Page 165 of The Edge of Darkness

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.”

If I was honest, I enjoyed horseback riding more than porting. Vanir was right—to bypass the highlands with porting magic was a terrible injustice to the majesty of this place. The trees were few and far between, but the landscape had no need for them. The rolling hills wound between greater peaks adorned with rocky cliffs, and pristine glens with sparkling clear water.

It was an effort to keep my horse from stopping to sip from every stream she took me over. She was a dappled beauty—dark gray with white spots drizzled over her entire body down to her blackened legs. Vanir had warned me not even a few minutes into our ride, that the horse, whose name was Willow, made it her personal goal to drink from every water source she came across.

“I’d drink from every stream too if I were you,” I whispered to Willow as she bent to lap up a few mouthfuls at the latest water crossing.

Ahead of us, the rest of the group rode on, listening to Vanir’s deep voice as he told tales of the Ancient Fae who enchanted these waters to glow purple under cover of night, and laid protective stone circles for defense against the spirits that roamed in the dark.

Nivelle seemed fascinated. Her long, pale blonde hair flowed freely behind her, whipping this way and that every time Vanir pointed out a landmark or something out of the ordinary.

From a few horses behind, Roirdan watched her sway in the saddle and didn’t bother to hide his stare.

I shook my head, blowing out a breath and talking to Willow again since she was the only one within hearing distance. “That male is going to get himself in trouble with her.”

Willow snorted, as if to say, I agree.

“I think he likes her. And I think she likes him, but she’ll never say or show it—she’s too stubborn. And so is he.”

Willow tossed her mane, giving me a soft whinny in response.

“What are you two scheming about back there?” Niall called out from where he’d stopped his horse a few dozen feet away, waiting for me to catch up.

“Schemes are secret, my love. And I don’t think my observation is any secret.” I gently urged Willow into a faster pace until we were aside Niall and his red roan. “It seems to me like Roirdan has developed a weakness for Nivelle.”

Niall looked ahead, observing. “How can you be sure?”

“Are you telling me you haven’t seen the way he looks at her? Or how he acts in her presence? He’s a total prick—always giving her a hard time and making her squirm.”