7. The Fall of Prospero
Mina
The first Minotaur charged out of the farmhouse behind me, flechettes spraying in front of it. It couldn’t corner quickly enough to catch me in the stream, not yet, but only because my window exit, the option that had spared me from passing within Locusta’s reach, had spilled me out into the orchard instead of the driveway.
My right foot snagged after a dozen paces and refused to move, sending me sprawling forward.
I fell with a cry of frustration, kicking at the root that had unearthed itself to wrap around my ankle.
Towering above me, the neighboring trees closed in, grabbing for my hands, slashing at my face and neck with their sharp, moldy twigs.
Snatching my hand back from one of the reaching branches, I plunged it into my bag for the flamethrower I’
