“Back,” Everett growls, extending his arm out to stop me mid-step.
Zaid automatically positions me behind him, his body rippling with tension.
Krystian reaches for his bow and notches an arrow. He aims it at the creature’s chest, pulls the string back, and?—
The arrow bounces off the minotaur's flank and lands on the ground.
“Well, that didn’t go as planned,” Krystian muses.
The minotaur throws his head back and roars. Then, it charges.
When it moves, it’s faster than it should be—certainly faster than it looks, considering it’s made of heavy metal.
The creature’s limbs whir with deadly precision, its mechanical nostrils flaring.
Rafe takes a step forward, his palm already bleeding. He throws his hands out, and bloody whips encircle the creature, stopping it in mid-lunge.
Zaid vanishes in a ripple of darkness and reappears behind the beast, a blade in his hand.
The minotaur struggles against the bindings containing him, twisting his head to and fro, and rusty gears spin in his neck.
“Zaid!” I scream, causing the creature’s head to whip in my direction. “The neck! Go for the neck!”
Zaid’s eyes sharpen on the creature, and I can tell he sees the gears too.
With a roar, the wraith lunges at the creature and brings his arm down in a swooping arc. The dagger embeds itself deep in the minotaur's neck, and sparks fly. The creature swipes its claws in both directions, desperate, but Zaid’s dagger has done its job. The gears slow and then stop entirely.
The creature—the minotaur rebirthed—falls forward with an audible thunk, loose pieces of machinery spilling from him. Instead of blood, oil pools around it, dark and cloying.
The damn thing smells. Not like rot, not like a sweaty beast. But like scorched iron, ozone, and engine grease, as if it were born from fire and wrath.
“It seems as if we just passed Athena’s first trial,” Zaid says, breathing heavily.
He wipes away sweat with the back of his hand.
“Usually the first one is the easiest,” Krystian points out.
“Thatwas the easiest trial?” I blink at him in disbelief.
“We took the creature out pretty quickly, did we not?” Krystian smirks cockily.
“You know what? You’re right.” I puff out my chest, emulating a confidence and optimism I don’t truly feel. “We totally got this.”
Famous last words.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
THEA
We walk for a few minutes longer in relative silence.
I find myself lingering at the back of the group, beside Rafe, whose flinty gaze never settles on one thing for more than a second. He’s constantly on guard, tension thrumming through his corded muscles.
“Sooo…” I begin, peeking at him coyly. “I don’t know a lot about you.”
He whips his head towards me, his eyes widening.
“Okay,” he rasps out, focusing straight ahead once more.
