Page 5 of Minotaur's Secret Baby
I shake the thoughts off and keep going down the path that I know leads out to the edges of the city. It should be more quiet, more peaceful, which is what I need right now.
But then a couple of the guard come jogging around the corner, pausing when they see me.
“What are you doing out this way, Zy?” Vamir, another minotaur on the night shift, asks as he turns toward me.
I grunt under my breath. “Finishing my shift.”
That’s not true, but I am not going to admit that I was walking alone ruminating on my life. That’s the last thing I need my colleagues to know about me.
He nods. “We just wrapped up our rotation.” I guess it is time for the third shift to switch out. That’s one I’m glad I avoided, coming in or getting off in the middle of the night. “We were heading over to the Tavern.”
He jerks his head down the hill, and I realize that I forget about the Broken Horn Tavern that lays out this way. It’s smaller, rowdier, but they also tend to handle their own problems. I guess it’s the one place that the guard wouldn’t mind visiting since they don’t have to work when they’re there.
I’m shocked, though when Vamir adds, “Do you want to join?”
I’m an outcast among the guard, too, the small town guy trying to make it in the big city. So, rarely do I get invited out for drinks, and I never try to force my presence on anyone else.
For too long, I waver, uncertain of what to do, but finally, I know that I don’t want to go home just yet, nor do I want to be alone.
“Yeah.” I shrug. “I was just heading down that way.”
Vamir nods before gesturing for me to follow. “Nothing better than a cold ale after a night on the guard.” He claps me on the back, and I chuckle along with everyone else.
“If we do it right, they’ll have to call the unlucky bastards that took our place to deal with us.” The joke slips past my lips naturally, and Vamir turns to look at me. I’m not sure if I went too far when he throws his head back and roars with laughter.
“We need you to come out with us more, Zykhus!”
I hold up a hand. “It’s just Zy.”
“Well, tonight, Zy,” he says as we approach the Tavern. “We show these minotaurs just what the guard is made of.”
I can smell the booze seeping out of the ajar front door before we reach it, and the clinking glasses and loud voices send a thrill of adrenaline through me. Too often, I come to these places because of a fight, and my body is already on edge. I have to force myself to relax as Vamir reaches for the door.
But just beyond him, I can see many men laughing and playing games, having a carefree night that I want for myself, and when Vamir looks back at me with a grin on his face, I start to feel the tension seep out of me. “You ready?”
I smile. “More than ready.”
And I follow him into the Tavern. It’s just a night of wreckless fun, nothing more, and definitely something I need.
What could go wrong?
On Protheka, that’s a dangerous question– because the answer is everything.
4
KYRA
Shadows pool at my feet as I slip down the alley, taking care to keep close to the edges of the walls. Despite knowing without a doubt that Mosar was sleeping when I left and that I should be safe for the evening, I can’t shake the fear that comes with disobeying him. It’s my third night out this week after all.
Even beneath the steady current of fear, however, I can’t deny the thrill that this limited amount of freedom gives me. If Mosar knew I was sneaking out in the evenings, I’m sure I’d have far more than a split lip or a black eye to worry about, but it’s almost worth it to feel the wind on my face and to go where I please.
Distant voices and laughter hum in the air, growing louder as I turn the corner and move closer to the Broken Horn. Lights dance across the street as people move about the tavern, the clinking of glasses a steady undercurrent to the noise of revelry within. Usually, I would dive right into the night alongside them, laughing with Nova and sipping on ale, but tonight isn’t just any night.
I slip around the side of the Broken Horn, some of the noise receding as I find the back entrance and let myself in. The back room is dimly lit, stacked with crates of wine and mead and other various supplies, but off in the corner, I see what I’m looking for.
Thank the gods for Nova!
As promised, my good friend left a few supplies for me to aid in my little mission. A small stack of cosmetics sits next to a smudged, aging mirror propped delicately atop a wooden crate, a small comb laid beside them. Excitement has my blood moving quicker in my veins as I move closer, inspecting the humble setup.