62. Riggs
RIGGS
Balancing on the narrow beams of the temple seemed easy in the moment, but Riggs didn’t anticipate the blazing heat against his back or the metal along the building burning the sole of his boots.
“Crap,” he muttered, gazing down at the black imprints he left with every step. “Un-fucking-believable.”
It was another thing to add to the Eddie list. Either that man was losing his damn mind or he was just a dick.
Fucking bastard.
Trying his hardest not to tip over, he sprawled out his arms to keep his balance.
He’d always been a climber, but balancing had never been his forte.
In the past, he had taken many falls to the face.
Whoa…whoa…whoa… Riggs sucked in a sharp breath, regaining his footing.
Riggs moved stealthily and leapt to the next beam.
Peeking around the corner, pressure filled his chest as he spotted three guards patrolling down below.
Fuck.
Even though he had higher ground, he never could be too sure who’d be lurking. Knowing Kohen, he’d have guards stationed on the highest point of the temple. Kohen wouldn’t risk the disadvantage. Riggs needed to get to the stables and, if time were on his side, his plan might just work.
Smells of burning tar filled his nose, and a tang of smoke arose. His heart stopped at the sight. His boots were smoking. He needed to get down.
Now.
Riggs spied a pole up ahead he could glide down from. But any second longer on the hot burning metal, his shoes were going to catch fire. And he had mere moments before they did.
Without making a sound, Riggs ran as fast as his legs could carry him, counting down the seconds.
Four.
Three.
Two.
One.
Riggs jumped, hot metal scorching his gloves and thighs as he slid down. He clenched his jaw hard enough to shatter teeth, breathing through the fire coursing along his skin.
Every fiber of his being was screaming to let go of the pole; he did no such thing. He had one job: get Esemeray out of the temple.
She’s running out of time.
His knees screamed in protest as he slammed to the sandy ground. He ripped his gloves off, shoving them into his pockets. His palms somewhat survived, just a few burns?—
His pants on the other hand did not make it; two identical rips on either side, blood pooling around the fabric. Shit. Lifting his boot to check the damage, he angled his head at the regrowing soles.
Riggs' lips lifted, his heart warming. Eddie took care of me after all.
Backing into the curve of the temple, Riggs moved along the wall, careful not to be seen by the patrolling guards. He sighed, peering around the corner, and spied the wooden building out in the expanse.
The stables.
By the time he reached the stable doors, he was covered in sweat and in desperate need for water.
With careful, quiet movements, Riggs creaked open the bronze door. A cool breeze brushed against him, chilling him in all the right places. He inhaled deeply, scrunching his nose as horse shit wafted in his nose.
“They can use magic to make it cooler, but not to get rid of the smell? Figures,” Riggs quipped, spotting River and Storm in the front stall.
An attendee approached with wide eyes. “Can I help you?” he said in the common tongue, his accent thick.
Thinking fast, Riggs' face flushed. He spoke in the Rhabari tongue, “Kohen called for you.” He pointed to the temple. “And said it was urgent, so you better get going.”
The attendee darted out, disappearing quickly. Riggs scanned for others—the space was empty. Thank the gods.
“Hey, girl.” Riggs reached out, brushing Storm’s coarse coat as she nudged his hand and neighed loudly. “We don’t have much time, but I missed you too.” Glancing over to River, Riggs clenched his jaw. “Hey, buddy, are you going to play nice today?”
Riggs turned, humming. Saddles… Saddles… Saddles…
There, in the back corner.
Riggs saddled up River and Storm in record time.
I’d make a good stable boy—I’d be the fastest one around.
Slowly reaching for River’s reins to guide him out, he nipped at his hand. “You little shit.” Riggs reeled back, feeling the burning settle in. “Gods, why do you hate me?” River pranced as he did every time he bit him.
“Look, I know you and I have never seen eye to eye, but we don’t have time for your temper tantrums today.” River neighed, rising on his hind legs and threatened to kick.
Riggs raised his hands, attempting to settle him down. “Shh…you’re going to get us caught.” River lunged at him, nearly snapping at him again. Riggs pointed a stern finger. “Shut up and calm the fuck down.”
River glared, huffing and shaking his head.
Riggs never understood why Killian chose him. River was as feral as they came—and an asshole at that. He supposed that’s why Killian named him River in the first damn place; just like the roaring rapids, he was wild and unpredictable.
After many failed attempts and brutal abuse from the beast, River finally allowed him to guide him out. How does Kills do it?
Storm walked forward, lowering her head and nuzzled Riggs' neck. She’d always been affectionate ever since the day he purchased her— “Ow!” Riggs yelped, pushing Storm away. “You too? What’s gotten into you?”
Taking a deep breath, he begged the gods for any ounce of patience. “Alright you two, focus.” Craning his neck, he eyed the remaining stalls, assessing the many horses of various sizes and colors, Riggs couldn’t stop the mischievous smirk spreading across his face.
Fuck, yeah.
“Hyah!” Riggs shouted, tucking in tightly. Fire erupted on his palms as he gripped the reins. Storm’s powerful body moved beneath him as she flew toward the temple.
He could barely hold his seat with his burning thighs.
Damn pole.
Thundering hooves sounded behind him as all the horses from the stable galloped close behind. River was neck to neck with Storm, his mane whipping with the force of his movements. His midnight majestic coat was nothing less than glorious underneath the afternoon desert sun.
Staring ahead, Riggs' muscles tightened in his torso as a horde of temple guards formed a line, blocking his path. The guards up ahead unsheathed their swords, preparing for what was headed their way.
Riggs bellowed against the wind, “You grimy fools!” Riggs unsheathed his sword with a grimace. His heart lodged into his throat.
There was someone else running down the stairs.
His adrenaline sobered, and all the color drained from his face.
Izara.