Fearless (Nameless #3)(72)
“Too soon.” Raca breathed an unsteady breath. “No one expected them to come so far so fast.”
Given the winding, curving nature of the canyon road, the ranks of Ram mess units seemed to go on forever. And since there was no other path south, waiting was the only option.
“Hopefully the Nameless are far enough behind so we can follow the Ram,” said Zo. She had to find some way to overtake them. Some way to get to Gryphon before he … well, before. But with Tess in tow, she didn’t see that happening.
I can’t lose you too, Gryphon. I refuse to let you go.
“Murtog,” Raca whispered under her breath. “I hope you’ve covered your tracks.”
It took nearly two hours for the Ram to pass. Zo drew a line in the dirt for every Ram mess that marched by. One hundred and fifty-two lines in the dirt. Almost three thousand men—well more than the two thousand anticipated by Commander Laden. More than even Zo imagined, given her time inside Ram’s Gate.
Where had they all come from? How could she have been so wrong? With a force this large, the Ram would barely be outnumbered two to one, and they had a history of defeating their enemies even when they were outnumbered ten to one.
The Allies were depending on their numbers to save them. Without that, what hope was there for victory? And if they failed, what would happen to the Valley of Wolves? To the Raven and Kodiak refugees? The Ram raid that took Zo’s parents replayed over and over in her mind. Panic hijacked her breath. The Allies had no business fighting. They needed to retreat. Race to their loved ones, and leave this region all together.
“We wait an hour and then we leave,” said Raca with a firm nod.
Zo couldn’t disagree. “The pass opens up to forest soon. We’ll have to run through the night and take our chances with the Ram.” Zo swallowed, not daring to think what would happen if they were caught.
After hours of nerve-splitting walking in the Ram’s fresh tracks and with—what they assumed were—a host of Ram who didn’t make up the main fighting force at their backs, Zo, Tess, Joshua, and Raca crossed the Iiná river under the cover of night to the forest on the other side. If they’d continued walking east, they would have eventually run into the river Totoom. For now, they walked the land wedge that divided the two living bodies of water.
Undergrowth scratched and snagged at Zo’s legs as they pounded through the trees. Pine branches whipped Zo’s face, their woodsy scent lingering with the sting of the needles. Raca kept a steady pace, jumping and ducking through the foliage with animalistic agility. She rarely looked back to make sure the others were on her tail.
Zo welcomed the challenge—any pain was worth reaching Gryphon before the Ram—though it took most of her waking brain to concentrate on not falling with Tess strapped to her back. After a few hours of relentless running, Raca finally slowed to a halt.
Joshua nearly ran into her. The boy didn’t even seem tired. “Why are we stopping?” he complained.
In contrast, Zo felt as though her legs were detached from her body, wobbly and numb. She didn’t trust them to support her weight so she slumped down to the moist ground to stretch.
“Someone’s been through here.” Raca pointed to a series of bent branches and a few scattered footprints. If Zo hadn’t been looking, she never would have noticed them.
“How could you see that while running?” she asked in unbelief. The veil of night cast a dark net over the forest, compounded by the rushing of the two rivers on either side of them. It wouldn’t be long before the two bodies of water connected.
Raca didn’t seem to hear her. “These tracks are fresh.” She used her dark arms to wipe the sweat from her brow. “We passed the camped army hours ago. If it’s a Ram scout, it means two things. First, we can’t be more than a few miles ahead of the army. Maybe less. Second, they will see our tracks on their way back. Barnabas will send out a mess to track us down.”
Joshua paced with adrenaline. “But we are so far ahead. We must have covered five miles of forest. They won’t catch us before we reach the point where the waters meet.”
Raca looked directly at Zo wrapping a blanket around Tess to help support her when carried on her back. “We’re too slow.”
Zo pushed up to her feet. Her knees complained and her vision spun, sending her off balance. “I can go faster,” she said, even the thought made her want to vomit.
“Let’s move.” Raca hadn’t even finished the word when an arrow cut through the air like a whistle and sank deep into the flesh of her left shoulder. She staggered a step then drew her bow and strung an arrow. “Run!” she called.
In half a second Tess wriggled off of Zo’s back, hand firmly set in Zo’s as Joshua drew his short sword.
“Go!” Raca growled.
The three immediately took off. All she could think about was how that arrow could have found a home in Joshua’s chest. He could have died. It would have been her fault. “Faster, Joshua.” The trees grew thicker, the unmarked path harder and harder to navigate. They took turns tripping and scrambling back to their feet.
Zo felt like her heart might explode, but she didn’t dare stop. Raca twisted and let loose an arrow mid jump. The wound would catch up to her as soon as her adrenaline was spent. The rivers roared even louder with life on either side of them.