Page 5 of Minotaurs and other Magic

CHAPTER 4

The murmuring of voices caught in Nate’s subconscious, trying to lure him to wakefulness. He hovered at the edge of sleep, his head already pounding. Had he gone out and gotten drunk?

His mouth was dry. He should get up and drink something.

The voices became louder.

“I don’t think ‘Bramhede’s Musings on Magic’ would wake anyone up. It’s putting me to sleep,” a deep voice said.

“Keep going. He needs to hear the language to absorb it,” a woman said, as though not expecting any argument.

“You broke him. You’ve drunk a pot of tea, spoken to your sisters, and the moon is past its zenith, and he hasn’t woken.” The man didn’t seem to care about her authority.

“He’s not broken. But it seems he’s never encountered magic before, and his mind needs extra time to process.”

Process what? Why were they talking about magic as if it was real?

The man started talking again, and it was clear he was reading the book on magic.

Where was he? Nate groaned and tried to sit up, only to find his hands bound. Panic flared bright and sharp in his chest as Rohan pushed him back down.

“Take it easy,” the man murmured.

Nate blinked a couple of times before his eyes focused on the…the…fuck. Everything flooded back and hit him hard enough to steal his breath.

The minotaur smiled. “You’re awake. I guess you were sick of Bramhede, too.” He placed the book on the floor.

Nate stared at him. Up close, he had impossibly long dark eyelashes. He shouldn’t be thinking about eyelashes when he was staring at a mythological monster…who had been nothing but kind to him. It wasn’t English the man was speaking, or Welsh, or even French—and he only spoke enough to get around and order food—yet he understood what they were saying. “How is…”

“I think he can understand us.” The minotaur seemed excited. His ears twitched, and he glanced at the woman who was leaning against the large desk.

“Can you, human?”

Nate nodded. “How?” he asked in English.

“Try again in Tarikian,” the woman said as if he should be able to magically speak another language… Oh. Magic.

Finding the right word wasn’t that hard. No more difficult than finding it in Welsh, easier than finding it in French. “How did I learn while I was asleep?”

He spoke slowly, the sounds and inflections feeling strange on his lips and tongue even though he made them as though he’d been speaking the language all of his life.

“I sped up the process with magic,” the woman said, as though that should answer his question instead of raising ten others.

“I don’t understand.”

She walked over. “When learning a language, one listens for the intent and feels the magic. I opened those pathways in your mind, and Rohan read to you so you would hear the words.”

Rohan.That was the minotaur’s name.

Nate wasn’t sure if he should be grateful or concerned that he could understand and speak the language. She spoke of magic as if it were real. Five days ago, he hadn’t thought vampires or any of the other beings were real, either. Why not magic?

“What is your name, human?” Rohan asked.

“Nate Lee.” Not that it mattered. It wasn’t as though they were going to stamp his passport. “Where am I?”

The woman peered at him. “We want to know where you’re from and how you got here.”

Rohan lifted his hand. The thick gold cuff on his wrist, engraved with the now familiar knotwork, glinted in the light. It was the same knotwork that decorated the neckline of his tunic. “We will answer some of your questions to put your mind at ease before you answer ours.” He glanced at the woman. “Perhaps some more tea and food to ground him after the magic?”

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