By the time we’d made it back to the hideout, all the Desert Boys had returned from dropping off buckets of water around the town. And to my surprise, they were all clutching abandoned bits of wood or broken shutters.
“How many injured?” Cion asked.
Dimic stepped forward. “Liten got a bad cut on his stomach and Rivel got his nose bashed in, but Tania and Bala are seeing to them. Everyone is accounted for.” He paused for a moment, tightening his grip on the wooden board he held. “Can we go?”
All eyes turned expectantly to Cion.
Cion seemed to be mulling something over. After a pause he said, “Okay.”
A loud cheer arose from the Desert Boys, and they scuttled out one of the entrances like a pack of scorpions.
“Wait,” Cion called. The boys froze. “Rodric will be angry after our raid today. Angrier than usual.” Cion’s eyes flicked in my direction before he continued. “No one goes into town until I say so.”
He waited until each of the boys nodded in turn before tilting his head toward the door. The boys rushed out.
He turned to me. “You should come with us.”
I didn’t admit I’d been looking forward to resting after the raid. My throat still stung where the cuff had dug into it, and I was the only one not used to climbing up and down sand dunes on a daily basis. Even with all my training, it was difficult. Not to mention I felt like I could gulp down all the water in the oasis and still be thirsty. But I kept my mouth shut. I knew there were people worse off than me.
“Where are you going?” I asked.
“It’s a surprise.”
I rolled my eyes. He never made anything easy.
“I don’t know if I can handle any more surprises today.” My mind was abuzz with thoughts of my father now that my body was slowing down. I couldn’t decide if it was better to keep moving, to keep going so numbness didn’t overtake me, or if I wanted that numbness to drown out what I’d learned about my mother’s death. “I’m worried about what my father will do now that he knows I’m working with you. Maybe we should stay here and plan.”
“He can’t do anything different from what he’s done to us for years. We survived then, and we’ll survive now,” Cion said.
“How can you dismiss it that quickly?”
He offered me a small smile. “We never know what the king or Rodric is going to do. We only survive one day at a time. That’s all we can do. That and celebrate our small victories.”
“What victories?” It didn’t feel like we’d won anything. Maybe some water, but at what cost? We’d lost Yeri, there were still so many without water, and my father had put a price on my head.
“We’re still alive,” Cion said. “We’re still fighting.”
“Yeri’s not,” I said quietly.
Cion hung his head. “We can’t focus on what we’ve lost or the weight of it will bury us faster than the sand. We have to focus on what’s still to gain. We have to focus on finding joy where we can.” He tossed me a long piece of wood. “Here.”
It stretched from my neck to my thighs and was wider than I was.
“What’s this for?” I asked. I ran my fingers down the smooth lines in the grain. It was an old piece of wood, and I had no idea where he’d gotten it.
“Finding joy and getting your mind off your father,” he said. He picked up another plank of wood and tucked it under his arm. Then he motioned for me to follow him.
I hesitated, but the longer I stayed still, the more my stomach rolled at the thought of my father. I wanted to push that pain off as long as I could.
If we were going to train, that would help more than anything. The world always melted away when I trained. Yet I didn’t think we were heading to more training, not with all the boys tagging along.
I was right. After walking for about ten minutes, Cion paused at the bottom of a tall dune. Ahead of us, boys staggered up the hill like a reverse avalanche. Some had pieces of wood strapped to their backs. Others cradled them under their arms.
The first boy to reach the top of the dune triumphantly lifted his piece of wood above his head. Then he tossed it out in front of him, chasing it for a distance before hopping on. He stayed standing on the wood as it sped down the dune, leaving a trail behind him.
He wove back and forth. He zipped past several other boys still struggling upward. As I watched, more and more boys jumped on their boards and headed down the dune. A few of the younger boys lay on their stomachs on top of their boards rather than standing.
I’d never heard such shouts of glee as I did from the boys coming down the hill. As soon as they hit the bottom, they snatched up their boards and headed back to the top.
“Sand surfing,” Cion said. “It gives them something to look forward to after a raid. Come on.” He began the long hike up the dune. Dimic slid past us, spraying us with a layer of sand. Cion put up his arm to block the spray; when he let it fall back down, a smile spread across his face. It made him look younger, and it erased the hardness that normally soured his features. And for the first time, I noticed two small dimples appear at the edges of his smile.
For a moment, I found myself staring. But then Cion took off toward the top of the hill shouting, “Just wait until I catch up with you, Dimic.”
I raced after Cion. By the time I reached the top of the hill, I was out of breath.
“I’d try going down on your stomach first,” Cion said. “It takes a while to get used to.”
I wanted to hop on my piece of wood as I’d seen the other boys do, but I didn’t want to make a fool of myself. I nodded and dropped my wood to the ground.
Cion instructed me how to lie atop it. “Try to pull up the end of the wood. Otherwise you’ll get a face full of sand.” He lay on his board to demonstrate the movement. His biceps flexed as he pulled up on the board and slid a few feet forward. “Arch your back slightly.” He pushed off his board and waited for me to copy his movements.
Once I had, he moved behind me. “Good,” he said. “Enjoy.” And with those words, he grabbed my ankles and shoved me forward.
The slope of the hill fell out beneath me. My stomach went with it. I tipped forward, and I knew I could have stopped by putting my feet down or plunging my arms into the sand. I didn’t want to. I let my weight tip me forward over the edge.
I wasn’t expecting the rush of wind. I snapped my eyes shut as sand sprayed my face. I couldn’t be sure if the shouting came from me or from the wind whistling by.
“Close your mouth,” someone shouted behind me. I snapped my lips shut as a wave of sand smacked my face. Remembering Cion’s words, I pulled up on the front of the wood, which lessened the amount of grains that spit against me. I opened my eyes. Liquid sand sped past me as I glided over the surface.
