Trail of Bones: A Young Adult Fantasy Novel by Chris Salisbury

being shunned or expelled from the herd. For the very weak, horns and reproductive organs were removed, and they were relegated to a life of service more akin to slavery.
    While fear was a very natural emotion for most sentient beings, it was how the Minotaur overcame the fear that made them unique. Instead of pursuing reason or exercising their intellect, they embraced the “fight within”. Through years of discipline, battles, and even self inflicted wounds, they learned to isolate the emotions of rage and anger to channel it into a torrent of strength, power, and energy. This made the Minotaur one of the most feared races on the battlefields of Illyia. As combatants of the arenas, the beast-men were also among the most challenging opponents with the best odds of a victory and monetary success …if they lived long enough to collect it.
    There was, however, a dangerous side effect of this rapid increase of adrenaline, strength, and anger. Loosely translated from the Minotaur’s native tongue, the phenomenon was known as the Blood Dream. As the chemicals washed over the brain, the effect was often catastrophic. The ability to tell friend from foe or to discern danger, say from a burning inferno disappeared. Just as corgans would stampede to avoid a threat, the Minotaur would charge into death without a second thought even when better recourse was available.
    The War of Shattered Horns, as the Minotaur referred to it, was one such occasion. Two tribes had rallied to fight an incursion of Giant Serpents to the Southwest of their grazing fields. Several calves had fallen victim to the stealthy predators, and in response, the tribes had assembled an army to eradicate the threat. The battle with the serpents was brief and decisive, with few Minotaur casualties. The real “war”, however, ignited over a disagreement of how to best divide the spoils of the victory among the beast-men. The ensuing conflict nearly decimated both tribes as the Blood Dream took hold of the herds’ leaders and they slaughtered each other. Dox had been part of that terrible event, and his lost horn was just part of the shame he felt every single day since.
    The Warden had saved his life and though there were many times he wished he had perished with many of his herd, he was indebted. As demeaning as many of his required tasks were, he dutifully performed as instructed so that one day he could earn his freedom and rejoin his race. The War of Shattered Horns was also the last time he had given in to the Blood Dream, something he fought very hard to banish from his heart and mind.
    This panther, however, brought back the maddening emotions, and Dox was fearful of what that might mean… for the panther, for his master… for himself.

 
    CHAPTER 9
     
    Dox squinted as he tried to locate the source of the growls. The tent was awash in a crimson tint as the sun pounded on the maroon canvas. While his eyes were keen to movement, he struggled to make out shapes through the stark contrasts of light and dark. Columns of light streamed in from several vents cut into the top of the canvas. Even though the sun outside was directly overhead, the large tent was filled with shadows and plenty of places to hide.
    Kelor watched from his perch on one of the stacks of boxes. The young cat’s eyes were capable of sharp and detailed vision in all degrees and intensities of light.
    He should have seen me by now, he thought as he let out another growl.
    The beast-man spun his large butcher-style blade still in his hand. As his head turned, it was obvious he still did not know where Kelor was hiding.
    The panther couldn’t help it, he laughed out loud. “What’s the matter, Dox? Lose something?”
    “You should have run when you had the chance, Kelor,” the Minotaur responded as he continued his search. “Master will not be pleased.”
    “I think it’s you who should be running,” answered the panther as he crouched, ready to pounce.
    In spite of the “fun”,