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Page 20


  Just as Zo’s attacker lunged—his weapon arm raised above his head to kill—large Kodiak arms wrapped around his chest.

  Ikatou growled, pulling the Clanless man away from Zo. The wild man stabbed at the air in front of her face. Zo rolled and ducked behind Boar’s corpse. She hid for two breaths before doubling her grip on Boar’s knife and peeking up over the body.

  The Clanless attacker lay motionless on the ground with Ikatou standing over him, panting. Behind Ikatou, men cried out in agony as the Kodiak engaged Boar’s inner circle.

  “Get out of here,” Ikatou pointed toward the trees then ran back to join in the fight.

  Zo, still clutching the knife, climbed to her feet. She retrieved her medical kit and stumbled backward, unwilling to turn her back to the slaughter.

  Even though it was the last thing she wanted to see, even though these images would haunt her for the rest of her life, she couldn’t look away. This minor massacre was her doing, and she needed to witness it, to claim it and carry the burden of her actions.

  The last two fighters dropped to their knees, each clutching their throats. One fell forward, onto his face. The last man, Zo’s final victim, looked beyond the Kodiak surrounding him and met Zo’s gaze. He might have begged if he had any command of his lungs and throat. Instead, he stared until his eyes rolled up into his head and he too collapsed into the mud and gore surrounding them.

  Zo tried to swallow but gagged. She couldn’t stay there, not a moment longer. She stepped over Boar’s dead body and sprinted into the cover of the forest. She tripped and fell on a dead branch, cutting a line of skin along her forearm. She stayed on the ground and watched the blood seep to the surface of her skin, shocked by what she’d done. She’d never killed a man before, let alone ten.

  Ikatou, bruised and bloodied, stomped toward Zo, his chest heaving. “My portion of our agreement is complete,” he said. “It’s time to fulfill your promise of a blood oath.”

  Chapter 25

  Three fires smoked, masking some of the stench of dead bodies scattered around them. Ten men. Clanless. “Check the forest. She might be nearby. Look for tracks. Whoever killed these men has Zo.” Gryphon bent down next to a man matching Stone’s description of Boar.

  Was it possible?

  Gryphon held his sleeve to his nose and circled the camp to look for clues that might help him find Zo. It seemed impossible that he could come so close to finding her only to have her slip through his fingers again.

  Something crunched under his foot. Glass. He reached down and picked up a shard of what had been a glass vial. He’d seen something similar in Zo’s medical kit. Unthinking, he brought the broken glass to his lips and closed his eyes, imagining Zo here now.

  He dropped the shard and realized his lips tingled with numbness, a residue from the glass.

  Gryphon went back to Boar’s body and, fighting the rising nausea in his stomach, bent down to smell near Boar’s mouth.

  He gagged and stumbled over to the river to clear the rancid smell from his head. Poison.

  Joshua knelt beside him at the river’s edge. “I think I found a new set of tracks.”

  Gryphon dipped his hands into the river and splashed water on his face. It was cold and shocking enough to command his thoughts to plot their next move.

  “She fought back, kid.” He gestured to the men lying dead in the rocky soil. “She poisoned Boar. I found one of her vials.”

  “But all that blood. Those other men didn’t die from poison.”

  Gryphon had to agree with the boy’s logic, even though it forced him to admit that someone must have killed those men, and, judging by the gore, it most definitely wasn’t Zo. She wasn’t fond of killing or watching others fight. Gryphon remembered the first day he’d met her. She had been forced by Gate Master Leon to watch a prize fight and afterward vomited in an abandoned alleyway.

  It wasn’t hard to confirm Joshua’s suspicion that the victors of this small massacre left as a group. It seemed the men gathered out in the forest, away from where the fight took place. Gryphon dropped to his hands and knees and pressed his fingers into a set of tracks. The ground was damp here and the impressions easy to read, the walls of the track intact. A fresh trail.

