Nameless (Nameless #1)(45)

“Our neighbor’s best worker just broke his arm. They’ve promised me a barrel of apples if I send you to set it for him.”

The stitches in Zo’s stomach tugged as she pulled the threadbare shirt off over her head.

“Do you know how to set an arm?” Gryphon’s mother put her hands on her hips. Clear definition cut into the woman’s biceps and forearms.

“Yes, Mrs. Drea.”

“Good. Joshua will take you.”

Zo grabbed her kit and hurried after Mrs. Drea to meet Joshua on the road. “Do a good job,” Mrs. Drea called after them.

After a short walk, Joshua led Zo down a narrow lane neighboring a flowering apple orchard. Several ragged-looking Nameless passed them, carrying buckets and shovels. The men kept their eyes trained on the ground until the last second, then stared accusingly at Zo. Like she’d done something wrong.

She pressed her hand to her stomach, as if to hide the clean clothes Mrs. Drea had given her. When they reached a farmhouse, Zo waited by the road while Joshua spoke with the Ram woman at the door. She tucked her short, strawberry hair behind one ear and laughed at something Joshua said while holding her ripe, pregnant belly. When the Ram woman spotted Zo, her whole demeanor darkened. With a sharp hand, she pointed around the house to a barn.

Zo nodded her understanding and walked along the curved cobblestone path to the barn. The wooden building looked similar to Gryphon’s Nameless’ quarters with one lone door hanging a little off square and a small window to let in light.

Zo knocked before entering. “Hello?” she called into the dark room.

“Over here.” The male voice sounded strangely familiar. She followed the sound to a dim corner where the light didn’t reach. The young man groaned as he sat up from a hay-lined cot. “Hello again, healer.”

“Stone?” Of all the Nameless inside the Gate, she’d been called to help the rebel leader. The man, who not long ago, wanted to throw her off a cliff for information.

Zo took a step backward. Then another.

“There is no need to be afraid, healer. We are on the same team.”

“It isn’t safe to be with you.” She looked at the door and contemplated running out. “Is your arm even broken?”

In the dim light, the scar that ran along Stone’s face caught a fraction of light. It was a gruesome blemish on an otherwise handsome face. He held his arm to his waist like a bird with a lame wing. “I promise I didn’t even know you were coming.” He looked down at her medical satchel and winced. “Can you at least give me something for the pain?”

Zo couldn’t go back to Mrs. Drea and tell her she didn’t perform her task.

She sighed. “I can treat you better in the light.” Gesturing for him to sit down on the edge of a bed, she started mixing herbs and oils for pain. While she worked, Stone stared with eyes that seemed much older than his twenty-something years. She felt his intensity without needing to see the dark bags under his eyes that marked the nights spent working to overthrow the Ram.

“You know what you’re doing is pointless,” she whispered. “You’re only going to get good people killed.”

“No, healer. A bird in a cage is pointless. What we do might be insane, but it’s something.”

She stopped and looked up from her work. “How will you do it? Even the entire force of the Allies will struggle against the Ram. They are too strong. Too effective in battle.”

“Yes. But they’re dying.”

Zo’s hands froze. “How so?”

The corner of Stone’s mouth hitched up into a crooked grin. “You aren’t the only one who knows how to steal records, healer. Right now Nameless outnumber the Ram two to one.”

The figure didn’t surprise Zo in the least. For years, fugitives from all over the region came to the Gate as a last resort to starvation. And that number didn’t include the Nameless born into slavery. “But you have no weapons. No training. Shovels and fists make little impact on the Ram shield. They will mow you over like dry wheat.”

Zo measured his forearm for a splint and he slapped her hand away with his good arm. “We will find a way to escape our slavery.” His shaking finger pointed down on her.

Zo saw something in him then. Something she understood more than he could possibly know.

Pain.

An awful brand that seeps into the heart and burns hot like smithy coals.

Head bent, she gently took hold of his broken arm. “May I?” When he offered no objection, she spread the healing poultice from wrist to elbow. The healing words flowed from her lips with the desperation of one who has struggled toward something for so long and still not found reprieve. She ached for this man and willed his strength to return.

Because he could not lead his revolution with a broken arm.

The blessing ended and Zo slumped over to catch herself. Her vision spun as she collected his pain. She closed her eyes and waited until her body felt right again.

“That was amazing.” Stone looked at her in awe.

“You’re not going to like this next part.” Zo prepared some linen to make a sling then set the splint on the bed next to them.

Stone said, “So how does it feel knowing you’re worth more to that Ram, Gryphon, than a new commission?”

“What do you mean?” Zo examined the break with a frown.