Seeker (Riders #2)(34)

Daryn has dismounted. The orb is in her hand, solid again. Still bright, but fading. "Everyone okay?" she asks.

"Not really," Maia says. She slides off her saddle, staggers a few feet, and vomits.

"Welcome to the Rift," Low mutters.

I pull in a deep breath. We've left behind the glare of the desert for forest darkness. The air smells leafy, damp and cool. The long branches almost block out the sky-a purple sky, like fading dusk.

It's hard to believe I'm here. Where Bas has been for the better part of eight months.



       
         
       
        

"Gideon, I think you're bleeding," Ben says, grimacing like injuries don't compute in his mind.

"Just a cut." I wipe my mouth. "I'm fine."

Jode lowers his bow. Then he frowns at it. "Gideon, call away your sword."

I do it.

Try to.

"Gideon?" Cordero says.

"Nope." My connection is down. My sword is still right in my hand.

We all look at Marcus, but we know it'll be no different. He lifts the scythe off his shoulder and gives it a sweeping turn in the air-his favorite way of calling it forth and sending it back-but, like the bow and sword, the scythe goes nowhere. His mare, Ruin, starts to prance anxiously beneath him. "Nothing." Marcus sends me a pissed-off look. "We can't fold, either."

I reach for Riot anyway, asking him to go to fire. It's like we're in the dark, no way of finding each other. Riot bobs his head up and down, about as happy about this as I am.

This isn't good, Gideon. I can't protect you if we can't fold.

I rest my hand on his withers. "We're good, big guy. All good."

If our abilities as horsemen are gone, the only good news is we won't have to worry about my anger contagion in here. Marcus and Jode, too. Their effect on others would also be gone. Not that either of them struggle as much as I do. They're both way more adept at controlling fear and will than I am at controlling anger.

The only thing left to verify is whether we're still capable of rapid healing, but the cut inside my lip will answer that soon enough.

"GPS doesn't work," Low says. "Neither does my compass or my watch."

"Digital?" Cordero asks.

"Negative, it's windup. Both hands have stopped moving."

Everyone looks at me, and my gut sinks. I can't get my prosthetic to change gestures. It's stuck in a half-open position like a metal mannequin hand. But at least it came through with me. I'd worried it wouldn't. "Only one of my hands stopped moving," I say, to be hilarious.

"I told you about this," Daryn says to Cordero. "I told you my phone didn't work before."

"As we've verified." She looks at Suarez. "We'll have to adjust."

Lots of setbacks, but we do adjust. We're prepared.

Cordero takes the orb from Daryn to return it to the lockbox. "It's getting worse. The damage is more severe," she says, pausing to study it in her hand. There's a note of actual concern in her voice.

"Yes, it is. Take good care of it," Daryn says. "And don't lose any more pieces." 

Marcus catches my eye and smiles.

We immediately break into two groups, as planned.

Cordero, Ben, Low, Suarez, and Maia will dig in here at our entry-point location. The rest of us will conduct the search. Jode will keep track of time using our riding pace. Marcus will mark the earth with his scythe, indicating our direction. All four of us will look for Bas.

"Let's bring him home," I say, and we ride.





CHAPTER 13

DARYN

We fall into a formation.

Jode in the lead, followed by Gideon, then me, and finally Marcus.

The plan is to search for forty minutes, then retrace back to the B Team, at which point we'll "assess," which I'm pretty sure means "Cordero decides what to do next."

We're looking for Sebastian but we know there are threats in the Rift, like the Harrows and probably Samrael, too. Which is why I didn't want all these people to be here, risking their lives, but that ship has sailed.

As we head away from the B Team, the trees close in, dampening sounds. Maia's voice vanishes quickly behind us.

I'm struck by an unsettling thought: We're no more than mice crawling under the folds of a cloak. Small and blind.

And scared.

It doesn't feel right leaving the others. And even my group feels wrong, like we're together but not together. It's no time for doubt, though.

"These trees," Gideon says, with the same awe I felt when I first saw them. The branches look like broken limbs, the knots like yawning faces.

"They look like they're going to come alive," Jode says.