  “What if they did something to her when they found out she poisoned Boar? What if she’s in trouble? What if—”

  “Slow down, Joshua.” Gryphon rested a hand on his shoulder. “Zo has been in trouble since the moment I met her. She’ll get out of this. She’ll find a way to survive.” She had to, for Joshua’s sake as much as his own.

  How could one person have such a powerful impact on them in such a short amount of time? As a warrior, it was tactical to explore every outcome of a mission. To have a back-up plan in case things went south.

  But Gryphon couldn’t fathom going back to believing Zo was gone. He couldn’t lose her, not again. He still couldn’t believe a series of rational decisions had led him to this place in the mud, that he’d allowed himself to grow attached to a Wolf even after discovering she was an enemy spy. It was absolutely insane, but it felt as right as holding a spear in his hands. Natural. Like maybe he was born to care for her.

  He hitched up his pack and ruffled Joshua’s flaming hair. “Let’s move.”

  Blood dried in long stripes down the length of Zo’s arm as she hiked alongside Ikatou, the group’s new leader. She didn’t have the will to even attempt to heal herself. She didn’t deserve it after causing the deaths of all of those men. Yes, they meant to hand her over to Barnabas. Yes, they were the foulest form of human life, but that didn’t matter.

  She’d killed them.

  Her mother would never have used knowledge that was meant for the good of others to cause harm. To take life instead of preserving it. But she wasn’t her mother, and maybe in the face of saving so many others, that was all right.

  Stretched beyond physical and emotional limits, her feet barely lifted off the ground as she pushed forward. Were it not for her desire to see Joshua and Tess, she would have sat down right in the middle of the trail and slept.

  The group came across three giant boulders, each standing nearly twenty feet high, as though a portion of the mountainside broke free and shattered to form a tight circle of stone with one narrow entrance. Without ceremony or words exchanged, the quiet men stocked the circular shelter with enough wood to last them through the night.

  To Zo’s amazement, they also collected rocks.

  Zo leaned against a rock wall and melted down into a sitting position. She was tired of walking and hungry from missing her morning meal. Too exhausted even to allow herself to worry about Ikatou’s plans for a blood oath. She assumed it was just like it sounded. Maybe she’d cut her hand, and he’d do the same, and then they’d shake and call it done.

  The Kodiak men didn’t pay her any attention as they hefted rocks—some as large as Zo’s head—to the center of the rudimentary open-air cave. When the pile rose several feet off the ground, they built a fire to block the only entrance. The confinement for a Wolf like Zo, who thrived in open spaces and vast farmland, made her anxious. She hugged her elbows and pressed more firmly against the wall.

  The Clanless Kodiak murmured to each other in a strange dialect as they positioned themselves in a circle around the pile of stones. When everyone was in place, with legs crossed and hands resting open on knees, they all inhaled in unison through their noses. Their eyes closed. Their faces and chests lifted to a sky that threatened yet another spring rain.

  The Kodiak held that position, and their breaths, for several moments. When they finally, on some unspoken cue, freed the captive air from their lungs, Zo realized she too had held her breath. She exhaled.

  Then the shouting began.

  Every man in the circle yelled at once. Their voices bounced off the stone columns surrounding them, fighting for dominance. It was impossible to make out more than a few words scattered in the cacophony of voices. Rather than b
other with interpreting the words, Zo focused on the strain of their voices. They spoke of anger, loss, determination, and grief.

  Over time she made easier work of interpreting the individual shouts. Some were angry she had killed Boar when he was their ticket into Ram’s Gate and their only hope for seeing their families again. Some wanted to turn back and scale the walls and fight Barnabas even though it would ensure their death. Others argued that Ikatou was right in trusting the healer. They wanted to travel to the Allied Camp to see if there was really a force strong enough to free their families.

  Zo pressed her hands over her ears as the voices grew louder and louder. Maybe they believed the loudest voice was the most correct. Or maybe they had lost their minds. What if they turned their anger onto her? How would she even begin to defend herself against so many men and so much rage?

