caught just a glimpse of the Minotaur’s shaggy head and wickedly curved horns as we’d rounded a corner.