A Gathering of Wings (34 page)

“The Beast’s treasure becomes you,” Neal says.

Zephele’s smile dims as she lowers her arms. “Yes, well. He likes to see me wearing his ill-gotten gains.” She pauses and holds up a finger. A snorting sound echoes in the passageway. She whispers, “That’s him now. It’s too late for you to hide. Oh dear. I fear he will be jealous.”

They all turn to the labyrinth exit, just as the Beast strides through it.

“There you are, my dear Sweet Beast!” Zephele calls out in a gentle voice. “I thought I heard your footfall. We have visitors, as you see. I would like you to meet my friends from Mount Kheiron. This is Honus, my teacher, and Orion, my other brother, and Malora, my best friend, and Neal …” She trails off. “You’ve heard me speak of all of them. He’s not much of a conversationalist,” Zephele says in an aside. “He’s more of a listener … and a snorter and a pawer. But, all in all, he hasn’t been bad company.”

Malora’s mouth goes dry at the sight of the Minotaur. He stands twice as tall as she does, on stout human legs that end in black cloven hooves five times the size of Honus’s. His bull’s head, springing from human shoulders that look too narrow to support its weight, is large and black and blockish. He has wide, round nostrils linked by a large golden ring, sickle-shaped horns that look lethally sharp, and big, dark eyes that
combine animal ferocity with human cunning. His body is muscular but tapered, and he has about him an air of fierce dignity, in spite of the fact that he is laden with a rush broom, a rake, and a dustpan full of his own droppings. The Beast is very neat, Malora thinks. Then, with a sinking heart, she realizes that the sound she heard behind them in the labyrinth was the Minotaur sweeping up his droppings and erasing their way out of the maze. The Minotaur flings aside his cleaning tools, snorts, and paws at the earth.

“Now what did I tell you about the snorting and pawing business?” Zephele says to him sternly. “Settle down, Sweetness. Haven’t you been listening to me? These are
friends
.”

“Somehow, I don’t think he cares,” says Orion.

“Orion’s right. He wants you all to himself … and he’s getting ready to fight for you,” Malora says, reaching down to her ankle for her knife.

But Neal stays her hand. “This one is mine, pet!” he says, pulling his sword from its scabbard.

The Minotaur snorts and rounds on Neal. Zephele holds up her hand. “Please don’t!” To the others, she adds, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen him this upset.”

“Of course he’s upset,” says Neal, never taking his eyes off the Minotaur. “He knows we are here to take you away from him. He’s like everyone else you have ever met, dear girl. He is in love with you. He is also smart enough to see that I love you, too. Tell me you love me, Zephele Silvermane, so Sweetness here knows exactly where you stand.”

“Somehow I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Malora says, seeing the reddening eyes and flaring nostrils of the Minotaur.

“It’s a fine idea,” Neal says. “What do you say, Zephie? Of course, if you don’t love me, I’ll still fight for you.…”

“I
do
love you, Neal!” Zephele bursts out. “You know I do. I love you deeply with all my heart. I’ve always loved you. But right now, my darling, I fear for you!”

Neal smiles happily. “Did you hear that, Orrie? She called me
darling
. Your highborn sister has fallen for a Flatlander.”

“I’m pleased to hear it,” Orion says warily, “but I’d prefer that the Flatlander left here in one piece.”

“Oh, I fully intend to!” Neal says with a broad grin. “Now that I know that I am loved by Zephele Silvermane, I will risk all.”

“I wish it didn’t have to come to this,” Zephele says, clutching at Malora’s hand.

Neal says, “Oh, but it must, my love. It was always going to come to this. It’s the only way any of us will get out of here alive.”

Keeping an eye on the Minotaur, Neal backs away toward the other side of the treasure heap. “Follow me, my fine friend,” he says to the Beast, beckoning with one hand. “We wouldn’t want any innocent bystanders to be harmed in the scuffle.”

Zephele, Malora, Honus, and Orion edge away but not so far that they can’t see the combatants. Sky and Baby huddle in the doorway, peering anxiously out of the shadows.

“Oh, do be careful, my darling!” Zephele whispers. And once again, Malora finds herself in the position of watching rather than doing.

The Minotaur paws the earth, lowers his head, and charges at Neal, the points of his horns aimed at the centaur’s
chest. Neal springs forward to meet the Minotaur, blocking him with the length of his sword. The Minotaur skids to a halt and backs up, bellowing in frustration. He wheels around and jogs several paces away from Neal, coming around to face him once again.

