Clanless (Nameless #2)(28)

Gryphon nodded his gratitude to Gate Master Leon. He didn’t care who hit him, even if it was the Seer’s favorite advisor. He just wanted it to be over.

The Gate Master smiled in an unnerving sort of way. He turned back to lock the door to the shed, which was odd because none of the other instructors had bothered.

“I’d like to see what you’re really made of, if you don’t mind.”

“Excuse me, sir?” Gryphon’s spine stiffened.

The Gate Master dropped into a fighting stance with legs wide, both hands up and ready to strike or block. “No weapons. I just want you to fight me, boy. Show me why they think you’re so special.” He spat the last word.

When Gryphon just stood there, the Gate Master reached out and slapped him across the face. “Fight me!” he growled. He went to strike him again, but Gryphon’s hand flew up to block the attack.

The Gate Master’s lips pulled into a tangled smile that revealed rotting teeth. “Oh, this is going to be fun.” He grabbed Gryphon by the hair and threw him into the side of the shed before jumping on top of him. The first few punches to his ribs invigorated Gryphon. He broke free of the Gate Master’s hold and landed one solid fist to his jaw.

Liquid fury seemed to fill the man as he attacked. Lacking both size and skill, Gryphon managed only two more hits before the Gate Master dropped him to the floor again. Only this time he didn’t get up. Gryphon willed himself to pass out as the Gate Master administered his blows, but the man was merciless and only brought Gryphon to the edge of unconsciousness before moving from his head to punch his sides, arms, legs, and back. Through bleary vision, the Gate Master seemed to grow black feathers. With each hit he crowed at such a pitch, Gryphon abandoned blocking everything but his ears. By the time he was through, Gryphon couldn’t even rise from the floor of the damp shed.

He pinched his eyes shut. This couldn’t be happening. This wasn’t real. He wasn’t twelve years old. This was a dream. Just a painful, painful dream.

When he gained control of his breathing and with eyes still closed, he told himself, “I’m going to wake up now. I’m going to wake up.”

The crowing stopped, the void of sound a heavy silence.

Gryphon dropped his hands, pulled one more breath through his nose, and opened his eyes.

But what he saw terrified him.

Gabe watched him from only a few yards away.

“What did you do to her?” the Wolf asked. His voice ricocheted off the black nothing that surrounded them.

Gryphon didn’t realize he was carrying someone until he looked down. Cradled in his arms was Zo, hanging lifeless with limbs spilling over his arms. Blood rolled from an unseen cut down her forearm and dripped off her fingertip. Each drop hit the black ground and broke the quiet with a thundering boom.

“I don’t understand.” Gryphon’s voice echoed in the black drum of in-between space. “What happened?”

“You did this,” said Gabe, pointing at Zo.

Another drop of blood collided with the floor. On impact, a boom shook the ground beneath his feet.

“No.” Gryphon sunk to one knee, trying to force Zo’s head up so he could look into her eyes and see life. But his efforts were like sand slipping through his fingers.

“You left her. She didn’t have a chance without your protection, and you left her.”

Gryphon shook his head over and over again. “She made me promise to help the Raven. I wouldn’t … I couldn’t … ”

Suddenly Zo vanished, and Gryphon found himself hugging empty space. He swiped at the air around him, but it was too late. She was gone.

A foreign sob rumbled from his throat. He’d never made that sound before, didn’t know it was possible. He couldn’t lose Zo. Not again. She meant too much. Without her, the darkness slid closer to him. Somehow Gryphon knew that if the darkness came too close, he would be lost to it as well.

Gabe stood right next to him, his hair turned black and feathery, eyes dilated to tiny black orbs. He held out his hand and offered Gryphon a familiar knife. “This is the only way to make the pain stop, Ram.”

Gryphon accepted the blade, testing the weight of it in his hands.

“End it now, before you hurt someone else.” Gabe rested his hand over Gryphon’s, turning the point of the knife toward Gryphon’s chest. Sorrow weighed down the lines of the Wolf’s face as he nodded encouragement. “That’s right. Do this for Zo. It’s what she would have wanted.”

Gryphon didn’t want to die, but when had he ever refused Zo anything? Wounded Raven and Kodiak warriors appeared at his feet. First five, then ten, then twenty. They all clutched spear wounds, moaning like the waking dead from pain. Their anguished, bloodshot eyes looked up to him with the simple question, “Why?”

Gryphon redoubled his grip on the knife. Pressure built around his temples, pain so real he nearly collapsed.

“Just end it.” Gabe’s voice turned darker as he helped the knife break skin. His eyes lost their almond shape, growing more round and protuberant. Like the Gate Master. Then it changed again to Zander. Then to Barnabas.

Zo wouldn’t want me to do this. Gryphon shook his head as if trying to wake from a dream. The tip of the knife dug deeper into his chest.

Then Tess appeared, walking around the fallen Raven and Kodiak like a tiny blond dancer. Her little hands rested on Gryphon’s cheeks. “I don’t want you to die.”