Riders (Riders, #1)(82)

Fifteen minutes later, I’d split the skin over the first two knuckles on my right hand and picked up a collection of new bruises. Marcus had punched me above the temple. I was pretty positive I had a concussion. I’d already dry-heaved a few times, but it was Marcus’s turn now. He was bent over his knees, coughing from the gut shot I’d given him.

“So we’re clear,” I said. “If you hurt her, I’ll end you.”

He peered up at me, drawing his sleeve over his mouth. “Man, you are stupid.” He straightened. “You got the wrong idea.”

“I saw you—”

“You saw nothing.” He shook his head. “You’re wrong in the head, War.”

He had that right. My ears rang and I couldn’t stay balanced. Saliva poured into my mouth. Puke was in my immediate future. And those were only the physical symptoms.

I was losing some piece of me to Ra’om and Samrael. I was starting to self-destruct. I remembered Marcus’s question our first day there. Who’re you fighting? I was starting to figure out the answer.

Marcus watched me with his cool gray eyes. “She was talking to me about you.”

Wait. She was? “No splinters?”

“There were splinters. But there was a lot more of you.” He tipped his head toward the trail. “Move, Blake. Somebody has to make sure you don’t walk off a cliff.”

I got moving.

We didn’t say anything else on the hike back to hutquarters, but Marcus stood by and waited when I stopped to heave on the side of the trail. All three times. It was a huge step for me and Death.

Huge.

I still felt shaky when we got up there. Jode, Bastian, and Daryn were gathered at the stone circle around a fire, which had become our usual spot at the end of the day. It was only five or so, but it felt much later. The shadow of the mountain had already fallen over the clearing.

“Gideon, look at this!” Sebastian lifted a guitar in the air. “Dare got it for us!”

A guitar?

And Dare?

What?

I told him I’d be right back, then I jogged to the hut and changed into a fresh shirt, wrinkled but mostly clean, and did a quick washup before heading back outside. There were two unclaimed stones around the fire on either side of Daryn, which was perfect. Exactly where I wanted to be.

I didn’t know what my plan was. All I knew was that something had to change. And I was pretty sure that I was the something.

“You’re going to like this, Gideon,” Jode said, flashing me a wry grin. “Sebastian here would like us to form a boy band.”

Bas was bent over the guitar, tuning it. For over a week, all I’d heard was wind, fire, our weapons colliding, or our voices. By comparison the guitar sounded clear and rich, like my hearing had just gone high-def.

He looked up, grinning at me. “Think about it, G! We can be the Fjord Horsemen!”

I laughed, and then listened as the guitar story came out. While I’d gone on my recon hike, Jode and Daryn had walked down to the tourist station. Daryn had struck up a friendship with the attendant there, a woman named Isabel. As they’d left, Daryn had convinced Isabel to give us the guitar, which some tourists had left behind.

“Isabel?” I asked, glancing at Daryn. That name sounded familiar.

She nodded, and then I knew. The Seeker she’d told me about, her friend, was close by.

“The guitar’s missing a string,” Daryn said. “That’s the only downfall.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Bas said. “It’s awesome.”

“I’m glad you like it.” Daryn tugged her sleeves over her hands. “I wasn’t sure if any of you played, but I figured it didn’t matter. If you practiced a little bit every day, you could learn. Or if one of you had some experience with musical instruments from their career, or as a hobby or whatever, maybe that person could teach the others, assuming his methods of instruction weren’t totalitarian and inflexible. Or just flat-out rude. And that the other people, who might also benefit from learning to play, didn’t interfere and create additional problems by being obstinate, negative, or easily discouraged. Anyway, I thought you’d all enjoy it.”

The four of us looked at each other. We’d just been gently but thoroughly dressed down.

Bastian started plucking a tune, stumbling as he adjusted to the missing string. The thinnest string was gone, I noticed. The one that should’ve been at the bottom. But he adapted quickly and his fingers moved faster, playing a song that was like a chase, the notes running up and down and back up. We listened in silence as he made five strings work together. Work together really well to create something complete.

We got it. We heard her message loud and clear.

Bas started up on another song. I wanted to keep listening, but I had something I needed to do first. “Daryn.”

She turned sharply to me, surprise in her eyes.

“Walk with me?” I asked.

She didn’t say a word, just stood.

We took a trail that went up the mountain, instead of the more familiar one to the practice area. My heart thudded as we walked. It’d been over a week since we’d been alone and I had a ton of things I wanted to say. I tried to get it into some kind of order.

We stopped when we’d reached a smooth ledge. The sound of the guitar was quieter in the distance, but still clear.