Little by little, Gryphon fell back from Sani and the rest of the Raven warriors as they ran. Sani glanced over his shoulder to check that Gryphon was still following, eyeing the growing distance between them with distaste. The more time he spent with the boy, the more he struggled to believe he was only thirteen years old. What thirteen-year-old ran around pledging his life to others? He spouted nonsense about honor when he wasn’t even old enough to grow whiskers. The boy had some nerve.
The forest thickened with pines and spruces, forcing them to follow winding game trails. Gryphon lost sight of Sani on a turn and made a quick decision.
He darted east, leaving the trail for an untamed path through the dense forest.
It wouldn’t be long before Sani realized Gryphon’s absence and came looking for him to fulfill his duty as ‘Atiin, but Gryphon knew this mountain and was confident he could easily avoid them.
He sprinted a half mile east then, ducking between a pair of lichen-covered boulders, crumpled to the ground knowing he would never see Joshua again.
I’m doing this for him, he reminded himself over and over again. Joshua deserved a life that Gryphon simply couldn’t offer. Gryphon pressed his palms into his eyes. Without Joshua to care for, his focus fell to the one thing he had left to fight for: Zo’s memory. And he’d start by hunting Zander and Ajax. They’d feel every ounce of pain Zo had before she died, even if it was his final act in this life.
It wasn’t long before the sounds of snapping branches and murmuring voices reached him. They were close enough that Gryphon easily distinguished Sani’s high-pitched tone from the other Raven, but distant enough that Gryphon didn’t bother running. The Raven didn’t seem to look for long before they moved on. Even the son of a chief couldn’t convince the warriors to give their time to a lost cause. And if they mistrusted him enough to think he defected to warn the Ram, they’d run with even more haste than they had up to now.
Gryphon lay hidden between the boulders into the afternoon, long after the sun peeked over the horizon. Waiting. Hating the cruel blow life had dealt him. More hungry for revenge than for any morsel of food. He ran a hand over his face to feel the product of almost two weeks without shaving. His dark beard grew fast and thick and it wouldn’t be long before even his mother wouldn’t have recognized him.
Gryphon plucked a blade of grass and tore it into strips, thinking about his mother and how she ought to have made his list of things and people to live for. Beneath her rough exterior, she had loved Gryphon, even though a chunk of her heart wasn’t available to him.
Yes, he assumed it was because his father had abandoned them when he was a baby. She’d let the disgrace govern her and Gryphon’s lives, insisting that his father’s shield be hung above the family hearth—an ever-present monument to their shame. But as a boy, Gryphon couldn’t understand why the decisions of his father were his fault. He hadn’t left. He’d been right under her nose all that time. Searching for new ways to please her and ease her pain. She’d been so young when his father left, probably close to Gryphon’s age. Her whole life forfeit because she didn’t move on. Gryphon would have forgiven her emotional neglect a thousand times over. But forgiveness was never sought and, consequently, never offered.
He bit off a piece of grass root and stared at the clouds shifting in the sky. His thoughts were broken by the faint sound of breathing behind him. People didn’t sound like that when they breathed. It was more like the slow and heavy pant of a dog. A very, very large dog. He craned his neck to look back, afraid to make any sudden movements.
Two bear cubs with brownish-black fur backed behind their gigantic mother. They seemed to whimper at her feet. The mother wore a shaggy brown coat. Her long muzzle stretched into a wet, black nose raised to the sky as she sniffed the air.
Gryphon flipped onto his stomach and eyed the massive creature. Its head was easily as wide as Gryphon’s shoulders, and standing on four legs, the beast’s back would have met his chest. He’d heard of mess units spotting Kodiak bears, but they mostly kept east to the Kodiak Hills. Men whispered stories about the size of these beasts, but people exaggerate, and Gryphon hadn’t believed them. Until now.
Again, the bear sniffed the air around Gryphon. She sneezed and shook her head, as if disgusted by what she smelled. Tossing her head from side to side, she clacked her teeth together, her mouth opening and shutting.
Gryphon slowly pushed up onto his hands and knees. “Easy, girl. I’m not going to hurt your cubs. I’ll leave.”
The bear grunted and charged forward, then stopped only five yards away. With claws like daggers, it swiped at the air as it backed up.
Gryphon shifted into a crouch and picked a dead tree branch off the ground. “I’m leaving. I’m leaving. It’s all right. I’m leaving.”
He took a half step backward and the bear charged again, this time stopping just outside the reach of its claw swipes. The fur on its neck stood on end and its ears lay flat to its head.
This was no longer just about defending her cubs. She seemed hungry, and he was prey. The giant Kodiak pushed onto its hind legs. The force of her growl sent Gryphon stumbling back.
Gryphon raised the stick above his head and shouted his own battle cry before launching the stick at the bear’s face like a spear. The stick flew wobbly through the air and struck the bear’s nose. The roar that followed forced Gryphon to cover his ears.
