52. ROIRDAN THE VANQUISHED
“Hellfire,” Vanir echoed. “Seems like a fitting name for the beast.”
The Dreki stomped its paws and let out a clipped roar, flailing its tongue and sending flaming sparks into the air as if in agreement. Each of us cautiously stepped back, giving the beast some space. But not Nivelle. She didn’t budge. She was transfixed.
When the Dreki narrowed its sights on her and growled, Silas stepped forward, ready to swipe her out of harm’s way, but Vanir slammed a hand against his chest. “Leave her,” he said. Silas whipped his head to him, pushing against his restraint, but Vanir held firm. “Trust me.”
The five of us slowly retreated further toward the fenceline, as Nivelle stood before the Dreki, staring into its yellow, slitted eyes.
From atop the beast, Roirdan watched, hands at the ready, one wrapping around the reins, the other poised to withdraw his dagger and sink it into Hellfire’s neck, should he make a wrong move.
Nivelle’s pale hair lifted as Hellfire’s breath washed over her, but instead of backing away, she held out a hand. Roirdan’s mouth parted, as if he were about to protest or tell her to stop, but no words came out.
Hellfire cocked his head, eyeing Nivelle’s outstretched hand. He clicked his teeth together as he sniffed the air around her like he was tasting her scent. His long tail flitted side to side, more curious than before. When his mouth opened, I could see the fiery glow at the back of his throat.
Still, Nivelle held her ground. Her voice was soft, yet strong as she said, “Eftuush.”
“What is she saying?” I whispered to anyone nearby who would hear me.
Vanir leaned closer. “Eftuush. It means ‘easy’ or ‘slow.’”
If she knew the word, that meant it was the language the witches must have shared with the Ancient Fae.
To all our disbelief, Hellfire dipped his head and brushed his snout against Nivelle’s hand.
“Uh, is this normal?” Silas murmured.
“About as normal as a fish walking on land,” Vanir answered. “It seems both of them have a way with these creatures.”
Silas gave the highland lord a deadpan stare. “You call Roirdan’s injuries ‘having a way with these creatures’? He looks like he nearly got split open.”
Vanir shrugged. “Trainers can lose a finger or a limb trying to break the more stubborn mounts. Some suffer burns or get impaled by their claws. A few slashes from the tail is nothing.”
Silas’s wings twitched with obvious disapproval.
Remic let out a sigh. “Don’t worry yourself over it. Roirdan won’t let anything happen to her. He’ll cut out the beast’s tongue or carve out its eyes if it so much as snaps at her.”
“Good to know,” Silas muttered.
Across the pen, Roirdan sat atop the Dreki, completely stunned. Nivelle was petting the beast like it was one of the small wights back at her cottage. Slowly, his hand eased off his weapon, and he leaned forward in the saddle. “How are you doing that?” he asked.
Nivelle continued stroking Hellfire’s scaly maw. “I cast a spell, and now he’s under my control.”
Roirdan’s eyes widened. “You . . .”
She let out a short laugh and shook her head. “No. A spell has to be spoken out loud for it to take. I’m simply channeling good energy toward him.”
“Uh-huh . . .”
Hellfire trilled again, puffing smoke onto Nivelle’s palm as she scratched under his chin with her other hand.
“I may not know much about this world—beyond what I’ve seen on the isles—but I like to think that all creatures operate the same way. All they know is what they’re given.”
Roirdan’s expression softened as he watched her.
I stood in just as much awe. Not only was Nivelle as fearless as he was, but she was speaking as if she were a gentle caregiver and not a magic-wielding threat to whoever crossed her.
It was a side of her that she kept well-hidden, one I hadn’t expected to see.
She gave Hellfire a pat on the snout, then lowered her hand and finally lifted her eyes to Roirdan.
He stiffened under her scrutiny as she mapped the bloodied stripes on his torso that were still in the process of healing.
She dragged her gaze down his thick, sweat-slickened abdominal muscles next, pausing at the deep grooves that cut into his hips and the line of hair that trailed from his naval and disappeared beneath his pants.
He shifted in the saddle, his muscles tensing even more than they already were.
When Hellfire decided he’d had enough of their silence, he huffed and stamped his front paws, dragging his claws through the grass as if to say, Please release me from whatever torture this is.
Roirdan took that as his cue to dismount. He tugged the reins, forcing the Dreki to lower itself, then he swung his leg over the saddle and began to slide down the beast’s side.
Suddenly, his body halted as something he wore snagged against the hardware of the strap that wrapped beneath the Dreki’s abdomen.