“Do you see, Zeph?” Malora points out. “He can’t back up and he can’t make sharp turns. Neal is more nimble.”

With Neal back in his sights, the Minotaur paws the earth, lowers his horns, and charges again. Wielding the sword in both hands, Neal swings the blade sideways, striking sparks on the horns but failing to block the charge. Neal lifts a leg and kicks the Minotaur roundly in the head, sending him reeling backward.

“Nice work,” Orion says.

Shaking his shaggy head, the Minotaur snorts, then launches a fresh attack. Once again Neal holds the Minotaur off with the long edge of his sword and this time backs him into the wall. The Minotaur lifts his head at the last moment and with a toss of his horns flips Neal’s sword into the air.

The sword wheels off and lands in the sand. While the Minotaur’s eyes are on the sword, Neal feints to the right and begins to circle the Minotaur. The Minotaur turns to keep Neal in his sights, but Neal breaks clear and lunges for the sword, sweeping it up in his hands at a swift trot.

The Minotaur charges again. This time, Neal pivots on his hind legs, removing himself from the path of the charging horns. The Beast runs past Neal and slams into the wall. One horn sticks in the door frame. He digs into the dirt with his hooves and, grunting and heaving, struggles to pull himself loose.

“Finish him off
now
, Featherhoof!” Orion shouts.

Had Malora been in Neal’s place, she would have come up from behind and sunk the point of the sword between the Minotaur’s shoulder blades. But Neal has other ideas. Maddeningly, he stands and waits for his opponent to free his horn. Once freed, the Beast shakes his head and turns to face Neal. The Minotaur paws the earth, snorts steam, and glares at Neal through bloodshot eyes. Lowering his horns, he comes at Neal with the speed of a charging rhino. Neal rears up and, with a downward slash of his sword, tears open a long red slit on the side of the Minotaur’s neck.

Zephele gasps, burying her face in Malora’s shoulder. The Minotaur howls in outrage, turns around, and takes a reckless run at Neal, broadside. Neal pivots on his forehand, haunches slewing to one side as the Minotaur’s left horn grazes Neal’s flank.

“It’s not fair,” Zephele whimpers. “He’s got two weapons to Neal’s one.”

Malora gets an idea. Kneeling, she removes her knife from her boot.

“What are you going to do?” Zephele asks. “You’re not ganging up on him, are you?”

Malora shakes her head and moves closer to the fray. Opening her mouth, she shouts, “Hey,
you
! Beast!”

Startled, both Minotaur and centaur turn to look her way. Malora hauls back and throws the knife, sinking the blade into the door frame just over Neal’s head.

Neal grins. “Good arm, pet!” he says, and reaches up to pull the knife out of the wood. Sword in one hand, knife in the other, he circles the Minotaur. Neal is pale and dripping
with sweat, while the Minotaur, apart from the wound on his neck, looks as powerful as ever.

Honus murmurs to Malora, “Is there any way you or Orion could get in there and spell Neal for a bit?”

“Neal would never stand for it,” Orion says grimly. “He wants to do this himself or die trying.”

“Oh, Orrie, please don’t say that!” Zephele says.

The Minotaur charges at Neal. Neal sidesteps, his foreleg buckling as he collapses to his knees. Sword and knife fly from his hands. He lunges forward and wallows in the sand to reach his weapons. The Minotaur lowers his head and charges at Neal from the side.

The others shout out a warning. Just as Neal is about to grasp his sword, the Beast gores him beneath the arm. Neal cries out.

“Oh, dear Hands, no!” Zephele whispers.

Horn snagged in Neal’s armpit, the Minotaur lifts him up over his head and spins around twice, pinning Neal against the wall. Neal, standing on his hind legs, gnashes his teeth. The Minotaur wags his head and digs the horn deeper into Neal’s flesh.

Malora can’t bear to watch.

“Sky!” Malora calls out. “Here!”

Sky stirs and trots over to her. “Give me a leg up, Orrie.”

She needs the help because she doesn’t trust her trembling legs. “Honus, fetch me Orion’s sword!”

Orion, eying the Minotaur fearfully, makes a stirrup of his hands and swings Malora up onto Sky’s back. Now that she feels Sky beneath her, the tremors in her legs lessen. Honus scampers over to retrieve Neal’s sword and hands it up to
Malora. The sword is so heavy she is afraid it will drag her off Sky. She needs both hands to hold it.

The Minotaur flings Neal aside and turns to face Malora.