Before I could even process what was going on, it was over. I was at the bottom of the hill. Only Cion hadn’t told me how to stop, and I hadn’t paid attention to how the other boys got off their boards. I’d been too preoccupied watching their flights down the hill. I skidded across the sand, rolling off the board until I came to rest at the base of the next dune.
Another board came to a stop next to my head.
Cion peered down at me. “That’s an interesting way to get off your board. What do you call it? The Princess Plunge?” The way he cocked his eyebrow matched his lopsided grin.
I got to my feet, brushing away the excess sand. Then I gathered a fistful of sand and launched it at his middle. “I would have been better if you’d actually taught me how to stop.”
The sand I threw collided harmlessly against his chest. He looked down at where it had hit him before looking back to me. “If you were aiming for my face,” he said, “you missed.”
“If I’d wanted to hit your face,” I said, “I would have.”
“Really?” His eyes brightened at the challenge. He dropped to the ground, rolled forward, and gathered sand in his hand all in one fluid motion. As he ended his roll, he tossed the sand toward me. I ducked out of the way.
“Sand fight,” one of the boys called.
The next thing I knew, I was the recipient of handfuls of sand tossed in my direction. I snatched up my board and used it as a shield. I blocked one handful and let loose one of my own. It hit Dimic directly in the back of the head.
He spun and launched more in my direction. While he attacked me, another boy snuck behind him and poured sand down the back of his pants. “Larch,” he called, ignoring me and going after the other boy.
While I was watching Dimic and Larch wrestling in the sand, I forgot about the cardinal rule of battle—always assume there is another opponent waiting for you.
A blast of sand hit my cheek. I turned to find Cion standing there nonchalantly. He raised his hands to say he had no idea where that sand had come from.
I drove one end of my board into the sand and dropped behind it. I scooped up handfuls of sand and launched them his direction. Instead of running away or returning fire, he raced toward me. Just when I thought he’d collide with my board, he did a front flip, landing behind me. He drained a fistful of sand from his palm into my hair.
With the board at my back and Cion in front of me, there was only one move I could make. I lunged forward toward his knees, tackling him.
He retaliated by flipping me over and pinning me in the sand.
“Ha,” he said. “Got you.”
His eyes were as dark as a desert night and just as unnavigable. Strands of hair fell around his face. He whisked them back with a flip of his head. “You shouldn’t have left your back exposed.”
My chest heaved from exertion and the adrenaline still coursing through me. “I know.”
His eyes studied my face for a moment longer before he eased off me. I sat up quickly. I couldn’t bring myself to look at him. Around us, most of the boys had ceased their sand fight and returned to the dune.
The warmth of the sand spread through my body, and the longer I sat there next to Cion, the worse it burned. I stood up and grabbed my board. I refused to acknowledge that the heat didn’t go away once I left the sand behind. It flurried in my chest and tugged at my heart. I shoved it back down.
“Race you to the top,” I called over my shoulder as I sprinted upward. I didn’t wait to see if he would follow.
He still made it to the top before I did. I could have sworn he turned to make sure I was looking before he smiled, threw his board onto the sand, and hopped on. He surfed down the hill, his board spitting out sand behind it. He snapped his board back and forth to take him different directions. As he neared the bottom of the hill, he crouched lower, speeding up. He let his speed pull him up the next dune. He did a backward flip at the top. He landed and drifted down the rest of the hill with a grin on his face.
I rolled my eyes. If he could show off, then so could I. I tossed my board into the sand. I was now the only one at the top of the hill. At the bottom, everyone turned their faces toward me. Cion’s grin had thinned to a smirk. He motioned for me to go ahead, then he crossed his arms over his chest, waiting.
Waiting to see me fall, but I wouldn’t give them the satisfaction. At least I hoped I wouldn’t. I wet my lips with what little moisture I had and leapt onto the board.
It skittered out below me. It continued a few feet down the hill without me while I landed on my back. Landing may not have hurt my body, but it certainly hurt my pride. Laughter rang out from the boys. My only consolation was that from the bottom of the hill no one could see how red I’d gone.
I retrieved my board and brought it back up to the top. Squaring my shoulders, I leapt on again. This time I was ready for the whoosh of air that threatened to drag me backward. I leaned forward as I’d seen Cion do. I didn’t pull my legs side to side as he did—it took all my strength to keep the board straight under my feet. Every bump in the dune left by another surfer tried to knock me off balance. I found by bending my knees I could absorb the blow.
I concentrated so hard on my feet that I didn’t notice how close I was to the bottom of the hill. I looked up to see a small group of boys scatter before me. Behind them, Cion loomed large. My feet faltered. The front of the board bit into the sand. I launched forward. Right into Cion.
He caught me around the waist, somehow managing to keep us both upright.
I found myself laughing, smiling, cheeks still red from the wind.
His eyes were as bright when he spoke. “You may not know how to stop, Kateri,” he said, “but you sure know how to fly.” His arms released me, but his eyes didn’t. His comment had been in jest, almost friendly. It was a tone not often used in the palace, and it made me want to retreat, to put up walls so thick that not a single grain of sand could find its way through, because as soon as one grain found a way in, it was only a matter of time before the rest of the wall eroded.
Pretty soon I’d be going back behind the palace walls. What was it about Cion that made me keep forgetting that?
I took a few steps backward. “When do we train again?” I turned my gaze toward the top of the hill and absently smoothed back the hairs that escaped from my braid.
“Tomorrow.”
I nodded. I knew his eyes were still on me. Though mine were on the top of the hill, my mind was imagining the way his arms had felt around my waist.