Devyl stepped past Mara to greet them away from his men. They slowed the instant they saw him. At first, he wasn’t sure he was recognized.
Not until Flaithrí’s gaze swept over his body and his eyes widened. He held his gloved hand up to stay the ten Adoni warriors who were with him.
William and Bart moved to stand at Devyl’s back.
“Friend or foe, Captain?” William asked.
Devyl scratched at his chin as he considered how to answer. “Not sure.” He narrowed his gaze on the riders. “So what’s it to be, cousin Flowery? Are we friends?”
His nostrils flared. “Flah-ree,” he ground out between clenched teeth in the lyrical accent that marked all of their race.
“As I said, Florian—”
“FLAH-ree!” he growled even louder.
William laughed. “Well then, nice to know I’m not the only one you antagonize in such a manner.”
Devyl cut a menacing glare to him.
He held his hands up in surrender. “I’m not questioning your cantankerous nature, Captain. Far be it from me.”
Crossing his arms, he returned his attention to the matter at hand. “So, cousin Flowery, what’s it to be? Blood or wine?”
“I hate you, Dón-Dueli. Your mother should have drowned you the moment she went to wash the afterbirth from you.”
“And yours should have fed you to her hounds.”
Bart cleared his throat suddenly. “Um, Captain? Not questioning you in any way, sir. But is it wise to antagonize them so, given what’s likely to show any second and renew what we just left?”
He passed an irritated smirk at Bart. “Given that I be the rightful king of the throne Flowery’s father currently parks his arse upon, aye. I dare them to question me.” He turned back to his cousin. “That not right, Flowery? Or have you finally found the bullocks to behead your father and come for me?”
He stiffened visibly in his saddle. “What would you have of me … Majesty?” The word was more insult than title of honor.
Ignoring the slight, Devyl glanced over his shoulder as he felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise.
Gadreyal was about to pierce the veil and come after them. He could feel it like a tangible touch on his skin.
“You might want to gather up some troops.”
Flaithrí arched his brow. “Might I inquire as to why?”
No sooner had he asked the question than Devyl’s enemies brought down the shield and found their way into his grandfather’s realm.
Devyl smiled coldly at Flaithrí. “No particular reason, other than if you don’t, you’re going to have something a lot worse than me to worry about.”
19
Devyl’s men scrambled to their positions as the Iri broke through and spilled into the meadow behind them.
“Bloody hell,” Flaithrí cursed as he stood in his stirrups to get a better look. Then he cast a hate-filled grimace down to Devyl. “Did you bring the whole lot of those fetid mongrels here?”
Unsheathing his sword, Devyl shrugged. “Left a few of the smaller ones behind. No need in being greedy.”
Flaithrí began a rush of epithets for Devyl as he used his powers to summon his enchanted armor. He turned to his companion on the right. “Get to my father and summon the watch force. Tell him what we’ve got. Let’s send these bastards back to where they crawled from.”
His companion’s dappling horse stretched out wings from its side. He backed the horse up and launched him into flight.
Devyl summoned his own armor. Now that they were out of the human realm, the rules of engagement were entirely different.
