59. Riggs
RIGGS
Breathing in the worn, sweet scent of the thousand-year-old library, Riggs admired the towering building and the golden spiral stairs leading to the endless rows of pure knowledge.
Glancing over to Esemeray, he grinned from ear to ear.
She couldn’t seem to stop staring at the architecture and statues, as if they were pulling her into a trance.
Esemeray halted, her breath catching as she approached one. Riggs drew behind her, standing tall, and holding his chin high.
What caught my little bird’s attention?
She had her eye on one in particular.
The Horko beetle.
Riggs smiled wide. The insect had been extinct for almost a million years, but it had been crafted so uniquely by the gods its form was still celebrated.
The beetle played an important role to the planet and, without it, the world they know would cease to exist. Despite the Rhabaris murdering innocents, Riggs did appreciate that they praised the insect—honored it.
“You got your eye on a good one,” Riggs said, brushing his hand down Esemeray’s spine, satin brushing his fingertips.
The robe the servants adorned her in today did well.
It was nothing like the one last night. He thought lavender was his favorite color until she stepped out into the dining hall earlier this morning.
Now, his favorite color seemed to be whatever she was wearing, and today, it happened to be magenta.
The deep pink added a stunning contrast to her dark, wavy hair, and her creamy, moon-white skin.
Despite all the people around them, all he could seem to do was touch her, feel her.
After last night he’d think he’d be satisfied.
He wasn’t. It only made his infatuation for her grow deeper.
He was helplessly, and foolishly in love with her.
She leaned into his touch, tracing his bicep with her fingers. “I have never seen anything like it before,” Esemeray whispered, her eyes shining with amusement, and something else, something like longing.
I know what she wants.
He, too, wanted to same thing?—
Regardless of the potential lurking eyes, he gripped her chin and smirked.
Hell with the consequences.
Riggs leaned down, whispering against her mouth, “I love you, Em.” He let the tension between them linger before he pressed a kiss to her lips.
He’d be damned to make Esemeray feel like she did not matter.
“I love you,” Esemeray murmured, tucking her hair behind her ear, cautiously looking around. He too checked his surroundings—the coast was clear.
He blew out a slow, slow breath, and pointed at the sculpture.
“Isn’t the Horko beetle just remarkable?
” Riggs stated with a sigh. “It is truly one of its kind. The specimen was discovered in the early ages of life. If that beetle did not exist,” he said with passion, studying the bronze, two-winged clay statue, “we would not be having this conversation right now.”
Esemeray’s face beamed. “How do you know?”
Riggs tsked. If she had read chapter thirty of Mystic and Magical Practices she would have learned about the famous Horko beetle. It appeared Esemeray would rather fill her head with unrealistic romance stories instead.
A smirk ghosted his lips. “I read.”
“What made the beetle’s role so important?”
“According to Mystic and Magical Practices, without the Horko beetle’s powerful chewing mechanisms and saliva, the fallen animals would have spread diseases that would have wiped out all living species,” Riggs stated with a smart-ass smile.
“I must have missed that part.” Esemeray fiddled with her robe, her cheeks turning scarlet. “So, because they ate the dead, it made it possible for life to flourish?”
Riggs' lips curved in approval. “Exactly.” He observed the way her features softened into a delicate manner, almost identical to the expression she made last night when he was buried deep inside of her. Gods… He hadn’t been able to sleep afterwards.
He had played with her hair and held her till the sun rose instead.
“Why are you staring at me like that?” Esemeray said, a lingering tease edging her tone.
He shifted on his feet, running his hands through his hair.
“Oh, nothing.” He hadn’t realized he was staring at her in any way.
He had never done this—spent time with a woman after sex.
Riggs was a stranger on how to behave. Normally he’d be sneaking out in the middle of night, or worse, get a shoe or a fist thrown at his face when caught fleeing.
The thought of leaving Esemeray never once crossed his mind.
He had even been saddened when the servants barged in the room this morning and kicked him out.
Esemeray squeezed Riggs' arm, pulling him away from his thoughts. “There are so many books here.”
“So many. Did you know?—”
The Historian arrived, thankfully stopping Riggs from continuing his ramble.
Dark curly hair spilled out of a blue velvet robe that flowed behind her as she approached the front desk.
Her compelling lilac eyes sparkled like crystals as she bowed her head in greeting.
