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The Centaur Queen (The Dark Queens Book 7) by Jovee Winters (12)

Chapter 12

Tymanon

I loved Petra’s hands, loved how he held me, how he made me feel smaller than him, though I wasn’t. But right now, I needed to protect him at all costs.

My heart beat painfully hard in my chest as I scented the feminine fragrance of jasmine and belladonna. Shaking my head, I pushed Petra behind me.

“Whatever you do, Petra, do not leave my side and do not look up. Do you hear me?” I whispered harshly, looking into the darkness of the tunnel before us.

The cave was large and dark but lit just enough that I could make out vague shapes and shadows. I could not tell how far the tunnel went, but I knew that she awaited us there.

“I’ve scented this before,” he said, his voice a dark whisper that made me shiver. “The Gorgon.”

I nodded once.

He bit down on his front teeth and then glanced over his shoulder. I knew what he was thinking. I’d thought it too.

We could not go forward, so maybe we could go back. But this was the Fates’ challenge. We could not escape this trial.

“Forward or back?” he asked.

Stuck between the proverbial rock and a hard place, I turned. The Gorgon’s hatred of men was legendary. Though she was no fan of females either, I would not turn to stone. Petra, on the other hand, would not be safe from her wrath.

I’d suspected we’d face the Gorgon when I’d seen the busts of the Fates. There’d been clues all along the way, if one knew where to look.

The stone beneath my feet vibrated as if something massive prowled inside the darkness.

“What is it?” he asked.

I shook my head as I sniffed the air. I’d known the Gorgon by scent alone. I’d read of her in my books. But I could not place the heady male aroma wafting down the tunnel now. It was bestial and potent. That could mean any number of possibilities.

I did not want to take Petra toward the Gorgon. I could handle myself, but if anything happened to him...

I steeled my jaw. “This way, then.” I felt his frown but did not look at him. Neither option was good, but I could fight a beast.

The tunnel was wide enough that I had no problem slipping my bow off my shoulder and nocking an arrow into place. My grip was lax, but I was prepared. As we walked, I noticed my broad body had no problem navigating the twists and turns that led us deeper and deeper into the belly of the cave.

Clearly, each trial was designed to fit each individual challenger.

“Talk to me,” I said, sensing his nerves.

Petra was a brave male, and I knew his worry was not for himself. But I needed him to be less anxious. His nervousness was distracting.

“About what?” he whispered.

I shrugged. “About your trial. What did you face?”

He sniffed, the sound almost like an exasperated chuckle. “Still trying to learn, álogo?”

“Don’t I always?” I grinned even as I steadied my nerves with deep-breathing exercises.

We were walking down a winding path that reminded me of a nautilus shell the way the spiraling tunnel got progressively smaller and smaller. This was clearly a funnel, and now the sounds were growing louder, more bullish—grunts and angry snorts, followed by heavy stomping that vibrated up my legs.

“My first challenge was a bevy of sirens.”

I chuckled despite my own growing nerves. “That must have been terrible for you, dear Petra.”

He heard the sarcasm and scoffed a laugh. “It was, actually.”

“Yes, I imagine it was a terror navigating their perky breasts and come-hither smiles.”

“You’ve no bloody idea, woman.”

“Were they beautiful? I’ve always heard they’re the prettiest things in all of Kingdom, though I’ve never had the pleasure of meeting any myself.”

“Yes, I thought so at the time. They’re part of the nymph family, you know.”

Mm.” My blood ran cold when I no longer heard the bullish sounds. If you heard a predator, you could find and kill it. It was what you didn’t hear that would likely kill you.

Petra smiled, laughing at memories of his past. A part of me was disheartened that Petra couldn’t sense the danger we were now truly in. The hunters had become the hunted. And yet I was also glad that he didn’t know. I would not have to deal with a panicked companion.

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.

But the terror of trying to find our way out kept my mind focused on something other than my own pain. Several times, we ran into our marks, but now we knew to turn down the other fork in the tunnel. Slowly but surely, we moved away from the dangerous heart of the maze and back toward where we’d started.

