By the Horns Read online

  To hold on or let go? Something kept telling me not to let go—a niggle of a feeling, instinct—urging me to keep my grip tight.

  The buzzing intensified, that strange, humming sting working its way up my arms, to my shoulders, my neck, and then lower. Poison? Had the wall been suddenly struck by lighting and I was unaware? My fingers tingled so badly they were starting to go numb in places. They felt locked in place, curled around the stone horns until they shook.

  I was being zapped, shocked into stillness, like I’d been hit by an invisible bolt of lightning and petrified.

  A long, shaky breath left me, my teeth starting to quietly chatter too hard to make talking an option. That small exhalation sent a glittering mote of dust, loosened by the shaking stone, puffing up into the air as it blew across my hands and the horns, up into the air.

  The dust had a strange shimmer to it, visible even in this light, surrounding me in an odd, sparkling cloud. It was distracting, like a thousand teeny tiny stars had dropped from the sky to say hello. Moon dust, I thought with a ridiculous giggle. A million shades of green, from pine to freshly grown grass, mixed with bits of gold and even specks of silver, twinkling.

  “P-p-p-pretty,” I murmured absently, blinking my eyes uncomprehendingly.

  “Ri...?” Thessen was closer, the heat of his body making me shiver, but he sounded like he was speaking from a distance, his words muffled. I wanted to loosen my grip to reach out and touch them, the faerie dust moon bits.

  By this point, I couldn’t let go even if I’d wanted to. “I’m st-st-stuck,” I chattered through clenched teeth.

  “Hold on.” Thess stepped up to me. “Let me see if I can- Ah!” When Thess reached out for me, his hands grazing mine, he yelped, calling out, and jerked back. “Shocked me!” A visible shock, electric silver arching between us, crackling the air.

  More like shot back, I corrected, with a tiny wince.

  I jerked back along with Thess, hands still glued in place. It was the only thing keeping me upright. My backward motion, as I came tumbling back and my arms protested, pinching in their sockets, sent me jerking right back towards the stone.

  Dipping forward, my chest pressed into those pronged points. If I’d have tumbled forward any harder the force may have doubly impaled me. Tingles pricked my abdomen hard, like they were trying to crawl up into my chest, wrapping themselves around my heart. Was my chest bleeding as well? I felt uninjured, but fat lot of good I could do to take notice now.

  A grunt of pain left me, but it was momentary. Pushing off to get myself upright again, I squeaked as the stone groaned ominously.

  There was a grinding sound, rocks grating, scraping against one another, and a crack. More dust kicked up, a thousand tiny puffs of fairy looking dust fanning out around me.

  Thess stood off to the side of me, making funny, incoherent noises. The male was too stunned for words, let alone taking action.

  As fast as that twinging pain squeezing my heart came, it left, leaving the aching organ racing, head throbbing. I was dizzy with it all. “What… what’s happening?”

  “It’s moving,” Thess whispered, in awe.

  I’d slowly been sliding forward, bit my tenuous bit, until it clicked. I wasn’t moving, the secret stone was, and it was taking me with it as it slid into the recesses of the great wall of stone housing a labyrinth fit for a bull beast—or Minotaur, as it were.

  The stone kept up its momentum, dragging me along for the ride, until I felt my arms pinching, forearms being squeezed into the tiny space it was leaving behind.

  “Let go,” Thess ordered, and went to grab my waist. He stopped at the last possible second, his fingers barely grazing my shirt, hesitating.

  My accomplice was worried, remembering what had happened before—that shocking jolt. Would it happen again?

  “Just around the shirt,” I instructed. “Don’t- Don’t actually touch me.”

  “Okay. Okay,” he said quickly. His head was bobbing, each jerking nod sending his overlong, floppy mahogany locks brushing the top of my head. As he loomed behind me, his head dipping closer, the tips of those thick strands feathered across, tickling at the exposed skin of my nape. It must’ve come loose from its tie, a mass of thick, almost bristly thatch for hair.

  Right as his hands fit around my hips, sliding to my smaller but no less bulky waist, I shivered, gooseflesh peppering my skin at the faintest of touches.

  I was hypersensitive, yet still not all there, not really.

