Clanless (Nameless #2)(64)
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 bother 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.