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curse. I had never quite gotten used to how others couldn’t do the same thing.
    “How could you get information by cow tipping?” Gunnar pressed, knowing there was more to the story. We had fallen into a strong friendship almost from the very beginning, and then upon discovering our unique similarities, the strands of friendship had only grown stronger. We each had one foot in a whole other world.
    The world of magic.
    Gunnar was a werewolf, able to change at a whim now, thanks to my parents help long ago. As if sensing this, Gunnar idly thumbed the tattoo on his wrist — a gift from my parents. Werewolves normally couldn’t control their change from one form to the other, but the tattoo served as a totem, allowing Gunnar to shift at will, no longer a victim to the cycles of the moon. Merely a thought or a finger on the tattoo would begin the transformation. White, snowy fur slowly began to curl up from Gunnar’s forearm before he realized what he was doing. He removed his finger, closed his eyes, and the fur disappeared.
    Peter watched with a distant, familiar envy. He was a regular, just happening to fall into our lives back in school, and he had been there ever since. Despite having no powers, he was a good friend, and an even better man. He was one of the few people who knew our secrets. Even Gunnar’s boss didn’t know the truth, but he did know that Gunnar had an unusually high success rate for solving cases that other agents had deemed ‘unsolvable.’
    The age of digital media had made the lives of our kind harder to conceal. YouTube had caught more magic on film than any number of cameras in the past. Even dismissed as hoaxes, a growing number of people throughout the world had begun to question this resurgence of magical evidence with some serious scrutiny. Luckily, they were mostly regarded as intoxicated conspiracy theorists. I couldn’t imagine what would happen once the lid finally blew on that subject. It would be the Salem Witch Trials all over again. Blood would flow in the streets, and the government would no doubt pass a litany of regulations and laws within weeks. I shivered at the thought, coming back to the question.
    “I needed to speak with the Minotaur.” I answered simply, taking another sip of the licorice fire.
    Peter leaned even further forward. “ The Minotaur? As in the one Theseus killed in Daedalus’ Labyrinth? He’s real ?”
    “Come now, Peter. You know better. Of course he’s real. Almost all the myths are real. But the Minotaur wasn’t killed. True, he was defeated by Theseus, but he swore not to eat any more men — the first monster carnivore turned vegetarian — so was allowed to survive. He’s still… kicking around, so to speak. And he’s good at finding things. My kind of things.” I still felt the impression of his boot on my stomach, despite my hastily thrown shield. I was sure it would bruise nicely.
    Gunnar growled unhappily. “So, after cow tipping him, why on earth did he agree to help you? He could have very easily killed you, you know.”
    I let the silence build until they were leaning forward. “He’s Buddhist now.” No reaction. “Or trying to become one. I’m guessing I survived because he struck a deal with Hermes long ago.” I fingered the coin in my pocket, but remained silent on that gift. “It has to do with the client you saw earlier. He’s looking for something, and my other sources turned up nothing. He was my last resource. He said I could duel him in two days for the item. Then the cops arrived. They must have been keeping tabs on my car.”
    “Well, it’s not exactly discreet.” Peter mocked.
    I grinned back, showing my teeth. “Jealousy does not become you, Peter.”
    He grunted indelicately. “Did you find what you were looking for?” I nodded.
    Gunnar looked relieved. “You risk too much, Nate. You have access to an almost limitless fortune, but you still risk everything for these pennies you get from