“I must go to him!” Zephele cries.

“No!” Malora shouts. “Stay clear!”

Obediently, they all edge toward the doorway.

Squeezing Sky with her knees, Malora directs him to move away from where Neal lies sagging against the wall. If Neal is still alive, she doesn’t want to trample him to death. On Sky’s back, she now has the advantage of height. But she has more than that. She can see it in the Minotaur’s eyes as he regards Sky with bloodshot eyes.

“Do you see that, boy?” she whispers to Sky. “The Beast is afraid of you.”

She leans back and cues Sky with a series of little kicks to back up to the wall, as far away from the Minotaur as they can get and still keep him in view. “Just think,” she leans forward and whispers into his ear, “of all the poor innocent horses this monster has eaten.”

Malora straightens, feeling Sky brace himself beneath her. She holds the sword in both hands, cocked over one shoulder.
Like the blacksmith’s hammer
. The weight on her wrists and biceps is almost unbearable. She digs her heels into Sky’s belly, urging him forward, hanging on with the muscles of her thighs as he lunges forward. She sights just over the Beast’s left shoulder. The Beast lowers his head to charge. But then he simply stands and stares at Sky, dumbstruck. Malora pulls up short before the Beast. Sky stretches his neck clear of the sword’s path. Malora swings the blade down and slices into the top of the Minotaur’s skull, between the horns.

The Beast opens his mouth and lets out a dull roar. Shuddering, he sags to his seat, legs splayed out before him. The sword is stuck fast. Malora leaves it there and slides off Sky’s back. Sky trots away, head high. Planting a foot to either side of the sword, Malora pulls back and yanks the blade free of the monster’s head. Blood blooms from his skull. Then she summons her remaining strength, swings the blade sideways, and hacks off the Minotaur’s head in one stroke. The head rolls onto the sand, splattering blood. Malora bends over and wretches up a long string of bile.

“He was already dead. Why ever did you cut off his head?” Orion says.

Malora raises her head and wipes her mouth on the sleeve of her tunic. “Insurance,” she says, leaning on the sword as if it were a crutch.

Zephele runs to Neal, flinging off her jewels as she comes. Kneeling next to him she takes him gently in her arms. In no time, her white kid shawl is stained with Neal’s blood.

“He’s alive! My darling is alive!” Zephele announces. “Honus! Orion! Help me stanch the bleeding.”

“The Minotaur has been slain in his labyrinth,” Honus says quietly, bending over Neal’s body. “Behold, our modern-day Theseus.”

Malora stares down at the Beast’s head. His eyes are open, still transfixed by Sky.

“That was
fine
work, Malora,” Orion says as he hurriedly tears up his wrap to make a bandage for Neal.

“He didn’t even put up a fight,” Malora says in a daze. “He was afraid of Sky.” Suddenly, she feels light-headed and
weak. She doesn’t think she could lift the sword again if her life depended on it.

Neal says, lifting his head from Zephele’s arms, “You should have seen the look in Sky’s eyes when he charged. It was
murderous
.”

“Darling! How lovely to hear your voice again!” Zephele coos, kissing the top of his head.

Neal winces as Honus cleans his wound. Then Honus wraps the bandage around Neal’s shoulder and under his armpit. Afterward, Neal lies on his good side, looking pale and pinched.

“Open your mouth and stick out your tongue,” Honus says.

Neal obeys and Honus places a small tar-colored pellet on his tongue. “Chew this to dull the edge of your pain,” he says.

Slack-jawed, Neal does his best to chew, his eyes riveted to Zephele’s face.

Zephele smooths his golden curls and covers his face with gentle kisses. “Are you all right, my darling?”

“I’ll be fine,” Neal says, and adds, “It’s nothing. Only a scratch.” Then he blacks out.

Zephele raises her eyes to Honus.

“The wound is deep,” Honus says, “but not fatal.”

Zephele nods quickly, as if she already knew this but needed it confirmed. She looks over at what is left of the Beast. “He tried so hard to be the perfect host. In his way, he was just like my brother. He hoped that I would remain here as his guest forever. But it never would have worked out.” She sighs and turns away.

Orion says, “I don’t think I can carry him very far without wrenching something.”

“I won’t be much help,” Malora says. It has taken her last burst of strength to lop off the Beast’s head. She suspects the half-dead weight of a full-grown centaur is a little more than she can handle, even with help from Orion.

“I have an idea,” Orion says, holding up a finger. “We’ll rig a sling.”