Toryn and Konal emerged from the trees a few moments later. He glanced around for Rickert but didn’t see him. He wasn’t looking forward to the ass-chewing he’d get when he told the guy about his unauthorized mission to New Seattle to find Fallon’s killer. But maybe Toryn had already told him.
He acknowledged the two Iron Guild warriors, then dismounted and removed his helmet and gloves. A thick clump of nettle with its jagged-edged leaves and tiny white flowers blocked his approach to the cabin. Even though he wore heavy riding gear, he sidestepped it. Growing up on the other side of the portal where warriors usually wore kilts, he’d learned to avoid the stinging plant altogether.
“Good to see you, man.” Toryn gave him a hearty clap on the back and fell in step with him up to the front porch. With a string of fish slung over one shoulder, he wore jeans and one of those quilted flannel shirts that doubled as a coat.
“Yeah, you too.”
Konal circled the bike, giving a low whistle. Like Toryn, he was now sporting a short beard he hadn’t had the last time Asher saw him. “What a sweet fuckin’ ride. Is it yours?”
“Technically, a friend and I own it together. It was a piece of shit when he bought it. I rebuilt the engine and fixed it up.” The only problem was that he couldn’t bring Conry along, so he hadn’t ridden it much. The dog had really taken to Olivia, so he didn’t feel too guilty leaving him behind this time.
“Niiiice.” Konal’s hands were all over the bike, touching everything. He was about to tell him to keep his meaty paws off. That he didn’t want anything fucked up or— “Shit!” Konal hissed, jerking his hand back from one of the hot exhaust pipes.
Asher and Toryn both laughed. Served him right.
“You can look,” Asher said, “but don’t touch. It’s much safer.”
“Ah, go fuck yourselves,” Konal grumbled, blowing on his burned fingers.
Toryn pretended to give Asher the once-over. “Sorry, but he’s not really my type.” Then, in falsetto, he added, “Look at him. He’s just too big and muscle-y.”
Asher gave him a shove. “Shut it.”
Toryn didn’t. “Don’t be so modest. You’re too much of a stud muffin for me with all those muscles and shit.”
Konal erupted in fits of laughter.
“Are you through?” Neyla said curtly, clearly not amused by their banter. “We weren’t expecting any of you so soon.”
When Asher had first met her, he wasn’t exactly her number one fan, and he’d said some pretty shitty things about her to Rickert. He didn’t blame her for not warming up to him. But his opinion of her had quickly changed. If it hadn’t been for Neyla, the army would’ve destroyed the village of Crestenfahl, killed many of their people, and taken the infants they’d found back through the portal.
“Decided to come early,” he replied. “Took a chance that you and Rickert came through the portal already.”
“You lucked out, then.”
Truth was, he needed to get away and clear his head. He needed to put the brakes on whatever was happening between Olivia and him, before it was too late.
“Were you anywhere near the explosion in New Seattle?” Toryn asked. “That was the same club where you were going to track down the Fixer, right?”
“Ha. I was there when it happened. Never did find the Fixer but I did see the bastard who set the bomb, although I didn’t know that’s what he was doing at the time. Definitely looked military to me.”
Neyla scowled. “The Fixer?”
“That’s what they call him,” Asher said. “The guy responsible for Fallon’s death. Is Rickert around? That way, I can tell you all what I know.”
“He’s inside, but isn’t feeling too well.” Without explaining any further, Neyla removed a dagger from beneath her coat and held it out to him. He took the weapon and turned it over in his hands. It was perfectly balanced, with an intricate floral pattern carved into the handle. Not too heavy either, which made it ideal for a woman like Neyla to wield against a would-be attacker.
“Is this what I think it is?”
She nodded. “Cold-forged Balkirk steel. Rickert had the knife made for me and insisted on bringing it through the portal. As you can imagine, he’s been miserable with iron sickness ever since he crossed through with it.”#p#分页标题#e#
Asher grimaced. He didn’t need to imagine. He knew what that felt like. But he didn’t blame the guy. He’d have done the same thing.
“I tried to talk him out of it,” she said, “but he insisted. We knew he’d be sick for a while, so we left well before the rendezvous date to give him time to recover. Just to warn you, he’s in a foul mood.”