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

  Chapter 6

  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.
r />   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.

  Zo had no other choice but to follow her gut instinct. If these people were Raven then they needed to know about the Ram’s plans to attack their clan. “You are welcome at our fire.”

  Talon and Raca relaxed and walked over to their circle.

  “Tell me,” said Talon in his slow-paced Raven accent, “how do two young women, a boy, and a child find themselves outside of clan protection only a day’s journey from Ram’s Gate?”

  Eva waved her knife in front of Talon’s nose. “This is our fire, Bird. You have no business asking questions.”

  At hearing Eva’s harsh Ram words, Talon immediately drew his own blade, with Raca and Joshua following suit.

  Zo’s hands shot out to calm the circle. “Enough. Eva, put that away. Joshua.”

  One by one, the circle rested their weapons in their laps, though none went so far as to sheath them.

  “You’re a Ram,” said Raca to Eva. “I’ve never met a Ram woman before. For some reason, I always imagined they grew beards and had thighs the size of tree trunks. You’re actually kind of pretty.”

  “A compliment? Charming.” Eva twisted the knife in her hand.

  Joshua snorted, and the dying coals of the fire crackled.

  Talon studied Zo. “We don’t mean to be rude, Ram. It’s not every day you see a pair of Ram and a pair of Wolves enjoying the same fire.”

  Joshua said, “How did you know that Zo was a—”

  “Wolf?” finished Talon. “Well, look at her. Long neck, elegant lines, the feminine curve of her jaw. It’s easy to spot.”

  “You can stop staring,” said Joshua in a hard tone at odds with his usual affable nature. “She is not yours to look at.”

  “Joshua!” The last thing Zo needed was Joshua picking a fight with this Raven.

  “No, he’s right.” Talon rubbed the back of his neck and looked up at the deepening blue of the night sky. “I didn’t mean to stare.” He glanced back at her, and one side of his lips curled into a half smile. “You’re very pretty.” He cleared his throat. “And that is why I’m concerned about you all. I doubt you’ll make it to the Wolves alive, if that’s where you’re headed.”

  “We aren’t traveling all the way to the Valley of Wolves,” said Zo. “We’re tracking a group of Nameless. They had two day’s head start on us after we all escaped Ram’s Gate.”

  Raca and Talon exchanged a long look and, without a word spoken between them, snatched up their packs and stood. “We better be moving,” said Raca with an apologetic smile. “It was nice meeting you all.” She said it like a eulogy. As if there was no way a group of defenseless women could escape the Gate and live to see another day.

  “Wait!” said Zo, “There is something you should know. I have news of the Raven.”

  She took a deep breath and told them that the Ram had discovered the secret location of the Nest and were marching there now. As she spoke both Raca and Talon sank back to the ground as though the weight of a boulder rested upon their shoulders.

  “I don’t want to believe you,” said Talon.

  “Our companion, Gabe, knew the way to the Raven settlement. He left a day ago to warn your people. He’ll get there at least a day or two before the Ram, giving your people a chance to evacuate.”

  “Gryphon is with him. He’ll make sure they get out in time,” said Joshua, with so much confidence Zo’s chest tightened and she felt the need to rest her head on the ground and curl into a ball.

  Fight the grief, she urged herself.

  “Who’s Gryphon?” said Raca in a quiet voice, looking at Zo with her brows knit together.

  Zo tried to keep her expression even, but her devastation felt completely transparent.

  Joshua spoke up before she had to answer. “Gryphon is a Ram Striker. He’s my mentor and the one who helped us all escape the Gate.” He met Zo’s eye with a proud smile. “He’s also in love with Zo.”

  Chapter 7

  Aside from Craw, Gryphon was the last to cross the ladder.

  “I don’t understand,” said Gryphon. “How will you get across without leaving the ladder in place?”

  Craw wiggled his bushy black eyebrows and said, “I am a bird. I will fly.”

  These people were crazy. Gryphon shook his head and took a deep breath. Before he stepped out to follow the others, Craw stopped him. Even though Gryphon was taller, there was something in the way the Raven carried himself that made him feel as though he was looking up to the Bird.

  “Your Ram upper half is much larger than your lower. Keep your center of gravity low. Crawl if you must. No one will think less of you for it. The wind is strong today.”

  Gryphon nodded, determined to surpass the Raven’s expectations of him. No way would he crawl like a beggar to the Raven Nest. He might be a deserter, but he hadn’t lost all of his pride.

  Gryphon stepped onto the first wooden plank of the horizontal ladder, determined not to think about the thread-like material supporting the wobbly structure. The board sank with the pressure of his weight. Gryphon crouched low, threw his arms out wide and traded the sturdiness of the platform completely for the ladder. The whole ladder shook along with his knees, so much so that Gryphon couldn’t find the balance to lift his foot
and take another step.

  “Drop to your knees. You must keep moving.”

  With his jaw clamped so hard his teeth might shatter, Gryphon forced himself to take the next step. Then another. Then another. On the rope bridges he’d been able to hold onto the railings and look ahead to the next platform. Here the gaps in the wooden planks were spaced more like a ladder and required him to look down to find the next footing. But it was a long, long way down—the distance so extreme, so deadly, that Gryphon fought a tremor that raced up and down his spine, churning his stomach to the point of needing to be sick.

  When he was nearly halfway out, a gust of wind hit Gryphon and the ladder so hard the entire structure lifted several feet in the air then fell back down again so rapidly that Gryphon’s feet lost traction on the wood before gravity brought him swiftly down. But it was too late for Gryphon to recover his balance and footing. He missed the plank with one foot and hooked the ladder in between boards with the other.

  The horizontal ladder bounced up and down, the strain on the Lion’s Silk made obvious by a metallic, high-pitched whine. Gryphon gripped the wood with both hands and a leg, terrified the Silk would snap.

  Hearty laughter boomed from both the men on the island and from Craw—the last Raven left on the platform—while Gryphon struggled to pull himself back onto the ladder. Though his heart felt as though it might leap from his chest, he couldn’t help but offer a shaky smile. Almost dying could be exhilarating. He supposed.

  “What am I doing here?” he grumbled to himself. It was a fair question, one he’d asked himself a hundred times over.

  The wind calmed and the ladder stopped bouncing enough for Gryphon to pull himself up. A mild breezed cooled the sweat running down the sides of his face. He knelt on the ladder and commanded his arms and legs to stop shaking. Maybe crawling wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

  He reached out for the next rung of the ladder when a spear launched from the ground below Craw’s platform. It struck the board where his hands rested, splitting the wood in two. Instinct took over. Forgetting his fear of heights, Gryphon grabbed the spear before it dropped to the ocean and, somehow, found himself in a low crouch on the teetering bridge. He dodged a second spear before identifying his attackers.