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.