  I’m in a fog. A strange, mind numbing wave of, almost, well, euphoria? A dream-like false sense of happiness. Though why I’d feel that way was beyond me.

  I was almost blissfully blank, a freshly cleaned slate on a sea of fog. I thought of that harsh squeeze in my chest, like fingers gripping the organ as if to test it. If a test, had I passed?

  Briefly, I honestly reconsidered my stance on fae and the Elders fanatical grumblings about the old Order. Would a sacrifice really bring things back into alignment, and was giving up a life worth it, if it meant it was for the greater good?

  No. Not even like this could I agree with that.

  There was even more dust twirling in a fantastical display than before. It danced, leaped, bounded. Dust bounding? Swirling patterns like vines and leaves entwining, forming a fanciful, swirling script I couldn’t make out. But, no, it’s a trick of the light. A reflection? Even in my head my thoughts turned questioning.

  Revered as a goddess, could Titania be as all powerful, even now beyond the veil? The faerie queen obviously wasn’t hanging around here with us mere mortals.

  “Magick?” I murmured, entranced.

  It came to me, like a whisper of a thought, a tiny buzz tingling the back of my head like a gentle caress. ‘Good little human. I suppose you’ll do.’ Then lower, as if I was not necessarily meant to hear. ‘What say you, Beron? Does my new pet suit your needs? This one doesn’t scream and carry on like the first.’ I could hear the disgust clear in that faint voice at that last comment.

  The stones continued to move, drowning out the whispers. I had a funny sense whatever it was that had been deemed, decided, or denied, I couldn’t back out now.

  “Can you let go now?” Thess tugged at my waist, his boots digging in on either side of mine. The thick soles scraped along the dirt path noisily. We jolted as his feet hit stone, jerking him sideways, his hands sliding down past my belt and lower, until he was desperately grasping at two splayed handfuls of my bum.

  “I- I don’t know.” My body felt decidedly loose, relaxed, limber, like I’d had too much ale at Festival—even with Thess getting grabby-handsy back there with my tush.

  Now I was up to my shoulders in a deep, dark hole surrounded by stone.

  “Ri!” Thess huffed in exasperation. “Are you even trying to let go? Come on! Don’t- Riadne!!” He was pleading, voice cracking, panic starting to sink in.

  I had to duck, tucking my head between my arms lest I allow my person to be forcefully decapitated.

  Thess’ hands slipped and he cursed. The unmistakable sound of him slamming to the ground, grunting out a string of obscenities sure to make an old woman blush as his bum smacked dirt, reached my ears.

  “Wherps,” I blurt-mumbled, sighing.

  Floating on my little dust inspired cloud, it was all I could offer the man trying to rescue me—and that’s what my subconscious registered, somewhere there in the recesses of my addled melon—but I just couldn’t… Huh. Nope. Not a fig.

  And now I could swear someone was humming. Thess? But why would he hum?

  “Ow! Damn it, it’s shocking me! I can’t! Ri!! Don’t- Let the bloody hell go!” Thess let out a shriek that morphed into a scream, the sound masculine yet frightfully high-pitched, well aware of the fact he shouldn’t be making a racket, and yet out of his head at my predicament. I was in a bit of trouble.

  Suddenly the sound cut off, as if he remembered himself and what we were about. There, and loud enough it should feel ear piercing, one moment,
then dead silence the next. It should’ve felt loud, that deep, piercing cry, but it sounded so very far away. Was it because of the tunnel?

  Just dragging along, I blinked at my surroundings, wondering why I wasn’t panicking myself. My boxy frame was unceremoniously being shoved into a long, dark hole hidden in the labyrinth’s cave walls and I could barely muster a reaction. It could be booby trapped for all that I knew. And yet… not a single sniffle or cry of distress.

  Calmly, I went on.

  Farther down the strange tunnel, a rabbit hole fit for a mad hatter and Alice and all the rest, more black nothingness looming before me, a warm breeze tickled my skin, whipping passed me from just up ahead.

  I’ll be closed in on all sides. No way out.

  What if it stops? Then what? Will I continue to be pulled in? Until what? I drop off or I’m dragged somewhere? Where?

  Was there an end in sight? Would I get stuck at the end, blocked in, no way out?

