Nameless (Nameless #1)(16)
Zo looked around to make sure no one was watching then dropped her blanket onto the ground over a discarded short sword.
It might have been a foolish risk, but one Zo felt she needed to take.
Walking back to the square to reach the Medica, she noted that Ram soldiers hurried about with preparations to leave the Gate. The silver sounds of swords sliding into sheaths and boots tromping on the cobbles sent chills up Zo’s back. She hugged the blanket and weapon to her chest, realizing for the first time just how dangerous her little stunt had been.
She made it to the steps of the Medica and exhaled deeply. Almost there.
The door flew open before she could reach the handle and a giant Ram collided into her. Blanket and sword flew from her hands as she landed hard on her backside.
Zo crawled over to pick up the blanket and cover the sword but she saw the boot of the Ram standing right next to the blanket, the hilt of the sword peeking out underneath.
“It’s not what you think.”
Gryphon adjusted the strap of the pack thrown over one shoulder. His brows knit together as he bent to pick up the blanket, careful to keep the sword hidden. Disappointment dripped from the corners of his lips as he frowned. “Healer?”
“It’s for Joshua. He’s been talking about training since the day I took him into my care. I thought to let him practice from bed until he’s able to move around without causing himself harm.”
Gryphon narrowed his eyes. “You know what would happen to you if someone found you carrying this?”
Zo nodded. “He isn’t improving like he should. I’m worried for him. I thought this would help raise his spirits.” Zo mumbled the explanation then looked down at her feet. In truth, she knew that much of the reason for his limited improvement was because of her. She liked Joshua, but was still having trouble opening up her heart enough in the blessing to heal him.
“Gryphon, it’s time.”
Zo looked over her shoulder to see a stout Ram waving Gryphon over to join a small group of about twenty soldiers.
Gryphon thrust the blanket and sword back into Zo’s unsuspecting arms. “Heal him, Nameless. Do whatever you must, just heal him.”
Zo nodded, numb and confused when Gryphon followed the other soldier and left her gripping the forbidden sword to her chest.
Minutes later, Joshua startled when she entered the room.
“Daydreaming again, Ginger?” said Zo as she struggled with an awkward pile of blankets.
The boy was still too pale. Sweat beaded above his upper lip and forehead—his body’s effort to fight the infection.
“I can’t believe I let you sneak up on me again.” He pressed a hand to his forehead. “I swear, the Medica’s softening my brain. I’m getting weaker while the other guys my age are getting stronger.” He wrung his hands into the bed cloth. “It isn’t fair.”
Zo knew better than to correct him. It was the illness, not the Medica, that slowed his reflexes. The herbs she gave him for pain weren’t helping either.
“What’s with the blankets?” Joshua asked as Zo fumbled with the pile.
She lowered the bundle onto his bed. The weapon object dropped out, landing smartly on Joshua’s ankle.
“What the—where did you get this!” He held up the weighted short-sword with reverent fingers, his eyes wide with shock. His fingers settled naturally into the familiar leather grip.
“Be quiet. Are you trying to get me killed?” Zo hissed.
She covered the sword in blankets and went back to close the door. “I borrowed it from one of the training fields while the soldiers were rushing to the gate.” She scratched at the mud on her cheek.
“Zo, you can’t just go around carrying weapons. You’re a Nameless. If someone saw you with this they’d kill you before asking questions.”
She shrugged. “You’ve been driving me crazy with all your talk of training.” Zo bit down on her bottom lip as she watched him admire the stupid sword. A warm energy entered her chest, like hot liquid passing too slowly down her throat. It was almost painful.
Joshua reluctantly pulled his eyes from the blade. “I don’t know how to thank you.”
She ruffled his red hair and scooped up the blankets. “Thank me by getting better.”
He would. The uncomfortable, warm sensation in Zo’s chest confirmed it. The boy would live.
Chapter 9
It had been two weeks since the Allies sent their sign. Two weeks and Zo hadn’t come close to finding any information that would help her people. Without the responsibility of Tess, she would have done a lot more than snoop around important buildings and mentally chart the movement at the gate.
Every time Zo formulated a new plan to get the information she was after, Tess’ innocent face came to the forefront of her thoughts. How could she take the risks necessary to help her people when it meant putting her little sister in danger?
After weeks of servitude, Zo still hadn’t seen half of the rooms in the Medica. She passed countless doors on her daily trip to the supply room. The brown plaster on the walls didn’t crack and flake so much in this wing of the building, evidence of the continuous add-ons the Medica received over the years.
The nicer rooms were usually reserved for injured Ram soldiers and leaders. No one trusted her to heal the high-ranking. As a result, Zo was assigned to work in the older wing of the building, where she attended mostly women and children.