Chapter 26 Neirin
NEIRIN
“She won’t move,” Evera hissed, kicking the mare’s sides.
With one delivery left and the calm of the afternoon settling over Elrune, I’d chosen to walk beside the mare and encouraged Evera to try handling her on her own.
It was a skill she should know, should she ever need to ride alone.
But despite her stubborn persistence and her eagerness to try, the signals she gave only confused the animal.
Calix, who to my surprise had thus far been more of a help than a nuisance, laughed under his breath, and Evera shot him a pointed look.
The boy shrugged and resumed his absent, dazed look.
It was a hoax, of course, just a part of his training; no one suspected a dull-eyed child, so they spoke freely around them.
Though disconcerting, it was a useful skill, one that had proven fruitful today; he’d found us some half hour ago and relayed what knowledge he’d gained.
Guards were coming from the castle, expected by sun fall, to speak with the local commander and lord. His pursuit of me within the capitals borders exhausted, the King turned to the outlying towns.
I suspected Harlan was not aware of Astraea’s involvement in sending out her messengers some few days prior.
She would be losing her composure soon, though.
Without my blood, her messengers would destroy each other.
I chewed the inside of my cheek and glanced back at Calix, the weight of the impending events settling on my shoulders.
But there was nothing I could do for his friends, not without enslaving myself to the Queen—more so than before—and abandoning my brother to the hands of the assassin that walked the castle.
Beside me, Evera huffed, and Sorrel stepped in place, ears pinned.
I moved to take the reins. “Stop,” I instructed Evera, resting my free hand on her calf.
Exasperation and stubborn indignation lined her face. “That’s how you make a horse move. You kick their sides.” The sharpness in her tone made my lips turn up. Looking at me through the corners of her eyes, she narrowed her brows. “What?”
“You amuse me,” I admitted, not withholding the warmth from my tone.
A curl fell in front of Evera’s eyes, and it caught in the yellow light of the afternoon sun.
She blew at it and grunted when it tickled across her nose.
With a faint laugh, I moved my hand from her calf and tucked the strand of hair behind her ear.
She turned into my touch, though her pout remained, and I stroked her cheek with my thumb.
“I’m trying,” she said, a quiet uncertainty to her voice.
“I know.” I offered an encouraging smile and handed the reins back. I trailed my touch to the small of her back and pushed slightly, encouraging her to straighten. “Leaning back will make her stop. Instead—”
“I wasn’t leaning back.”
“Yes,” I said, casually trailing my hand lower to still just above the curve of her bottom. “You were.”
She gave me a pointed look but argued no further, the press of her lips a clear sign she was attempting to restrain the sharpness of her tongue.
“Sit upright,” I instructed. “Back straight. Then squeeze a bit with your heels.”
Huffing, Evera set her eyes forward again and raised her chin. She wiggled and straightened her back more. The change in posture pushed her breasts out, and my eyes drew to the swell of them.
“Is this better?” Despite her apparent efforts, the touch of a sarcastic quip still laced her question.
I laughed. “Yes, now squeeze with your heels, just a bit, then let the pressure off. If you want her to stop, pull on the reins and lean back.”
Evera followed my instruction, and after a fair bit of frustration on her part, the mare finally began to walk forward at a steady pace.
“I’m doing it!” Her exultation came almost as a squeal.
Gone was the reserve to her voice and the snark she shielded herself with.
The words encompassed the innocence and joy of a perfect moment.
When she looked back over her shoulder, waves of copper hair flowed about her face, and the warmth of her smile fell upon me.
My heart ached with the strangest form of longing.
Not lust, not desire, something different. Something that was entirely consuming.
“That you are.” The words came out softer than I intended, struck as I was by the moment.
“She is your mate, isn’t she?”
I lowered my gaze to Calix. He watched after Evera and spoke beneath his breath so she couldn’t overhear his question.
The way his empty gaze followed her and the coolness to his question set an unease in my belly.
Although Calix was just a boy, he held incredible power and was not to be underestimated.
I put a hand on one of his shoulders, holding him firmly. “She is.”
A moment of quiet, then the subtle pulse of electric energy tingled in my hand and shot up my arm. It was not his intention to cause pain, for if that was his goal , he could have done so easily. It was more a reminder of his abilities, a warning response to the firmness of my grip.