  “Riadne!”

  “Thhhhh- Th,” I mumbled, my words slurred. My tongue felt uncomfortably thick.

  Soon I’d be up to my hips.

  Slow and steady, stone ground stone, sparkling dust, released by the action, painting my face, more of me disappearing deep into the bowels of the stone wall.

  “I’m okay,” I managed to mumble weakly, but that didn’t seem to suffice. Thess, who was clinging to my booted feet in a death grip, the fingers of his left hand digging into my right calf, protested loudly.

  There was a deep, gravel crunching groan and my confined space rumbled.

  Well... I squinted, frowning halfheartedly. That’s new.

  I’d always been leery of tight spaces, avoiding them at all costs. If this were any other situation, I’d be screaming by now, crying, carrying on, terrified, begging for help. My heartbeat sped up, but I lay there limp but for my grip on the stone horns, dragged along by some strange force or mechanisms within these walls.

  Still think it’s not the work of the fae? Goin’ to deny the magicks now?

  I’d tell my inner-self to shut it, but I was out of it, clearly out of my head, and that just felt redundant.

  The harsh grinding intensified. I realized the stone was moving faster, the sound directly in line with the breeze starting to blow past. I was moving along rapidly as my knees scraped stone. The thick layer of soft, sand-like dust beneath me eased the way, but I still felt the drag and tug.

  Thess cried out again and then my booted feet were free—free of that wrenching pull.

  Hands vibrating with remnants of that tingling, stinging with bits of numbness, I stared down. Sparking sparkles were flying every which way, wild flashes of green and gold ricocheting off the rocks. They hit my skin, my clothes, batted at my lashes, yet nothing caught, crackling and snapping to settle against my skin like an old friend. Magick sparks.

  Faster and faster, louder the stones ground, the passageway opening up a ways to narrow, moving, until my ears were ringing from the sounds, shoulders burning from the tight fit as I was forced through, cool air brushing my cheeks, almost stingingly so. Was this how ground sausage meat felt being forced into its casing?

  I was skidding along, so rapidly, stomach aching as it clenched, knees skinned through my pants, hips scuffing, shoulders cramping, arms straining, breasts aching even with my wrappings, undershirt, and thick, button down, long-sleeved shirt. I had to fight through the haze blanketing me to call out.

  The stone shot forward and out, and then there was light—soft, glowing, gold light, cutting off the funny sounds I was attempting to make.

  Palms so sweaty it was dripping down my wrists, I gasped when my hands finally started to slip.

  Panicked, I gripped harder. No way was I going to go along all this way just to get stuck. It was improbable I’d make it through the rest of the way without this kind of assistance.

  I’d already come so far...

  Teeth gritting, I let out a little growl. For better or worse, I’d be seeing this through.

  The stone skidded into a tiny, brightly lit compared to my night adjusted eyes, compartment of a room. I came flying in next, still firmly attached to that sparking rock, popping free with a squeak from my gaping mouth and a thud from the rest of me as my body landed.

  The stone was losing momentum, slowly bringing the wild ride to an end. It spun as it jerked to a stop, detaching me in its sudden wild spin. The horns in my hands cracked so swiftly I jumped, the curved attachments popping clean off the stone to leave me staring at the broken pieces.

  Grunting, stumbling to a sitting position, I gaped down at the twin horns in my hands stupidly. They were crumbling right before my eyes, dissolving into a fine, powdery white dust until thick clumps of two twin metals were left behind.

  Shaking my hands out as the dust continued to crumble and fall, I blinked down at the shiny, golden handled blades revealed beneath. Intricate designs curled the hilts, swirls of soft silver and dusky bronze, a rose like gold, a pinch of green, pulling together in an eye catching display. Accentuating the pattern on each was a figure, some sort of symbol. The graceful shape of a nude woman graced the hilt of one, a bull-like creature in a similar state but for the strip of leather across one shoulder, kneeling proudly, on the other. One blade was a semitransparent, white stone tipped with pink, the other a crystal, amber brown mixed with swirls of the terracotta red of the stones and cave walls before me.

  “How very... strange.” Quite odd.

  The white blade was cold as ice at first touch. It felt like metal as my finger ran along the side. “Ah.” Sharp. Cold. Cool.