The Kodiak charged forward and pushed up onto its hind legs. This time, when it swiped out with a paw, all the bear’s weight went into the blow. Gryphon ducked and scrambled back against a tree. He scoured the ground for some kind of weapon to defend himself.
Just as the bear reached him, an arrow shot from somewhere behind Gryphon, connecting with the beast’s shoulder. The bear howled in fury, biting at the arrow, desperate to pull it free of its body.
Gryphon spun around and gaped at the sight.
A woman stood on the shoulders of a man, a bow in her hands with an arrow aimed at the bear. The man at the bottom of the human totem kept a wide stance to support her weight and held the girl by the ankles.
“Don’t turn your back on her,” the woman said, her accent clearly Raven. “She’s threatened by my size and knows now that my bite stings, but an injured Kodiak is a very dangerous creature.”
Gryphon shook his head in wonder and obeyed the woman, turning to face the beast that seconds ago had almost killed him.
“Good, now back away. Good. Almost there. Now stop.”
Gryphon stood level to the pair of Raven, panting and unable to keep his hands and legs from shaking.
The Raven man said, “Now it’s your turn, bear. Back up before this girl squashes me into nothing.” The man didn’t seem at all taxed by the weight of the Raven girl. The bear snorted and whined as it backed away, but no one relaxed until it disappeared over the crest of a nearby ridge.
The Raven girl jumped to the ground and Gryphon turned to thank the strangers but was met by a drawn bow, its arrow pointed at his head. “Who are you?” she hissed. The Raven man also had bow drawn, any humor he shared with the woman gone.
“You have Sani’s beaded bracelet hanging about your wrist,” the girl said. “What have you done to my brother?”
If this was Sani’s sister, that also made her Chief Naat’s daughter. “Months ago, when I was on a scouting trip with my unit, we came upon a flock of Raven,” said Gryphon. “We attacked. I had the chance to kill Sani but instead spared his life. I’ve since left my clan to warn your people of a coming invasion. Sani recognized me and claimed he is my ‘Atiin. I just came from the Nest with him after helping convince your people to flee.”
The woman sucked in a quick breath. “They left the Nest?”
“Impossible,” said the man. His head was shaved on both sides, leaving a cropped strip of hair running from forehead to nape.
“They escaped the Ram by boat and are headed to meet the Allies in the south.”
The woman lowered her bow and tugged on the man’s sleeve. “They’re safe, Talon.” She wiped a tear from her cheek. “They’re safe.”
Zo didn’t bother telling Joshua and Tess about Boar’s desire to have her. They only knew Stone and Boar couldn’t come to terms.
Eva stared at Zo across the burial pyre and offered a sharp nod, her Ram way of saying, “We will fight this.” Zo appreciated the show of support even though it was accompanied by a husband’s wails, as smoke carried a murdered wife’s ashes to the heavens.
The fumes of death constricted Zo’s throat. Stone had spared her life, but at what cost? Now that Stone knew the Clanless were targeting them, he’d have everyone on high alert for the rest of the journey. If they could just survive another week, Commander Laden’s scouts would surely spot them and send help. Just another week, and Zo and Tess would be completely safe for the first time in months.
After the short burial service, the Nameless refugees strapped their belongings to their backs and, as one compact group, marched south. Stone ordered they travel like they slept, with their best fighters traveling along the perimeter of the group. However, walking the game trails of a forested mountain pass forced the group to thin out like marching ants.
Zo tugged both Tess and Joshua close to her sides. They walked behind Stone and Eva, who held hands. Eva carried a knife in her free hand, and Stone, a spear. Their eyes constantly scanned the forest for signs of movement.
Joshua leaned over and whispered in Zo’s ear, “You’re keeping things from me again.”
Zo watched Tess hop forward and kick a rock along the game trail. “Not now, Joshua.” She tilted her head toward Tess.
“I can handle more than you think. If I’m going to protect you and Tess, I need to know everything that’s going on, Zo.”
Tess must have heard her name because she abandoned her rock and pretended to be fascinated by a hole in her shirt.
“You are not my protector, Joshua. You’re brave and strong, but if anyone is responsible for the lives of our little group,” she hugged them both closer to her sides, “it’s me. Do you understand?”
Joshua grumbled about her being worse than Gryphon and kicked his own rock down the trail. It knocked into the back of Stone’s heel. The Nameless leader turned and scowled at the boy then resumed his scouting.
Joshua’s head drooped even lower, till his chin rested against his chest.
“Cheer up, Ginger,” said Zo. “We’re only a week outside of the Allied Camp. I’m sure when Commander Laden sees what a skilled fighter you are, he’ll put you in charge of something important.”
“Yeah, probably make me the Master of Cleaning Weapons. Or maybe the Captain of Washing Dishes.” He sighed. “I just … I wish Gryphon were here, is all.” The muscles in his neck flexed and he looked out into the woods, his head turned away from Zo, likely to hide his tears.
Me too, Ginger. Me too.