Riders (Riders, #1)

“What’s on your bio?” Daryn asked.

“Mine?” Bas squinted up, like the answer was written in the sky. “Well, a bunch of stuff. I took ballroom dance lessons for a year. I wasn’t very good at the tango or the foxtrot but I can kill it in the waltz. I speak Spanish, obviously. But I’m good at accents in general. I have a good ear, I guess. And I can play the piano. Better than the guitar. I have freaky long fingers. I also took a course in stunt fighting, and—”

“Stop,” I said. “Did you just say stunt fighting?”

He grinned. “Yeah. I’m certified in Dramatic Combat. It’s a twelve-week class where you learn how to make things like sword fighting and punches look real. I didn’t tell you this?”

I stared at him, trying to digest this new information.

“I don’t think he believes you, Bas,” Daryn said.

He laughed. “It’s true. I have a diploma and everything.” He stopped playing the guitar. “Stop looking at me like that, Gideon. It’s for the movies. So if I ever got a part that needed me to look like I could fight, I could pull it off. This is why I didn’t tell you.”

“I’m just trying to understand. Like … you learned to play guitar for the movies, but you can actually play it. And you learned to freaking waltz, which I’m guessing you can also actually do. So what the hell happened? Why is combat the only thing you didn’t actually learn?”

“War appears to be taking this personally,” Jode said.

“Can you bloody hell blame me?”

Jode laughed. “No, dude. I can’t.”

“Maybe we could get some cameras up around here, see if it helps,” Marcus said, like a real contributing member of the conversation.

Bas grinned. “It would totally help. I crush when the cameras are rollin’.”

I nodded. “Now, that actually is true. Sebastian is to acting as the lions are to the Sahara. Top predator. Extremely capable.”

Jode and Marcus hadn’t heard about how I’d met Bas in the audition, so we told that story. Then we just kept going. We talked and listened to Sebastian play, as night fell around us. We stayed out there for hours, messing around. Finally talking. But I never lost sight of our situation.

The fire made me think of Pyro. The embers reminded me of Ra’om’s eyes. When I looked into the darkness, I imagined Alevar crouched there, huddled inside his wings. How much longer did we have?

It was past midnight when Sebastian put the guitar down. My eyes stung from the smoke and from being overtired, but the last thing I wanted to do was sleep. I kept waiting for someone to head into the hut, start the trend, but no one moved.

Our lighthearted fun was over. With the fire burning down and the shadows rising, this was the time for ghost stories or confessions.

Jode scratched his head. “Well, I’ll start,” he said. “Car wreck, for me.”

I instantly knew what this was. We all did.

“I was racing with friends,” he continued. “The sons of my father’s business associates, to be precise. Two of them whom I knew quite well. We hated one another. The road was wet, and … I lost control and struck a tree. I lost the race.” He was speaking in chopped bursts, like he wanted to get it over with. “When I woke in the hospital, I discovered this little bangle.” He lifted his left arm, his cuff shining in the dim light. “That was how it began.”

I felt like I was seeing him in a whole different light. Over the past week I’d ruled him out as a competitor, but his hesitation and fear of failing made sense now. Jode had wanted to win so badly he’d paid the ultimate price.

No one made any consoling comments. What was there to say? Sorry you died, man. Besides. We all had.

We sat and listened to the wind. We understood.

Then Daryn dug an elbow into my side.

“Ow—kay,” I said. “I guess I’ll go next.” Then I told them about RASP and my parachuting accident. As I spoke, I became conscious of Marcus. Usually he acted like he couldn’t care less what I was saying. Now he wasn’t just listening to me, he was focused.

“Was the parachute the problem?” he asked, when I’d finished.

“No. It was … just something that happened. Just a really rare set of circumstances. What’s even stranger is that it happened the exact same day my—” I caught myself, and looked at the firelit faces around me. It felt like a barrier moment. Was I going to trust these guys and tell them the truth, or not? Truth, I decided, and took a leap. “Because it happened the same day my dad died a year earlier.”

I wasn’t sure about the look Marcus gave me. Like he was seeing weakness in me. I didn’t need that. Suddenly I was worried I’d just made a bad move. Then Bas spoke, pulling my attention away.

“I drowned,” he said. “Strange, right? That it had nothing to do with food? Not what you’d expect from Famine.”

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