Minotaur by Phillip W. Simpson Page B

instruments. Although why exactly that last one was important was beyond me. It was the only part of the day I truly detested.
    My large fingers, fingers that felt comfortable and deft on the grip of my club, were incredibly clumsy—more so than usual. The others would laugh at my inept attempts to coerce something resembling music from my instrument. The discordant sounds were reminiscent more of animals fighting or mating than actual music. I even caught Phaedra laughing on occasions, unable to stop herself. I didn’t blame her. In her position, I probably would’ve reacted in the same way.
    Ariadne and Phaedra were of course both quite excellent, the skill being more important for them apparently. They were forced to practice during their afternoon sessions in addition to learning how to be a dutiful housewife. Phaedra informed me that she would have to play for her husband’s guests once she was married.
    Catreus and Deucalion played with passable skill, while Androgeus played both instruments with his usual competence. Glaucus was a surprise. His chubby fingers were quite agile as they danced over the strings of the lyre. But, it was Icarus who was the true revelation. He played the flute like someone born to it. He began to surpass even the skills of his tutor and became largely self-taught. When he played for us, I watched him carefully. He would close his eyes, completely lost in the music. Only when he finished would he become aware of his audience, shaking his head like a dog clearing a vivid dream from his head. I discovered a newfound respect for him.
    It was later that same evening, long after our evening meal, when I was summoned before my mother. Even though I sought out opportunities to see her, our daily routines were so busy that I didn’t get to see her with the same frequency as I had when I was young. I missed her.
    Every time I saw her, however, she seemed to age. It was almost like having her children around her kept her young. Now that they didn’t need her as much, she seemed to shrink and collapse within herself. Not that she still wasn’t beautiful and vibrant, but she had become less so, which saddened me.
    “You wanted to see me, Mother,” I said, lightly brushing my lips against her check, careful not to let one of my horns graze her face.
    “Asterion, my beloved son,” she said, holding me close. “I don’t get to see you nearly enough these days.”
    “I know, Mother,” I replied. “Our tutors keep us busy.”
    “Yes, I’ve heard. Take a seat.” I pulled up a stool and perched next to her where she sat on a couch. From our vantage point, we could see the sea shining brightly under the glowing orb of a full moon. I found her looking at me sharply, but I could see the humor behind her eyes.
    “I heard about you and Androgeus today. I also heard about you and Glaucus. It seems you’re becoming a man.”
    I nodded, unwilling to meet her gaze. I didn’t exactly feel good knowing I’d harmed or potentially harmed her other sons. My brothers.
    “And a man has a right to know who his father is. His true father.”
    My heart skipped a beat. My breathing suddenly quickened, like I’d just been running. This was the knowledge promised me, the knowledge that Phaedra had hinted at. Knowledge that I wasn’t sure I wanted. I desperately wanted to fit in with my other brothers and sisters. If a new revelation served to make me different, then I’d probably rather not know.
    I had long ignored palace rumor and gossip as the work of idle mouths. Yes, my horns were an oddity but no more so than someone born with an extra finger or toe. They were just more obvious. There was no way I could be the son of a bull. That was absolutely ridiculous.
    “My father is the King,” I said. “Minos.”
    Pasiphae pursed her lips. “Is that what you want to believe? That your father is that man? The same man who beat you because of an accident? The same man who shuns his wife in favor of harlots he