  Then as quickly as the shouting started, it stopped. The men in the circle, with chests pumping up and down and nostrils flared, took turns looking every man in the eye. The process was slow but Zo sensed its importance.

  “We see each other,” said Ikatou when they finished. “Our course is decided.”

  The men grunted as they climbed to their feet and each took several steps back. “Healer,” said Ikatou. “It’s time to seal our agreement.” He beckoned Zo to stand with him next to the pile of stones.

  The Blood Oath. Spears of cold fear stretched through her fingers and numbed her toes as she used the rock wall she’d been resting against to help gain her feet. Couldn’t she and Ikatou do this privately? Couldn’t he be convinced that she would keep her promise to help the Nameless inside Ram’s Gate escape their slavery without some barbaric ritual?

  Zo slipped past one of the Kodiak and approached the pile of rocks. Her legs seemed detached from her body, like she might have floated the whole way to Ikatou’s side.

  He spoke loud enough for his voice to bounce off the walls, but gave his full attention and energy to Zo. “We agreed to help you escape. In exchange, you agreed to a take us to your commander and help us free our families. You have sworn it in words, but now you will swear it in blood.”

  Could Zo even make this promise? What if Commander Laden didn’t defeat the Ram? Was she willing to bet her life that the Allies could defeat the undefeatable enemy? She hoped they could, but was it even possible? She’d been inside the Gate and witnessed with her own eyes the grueling training and the seemingly countless warriors—the grit of a society determined to defend its dominance in the region.

  But Ikatou had made her a deal when she went searching for the monkshood. She’d sworn she would help him and agreed to the seal it in blood—whatever that meant. He’d kept his promise and now she would have to keep hers.

  Ikatou removed a leather bundle from his pack and set it reverently into the open hands of another Kodiak. He unwrapped the leather, one fold at a time to reveal a beautiful curved knife. Zo had never seen a blade like it before. The metal didn’t look like metal at all. It wasn’t until Ikatou lifted it and tucked the narrow handle between two fingers that she realized what it was.

  A bear claw. A massive bear claw secured to an intricately engraved stone handle. Ikatou raised the claw to the back of his hand, drawing a straight line from knuckle to wrist without breaking skin. “I will mark the back of your hands so with every action your promise is remembered.”

  Zo’s tongue felt tacky against the roof of her mouth as she lifted her shaking hands over the fire.

  “Repeat after me,” said Ikatou, taking hold of one of her hands. “I swear to do all that was promised in my own blood.”

  Zo repeated the oath and Ikatou dragged the claw across her skin. Zo gasped in pain as the claw cut and tore a jagged line. When Ikatou finished, he turned her hand over so blood dripped down on the pile of stones.

  “I do willingly tie my life and blood to the task of freeing the Nameless,” said Ikatou.

  The words were even more terrifying than the claw. Still, she said them, and the second cut was made.

  Zo staggered to one knee but held both hands out, allowing the stones to catch her blood.

  “This seals our pact, Healer. We are allies until the day you break it.”

  Chapter 26

  The tracks led south, away from the Gate. At first Gryphon thought the Clanless altered their course, hoping to approach Ram’s Gate from a different angle, but now the truth was as clear as it was confusing. They hiked through the very forest from which they just came. Which also meant walking toward Zander and his mess brothers.

  As a trained predator, Gryphon had little experience as prey. It might have been the excessive quiet or the thick clouds gathering overhead, but there was something strange about the woods as he led Joshua up the steep, graded mountainside. Even the trees seemed watchful today.

  Or maybe it was just the hope of finally seeing Zo.

  The shadows of the forest stretched long as night descended. Tracking was impossible without light. If they didn’t find her soon, they’d have to make camp and begin again tomorrow. Gryphon couldn’t stop thinking about the men that now had Zo. Without Boar and his motivation to sell her to the Ram, what would keep them from harming her? Yes, they were heading south, away from the Ram, but that didn’t mean she was safe. He’d heard too many stories about the wild Clanless that roamed these mountains.

