Chapter 2
Chapter
Two
Durom
Someone smelled good.
I lifted my nose and took a deep inhale.
The scent drifted on the breeze, carried through the twisting corners of the labyrinth, thin but persistent, catching in the back of my throat.
I rose from my place by the fire, the soft simmer of the stew in my worn cast-iron pot forgotten.
Heat coiled deep in me, stirring my primal instinct as I reached down to my belt and took out the cloth-wrapped bundle I'd tucked away in my hip pouch.
I went to the single entrance to the campsite, where the death vines hung down, limp and motionless as they waited for prey to wander into their deadly grasp.
I held up the bundle, and the vines recoiled, spreading wide to reveal the doorway that led into this well-protected dead end, one of the many that my kind used for campsites in the maze.
This campsite was deeper and higher up in the labyrinth, closer to where it spilled out onto the surface before the Dungeon had been sealed, contained so it couldn't spread out any further.
Now that this particular seal was broken, I had come back to restore the old sites, to use coarse salt and dry cloth to scrub the rust from the surface of the cast iron cookware, and restock.
There was no telling where the future would take us, but Chaos favored those who planned ahead for any eventuality.
I didn't expect to catch the scent of my mate.
None of the other minotaurs I had met had the mate scent for me.
I had gone to the tribe gatherings, had endured the flirtations of males and females alike, but there had been no spark within me, no fire like I'd been raised to expect.
I'd chased and mounted, even going so far as to attend the Orc gatherings to see if I was one of the ones who would find my mate in another species, but the weak spark of those dalliances paled in comparison to this.
As the vines parted, the thin scent thickened and swirled around me, letting me know in no uncertain terms that this was something special.
This was the mate scent.
The urge to find, to chase, to mount, rushed through me with dizzying need, primal urges that wouldn't be denied.
I let out a deep bellow, letting the sound carry through the rocks so that my mate would hear me, would hear my need, my desire, and know that I was coming.
The chase would begin. I took another deep breath in, letting the scent invigorate me, tasting the details of my mate and finding.
.. something... strange. I focused on it, opening my mouth to let the scent roll over my broad tongue, tasting it with my mouth as I tried to work out the missing piece.
Along with their unique flavor, an individual's scent carried information about them.
It spoke of what they ate, what soap they used to bathe, the plants they had touched or used to cook, if they were lost in a breeding rut, or where they were in their fertility cycle.
My mate's scent was missing something, and I couldn't quite place it.
I tilted my head to acknowledge the stone.
"I greet the rocks who carry the blessing of Chaos," I said.
I could hunt my mate by scent alone, but there was something strange, a mystery, and if I became lost in the rut, I wouldn't be able to solve it.
If my mate were a minotaur, I wouldn't worry about that, but I couldn't tell what species my mate was from the scent.
It wasn't the only thing that was missing, but it was an important piece.
A fellow minotaur I could chase and rut with ease.
If my mate were an Orc, there would be a battle.
If, Chaos forbid, I was scenting a naga female, I would flee rather than risk the permanent injury from mating her.
I couldn't lose my mind without knowing what my mate was.
Instead of risking beginning the chase and triggering the rut by scent hunting, I needed to create the space for conversation.
“Greetings!” the rocks called back, joyful.
They had been hard to speak to in the past, but the Chaos God had returned, and with his return, the rocks had become.
.. happy. The Orcs had seen him. All the creations of Chaos were preparing for the final battle, when he would destroy the separation between the worlds, break all the seals on the Dungeon, and change everything.
I walked over to the labyrinth map, a small raised section of the floor that held a smooth expanse of sand. I quickly sketched out the broad sections of the labyrinth into the sand, making sure my finger touched all the way down to the rock below.
"I am here," I said, pushing my finger down to touch the rock under the sand. "Is my mate in this section, or another?"
“This!” the rocks agreed.
"Where?" I asked.
The sand vibrated, a small shiver as the markings I'd left smoothed out, replaced by a detailed drawing of the twist and turns of the labyrinth that surrounded me. Two small circles appeared, separated by twisting pathways. I examined the map, studying it as I developed my plan.
"Gratitude to the gift of Chaos," I said, swiping my hand to smooth the sand out before rising up off my haunches.
I went back to the plants that had slunk down to block the entryway again, pulling out the pouch.
This time, I reached up with it, well over my head, until the vines had pulled back to expose the hook that hung down in the center of the doorway.
I tied the bundle to the hook, ensuring that the doorway would remain open.
I checked on my stew and adjusted the fire, shifting the wood so that my stew hung over embers instead of open flame.
It would do well simmering for some time.
I picked up a stone slab from where it was backed against the wall and moved it so that it was in between the fire and the entryway.
Then I went to the shelf carved into the stone wall and took down two bowls and spoons and placed them out on the slab.
I went to the trunk and pulled out the clean bedding I had packed away.
I hadn't been planning to use it, as sleeping on the floor was fine for me.
I'd cleaned the bedding when I first arrived to ensure that the next person prowling this section of the Dungeon had access to comfort.
It was important that those with injuries had clean sheets to prevent the added strain of infection, which happened when the Dungeon Divers didn't clean their weapons well, which was more often than not.
I first rolled out an insulated base, so that the raised stone that served as the bedframe wouldn't steal the heat from the sleeper, then rolled the mattress out on top of it. I made the bed, tucking a fresh sprig of lavender under the pillow.
If I gave in to my rut, I wouldn't have the thought for small details, so it was important to attend to them now.
I put towels in the adjoining washroom, a nice perk of living here.
The Dungeon Diver safe rooms didn't have places to shower, but the Dungeon always provided for its inhabitants.
I returned to the passage, leaving the room open and welcoming behind me.
I was the only dungeon monster other than my mate in this area right now, so I didn't have to worry about a goblin stumbling in and gobbling down my stew.
The only thing I had to worry about was speaking to my mate before I was incapable of functional thought.
I held back another bellow as I headed into the maze, taking the route that would circle around behind where my mate was wandering.
Time to go have a calm, polite meeting.
Unless my mate ran.
Then I would have to deal with the aftermath.