As quick as the sensation came, it ebbed. “You do not need to try and intimidate me.” Calix kept his eyes forward. “I will protect her.”
I firmed my jaw. The boy’s short curls remained unmoving in the breeze, and he wet his lips briefly before looking up at me. The depth in his cobalt eyes stood so starkly out of place amid his youthful features.
“Why?” I asked, choosing to speak to him with the regard I would show a grown man, despite his age. As I’d told Evera, boys like him and I did not have the opportunity to be children.
Calix turned his gaze back to Evera atop the mare, a steady way ahead. “Because she is good.”
The response took me by surprise. Calix’s loyalty to me, I knew, would be one of self-preservation.
He needed my blood to maintain his composure and keep control over his magic for any prolonged period.
This was fortunate, as such commitment could not easily be out-bought, for what would an orphan boy tossed out by his family value more than his own life?
“How do I make her go faster?” Evera’s call drew my gaze and my thoughts back to her.
“You do not,” I said, jogging to join her.
Calix muffled a chuckle, and again I found myself puzzled by the boy. There was a very human side to him I’d not expected. The concept compelled me to reconsider my beliefs, and made me question my understanding of his kind.
“Do you not think I am capable?” Evera asked as I reached her side. Gone was the beaming smile, replaced with a faint pout of her lips.
I would not lie to her. Even if she resented me for it, I would not risk her safety. “It took me many lessons before I learned to trot.”
Evera’s face sank. “Oh.”
I sighed. It was so easy to discourage her. “Where is our last delivery?” I asked, trying to distract her from her disappointment.
She gestured with a tilt of her chin. The road we followed paralleled a short cliff that came no higher than Sorrel’s withers. Still, the bank was steep, its edge crumbling away in a mess of stone and clumped earth.
Ahead, a ramp sloped up steeply, leading to the elevated farmland. I reached for the reins instinctually to guide the mare.
“Neirin,” Evera said, her tone a sharp warning.
“Yes?”
“You don’t need to hold on to me.” Her brows creased, and at that moment, I empathized with her brother. The woman was headstrong. And while her fire was intoxicating, it was equally frustrating. And worrisome.
“Neirin is overprotective of you because of what you are to him,” Calix said, skirting past us and taking the ramp at a quickened pace.
His boots, substantially nicer than my own, made a tapping sound as he hopped atop a stone beside the path and looked down at us, that childlike aspect of him showing itself again.
“Would you let Calix take the ramp alone?” Evera posed her question to me.
“I would,” I admitted. I had no idea if the boy knew how to ride, but the concept of him falling from the mare’s back and tumbling down the short hillside gave me little concern. If he wanted to be spoken to as a man, he would be treated as one—equally. “I do not care if he falls.”
“Neirin.” My name on Evera’s tongue was lecturing, and a bit astonished. “He is a child.”
Calix snorted in amusement but sobered when I shot him a glare. He took a seat atop the large rock.
“He is hardly a normal child,” I said, but that was a conversation for another time.
I suspected Evera knew there was more to Calix than I’d let on, but she’d yet to press.
Still, she had handled well enough learning what I was.
She could take the knowledge of Calix’s affliction, I was sure. I would tell her later.
Sighing, Evera cast her gaze to the side, irritation and disappointment evident in her posture.
I set my jaw. “Fine.” I dropped my hand from her back and stepped to the side as we reached the ramp, even as I knew it was a poor decision to relent. “Lean forward a bit. Otherwise, you’ll fall. She’s going to change her gait.”
But it was too late. Evera was already coaxing the mare up the wood panels.
Sorrel’s flanks quivered, and she took the slope quickly, as I knew she would.
Horses were daft, predictable things. As all animals were.
Evera leaned forward, though too late for effectiveness.
She jolted forward, off balance, and grasped for a hold around the mare’s neck.
I rushed to her side and took Sorrel’s harness at the top of the slope. I absentmindedly stroked the mare’s flank to soothe her. Calix, to my relief, remained silent. Damn the two for their consorting.
I narrowed my eyes at my foolish mate, her head sideways and her cheek pressed to Sorrel’s mane.
“You are stubborn,” I told her.
“I know.” Her remark was small and apologetic.
I huffed a breath. “Being capable doesn’t mean trying things before you’re ready. It means you have the willingness and intellect to learn something properly, even if it takes time.”