I’d always believed that only a true master of the desert could sit on the throne, and I’d thought I was one because I was strong. Because I took after my father, after Tamlin. But there was so much that we didn’t know about the desert. In order to be truly strong, I’d need to master all parts of it. Just like Tamlin had done.

Cion was the only one who could help me do it.

“Fine,” I said.

“Good. Do it again.”

I tightened my grasp on my sword and nodded.

Cion seemed pleased I didn’t object. He motioned for me to join him on top of the hill. Once there, he pointed to our feet. “Watch the sand,” he said. “See how your steps cause ripples to spread down the dune. It’s only a few grains before a big wave. The hill does the same thing. Don’t watch the big wave coming at you. By then, it’s too late to react. Look for the small trail just before the wave. That will show where the wave is coming from.” He plunged his foot in and out of the sand to show me the effect.

“That would have been helpful to know last time,” I mumbled.

Cion ignored my comment. “It’s the same with each opponent. If you can recognize where they’re aiming, not only can you block them, you can form an attack of your own.” He gestured for me to head back down into the tossing sand.

I straightened the mask on my face and plodded down the hill. I waited at the edge, watching the formations. There was no pattern to the movements. Sometimes the waves would crash together and spread outward like wings before dropping back into the sand. Other times, they’d simply toss upward and shake until they settled down into place.

I watched the hills, and then I began to see it. A small trickling of sand preceded each wave. I studied the movement over and over again before I threw myself back into the chaos.

Sand spiraled around me. It grabbed at my feet and pulled. I fought upward with every step. But every time I looked down at my feet, I lost sight of the trail indicating a wave was coming. Sand pelted me in the back, sending me staggering forward. I barely kept my footing, running to stay ahead of the tosses.

Each gust of wind brought with it more and more sand. It piled around my ankles. I tripped. A layer sprayed across my back. I rolled before any more could bury me, and then I half stumbled, half crawled until I was out of the surf. I collapsed near Cion’s feet.

Grains stung my eyes and burned my throat. I wanted nothing more than to lie down and catch my breath. But I forced myself up. I shook off the sand and strode back toward the twisting pit.

This was my destiny, to be master of the desert. Rodric wasn’t the next Tamlin. I was.