“Kohen asked me to direct you today.” She extended her hand, her deep-brown skin gleaming under the skylights above.
“Lovely to meet you,” she said, flashing a welcoming smile.
Riggs offered her a nod, speaking in their common tongue, “Nice to meet you.” They shook hands briefly, then he turned to Esemeray to translate.
The Historian asked, “What can I help you find?”
Riggs said quietly, “The magic systems from the old world.” He also wanted to request The Great Book of Healing. He knew the answer would be no, but he asked anyway, “Also, The Great Book of Healing?—”
“I am sorry?” The Historian shook her head. She scanned Esemeray and Riggs. “I see nothing on your wrists…”
“Wrists?” Riggs glanced at Esemeray, his features turning weary.
The Historian raised her hand, pointing to her arm, to the small tattoo of a desert rose.
Shit. How do you get one of those?
“I can show you the magic systems, but if you wish to read The Great Book Of Healing you must have our traditional ink showing you are worthy.”
Disappointment plunged into his gut. He shook his head, sliding his hands into his pockets. “No.”
Sorry, Ryker…
“Follow me,” the Historian said, her eyes turning into silver slits as a cautious look spread on her face.
“Are you okay?” Esemeray asked with worried eyes.
He nodded. “I will be…”
She offered him a small empathic smile as if she knew what upset him.
Riggs' heart swelled. Gods, how did I get so lucky?
After minutes of following the Historian through the library.
Something moved fast above him, stealing his attention.
Riggs' breath caught as he glanced toward the heavens and assessed the passing clouds through the skylights.
As if the gods were simply reminding him he still had somebody special, the clouds shifted into different shapes, and not just any shape—oh, my my.
“What is it?” Esemeray questioned.
He pointed toward the cloud morphing into the shape of a wolf. “I think I found you.”
“I’m a cloud now?” Esemeray giggled.
“Not just any. A shapeshifter cloud.”
They locked eyes.
“The rarest of them all.”
Esemeray blushed, twirling a lock around her finger. “What makes it so rare?”
“The wind, temperature and humidity has to be just right for a reaction to happen.” He chuckled. “It’s nice to know, I can find you anywhere. Whether its Dazzle shimmering at night, or simply clouds drifting through the sky.”
Esemeray nudged him, laughing. “You are such a goof.”
“Only for you.” Riggs winked, facing the red carpeted staircase.
All his life he imagined what this moment would feel like, and he couldn’t contain the excitement surging through him, or the ridiculous grin spreading across his face.
No one was allowed beneath the library without Kohen’s permission.
And here he was, about to experience it with the love of his life.
How many books are placed on the shelves down below?
The Historian called out from up ahead, “Watch your step.”
He descended the dim, cold stairwell, gripping the warm gold railing to keep balance. In the corner of his eye, Esemeray trembled with every step.
“I won’t let you fall,” he reassured, extending his hand.
Esemeray wrapped her hand around his, offering a soft smile.
Carefully they went down, step by step, the air around them grew colder and the light around them disappeared. Once they reached the bottom level, it was pitch black.
He blinked, tiny white speckles dancing in his vision.
“This way,” the Historian said, her voice and footsteps echoing through the halls. Esemeray hesitated, Riggs' arm locked in place with her fear. Then, with a snap of their guide’s fingers, the tunnel lit up. Torches mounted on the stone walls lit up in a blaze, their heat surprisingly contained.
Kohen must really trust her. A single snap and this entire library could go into flames.
She turned a corner and Riggs' heart nearly stopped.
Aisles and aisles of books lined the seemingly endless labyrinth, some worn while others were in perfect condition as if no one had even touched them in decades.
A cold rush enveloped Riggs' body. He had waited for this moment since he was a boy.
Always dreamed about this—standing in the library underneath Starfall Canyon.
He was here.
This was real.
He was here.
His mouth opened and closed and he hadn’t even realized he let go of Esemeray’s hand until he dragged his hands across his face chasing away the surreal feeling settling deep in his bones. “So, this is what it feels like?”
His heart thundered, his mouth impossibly dry.
The Historian motioned around the aisles of what was rumored to be the oldest books in history. “What you seek is on the top shelf, second aisle. Let me know if you need me. I’ll be right over here,” she said in the Rhabari tongue.
“Thank you,” he said, as he followed her directions.