Clanless (7 page)

Zo put up a hand. “Great job, Tess. You don’t need to go on.”

Tess’ liabilities were glaringly obvious. She was slow and weak, without any real ability to defend herself.

Eva and Joshua took turns using the strengths and weaknesses they had all shared and devised a plan. Eva unstrapped the knife around her calf and fastened the small sheath to Tess’s belt. “When I was your age, I already had three years of training with weighted weapons. Your lessons will begin tomorrow.”

Zo thought to protest, but given the circumstances, it made sense to teach Tess everything possible to defend herself if she got in a bind. And who better to learn from than a Ram who was bred to kill from the time she could walk?

They ate their meal and doused the fire. Even though the blaze would have helped them stay warm and keep animals at bay, it wasn’t worth the risk of exposing their location to Clanless and, more likely, Ram scouts. Just as the last wisps of smoke carried on the night breeze and the coals of the fire turned to a weak, flicking glow, a bird called not far away.

Eva sat up then Joshua followed her lead, like deer lifting their heads to listen for a predator. Zo clutched her knife to her chest. She knew that call. Commander Laden taught it to her as part of her training. She let out a small “caw” sound, mimicking the call.

Both Eva and Joshua whipped around and stared at Zo. She could imagine their questions. They weren’t used to working with other clans. Where there is hate there is also fear.

Out of the darkness, two figures stepped from the trees into their camp.

Two days traveling the Raven rope bridges was enough to make Gryphon miss even Zander’s company.

“I think I’d like to reconsider your offer to turn back,” Gryphon said to the Raven leader. Gryphon had learned the multi-feathered leader was called Craw. He also had learned Craw was oddly friendly when he wasn’t ordering his men to take part in the merriment of Gryphon’s death.

“You’ve come far enough now that I’d have to kill you if you tried to leave. You’ve seen too much.”

“Please do.” Gryphon groaned. His hands were filled with splintered wood and rubbed raw from sliding along the spun ropes. He’d traded the comfort of his hands for peace of mind. But now, even the muscles in his shoulders and neck ached from constantly tensing them.

It was no wonder his clan hadn’t discovered the location of the Raven until now. Ram mess units had likely run right under these bridges without ever realizing they existed high above the forest floor. The bridges were obviously well maintained. The railings surrounding each platform were carved with symbols Gryphon had never seen before, as well as images of birdmen and women in various settings—planting grain, talking to trees, bending in prayer.

Gryphon made the mistake of looking down again. He cursed under his breath as the ground swayed, then jumped up to meet him. “What will you do after all this?” Gryphon said to Gabe. He tried to keep his attention trained on the back of Gabe’s head instead of the distant ground.

Gabe shrugged. “I’ll return to the Allies, make sure Tess is cared for, and fight your bloody clan until I either get a spear through my heart or die an old man. Whichever comes first.”

Gryphon nodded even though Gabe couldn’t see him. Wolves and Raven and even the brutish Kodiak could work together and live in relative peace, but never the Ram. The thought made Gryphon slow his wobbly pace. Was this entire journey pointless? Even if they did evacuate the Raven in time, weren’t they just putting off the inevitable? The Ram would eventually wipe out all the clans in the region. Even the Allies and the valley-dwelling Wolves. Was there really a point in resisting them?

Zo’s death, above all else, proved there wasn’t.

“You’ve been quiet, Gabe,” said Gryphon. He assumed it was because of Zo. As painful as it was to talk about her, Gryphon longed to hear someone else say her name. To make her real, if only in memory.

“You miss her,” said Gryphon. “I’ll listen.”

But Gabe kept walking, not bothering to so much as shrug a shoulder. It was as if they were strangers again and Zo—their common ground—had never existed.

Zo had had a foolish temper that led to poor decisions, not to mention she was supposed to be Gryphon’s enemy. But beneath it all, she was the most human person he’d ever met. Life without her would be completely deficient. Didn’t Gabe—Zo’s childhood friend—feel that?

Gryphon dropped the subject. As much as he wanted to talk about Zo, it was probably too painful for Gabe. Gryphon had no choice but to respect Gabe’s need for silence and give him time.

The crash of ocean waves spurred the Raven forward at an increased pace. Through the thick branches, Gryphon made out an endless expanse of blue, a sight he’d grown used to while sitting atop the sheer cliff that marked the edge of Ram’s Gate.

He used to study the waves, pondering his goal to restore his family’s honor, imagining what it would feel like to command his own mess. Now he snorted at his own foolishness. What was pride without honor, and what was honor without a clear conscience? As much as he loved his people, he could not serve them now or ever again. His chest tightened at the thought.
I’m so sorry, Mother.

The foliage opened as they crossed the final bridge leading to a platform large enough to accommodate the entire flock of Raven warriors as well as Gryphon and Gabe. Gryphon glanced over the edge of the platform. The ocean crashed into the rocky ravine hundreds of yards below, the sound ricocheted off the rocks like dozens of voices fighting to be heard.

Not fifty yards beyond the cliff was a forested island that sat like a gigantic pillar that stood apart from the mainland, surrounded completely by cliffs and, eventually, sea. The towering walls of the island were sheer and plateaued even higher than the canopy platform upon which they stood. Were Gryphon standing on the ground, he’d have to crane his neck to see it.

How could anyone reach such a place?

Craw, with his feathered necklace catching the breeze and whipping about his painted face, cupped both hands to his mouth and crowed at the large island. The high screeching sounded anything but human.

