Riley POV
I turn towards the Northern Chief with a feeling of confusion and shock. Quaahir rolls his eyes and then looks between the onyx spear in his hands and the unconscious girl in my arms.
"What the hell, Quaahir?" I ask.
"Hold him still," he instructs a very concerned Esa. The warrior's clenched jaw and furrowed brows were not the biggest votes of confidence. If anything, he tilts his body, so Samuel is further away from the Nubian in an effort to protect the writhing Norseman.
"Look," he motions to the 'sleeping' pixie and takes a step towards the pair. "It will only take a second."
"Quaahir!" I growl. This finally gets his attention.
"First you zap this one with that mystery rod that looks highly suspicious. You do not know what you just did and now you want to go again?"
He rolls his eyes but stops his motion, tossing the object to his other hand smirking in my direction.
"So now you care about the Nøkkensons?" he teases. Not the time for this!