Sweat coated my human legs and back. My steps were faltering, and I was covered in my own blood. I hadn’t realized the Minotaur had cut me open until just now. All I needed to do was coat my hand in my healing salve and wrap it in bandages, and I’d be healed come morning. But right now, I felt sick to my stomach and wanted to retch.

We’d been running close to an hour, and I had just about reached my level of tolerance. We ran into another one of our marks, and this time, not one, but both of the branches bore our mark too.

I gasped, crying out as my knees trembled.

“Tymanon!” Petra roared right before I tripped and fell. He grabbed me up, holding me tight.

I clutched at his smooth, sweat-slickened shoulders and heaved for air as I leaned upon his chest. “I don’t... I don’t know how—”

He rubbed his hand down my head. “It’s okay, my love. It’s okay. You’ve done brilliantly.”

“This should have worked. I don’t know—”

A loud roar caused all the fine hairs on my body to stand on end. When I looked up, the Minotaur was charging straight at us, all seven feet and five hundred pounds of solid male muscle.

He was breathtakingly fast. I tried to grab for one of my arrows, but my hand refused to obey. I cried out as Petra shoved me behind him, twirled and, holding only his small dagger in hand, faced off with the beast.

“Petra, no!” I screamed as the mad creature with burning red eyes bore down on my male with the single-minded determination of a killer.

But in a move I recognized as one of my own, Petra took a running start, dropped to his knees, and slid behind the Minotaur before flicking his wrist.

When I’d performed that maneuver in the games, I’d not used a blade but a stone to bruise the Piper’s Achilles tendon, dropping her like a stone and rendering her useless for the rest of the match.

I’d not wanted to kill her, only stop her. But I knew, as well as Petra, that the only way to stop this beast was to give him no chance at all.

There was a roaring bellow that shook the stalactites dangling like sharp spires above our heads. The Minotaur fell like a massive tree, causing me to stumble and fall to my face. I held out my hands to brace myself and suffered for it, screaming out as the bones of my shattered hand sifted like sand between my fingers.

Lightheaded and dizzy, I crawled to my feet and, gasping and heaving, was instantly sick.

Álogo, come. Come.” Petra was tugging on my elbow, forcing me to stand. I felt drunk and unsteady, but he held me close, and we ran through an opening neither of us had seen since it’d been hidden behind the Minotaur.

The second we stumbled through it, a wall sealed shut behind us, and I knew we were out. I fell to my knees with a moan as my head filled with darkness and stars.

“My darling. My love,” he murmured, gripping my face in his strong hands. “Do not close your eyes. We need to leave this hell. Stay awake, Tymanon. Please stay awake.”

Shaking the darkness from my head, I fought through the pervasive need to sink into the abyss and forced myself to focus on placing one foot before the other.

Neither of us spoke as he walked us both out of the labyrinth, back up that winding, spiraling tunnel, and back to where it had all started. The scent of flowers permeated my head, and I listed back and forth.

“Petra.” I said his name like a prayer. He’d saved me, but we were far from done with this challenge. We’d not outwitted the Minotaur’s labyrinth. We’d gotten lucky. To leave this place, we’d have to defeat either the Minotaur or the Gorgon.

“Tymanon.” He kissed my forehead. “You’re so pale. You need rest. You need—”

I shook my head, knowing that if I stopped now, I might never wake up again. The darkness called to me, beckoned to me with its promise of freedom from the pain. I’d been useless back there, but here I could help him.

“Reach into my pouch,” I gasped, words sounded slurred to my ears. “Take out Wulfric’s finger.”

I’d not wanted Petra to face the Gorgon’s wrath, but we had no choice now.

He frowned, but said nothing, doing as I’d asked. “This?” He held up the tiny, bandaged parcel.

I nodded, leaning more of my weight on him. My stomach heaved again. I was going to be sick.

Sucking in a shaky breath, I forced myself to say, “Now sing. Walk us forward and sing.”

He blinked, confused for only a moment before he finally understood. “Thrall her? She will not like it, beloved. To abuse her in that way would be anathema to her.”

I nodded because he was right. There were few monsters in the ancient world more tragic than the Gorgon. Raped by a village of men and turned into a monster by a god because of it, she had not deserved her fate and raged against one and all who crossed her path.