“What is he … ?”

Gabe silenced Gryphon with a look and stepped next to Craw. Like the Raven, he cupped his hands to his mouth and arched his back a little as if to throw the howl that poured from his lips.

Craw walked over to Gryphon, resting his hand on the Ram’s shoulder. “The horn has never blown from this platform. If we want any chance of delivering your message, it’s best to keep it that way.”

Now that his people knew the location of the Raven Nest, in only a matter of days, Ram horns carried around the necks of every mess leader Barnabas sent would blare from this platform. A thrilling voice of strength to the ears of Ram warriors, but terrifying to everyone else.

The Raven parted from the trunk of the tree to form a V formation. Gryphon nudged Gabe’s shoulder, a question burning on his tongue. But he didn’t have to wait for long. An arrow whistled through the air and lodged with a quiet thud into the trunk of the tree, not far from Gryphon’s head.

Gryphon instinctively reached for his shield, but the Raven had taken that and every other weapon from him the day they surrounded him in the meadow. A few of the Raven shared smiles.

“With the wind, it might have hit any one of you,” Gryphon grumbled. He knew the Raven were legendary bowman, but even they couldn’t predict a gust of wind. Another whistle cut the air and this time Gryphon dropped to the ground, covering his head with both arms. The arrow
thupped
into the tree, inches from the first.

Gryphon cursed and climbed to his feet. Even if it meant taking an arrow through the neck, he would not move an inch at the next whistling sound. For the sake of his pride, if not his rear end.

But the V formation broke, and two men rushed to the arrows, pulling them with some effort from the tree. A thin, shimmering string dangled from each arrow’s shaft, so slight Gryphon might not have noticed it if it didn’t catch the faint light of the overcast sky.

Gabe broke his long silence with arms crossed over his chest, his cape dancing in the breeze. “Lion’s Silk.” He nodded toward the men, who’d formed two lines, and, with gloved hands, heaved on the thread-like material. “As light as a spider’s web but strong as the mountain lions that roam the region.”

“What is it made from?” Gryphon collected the arrow with silk from the ground as the Raven still pulled against an invisible weight. The string was cold to the touch and seemed to be made of hair-thin strands of metal. But it couldn’t be metal, because as Gryphon tried to break the Lion’s Silk, the woven strands held strong. “Magic?” Gryphon asked, still trying to break the strands. He’d heard about the Raven and their mystical practices.

“Resourcefulness,” corrected Gabe.

For some reason, Gabe never looked Gryphon in the eye anymore—not since they escaped the Gate together. Was it possible that Gabe blamed him for what happened to Zo? The injustice of the thought made Gryphon want to break the Wolf’s nose.

Across the gap, a massive rope ladder with boards stacked along the frame lifted off the face of the island wall, pulled higher and higher as the Raven heaved on the Lion’s Silk. It had to be more than fifty yards in length, with no hand railings to help support the flimsy frame. When the rope ladder stretched horizontally between the island and the tree platform, the Raven tied off the silk around a thick branch.

Without preamble, the feathered men walked, one by one, across the gaping divide to the island. The ladder gradually slanted upward to the island. Since there were no railings, they held their arms out wide for balance as they crossed the treacherous catwalk hundreds of yards above the ocean. The fall would kill them; there was no question. But they were graceful in their steps—so confident that Gryphon had to wonder if they thought, like their namesake, they could fly to the island.

Craw slapped Gryphon on the shoulder, startling him. “I hope you’re ready, little lamb. It’s your turn.”

Two strangers stepped from the shadows. It was just light enough to see the feather necklaces and the paint smeared on their already dark skin. They kept a safe distance from Zo and the others, holding up their hands to show they held no weapons.

“We saw the smoke of your fire,” said a man whose face was cast in shadow.

The young woman at his side stepped forward. Her skin was the same warm tone as her companion’s. Her eyes slanted just enough to make her look exotic. “We’re tired from traveling and hoped you’d have news of the clans.”

Zo jumped in, before Joshua or Eva spoke and gave away their Ram accents. “Who are you?” It was customary for the intruder to make the first introductions.

The two figures took a couple of steps forward to let the lingering light of the fire embers touch their faces. The man was smaller than the Ram and Wolves, but his lean form was still potentially dangerous. His dark eyes swept over the camp and settled on Zo. His head was shaved at the sides, leaving a stripe of black hair down the center. The woman at his side let her hands hang casually from the strap of her pack. Though she was even smaller, and her lips fuller, the resemblance between the two was unmistakable.

“I am Talon and this is my twin sister, Raca. We are traveling home to the Raven after a long journey south.”

Zo wondered if they came from the Allied Camp but didn’t want to reveal too much about her knowledge of Commander Laden and the Allies. Enemies of the cause would kill for that kind of information—especially the Ram.

The Raven girl called Raca hitched up her pack and smiled. “We usually avoid smoking fires, but I made Talon stop when I saw your group. It isn’t every day you find other women outside of the protection of a clan.”

Talon took another step forward. “We mostly just wanted to make sure you were all right.”

Zo looked to Eva, who shook her head from right to left. “No,” she mouthed, while keeping a firm hold on both of her knives. Joshua was more relaxed, looking to Zo for his cue to attack. His confidence in her was terrifying. No matter their talks of assets and liabilities; in that moment it was clear that they all saw her as their leader. A poor decision.