Nameless (10 page)

The graying healer wrapped another layer of gauze over the hole in Gryphon’s shoulder. “Make sure to drink it all. It will numb the pain and help you sleep tonight.”

Gryphon almost choked on the sour concoction when he saw Joshua. The boy sidestepped the old healer and tackled him on his Medica bed. “You’re a hero! Everyone’s talking about it!”

“When were you released from the Medica?” said Gryphon, amazed.

“Zo cleared me three days ago. I feel great!”

The image of Joshua sick and pale in his bed only ten days prior didn’t match the lively kid before him. “You shouldn’t use the healer’s name, Joshua. She’s a Nameless. You
know
that.”

Joshua took a step back and frowned, his fists balled. “Her name is Zo. She saved my life.”

How could Gryphon argue? The girl had worked a miracle. “Fine, just don’t let anyone else hear you.”

“I won’t.” He bounced up and down. “I want to know everything. They say you took down the Wolf yourself. That you dove like an eagle off a cliff. Is that true?”

“Nope.”

“Then what happened? Give me
every
detail!”

Gryphon told him the whole story. Zander’s command that Gryphon lead the second group. The blinding light that preceded the arrow. The chase. The bravery of the man at the back of the Wolf pack who turned and charged him.

“What an idiot! The Wolf was outnumbered,” said Joshua.

“I don’t think he actually planned to take us, kid. Just slow us down so his friends could escape.”

“Wow.” Joshua sat back staring off into nothing. “That might be the bravest thing I’ve ever heard.”

Gryphon nodded. “You should have seen him. No fear at all.”

Joshua blinked out of his trance. “And they call
you
the hero?”

Gryphon swatted at him but Joshua easily dodged.

“I need to tell Zo.” Joshua’s eyes went unfocused again.

“Is she impressed by bravery?” said Gryphon, wondering why he cared.

“She doesn’t believe in it. That’s why I need to tell her.”

“Naturally.” Gryphon snickered over his mug. “Isn’t she a bit old for you, kid?”

“Stop making fun. She’s sad all the time. I think something inspiring would make her happy.”

Gryphon’s shoulders rose and fell with a heavy sigh. Once Joshua set his mind on something there was no deterring him. “Don’t get too attached to this Nameless girl. It will only bring you trouble.”

Joshua jumped to his feet and bounded to the door. “I’ve got training tomorrow. Need to get some sleep.” He went to leave but stopped and turned. “Her name is
Zo
, Gryph.”

Zo couldn’t stop thinking of Gabe as she silently slipped out the door of the Nameless’ barracks. Just knowing he was somewhere inside the Gate made it hard to concentrate on her footing as she navigated the darkness. There was a good chance that at this moment he was being tortured for information. No use hoping for a better alternative.

Gabe had plenty to hide. Beyond knowing the plans and location of the Allied Camp, Gabe was one of the few people to ever be invited into the Raven settlement as an ambassador for Commander Laden. If what Zo heard in the Medica was true, Chief Barnabas would do anything to have that kind of tactical information. Yes, the Ram needed the Raven food stores, but Zo had a feeling there was more to it than that. What if the Ram really did intend to move the entire clan south? She knew the Wolves sat on the most fertile land in the region. Would the Ram try to take it from them? No one—not even Commander Laden—believed they’d have the nerve to strike so far from the Gate.

But what if they did?

Zo’s foot caught on a low branch and she stumbled to the earth, bruising her knee on a rock. She pushed her palms into the soggy ground and let her head hang forward. She welcomed the pain of her throbbing knee. The dark emotion that had long ago hijacked her rational self actually enjoyed the pain. Told her she deserved it. Even uncomfortable feeling is still … feeling.

The thick mud on her face itched like a wicked rash and she eventually climbed back to her feet. Clumps of rock-hard clay ripped away layers of Zo’s skin before they fell to the dark forest floor. Her body reeked like manure, but she couldn’t complain about the results of the mud and smelly perfume. With the exception of the Gate Master, the Ram soldiers had left her alone.

The moon glowed like a thousand torches reflecting off the white stone of the mountain as she walked to the river. This far away from the barracks she could almost imagine she was outside the Gate.

At home picking peas in the garden while Gabe romped around the yard with Tess laughing uncontrollably while riding on his shoulders.

Free.

Zo forced thoughts of Gabe away and traveled with the silence of the Wolf, keeping to the balls of her bare feet, avoiding low branches and twigs by instinct as much as practice. She reached the river near the base of the mountain in record time.

Zo pulled out one of five glass bottles from her satchel and double-checked the stopper. She hugged the bottle to her chest before carefully dropping it into the river. Her hands shook and she repeated her actions until all five were lost to the fast moving current. Five chances for the Allies to learn Gabe’s fate and discover the location and times of the next Ram excursion. Five promises to look deeper into the threat of a Ram move and to send more information soon.

Commander Laden had been very clear about the information he needed her to gather. His list was as precise as it was long: the number of battle-ready troops, supplies, weapons, coordinates for a possible Ram excursions. Anything that might help the Cause.

Zo watched the hope of her people float away, absorbed by the dark water. She was contributing to the alliance. Paying back a small fraction of the pain Ram soldiers had caused her.

The soft breeze died down, making Zo’s odor hang heavy in the stagnant air. Her stench burned her nostrils as she looked longingly at the clean rushing water. One bath wouldn’t kill her. She’d have Tess double up on her mud paint tomorrow.