  “We have to find her tonight, kid.” Something terrible was coming. He felt it.

  Joshua, who had been silent ever since finding the massacre by the river, nodded. “There isn’t much daylight.” His hair was more copper than fire in the low light. He sagged under the weight of his pack, but never complained.

  In the distance, a new noise buzzed higher on the mountain. The inhuman sound reminded Gryphon of the steady roll and crash of the ocean against the cliffs on the western edge of Ram’s Gate, a sustained roar that barely breathed.

  “What is it?” asked Joshua.

  Gryphon answered him with a raised hand, signaling him to silence.

  They stopped walking and just listened until, after several minutes, the sound died to nothing.

  Joshua said, “Do you think … ?”

  Gryphon redoubled his grip on his spear and hiked his pack higher on his shoulders. “Run with me, Joshua.”

  If Gryphon and Joshua had heard the sound, that meant Zander had likely heard it too and would be drawn toward it. They raced through the trees up the mountainside, using the sparse light until there was no light at all. Gryphon’s eyes adjusted enough to make out the shapes of rocks and trees, but he and Joshua stumbled often.

  “How do you know we’re going the right way?” grunted Joshua as he struggled to pull himself up over a rocky shelf. The ground grew so steep they spent as much time climbing as they did hiking.

  The boy gave voice to Gryphon’s own concerns. “I don’t. It just feels right.” Only a fool traveled blindly in the night; he’d lectured the point to Joshua countless times. But Joshua didn’t balk or complain. He simply nodded as if what Gryphon said made perfect sense. “You’ll find her, Gryph. I know you will.”

  Gryphon welcomed Joshua’s faith, but it did little to ease his rising panic. If he was wrong, they’d have a very difficult time retracing their steps to pick up on Zo’s trail. Valuable time would be lost—time Zo might not have.

  “I think I smell … ” Joshua lifted his nose to the sky and sniffed the air like a hunting dog, “fire.”

  Gryphon smelled it too. The air was thick with moisture from another impending spring storm, the night peaceful with little wind, which meant the fire had to be close. “It could be Zander and the mess unit,” Gryphon warned as he and Joshua followed the smell of campfire. “We can’t be too careful right now, kid.”

  They crested yet another climb and froze.

  Not fifty feet away, pushed up against the rocky mountainside, orange and red flames licked the wood of a campfire. Surrounding the fire were tall pillars of rock; each stretched twice t
he height of a man. It was too dark to make out the black forms lying on the ground but Gryphon imagined one of those forms as Zo.

  “With me,” he whispered to Joshua. Adrenaline exploded within him. This was it. She was here. She was alive. He just knew it.

  Together they crept toward the sleeping camp, sticking to the shadows outside the light of the fire. Gryphon’s whole body yearned to sprint, but they kept every movement painfully slow. Nothing, not even a breeze, covered their careful steps. Only the subtle crack of the fire and the pounding rhythm of Gryphon’s heart beating in his ears, and Joshua’s heavy breathing.

  Someone from the camp would be standing watch. If he could somehow take out the watchman without alerting the rest, they might have a chance of escaping. He could throw his spear, but a man could still scream with a spear in his gut.

  Gryphon scanned the black trees for any sign of Zander and his mess. Every moment wasted could mean the difference between leaving with Zo and getting all three of them killed.

  He touched his fist to the ground, calling halt. “Do you still have your sling?” he half mouthed, half whispered.

  Joshua nodded, a thin smile spread across his face. He cupped his hand to Gryphon’s ear to block the sound. “You want me to take out the watchman without waking the others.”

  This is why Joshua was so valuable to Gryphon. They’d worked and trained together long enough that the kid seemed to read his very thoughts. “You sure you can knock him out with that little thing?” Gryphon said.

  Any other time Joshua would have scoffed at Gryphon’s request and pranced up to his target like a peacock. But this was Zo’s life hanging in the balance. He sat down on the muddy ground, his chest still pumping from the climb. “What if I miss?” He pressed his palms into his forehead.