But if we didn’t leave here soon, I would be no good to him anymore. I needed to heal, and to do that, I needed time without the threat of monsters breathing down our necks.

“I know.” I shook my head. “I know.”

Closing his eyes, he kissed my cheek. Then turning, he opened his mouth and sang.

The words were in a language I did not know but were full of power, stronger even than what he’d shown me last night. I sucked in a sharp breath as my body burned for his.

I did not know if it was my love for him that made it so all-consuming, or whether Petra was simply this powerful, but I knew the Gorgon would not stand a chance against it.

“Look at the ground, Petra. By the gods, do not look at her,” I warned.

“Yes, don’t look at me, male.” A voice I’d never heard before, but that shivered with the blunt edge of rage and longing, echoed all around us.

I sucked in a breath, and Petra faltered.

“Never stop singing, my love. Never stop,” I murmured.

Her laughter echoed like millions of bats’ wings, causing me to break out in chills. “Clever, girl. What do you want?”

Petra never stopped singing, understanding the gravity of our situation. It was only his voice that stayed her hand. I would be useless in a fight right now, and I was just barely clinging to consciousness. This would either work or it wouldn’t.

“To help you,” I said haltingly.

I could make out her vague form in the shadows, see the way her hair snapped and curled around her head. A soft, sibilant hiss whispered between us. My heart raced, pumped full of adrenaline.

“Help me? How dare you think you could—”

“I have a gift for you, Gorgon, a means of escape.”

She stepped into the light, and I trembled as I finally beheld the face of the monster.

She was beautiful, dressed in a diaphanous white Grecian gown that flowed like water behind her. Her skin was as pale as ivory and flawless like smooth marble. Her eyes were a clear gray, and her rosebud lips a lovely shade of pale pink. Chestnut-colored hair lay in a tumble, snapping and writhing, not hair at all, but hundreds of snakes with black beady eyes that stared back at me.

I did not see a monster when I looked at her, but a broken woman who had no hope.

She looked at the two of us, and I shivered, hoping Petra would not look upon her beauty. To do so would instantly petrify him.

“I cannot simply escape the Fates.”

“No,” I shook my head, “you can’t unless, of course, they knew and accepted what I had planned to do.”

She frowned.

Channeling the last bit of strength I had left, I took the finger from Petra’s grasp and walked slowly toward her. I sensed Petra stir behind me, but he never stopped singing.

I handed her the finger, which she took. Unwrapping it slowly, she stared down at it in awe. “Is this—?”

“The sixth finger of the stone dwarf king. With this magic, you can tunnel through any stone. You can find your freedom again.”

She trembled, pulling it close to her chest. “I was cursed. The gods would not want me free.” Clear gray eyes looked at me with a quiet sort of desperation that broke my heart.

I shook my head. “Perhaps not, Gorgon. But what happened to you should never have happened at all.”

She swallowed hard. “Had your man not tempered my anger, I would have killed you both.”

I nodded.

“Who are you?” Thrusting out her jaw, I could almost swear I saw heat shimmering in her eyes. She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. You have done me a great honor today. You pass this challenge, female. Both of you are free. But more than that, I owe you a boon, so I humbly ask you to accept my gift of stone.”

Petra’s singing stuttered, and I shook my head. I did not think the Gorgon wanted to hurt others, but the burden of her pain was so deep it overwhelmed her and made it impossible for her to stop.

A single tear slipped out of the corner of her eye as she said, “Catch the tear, female.”

Even I could not touch that tear. It would turn me to stone. But I knew that somehow, just as the finger had been important to the successful completion of this trial, so too would the tear.

Suddenly Petra stood beside me, holding up an empty vial. Tossing him a grateful look, I uncorked it, and the Gorgon neared, tipping her head forward so that the lip of the vial caught on that tear.

A curl of smoke wound through the air like a serpent’s tail when it landed safely within. Her own snakes were calm, blinking and flicking out their tongues, but not to attack.

“And now we are even, female,” she said. “I will never harm you, but that is not a promise I make to your male. Fare thee well.”

Just as before when the Fates had whispered those same words to me, we were back in the garden where we’d started.

Petra opened his arms, and I sank gratefully into them, finally able to give in to the darkness.

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