Riders (Riders, #1)(79)

“Breathe, Ellis. Relax,” I said. I took his wrist, keeping it steady, and took a close look at the weapon.

The bow was radiant white, on the verge of being hard to look at directly. In construction it was long and tapered, and looked balanced and light. The bowstring was so thin at points that it disappeared the way spiderwebs did in sunlight. It was the prettiest weapon out of all of them, no question. I thought of my sister, who had a real eye for seeing beauty. Anna would have liked that bow.

I didn’t see any arrows but I had a gut feeling.

“Point it ten feet away,” I said, “right at the ground and draw back on the string—slowly.”

“Ground,” Jode repeated as he turned the weapon down. “Draw.” The bowstring brightened as soon as his fingers touched it. He glanced at me, like if this goes wrong it’s on you; then he pushed out a breath and pulled the string back.

At roughly half draw, there was a flash of brightness and the arrow appeared. Slender. Luminous. No fletching. Just a streamlined bolt of lightning.

Sebastian started hooting and slapping Jode on the back. I couldn’t keep a grin off my face, either. A complete set now, the bow and arrow were even more impressive. And here was a weapon that actually made sense. That resembled a little bit, sorta-kinda, the weapons I knew.

“About time,” Marcus said as he and Daryn walked up.

“What now?” Jode asked.

“What do you think?” I yelled. I couldn’t contain my excitement. “Let’s shoot something!”

We hiked downriver. I wanted to find a closed environment, minimizing the margin for causing damage. A shooting range, essentially. What I found was a saddle between two hills that would do the trick.

I made everyone stay put on the eastern slope while I jogged down and then back up the scree slope on the other hill. Along the way, I picked up a branch about as thick around as a baseball bat, but twice as long. I wedged it into the loose rocks, piling more at the base to keep it upright. Then I took a step back and congratulated myself. Good target. We were almost set.

Turning, I looked at everyone on the other slope, trying to eyeball the distance. Tomorrow I’d bring the radios and use the GPS to get exact distances, but it looked to be about 120 meters or so.

“Now?” Jode yelled. A flash of white appeared in his hands.

“No!” I scrambled up the hill like a mountain goat on fire.

Then I heard them laughing.

“Assholes,” I muttered. But something inside me loosened up a little. If they were messing with me, it meant they were doing something together. It was a good sign.

When I got back over to them, I found them deep in discussion about the proper archer’s stance.

“I think I’m ready,” Jode said.

He looked overextended and stiff, like he should be planted in a fountain, spurting water from his mouth, but I let it go. He’d gotten mentally prepared and he didn’t look like he was going to injure himself. I’d get my shot at coaching him later.

“Okay, Robin Hood.” I stepped back with Bas, Marcus, and Daryn. “Let it rip.”

No time passed between the moment he released the arrow, and the eruption on the other hill. It happened in an instant.

An explosion cracked into the air, like an entire forest of trees splitting in half. My chest bucked at the pressure. Rocks flew apart.

Then, the aftermath—a dusty cloud lifting up, to the sound of a small avalanche rumbling down the hillside.

We practically killed ourselves rushing over there. The branch I’d set up was nonexistent. Pulverized. In its place we found a small crater about three feet wide and two deep, blackened at the center, surrounded by fine gray ash around the edges.

Serious explosive power.

“Incredible,” Sebastian said.

I had to agree. It sure as hell beat a sword.

With everyone armed up, we moved into actual training. I went over basic safe-handling guidelines. Don’t draw a weapon unless you plan to use it. Be aware of your surroundings at all times. Never fire without a target in mind. Then I broke us into two groups based on our weapons—aerial and hand-to-hand. It was the right thing to do from a tactical standpoint, but that left me with Marcus as my training partner, so. The potential for problems was high.

Jode and Bastian stayed behind to practice at our new firing range, Daryn staying with them, while Marcus and I headed back to the grass clearing. He brought up the scythe, I called up the sword, and we got started—using the flat of the blade and the base of the staff because we didn’t want to kill each other. Actually, that’s inaccurate. We did want to kill each other, but we avoided the business end of our weapons and proceeded to safely beat each other down. What we did in no way resembled sparring. The level of intensity went way beyond that. We took turns having the last say—him winning, then me—but it was pretty much always a dead heat.

Late that afternoon, with both of us covered in sweat and fresh bruises, he backed me up to the river. I stepped into water that was pure glacier melt. Water so cold it burned. I made a move to get around him and my foot landed right into a depression. Next thing I knew I was ass-planted, water up to my chest, an eighteen-inch blade a few centimeters away from my nose.

“Who’re you fighting?” Marcus yelled.

“What are you talking about?” I yelled back. The cold pierced deep into my muscles. I’d only been in a few seconds, but I was already shivering badly.