“But you’re a Buddhist now. Couldn’t you… I don’t know, sell it to me?”
The Minotaur shook his head with a hungry grin. “Promises made, promises kept.” I glanced at the ancient coin in my palm. “Oh, and Temple…” I looked up to see his boot flying at my midsection, so hastily threw up a last-second shield of air. It deflected only the fatal portion of the blow. “Karma says hello. Don’t ever cow-tip me again.” The force felt like, well, what I imagined a heel kick from the Minotaur would feel like. Then I was flying toward the pulsing lights. The Minotaur’s guttural laughter stayed with me as I tumbled through the starry night, and then I landed chest-first in a moist pile of cow shit, sliding a few feet so that it smeared a perfect streak from chest to groin. I heard a surprised grunt, and then a knee ground me into the cold grass, mashing the molecular particles of shit firmly between each individual fiber of my six-hundred-dollar coat.
Cold steel clamped around my wrists. “I got him, Captain! He came outta’ nowhere!” I couldn’t help it. I began to laugh — hard — despite the lingering pain of Asterion’s well-placed farewell boot.
“Fucking Karma!” I bellowed between giggles.
“I think he’s hopped up on something, sir. Probably mushrooms, judging from all this cow shit.”
“Whatever,” A new voice — presumably the Captain’s — said. “Let’s just take him downtown. We have a few questions for him about his parents’ murder.”
I choked on my laughter…
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