“What was your plan if you found their hideout?” he continued. “Were you going to take them all on at once? I’ve taught you well, but not even you could take on Cion.”

I rolled my eyes. “Cion doesn’t exist.” As far as I’d heard, no one had ever laid eyes on the Desert Boys’ leader. He was more likely a myth made up to scare us. No one could be as good with a blade as the rumors made him out to be.

People said he could swing his sword through the gap in a snake’s forked tongue before the snake could retract it. That tale was outdone only by the rumor that if you threw a grain of sand into the air, he could split it in half with his blade. But the people who spread such things were likely the same ones who said the sand parted for him, and that’s why he could sneak up on the wells so quietly. Or that the dunes settled around him like a cloak, making him impossible to see. Some even claimed he was made of sand, and that’s why the guards couldn’t catch him. He would just melt away into nothing when they tried.

I didn’t believe any of it.

But Rodric did. Especially the claims about his skill with a sword, which is probably why he sliced out the tongue of anyone he found talking about Cion’s abilities.

That was why I didn’t dare mention I’d tried to do the things Cion was rumored to be capable of. I’d snuck down to the kitchens and stolen snakes from the baskets before they were killed for feasts. I’d set them free in my room and tried for days on end to slip my blade between their outstretched tongues. All I succeeded in doing was scraping my floor and having to dodge endless numbers of bites. I’d even tried splitting a grain of sand in half. I could smack it and knock it away. But only one grain of sand ever hit the floor. It wasn’t possible. None of it was.

Rodric’s face darkened. “He exists.” His hands clenched the bars of the railing, strangling them as he leaned his weight forward.

“If he’s as good as everyone says, what will you do if you’re the one to find him?”

“I’m the best swordsman this desert has ever seen. No one could beat me, not even you.”

I scoffed, pretending to brush off the comment, but this time his words bit deeper into my skin than any cut he’d given me while practicing. He was right. I couldn’t beat him. And I’d tried.

During our first lesson, he’d sliced three hairline slashes into each side of my neck. He’d said if he’d made them any deeper, I would have been like a fish on land, unable to breathe. Rodric called it a new technique, but he hadn’t bothered to teach it to me.

In order for the desert to accept me as its future queen, there could be no one fiercer, stronger, or better than me in a fight. I’d pulled out my sword and rushed up behind him. Just as I was about to send my blade into his back, he turned, grabbed my arm, and flipped me over.