50. TO THE HIGHLANDS #2
I took a gentle hold of Nivelle’s arm. “Shall we?” I guided her through the archway, squinting as Vanir’s welcoming wind gusted around us, spinning our hair into knots.
Niall and Silas followed, and then, we were free to port. And I knew exactly where we were headed.
Vanir’s guest house was just as it had been before, except now, instead of a single cask of ale, there were three situated on a long wooden table beneath the window that overlooked the mountains in the distance.
Next to the ale were five mugs and a plate of fresh-cut meats and chunks of cold cheese.
“Delightful, isn’t it?” I said, beaming as I headed straight for the snacks and popped a piece of cheese in my mouth. “Vanir is always so thoughtful.”
Behind me, Niall cleared his throat rather obnoxiously.
“Oh come on, he is. And so are you.”
He joined me at the table and snagged a mug, filling it with ale. “Mmm-hmm.”
I raised a brow as I chewed. “Fishing for compliments, are we?”
Before he could answer, Roirdan reached around him, snagged the drink from his grasp, and gulped down its contents.
“If it’s a compliment he wants, then might I say he’s awfully good at serving drinks.
Always thinking of others before himself.
” He flashed Niall a shit-eating grin, then flipped the spout on the cask to pour himself a refill.
Niall cocked his head and blew out a breathy laugh. “You’re lucky I’ve built up enough patience for your antics over the past hundred and eighty years.”
“Remember, Brother, patience is for the weak.”
“Uh-huh . . .”
“Boys,” I said pointedly.
“Boys?” Roirdan echoed.
“Yes. Boys. It’s what humans call young, immature, adolescent males—those who don’t act their age.” I pointed my finger between the two of them. “It’s what you two are being right now.”
Across the room, Remic snickered and folded his arms, keen to watch us jest.
Roirdan snuck a quick glance at Nivelle, who was browsing the bookshelf, pretending not to be so interested in the ensuing conversation. “What do they call females who act the same way?” he muttered under his breath.
The witch slowly turned her head in his direction, and he quickly met my stare again, fighting back another smirk.
“Girls,” I said. “Unfortunately, it doesn’t have the same demeaning effect.” I tossed him a knowing grin, watching as his jaw ticked with irritation beneath his beard.
“How do we sort rooms?” Silas asked, looking at the four surrounding doors.
“That one is mine and Auren’s,” Niall said, pointing to the door closest to the bookshelves. “Remic’s and Roirdan’s are both there.” He indicated to the two doors on opposite sides from each other, framing the floor-to-ceiling window. “Aremis’s room is free for the taking.”
Silas looked at his sister. “You can take it. The settee out here is fine for me.”
I turned to Niall. “Surely we can ask if Vanir would mind providing another bed, or another room—”
“It’s fine,” Silas assured us. “Truly.”
I didn’t quite feel comfortable with the arrangement, but before I could protest further, Nivelle called my name.
“Auren, the book you mentioned in the wraith’s cave is here. She tugged the thin book from its nesting place and gently fanned through the pages.
“The Warrior and The Wraith,” I confirmed. “That’s Roirdan’s favorite.”
The page-flipping halted as Nivelle’s expression of interest fell into a scowl.
Roirdan noticed. “What? Just because I like something doesn’t mean you have to hate it. It’s not like I wrote the damn thing. It won’t kill you if you read it.”
Nivelle opened then closed her mouth, reining in her retort.
Instead of giving him a verbal lashing, she set the book on a table and turned for her room. Unfortunately for her, the door was locked. She jerked at the handle almost violently, then whipped her head around to find Niall. “Unlock this door!”
He lifted an amused brow, hesitating long enough to make her irritation spike even further. When she pushed a harsh breath out her nostrils, he flicked his wrist, and the lock clicked open.
As soon as the door slammed shut behind her, I turned toward Niall. “I knew you could unlock these doors. You just didn’t want me staying in a different room than you the first time we came here.”
“‘Court protocol,’” he said, stating the same excuse he’d told me before.
I shook my head, grinning. “You’re lucky I love you.”
“Yes. Yes I am.”
A half hour later, the five of us stood at the edge of the babbling brook that skirted the guest house as Vanir approached on horseback with five empty-saddled mounts behind him.
He was the embodiment of the highlands with his thick beard, long hair braided back against the curve of his head and swaying where it hung down his chest, and his muscular arms, fully exposed, thanks to his sleeveless tunic.
The leather vambraces around his wrists flexed and groaned as he tugged on his horse’s reins and came to a stop before us.
“Horses?” Niall chuckled. “You’re really pulling out all the stops for the newcomers, aren’t you?”
Vanir laughed, the sound like churning gravel.
“You and your Trium may have seen my territory hundreds of times, but they have not.” He gestured to the siblings.
“And I happen to take great pride in the beauty of my lands. Horseback is the best way to get the full experience.” He swung his leg over the stallion and dropped to the ground with a heavy thud.
Niall clasped forearms with him, and Roirdan did the same. Remic inclined his head, and Silas noted it, following suit. Dionachs, like the witches, didn’t seem to be very keen on physical touch unless absolutely necessary.
Vanir turned his sights on me and smiled. “Auren.” He stretched his arms out and wrapped them around me, lifting me off the ground as we embraced. “Always a pleasure to have you here.”
I could practically feel Niall’s body tensing up at the contact, and I laughed. “You act like you didn’t just see me yesterday.”
“It’s not easy for me to find favor with everyone I meet—ask your mate. And it’s even more rare for me to add someone to my list of favorites.” He winked.
“So, I’m one of your favorites?”
“You are.”
Roirdan leaned over my shoulder to murmur in my ear. “I’m a favorite too.”
“That’s wonderful, Roir. I’m so proud of you.” I reached up and pinched his cheek. He hissed as he swatted my hand away.
Vanir turned and looked at the siblings. “Silas . . . and, Nivelle. Do I have your names right?”
“Yes,” Silas answered. “Nivelle is my sister, and also my wardeness, thanks to a fluke in her magic and an unfortunate event.”
“How very interesting.” Vanir surveyed the witch. “I didn’t get to speak with you last night at the celebration, but I trust that today and tomorrow, we will all get to know each other fairly well.”
Nivelle didn’t balk from his assessment, but she didn’t challenge him either. “I look forward to it,” was her only reply.
“Perfect. Now, let us mount up. I have a horde of beasts corralled in the rocky outcrop of the Northern Downs. And there’s a particular bull who won’t let anyone else touch him, so I’m hoping your particular skill can help with that.
” He nodded toward Roirdan, who straightened his shoulders and rubbed his palms together like he couldn’t wait to get his hands dirty.
“What beasts?” Nivelle asked as the males divided up the horses.
“Dreki,” Niall answered, catching the reins of a smaller mare who tried to trot away. “Hope you’re ready for a good time.”