He leaned back as much as he could to see what was caught.
The culprit: his belt.
Hellfire growled, shifting his hind end to the side to try and detach Roirdan, but all it did was jostle the commander like a ragdoll.
Roirdan’s legs flailed, trying to find footing against Hellfire’s rounded barrel of a belly.
I could hear him mutter something as he reached further up onto the saddle to lift himself an inch or two.
With his other hand, he tried to unhook the entanglement, but fumbled.
There was too much weight resting on the prong of the saddle strap, and Hellfire wasn’t holding still.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Roirdan said, his voice rising with frustration.
Beneath him, Nivelle was trying to figure out what to do as the Dreki grew more and more restless.
“Can—uh . . . can you calm him down for a minute?” Roirdan gritted out while he tried to hold himself steady against the moving giant.
Nivelle held her hands up, trying to signal the Dreki.
“Eftuush, eftuush,” she chanted as she watched Hellfire’s paws, careful not to get caught underfoot as he began to rear up.
She snapped her head around, finding the five of us standing idly by, and the look she gave us promised retribution for watching and doing nothing to help.
Vanir chuckled under his breath. “This is far better than the flight itself.”
Niall laughed as well. “He’s going to kill us later.”
“No. She will, though,” Remic said, inclining his head to the witch, who was now grunting and waving her hands at the Dreki, completely out of other ideas.
“Fuck! Say some spell or something!” Roirdan yelled. “I can’t get my belt unhooked from this damn thing!”
“Unless you want him dead or paralyzed, there’s not a spell for making something freeze in place.”
Roirdan shot her a look over his shoulder. “What, you can’t just make one up?”
“Oh. Yeah. Sure. Let me just try.” She planted her hands on her hips and fell quiet for a long moment.
“Anything?”
“No! Because it doesn’t work that way!”
Roirdan banged into the Dreki’s side again, then glared down at Nivelle.
He hoisted himself up with one arm, using his feet to try and thrust his body away from the Dreki’s and unhook the entangled hardware.
When his body slammed back into the beast’s, he pounded his fist against its scaly skin in frustration.
“Nivelle, I need you to climb up here and unhook my belt!”
She halted. “You want me to do what?!”
“Grab the reins, use them to climb up his front leg, then swing over to me and unhook my belt!”
“Are you insane?!”
“Yeah, I think that’s a bit obvious!”
She scoffed and turned back toward us. “Can one of you brutes be of some help here?”
Every male either held up their hands or stayed silent.
I had half a thought to just use my power to rip the saddle from the Dreki and free Roirdan from his predicament, but watching Nivelle come to his rescue was much more appealing.
To try and ease the tension, I called out, “Hellfire likes you, so it’s probably best if you do it.” I winced, then tried to give her an encouraging smile, but it ricocheted off her glare.
Gods, she really was going to tear us all apart later.
“C’mon!” Roirdan hollered, nervously eyeing Hellfire’s tail as the creature’s growing agitation started to become a real concern.
Nivelle balled her hands into fists, then jumped and caught a hold of the leather strap that dangled a few feet above her. She pressed her boots into Hellfire’s front leg and pulled herself up. “Eftuush,” she repeated between breaths, trying her best to calm the Dreki as she climbed.
Hellfire whipped his neck around, trying to get eyes on what was happening. He let out a rasping hiss as Nivelle slung herself around the curve of his ribcage and caught onto Roirdan’s outstretched arm.
She held herself steady by wrapping her legs around Roirdan’s thigh, using her free hand to reach for the clasp of his belt.
“Lean back,” she commanded. He angled his hips just enough to allow her small hand to slip in between him and the Dreki.
She bit her lip, concentrating, and Roirdan cleared his throat a little too loudly as she worked at the clasp.
Beside me, Remic and Niall were about to come undone with laughter. Both of their shoulders shook as they pushed breaths out their noses and utterly failed at smothering their grins.
“Lift up,” Nivelle instructed.
Using both hands, Roirdan gripped the saddle and stirrup, and pulled up, while Nivelle unfastened his belt and pushed the saddle strap’s prong free from where it had punctured a new hole through the leather.
Click, click, schlinnng.
The belt and saddle came unhooked from one another.
“Release the strap and hold on to me,” Roirdan said, anchoring Nivelle to his side. She did as he asked, and in a blink, they were on the ground, several feet away, having ported at his command.
Hellfire cantered off to the far side of the enclosure, sending a burst of flame into the air.