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.

CHAPTER

18

The sun had nearly set by the time we made it back to the hideout.

“Everyone, take three ladles of water before bed,” Cion called as the boys clamored inside with cheeks red from both sun and sand spray.

I gulped down my share. It wasn’t nearly enough. My lips had started to crack, and my skin was starting to feel as wrinkled as the leather of my gladiator gear.

Dinner was a quiet affair of bread passed around so everyone could rip off a chunk.