by Elise Artez
Copyright 2012 Elise Artez
The Minotaur’s Mate
Kiryn’s fingers barely grazed the smooth surface of a golden bull statuette when she heard someone shouting behind her.
The door was flung open, filling the room with light, revealing what had previously been obscured by the shadows. An altar. A basin filled with blood. And a large tapestry of a half–man, half–bull creature, standing proud.
But she scarcely had the opportunity to do anything more than glance at the strange atmosphere, far more concerned with searching for a quick exit. The window she’d used to get in would be her best choice, but it would be a large drop if they cut her rope.
“Stop her!” A woman barked, and Kiryn felt the disturbance of air as an arrow whizzed past her ear.
Her mother would just love this. In over her head, as usual. Didn’t think it through enough. Didn’t come prepared. But she hadn’t been left much of a choice and she wasn’t left one now. Grabbing the idol, she tucked it under one arm and darted for the window, making a leap for it once she was close enough.
She landed with a roll and a good number more scratches and bruises than she’d had before, but at least she’d been able to duck from the arrows, hearing three of them thunk into the wooden frame.
Moving along the roof, she searched for her grappling hook and found it embedded into the edge of an awning, undisturbed. The cloaked guards advanced, making their way out the window one by one, and Kiryn took a deep breath, grabbing the rope and using it to repel down the side.