38. Riggs
RIGGS
They finally reached Starfall Canyon.
As they trotted along the sands, Riggs assessed the dusty orange skies, adjusting his face covering. An hour of baking in the heat, and he was already over it. The sun would set in a few hours, but not soon enough.
Esemeray and him hadn’t spoken since last night, and he was already missing the sound of her voice. Four more hours till nightfall.
Riggs brushed his fingers along her feathers, longing to hold her body instead. He gasped. She’s burning up. Her breathing was shallow, her beak cracked open, panting. How did I not notice? Pulling out his canteen, Riggs poured water into his palm, offering it to her.
She drank, puffing out her feathers, and readjusting between his legs, chirping her thanks.
Now that his little bird was content, he scanned the sea of gold stretching out before him, and breathed in deeply, sunbaked clay strong in his nose.
As he surveyed the expanse, his thoughts began to roam to the worst possible scenarios. Anyone traveling too long out here could die of heat exhaustion.
It’s what made Starfall Canyon deadly.
Oh, and sand spiders.
Sand spiders were lethal. Their translucent bodies made them impossible to see. In the summer, they nest underground during mating season. Riggs cringed at the memory resurfacing. Last year, thousands of spiders emerged from the sand. Riggs and Storm were covered head to toe.
The reason they didn’t get bit?
Sand spiderlings teeth were so tiny, it made it impossible to penetrate the skin.
Thank the gods.
But if they had? They would have been dead in twenty-four hours.
After being bitten, the wound bubbles beneath the skin, swelling and oozing with pus, following a brutal fever, then death—unless you have an antidote of course. An antidote Riggs carried with him. Better safe than sorry.
Despite the horrors of the desert, the view was stunning. Riggs could stare at the moving sand dunes and the enormous red canyons in the distance for hours.
In the past, he had.
But not this trip.
Riggs glanced toward Killian. Ire surged. He was still pissed Killian almost tried to kill her. Not that Killian knew it was her, but still, who goes around fighting fucking birds?
Killian and him hadn’t spoken since camp.
He had nothing to say to him. However, riding in silence came with perks.
The wind whipping against the sand sounded like the ocean waves crashing against rocks, so Riggs closed his eyes, soaked up the peace, and pretended he was laying on a beach somewhere.
Somewhere with Esemeray.
But the peace and quiet ended once Esemeray let out a warning chirp, wings fluttering along his thighs. Riggs' eyes flew open and his heart leapt into his throat. A darkened blur in the distance. He squinted. There was a group approaching on camels.
“Are you seeing what I’m seeing?” Riggs asked, breaking the silence and tucking Esemeray close to his waist.
Killian cupped his hand over his forehead, scanning ahead. “We got company.” He shifted on his saddle, gripping the hilt of his sword and mumbled something under his breath. “Let me do the talking this time.”
They were far away enough to not know how many there were, but too close to change direction to avoid them. Strange. Normally, anyone traveling this part of the desert wore the bright colors of the Rhabari. But not them. They were donning something far darker.
Riggs' spine stiffened. “Wanderers,” he breathed.
They were also known as desert sirens. The story told was they were banished from the sea to roam the hottest part of Razareth for punishment. Whatever they had done?—
Just a story though.
Killian chimed, “Riggs, whatever you do, don’t flirt with them.”
Riggs' body flushed, embarrassment plunging through his gut. “Why would I do that?”
“When do you not flirt?
Esemeray moved in his hold, pecking at his arm. He yelped, “Ow! Don’t do that.”
Fuck.
Killian was right, the gypsies were traveling goddesses. Beautiful yet deadly, just like the gold surrounding them.
“I’m not interested,” Riggs admitted, telling the truth for once. He was interested in only one woman, and she happened to be perched between his legs.
“That’s shocking, brother,” Killian said, his tone dripping with sarcasm.
A slow smile spread across Riggs' face. “Nothing shocking about it.” Dropping his gaze to Esemeray. She was already staring at him intently with that darkened stare of hers. He winked, blowing her a kiss.
She chirped, turning her head back toward the approaching party.
Feisty bird.
As they approached the group, Riggs counted seven women, all dressed in black, wearing jeweled veils. If things got bad, he had a dagger for each one. From what he had heard, they were conniving little cunts.
“Hello, boys,” a cunning voice spoke, their party stopping as one. Her golden curls rested on her shoulders and her teal eyes sparkled with the burning sun. The other six women stared in silence.
The blond one must be their leader.
Killian held out his fist.
Obeying Killian’s command, Riggs halted and Esemeray hopped to Storm’s head with a careful eye, staring at the women.
“We don’t want any trouble,” Killian said, his voice firm.
The woman pulled her jeweled veil down, revealing her features. Her jawline was viciously sharp and her lips were more sinful than the Dark Goddess herself.
The woman sneered. “You will give us what we desire or trouble is what you will receive.” Her voice was full of lust and lure.
Riggs relaxed, resting his palm under his chin and drumming his fingers on his cheek. “This is going to be good.”
Killian rubbed his eyes. “Oh, boy.” He cleared his throat, pulling his mask down. “What do you want?”
Their leader chuckled, low and malicious as she motioned to the other six females behind her. “We want something only you are willing to give us,” she purred, pointing a delicate finger toward Killian.
Riggs' brows rose. With a majestic face like that, Riggs knew Killian wouldn’t be able to resist her.
Esemeray whipped her head in Riggs' direction and squinted her eyes in warning as if she knew exactly what thoughts plagued him.
A grin tugged at Riggs' lips as he reached for her. She squawked as he lifted her to his chest and pressed a kiss on her head. “I only want you, little bird,” he murmured. Pain rippled along his finger as Esemeray nipped him. He grimaced, whispering, “You and I are going to have a chat later.” Esemeray wriggled out of his grip, hopping further along Storm’s head.
Riggs would have chuckled, until the woman pointed toward Esemeray and declared, “We want the bird.”
His chest tightened. “No.” His muscles tensed as he fought against lunging for Esemeray. Jaw tight, he said with lethal calm, “You cannot have her.”
Killian turned, throwing Riggs a glance that said “Stop being stubborn,” before huffing and meeting the woman’s gaze. “I’ve heard you gypsies are truth tellers, dream walkers, and seers.”
She nodded, her eyes missing nothing. “All true.” She tilted her chin. “Is there something that you want?”
Killian stared at every single one of them. “There is.” He was silent for a moment, then continued, “I am in search of a missing person; if you could point me in the right direction, the bird is yours.”
Riggs' heart thundered like a hammer with the deal Killian struck. He needed a way to intercept.
Her teal eyes flashed bright blue. “Deal.”