Riders (Riders, #1)(90)

Flames rolled along my arms. They curled up from my ankles, drifting over my legs. I reached down and smoothed my hand on Riot’s neck, and the flames there flowed around me. I needed a second to wrap my head around that little development, but Riot tensed beneath me and surged forward with so much force that I almost pitched off the saddle.

Gripping with my legs, I drove my heels down like Daryn had told me to do, and held on for my life. I hadn’t expected him to be fast—he was built for power, not speed—but he was fast. The gravel riverbank became a gray blur beneath me, and the wind pressed against my face.

Since I had no riding technique to speak of, the saddle came up under me like a jackhammer. Cherished parts of my anatomy would never be the same, I was sure. Thankfully, I quickly realized that by shifting my weight onto my legs and slightly forward, it put me in synch with his gait. I took up the reins, tucked in like a jockey, and experienced true and profound exhilaration as we tore across the clearing.

Why had I waited so long to do this? I never wanted to stop.

I wanted to ride a circle around the world.

Then I spotted Daryn and the guys coming down the trail, and the moment was over. I scrambled to recall the riding instruction I’d been given—be gentle with Riot’s mouth, use my legs to control him—and made a total mess of things, giving him mixed-up cues and cranking the reins like a brute. I got it all wrong, but somehow Riot understood what I wanted. He slowed down, trotted right over to everybody, and came to a full stop.

Sitting up in the saddle, with Daryn and the guys watching me, I was feeling pretty big-time, but my first instinct was to play everything down. Just a regular morning, tearing around a fjord on my gigantic fiery steed.

It didn’t work. I felt a grin coming on and I couldn’t hold it back for anything. I knew I looked amazing up there, with my armor and horse. All burning. I mean, how often did you see that?

“What’s up, guys?” I said, and reached down to pat Riot’s neck.

I heard someone snicker, and I peered at them. “What?”

Marcus scratched his jaw. I could tell he was trying not to smile. “Your horse, man. It’s the way he moves.”

“It’s called knee action,” Daryn said.

“Riot’s is quite high,” Jode added. He frowned and pressed his lips together, but I could hear him sputtering.

“It’s cool, G,” Bas said. “He sort of … prances. Reminds me of those Irish river dancers. You know, the ones that—”

He couldn’t even finish. He started howling. Suddenly they were falling all over themselves.

“It’s ’cause he’s so big, you idiots,” I said. “He’s like a tank. And look at all this mud. He has to have permanent four-wheel drive.”

I shut myself up, because I was only making it worse. Riot and I had to just wait it out. But I didn’t really care. I knew we were the best.

When everyone settled down, the rest of the guys mounted up, too. Shadow materialized at Bastian’s feet, and came up with him. Through him. I watched as whirling darkness spun around his legs, then moved higher, covering his body. Bas disappeared for a second, consumed by those black ribbons, then there he was, mounted on Shadow, also in armor. Horse and rider, black from hoof to hood.

I’d seen Bas fold into Shadow a few times by then. The other guys, too. They’d also been working with their mounts every day. While Riot and I were jogging, I’d seen them riding along the banks, or in elemental form. Slashes of darkness and light, zipping through the fjords. Or in Marcus’s case, a streak of pale dust. I knew Riot and I would be able to do that as well. That at some point, I’d fold into fire with him. I couldn’t wait for that. We were a little behind, but we’d get it.

Jode’s transition was faster, happening almost instantly—a flash of brightness, then he was mounted on Lucent. Much more than Sebastian, Jode had the Hollywood look, with the white horse and the lighter-colored armor. He was the only one of us who actually resembled a good guy.

Marcus summoned Ruin last. I watched swirls of ash overtake him, watched him disappear in a pale flurry, and then re-form on Ruin’s back. He had his suit’s dark hood pulled up as he settled back into shape, casting part of his face in shadow, but it didn’t hide his smile.

Daryn stepped back, getting a little distance. “You guys look scary,” she said.

But we all knew she meant scary good.

I looked around me. It was our first time that way, the four of us mounted up.

Red, white, black, and pale.

A bona fide posse.





CHAPTER 51

“Sounds impressive,” Cordero says, dryly. “I wish I could’ve seen you that way.”

You have, I think. You have.

“And your relationship with Riot sounds really touching.”

As I watch her, I can’t help but wonder. Does she have any idea how much I didn’t say just now? Can she tell?

My relationship with Riot isn’t touching.

Riot changed me.

I told him things I’ve never said to anyone.

I told him about my dad.

I remember it—walking along the river’s edge one afternoon, his reflection flickering in the water. Me, talking. Putting everything I’d been carrying around for a year into words. All the anger I felt for sitting in a truck doing nothing, when I could’ve been saving my dad’s life.