Page 3 of When the Witch Met the Minotaur

Argos

Ipack up and return to my temporary lodgings with the town’s pub owner, Cyrus. When I swing the door open, the dragon shifter raises a hand. He has dark green wings and hair, and his skin is a fascinating shade of bronze. Gold scales shimmer on his face and arms, and he has horns, though they are small and curved backward unlike mine. The fellow always has a smile for everyone.

“Hello, Argos!” He frowns at the orc lad wiping down tables. “Trustan, help him out with that cart, will you?” Cyrus winks at me. “Have to take care of my only tenant.”

I hand over some of my goods to Trustan. “Thanks.”

We manage to get the folded-down cart into the back storage room behind the linen curtain and I climb the stairs to my room above the pub’s main gathering area. That witch… Gods, she is gorgeous. Too bad she loathes me.

Once I have my stuff stashed away, I join Cyrus at the bar.

“What are you serving tonight? I’m starved. And I have the coin to spend finally.”

Cyrus laughs, a trail of black smoke coming from his mouth. He scoots a pint my way. “Mincemeat pie and a local cheddar. Sound good?”

“Perfect.”

Cyrus greets four pixies, kissing one of them soundly while throwing her back into a dramatic dip. She laughs, then sits with the others at a table in the center of the pub. A fairy joins them and soon they’re drinking and trading loud stories.

A human male takes up a lute at the back of the room and begins plucking a jaunty tune.

The food is delicious. When I first lost everything and headed into the world to figure things out, I expected most lower-class food to be tasteless. But I’ve found it’s like the food I was served at my parents’ table growing up—sometimes good, sometimes awful. I prefer eating with the common folk. No fancy forks or spoons to juggle. You don’t have to sit a certain way or follow any set rules of conversation over a meal. It’s so relaxed. But I must stay focused on my goal even as I enjoy my time here in Leafshire Cove.

I must earn enough to buy back our family’s estate from the debt collectors.

Cyrus leans on the bar in front of me. “Don’t look so down. I’ll have to fire my cook and when I say fire, folks tend to get nervous.”

I chuckle and wave him off. Cyrus is a perfect pub owner—jovial and good with people. “The food is great, really, Cyrus. Thanks again for letting me stay here on credit.”

He nods, and the scales that frame his face catch the sconces’ light. “How was day one selling your wares? Did our town treat you well?”

“I sold nearly half of my stores.”

“Impressive. But you appear troubled.”

I don’t want to get into talking about my father’s death and all of that, so I focus on my other issue. “There is this witch…”

A laugh bursts from Cyrus and he slaps the bar top. “You met Tully! I’m sure she has a lot to say about your unique brand of magic.”

“She certainly does.”

I can’t help but smile though because damn if that witch isn’t the most intriguing female I’ve met in my entire life. That scowl, those fierce green eyes, that temper… I can’t wait to give her more trouble tomorrow. I take out my notebook where all my experiments are recorded.

Cyrus gestures to my scribblings. “With the way you like to research magic, you might very well be the one to finally solve the puzzle of our saucy witch.”

“I heard she was with the tavern owner.”

“Grumlin? No, they’re casual. There’s nothing to bar from trying to court Tully if you’re so inclined.”

“I might die trying.”

“That’s a bet I would take, I hate to tell you.”

We’re both laughing now and he hands me a second pint. “This one is on the house.”

Cyrus gets out some dice and we do a little low-level gambling. He isn’t a fool; he sees I don’t have money to waste, so we keep it to single coppers and just play for fun.

“Do you think Tully will hinder your ability to succeed here?” he asks, rolling the red glass dice again.