I caught a glimpse of horns before I ducked to the side of the doorway, keeping out of sight. With quick, silent steps, I rushed over to the leather flap that blocked the other exit, only to discover it wasn't an exit, it was an ensuite. The sight shocked me for a moment. Safe rooms didn't have places to shower and bathe. Was this a monster camp? All the monster camps I'd seen in the Dungeon had groups of monsters standing around a rough wooden fire built on top of the flat stone floor. They didn't have hearths or bedding or stew or en-suites.
Shock or no shock, I had kept it together too well for too long to let the sight of a bathtub do me in.
I dropped the leather flap and went over to the chest that was left open.
Rule ten said never to trust chests, but this one was already open, so I knew it wasn't a monster in disguise waiting to eat me. It was empty, so I stepped into it and grabbed the lid, lowering it down as I wedged a small rock into the seam so that it wouldn't shut completely and lock me in. It was a tight fit, but I shifted until I could see out through the crack, and then I held completely still as the monster stepped into the room.
It was a minotaur.
Tall, on the upper edge of six feet at least, and built like a jiu-jitsu champion, with full body muscular development made for explosive power. He had two horns that curved up from his head, a broad, wide nose and mouth, and two long ears. He wore a thick leather kilt and had digitigrade legs that ended in hooves. His face was close enough to humanoid that I could consider him handsome, if that mattered in comparison to the ripped lines of his shirtless body. His bright green eyes scanned the room, stopping as they fell on the trunk where I hid. Hisnostrils flared as he lifted his chin up to sniff the air, a silver ring catching the light in the room.
Vut always said I smelled like nothing. It was one of the few things he liked about me, that I didn't foul his air with additional scents. If a lycan couldn't smell me, this monster wouldn't be able to smell me either. I was safe in here unless I made a noise. There was no other way he could tell I was in here.
"Too small for an Orc," he said as he stared at the trunk, and it took everything in my power not to gasp.
I didn't know minotaurs could talk!
I'd never heard any of the dungeon monsters speak. When they were talked about at school, it was always as if they were mindless beasts, operating on instinct alone.
"Goblin, come out now," he said, his voice rich and melodic as he reached up to take a small pouch hanging from the top of the entryway. I had to stifle another gasp as the vines dropped down, blocking my only exit from the room. He tucked the bag into a small satchel attached to his belt, then walked over to sit down on a round stone stool next to the hearth. He picked up a long spoon from where it rested on the far side of the pot, and then gave the stew a stir.
I waited, but no Goblin emerged.
The minotaur reached over and picked up one of the bowls from where it sat, filling it up with stew before setting it down on the hearth. He grabbed the second bowl and repeated the gesture.
"Come eat," he said. "We will speak."
The prickle of worry raced down my spine as still no Goblin emerged. That worry shifted into full-blown panic as his eyes landed back on the trunk where I hid.
He knew I was in here.
"Strange behavior for a Goblin," he said as he stared at the trunk.
He thought I was a fellow monster. That was why he was talking to me. Perhaps the Dungeon Monsters only spoke to one another. Even so, the fact that they could talk at all was still shattering my worldview, destroying the concept that my survival here at this school had been built upon.
Still, if he could talk, then he could be reasoned with.
As long as he didn't kill me the second he realized I was a student, and a red jacket one at that.
I took a deep breath in.
There was no way out. He knew I was in here. He wasn't going to fall asleep and let me take the pouch from his belt to escape from this room. I didn't have any weapons, and even if I did, I wasn't a match for another mundane student, let alone a minotaur.
My best bet was talking.
"I'm not a goblin," I said as I pushed open the lid. "My name is Kyle."
Chapter
Four
Durom
Kyle was a human, a mundane one at that, judging by the red jacket he wore.
He was small for a human, and the jacket was baggy on his frame, hiding his body. His hair was short and shaggy, light brown, a look I'd seen on several mundanes who had come to the school with clean cuts and hadn't found the time or talent for another proper grooming. He had no hair on his lip or chin, his eyes were green, and his skin was pale, like he had spent more time in the depths of the Dungeon than out in the surface farms.
I wasn't expecting a male. I had never mounted one before and always assumed my mate would be female, as that was who I was most attracted to. I wasn't opposed, just surprised.
