Nameless (Nameless #1)(10)



Gryphon pretended to cough into his fist before unrolling the chicken leg from its wrapping. He offered it to Joshua just as the healer strolled into the room.

“I hope you plan to eat that, soldier.” The girl was young and slight, but had a stern quality to her voice.

Gryphon sat back and took a modest bite before setting the chicken back in its wrappings. “Of course.”

She eyed him as she walked over to Joshua’s side carrying a tray of medicines and bandages. Her white Medica uniform was clearly meant for a man. It hung off her small frame in an almost comical way. A red headscarf covered her hair and most of her face; the exposed portion of her skin was hidden behind a cracked layer of mud or plaster. Like she herself might carry some disease. But beneath it all were unique eyes framed by thick black lashes. Very different from the old men and women who usually attended the sick in the Medica.

Joshua grumbled something about systematic starvation as he rolled onto his good side. The healer’s practiced hands undressed the bandage. She unstopped a bottle from her tray. “Try to relax this time,” she whispered.

Three drops into the wound made Joshua’s whole body flex into a ball. He breathed hard through his teeth.

Gryphon didn’t remember gaining his feet. “What was that?”

The girl ignored him. She rested her hands just outside the raw hole in Joshua’s side and said, “Take. Clean. Heal.” She repeated the words over and over again. They flowed like a calm wind.

Gryphon’s arms dotted with goose bumps.

The healer’s hands swept along Joshua’s skin, starting at the wound then moving outward, as if willing the medicine into his bloodstream. Joshua’s legs and arms turned limp. His eyelids sagged. His jaw slackened. The healer continued her words as she dressed the wound and rolled him onto his back. She pulled the blanket up over his shoulders and cleared the wild red hair from Joshua’s eyes with a sympathetic grin before moving toward the door.

“Wait,” said Gryphon.

The girl stopped but didn’t turn around.

“Show me your hair.” Gryphon didn’t have the right to demand anything of this healer, but something about her voice sounded familiar.

She grimaced, but pulled the linen wrap from her head to reveal a tangle of thick black hair that fell in an uneven line below her shoulders.

“You’re the Nameless who saved Joshua.”

She stared back at him, daring for a small moment to look into his eyes. Willful, if a tad frightened.

“I’ve never met a Nameless healer,” said Gryphon.

She flinched, but then seemed to remember herself with a tight curtsy before escaping the room.

Gryphon stared at the door until he felt sure of his privacy. Only then did he bring out a stout brick of wood and a carving knife. He hummed random notes as he worked the wood. The beginnings of a new song danced on the tip of his tongue. Lyrics formed in his mind about a faceless girl who spouted magic from her fingertips. The melody begged to be sung, but Gryphon resisted. No one would ever sing his songs. Not even him.

Ram did not sing.





Chapter 6





Though Zo didn’t get to see Tess until the evenings, her every action and thought revolved around keeping her little sister safe. Was she hungry? Were the Ram field bosses kind to her? Were they working her too hard?

Zo left Tess when she reported to the Medica every morning, and every morning she wondered if it would be the last time she saw her sister’s face. No matter how much skill and knowledge Zo possessed as a healer, it was only a matter of time before someone died under her care.

Healing wasn’t just cleaning infection and wrapping bandages. To really heal someone you had to care about him enough to open your heart and let compassion travel through your hands. But how could she feel an ounce of compassion for the people who’d taken everything from her?

Zo picked up a smooth stone on her way to the Medica. She weighed it in her hand then threw it into the forest lining the path. She wanted to scream, to release the fire in her stomach and rid herself of all the hate gathered there. But it would take more than stones and screams to relinquish her dark emotions.

She needed to find some way to care for these people. For Tess’ sake. But how?

Just as she did every day, Zo held her breath as she hurried through the vast square and past the sinister platform. She reached the pale stone Medica building just as the sun crested the eastern wall of Ram’s Gate. There were few Nameless here in the center of the town. Mostly Ram women walked the street. Many of them carried a long dagger or sword at their hip. Every now and then, Zoe saw a girl around her age with her head completely shaved, bringing emphasis to the Ram’s trademark long, narrow nose and dark features.

Zo pulled her headscarf lower and kept her head down. She did her best to blend into the heavy stone buildings until she slipped unobserved through the back door of the Medica.

Joshua, with his flaming red hair and excess of dimples, was still asleep when she entered his small room. But he wasn’t alone. The Ram soldier called Gryphon sat hunched in a chair next to him. His dark hair fell forward, framing a defined jaw and downturned lips. His knife and wooden carving were held loosely in large hands as he dozed.

Zo pressed her back to the wall and worked her way around the room, careful to keep as much space between her and the Ram soldier as possible. She set her tray of medicines on the edge of the bed. Gingerly lifting Joshua’s wrist, she timed the rhythm of his heart.

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