  “Huh,” I muttered stupidly, lifting them both up towards the light. They glinted, gleaming, a fine sheen of that shimmery gold-green embellishing them, gold glinting off the light, embedded in the metallic feeling stones. They were sturdy but lightweight, as if made for one such as me. Too small for a large man, perfect for my shorter, fat fingers to easily grip.

  As if mesmerized by the sight of them, like they were whispering all their secrets to me as I swung the one in my right, the other in my left, I stared at the odd gifts so long, admiring the fine pieces of art they were, it took several moments before Thess’ voice, calling out for me desperately, snapped me out of it.

  CHAPTER TWO

  “Ri! Ri! Riadne!” Thess hissed my name vehemently, his words slipping into that soft but urgent sibilance as they were drawn out. He sounded like an angry snake about to storm the tunnel. It would have been a futile effort. “Ri-ad-ne!”

  “Huh?” Blinking, I turned, still coming out of my stupor. Shaking myself out, shuffling back, I had to duck to peer down the length of the tunnel I’d just come rushing through.

  “Riadne!”

  Right. The labyrinth. Thess. Vetra. My plan.

  Dipping my head, I blinked owlishly at my comrade. “Thess. My bag. Grab the rope from yours, tie it to my satchel, then toss me the rope.

  Thess’ eyes widened and he spluttered. “I- You- Ri- Me- Rock- Horns- Bag- Rope?!”

  “Yes,” I replied patiently, sparing the room I found myself in another quick glance. My gaze skittered to my new knives before quickly going back to him. “I need my bag. So, I need you to tie the rope you have in yours around it and toss it to me.” There, didn’t get much clearer than that.

  “Are you off your head?!” Thess was a messy haired splotch in the dark, a voice calling to me from the other side, and not much else, but I knew that tone, what I’d find if I could see him.

  Displeased Thess wasn’t particularly pleasant, I knew firsthand.

  “Piss off,” I grumbled, “and toss me the bleedin’ rope!” Now I was the one given to angry snake hissing.

  “Ri! You were just pulled through a rock tunnel against your will! Acting like a mindless zombie! And now you want your pack?”

  “Yes,” I muttered succinctly, but frowned. “We’ve a mission to complete, remember?”

  The shadow on the other end stiffened and made a grumbling noise. The man needed no re
minding.

  “Fine.” Thess huffed. His shadowy, blob-like, blurry outline disappeared.

  Cocking my head, the sounds of rustling and quiet mutterings, not so loving things about my person and how blasted stubborn I could be, and what he thought he could be, should be, doing, rent the air.

  He was full of shit, but it still had me grunting. Horse’s ass.

  He’d no sooner be doing something else than I’d be some fisherman’s or farmer’s cuckolded wife. Hah!

  God, that was weird, though, my reaction, now that I had a moment to think on it with a cleared head, that I would just be so calm about it all. I was just forcibly dragged through a hole by a horned stone block. My chin dipped and my eyes found the twin blades in my hands once more. I was drawn to them, like a damn moth to a flame. Really quite odd.

  My fingers gripped the hilts like I feared someone might come along and try to snatch them from me.

  They felt so right, pressed against my flesh, cool metal to warm skin, a faint tickle as my body warmth warmed the handles. I should think it wrong.

  It shouldn’t- This wasn’t normal. I shouldn’t feel like I’d dismember anyone or anything that tried to come between us. Thoughts like that should- Were- Gah. Shouldn’t even be running through my head. A groan tumbled from my lips and I closed my eyes for a moment. And yet I felt it all the same.

  As if someone was standing over me, the knives were like another presence. I wasn’t so alone in here.

  Swallowing hard, starting to feel anxious and a little worried, yet unable to properly acknowledge the latter, I shook my head as if to rid myself of these strange notions, these queer feelings. Those knives sung to me, entreating me in a silent yet coherent manner, whispering softly in some unspoken way that I should keep them. For now.

  Those sweet whispers were stronger than the songs sung to me by all the moons combined, the pull was so strong.

  It occurred to me, briefly, how badly I wanted to sing back to them, as if to reassure, and how utterly absurd that sounded.