Zo pulled off her woolen shirt and untied the rope holding up her too-large pants. The cold water numbed her bare skin as she stepped deeper and deeper into the mountain river. Her shivers turned violent when the water reached her shoulders. She fought against the current while she scrubbed at her skin, using her blunt nails to rake away the layers of plastered mud and grime.

Out of habit she softly hummed a washing song to calm her nerves. A song her mother had taught her before her world turned upside-down.

It was well past dark when Gryphon was finally released from the Medica. He walked the mountain trail home with Joshua chatting away under his good arm. Using his hands to tell his training story, the boy bounced up and down.

“Toban shouldn’t have beaten me in hand-to-hand. I had him in a lock,” Joshua held up his arms to demonstrate, “and was ready to demand ‘yield’ when he elbowed my bad side. Right in the button! Even after Master Cadmos instructed him not to.”

Gryphon fought a smile. “How long were you down?”

“Half a minute. Maybe twenty seconds. It doesn’t matter. He didn’t follow the rules.”

Gryphon stopped and took both of Joshua’s shoulders in his hands. “There are no rules in war, Joshua. A good fighter expects his weaknesses to be exploited and uses that foresight to his own advantage.”

A faint voice could barely be heard over the river. Gryphon put a shushing finger to his mouth. He stepped off the trail, following the sound.

“I thought you said we were going to your family home,” said Joshua, trailing behind like a spring duckling. “Your mom made food.”

Gryphon whipped around in a crouch and placed his fist to the ground. The signal for caution.

Joshua nodded, a look of anticipation in his eyes. He deftly pulled a dagger from his leg sheath and inched to Gryphon’s side with exaggerated stealth.

Gryphon sighed inwardly. Joshua’s thirst to prove himself would be the very thing that got him killed someday.

“You can put the knife away, kid.”

“What if it’s dangerous?” Joshua whispered.

Gryphon rolled his eyes and moved toward the water. The whispered singing of a shaky female voice grew louder. It was a sad, intoxicating sort of melody that wrapped its fingers around Gryphon’s heart and squeezed. He inched to the ledge of a small cliff, looking down on the river no more than fifteen feet below.

The moon turned her skin to milk, casting hard shadows along her curves as she stepped from the river onto the bank. Her hair hung like a midnight veil in an uneven line at the middle of her back.

Gryphon caught a small glimpse of her profile as she reached for her clothes. He leaned closer to the ledge, hypnotized by the moon’s generosity. This was clearly no Nameless field hand, and Ram women didn’t sing.

Joshua stumbled forward, snapping a twig in two with his awkwardly large foot. The girl stopped her washing song and glanced up to them, clutching her clothes to her chest.

“Sorry,” Joshua mouthed.

Gryphon shook his head and looked back to the girl.

She studied the trees around them while she dressed. Her body was tense, ready to flee at the first sign of danger. She looked so different from any of the Ram women he knew, yet so familiar. Her face was more square than round, her body longer and leaner than a typical Ram daughter. Graceful.

Then he saw it. A black crescent moon tattooed just below her shoulder.

Gryphon turned to Joshua. “She has the same tattoo as the Wolf I just captured.”

“Wolf!” Joshua whispered too loud.

The girl darted into the trees like a deer.

Gryphon turned predator as he jumped from his perch into a full sprint, dodging branches and bushes to catch his prey. He heard Joshua’s frustrated efforts to keep up behind him, but Gryphon couldn’t wait. This rabbit was far too quick.

The girl zigzagged through the forest. Several times Gryphon thought he’d lost her, and then he’d catch a glimpse of a ruffling white shirt in the corner of his eye and he’d correct his course. He followed her up the mountainside into a thick patch of fog. The trees blurred to white, the fog so dense he could barely see the ground as he ran. Gryphon slowed to a jog. He didn’t need a broken ankle to hinder him in his next excursion. A lame shoulder was bad enough.

He heard movement and crept toward the noise with silent steps, his eyes useless in the dense white fog surrounding. Joshua’s loud feet twenty yards away actually served as a good decoy. For once.

“Wolves never travel alone
,” Barnabas had said.

A branch snapped behind him as the girl dropped from a tree onto Gryphon’s back. She held a blade to his throat. “Show me your hands!” she said. Her voice was too calm for the situation.

Gryphon froze, his hands carefully raised in surrender. She should have bled him then and there, but for some reason she hesitated. A costly mistake.

With his hands already raised, Gryphon grabbed her by the hair and flipped her forward onto her back. She let out a cry of pain as she landed on the rocky ground. He jumped on her, pinning her arms down with his knees. He wrenched the knife from her hand and forced the tip of the blade to her delicate cheek.

The fog cleared enough for him to see the whites of her almond eyes. She didn’t beg or even so much as whimper, just stared at him with a penetrating glare.

“How did you get inside the Gate?” he snarled, unable to imagine her scaling the wall. He could feel her labored breath. The rhythm of her heart accelerated.

“Answer!” He forced the blade deeper, breaking the skin.

“I owe you nothing, soldier. Kill me if you must.” Her smooth face was eerily calm, as if ending her life would save her the trouble.

Gryphon looked up in time to see Joshua charge him with both arms outstretched. The force was enough to push him off the girl.

“Leave her alone! She didn’t do anything to you!”

Gryphon dropped his blade. His grip stayed locked around the girl’s wrist as he wrestled Joshua to the ground next to her. A regular string of quail lined up for the plucking.