That made me smile, which I needed. I was nervous as all get-out. The muscles in Riot’s legs were twitching. His breath lifted in puffs of steam. He had gold eyes—and they hadn’t unlocked from mine. He looked like he wanted to eat my head.
“Keep going,” Daryn said. “And maybe try to be positive and nice? I think he can sense what you’re saying.”
Positive, check. Nice, check. Wait—nice?
Shit. Okay.
“You seem like you’ll make a pretty good warhorse,” I said as I continued approaching him carefully. “Once you stop trying to kill me, I think we’ll do a lot better. Not that I don’t appreciate your level of aggression. If we can just refocus it, I think we should be good. There’s the other issue, too. Of you being on fire. But I see lots of potential once we figure that stuff out.” I had almost reached him. Three more steps and I’d be able to touch him.
Riot’s lips pulled back, and I was suddenly looking at a lot of big teeth.
“It’s okay,” Daryn said next to me. “That’s how horses smell. He’s just checking out your scent. Hold out your hand and let him smell you.”
“You’re sure he won’t bite me?”
“No,” she said, with a chuckle. “I’m not.”
She was going to pay for that one.
I could feel Riot’s warmth radiating around him. And I could smell him—a smell somewhere between hot pavement, hot metal, and horse sweat. I extended my hand slowly, saying good-bye to my fingers.
Riot stretched his neck, reaching forward, his mouth hovering over my palm. His breath drifted over my skin in hot puffs. I’d thought his eyes were gold, but the color was deeper. More like amber.
I noticed he had pulled back on the flames over his body. At the moment, they curled only along his tail. His jaw was solid and huge, and the strands of his mane were copper and gold and red, every thread a different shade.
“You’re one of a kind, aren’t you?” I said.
He was looked at me so directly. I felt like he wasn’t just listening to me; he was understanding. That gave me a boost of confidence.
“Okay, Big Red. I’m going to touch you now. If you’re going to burn me I’d appreciate it if … you didn’t burn me.”
I reached out and rested my hand on his neck. I felt solid muscle covered by fine soft hair that radiated heat. Warm. But I’d expected much more. He just felt like he’d been sitting in the sun.
What got to me though, after a couple of seconds, was feeling him breathe. Feeling his pulse. Feeling all the power in him. All his fire, inside and out.
If I could find a way to connect with him, it’d be mine.
He would be mine.
Maybe this was going to work out.
*
After that, I was on a mission to bond with him. I spent the next few days calling him up and letting him run himself out, then approaching him and resting my hand on his neck. We gradually worked up to the point where he’d let me drag my hand over his body as I walked around him. He liked this, I could tell, because he’d dial back the fire, keeping it away from me. I had yet to actually make contact with any flames on him. His red coat just felt warm, and with the weather in Jotunheimen continuing to cool, the warmth felt good.
I kept talking as I worked with him because Daryn had said I should. I told him about my mom and Anna. I told him about the San Francisco Giants and the game of baseball in general, which took forever. Riot got an education on the national pastime. I told him about RASP, which he liked the best. I’d been skipping stones into the water, in perpetual motion as usual, and he’d come right up next to me, his big hooves clopping into the shallows like he wanted to hear me better.
Even when his eyes were staring off across the fjord, I felt his attention. He listened to me even when I wasn’t speaking.
After a few days, I started pacing along the banks as I talked and he plodded along beside me, his hooves like small meteors crashing by my feet, his tail blowing along, various parts of him on fire. Riot had a lot going for him, but subtlety wasn’t his gift.
I quickly became addicted to the feeling of being with him. I grew impatient at the end of my training sessions with Marcus, eager to get back to Riot. I was first to rise and last to sleep, as always, but now it was because I wanted to spend as much time as I could with my horse.
Little things got me. How Riot would look over if I stopped talking like, Why’d you stop, Gideon? How he’d nudge my arm to let me know he wanted my hand on his shoulder. How, when we’d see the other guys with their horses, he’d become a little crazy and overprotective. And my favorite—how whenever I mentioned Daryn he’d strike a pose and torch up. Major show-off.
He was funny. Just really great company.
A couple of days into working with him, I laced up my cross-trainers and took off. He stayed right with me again, so we added running to our time together. Occasionally, we’d pass the other guys and there’d be comments. I had horseback riding all wrong, they’d say. Or they’d place bets as to when I’d jog by with a saddle on my back, Riot sitting in it. I didn’t care. I loved running on my own, but with a horse keeping pace for you?