Fearless

by Jennifer Jenkins

  Zo shrugged. Not really.

  “Is it about Gryphon?”

  Zo’s head snapped up, inspecting the Raven for any hint of emotion. She didn’t like that Gryphon always seemed to be so close to Raca’s thoughts. “I was thinking more about what a good brother Talon is to you.”

  The corners of Raca’s mouth sank. She sighed and said, “Too good. His wife hates me right now.”

  “Why is that?”

  Raca shuffled lower into her bedroll and stared up at the wooden rafters. “Because until I marry, I am my brother’s responsibility. He and I have been traveling for weeks, visiting Laden and the Wolves, to find me a suitable spouse.” She rolled her eyes. “I confess I haven’t tried very hard. To be honest, I’m quite good at finding fault with men I’m supposed to consider marrying.”

  Zo scrunched her nose. At almost eighteen, Zo was approaching the age to consider such things, and Raca couldn’t be that much older than her. “Why is that?”

  Raca sighed. “It’s foolish of me, I know, but I’d love not to have the pressure of marrying someone to benefit my clan. I’d love to … ” Her voice trailed off, arm slung over her eyes, as if blocking out not just the light of the fire but the pressures of the world.

  She rested like that for so long Zo thought she might have fallen asleep, but then Raca finished. “I’d love to marry someone for love, without outside motives.” She rolled back over to Zo, her eyes now glistening. A tear leaked down her cheek. “When men see me they see only a position of influence. A game of political strategy. I want to be more than that. I’m just so tired of being invisible.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Laden was a traitor!

  It was all Gryphon could think about as he trained his men the following day. Laden had actually lived and breathed the Ram way of life, then walked away to join, and eventually lead, the enemy.

  Now that he knew the truth, Gryphon kicked himself for not seeing it sooner. Laden’s coloring, his build—they were all common Ram traits. Even his face had the look of the Ram, though his heavy scarring had disguised the long nose and other telling features.

  Of all people, Gryphon should have recognized him for what he was. He’d been a blind fool, but then so had the men of the camp. When a truth isn’t expected, it is harder to see. He was almost positive the men of camp didn’t know about Laden’s Ram heritage.

  If his suspicions were true—and he was almost positive they were—no one in camp knew Laden’s secret. No one except Gryphon.

  Why trust me?

  At the end of a long day of training, the busy throng of soldiers bustled around the practice field. The sun had set, but Gryphon was a statue—a stubborn rock holding ground in a fast-moving river of people.

  He and Commander Laden were the same. The revelation struck Gryphon like a boulder to the chest.

  “Is everything all right?”

  Gryphon looked up, surprised to meet the heavily hooded eyes of Commander Laden. Stubble cast an unruly salt-and-pepper blanket over the lower half of his face. He stood tall and proud, like any Ram warrior. But there was something different about him, an invisible burden Gryphon couldn’t quite define. The mark of a man who understood pain.

  “Walk with me,” Laden commanded when Gryphon didn’t respond.

  The smell of roasting game and body odor wafted in the faint breeze as they weaved through the campfires. Men stood at attention as Commander Laden walked past with his hands clasped behind his back. If he noticed the gesture, it didn’t show. Laden was the type of man who only looked forward.

  Gryphon paused when they reached the Commander’s tent, but Laden just kept walking. Jogging to catch up, Gryphon let the older Ram lead him out of the camp and into a thicket of young trees. The nighttime song of crickets filled the silence between them.

  “How are your forty?” Laden asked conversationally, as he settled to the ground using a tree trunk for a backrest.

  “Sloppy. Weak … ” Gryphon ran a hand through his hair. “They don’t stand a chance against a trained Ram mess unit.”

  Laden glanced up into the enormous sky. “Look at those stars, Gryphon.” He sighed, never pulling his eyes from the heavens. “Makes a man feel his own insignificance.”

  Gryphon didn’t look up. There was too much on his mind to think about stars. “Sir?”

  Laden lifted a hand. “You want to know why I left. Don’t you?”

  This is what Gryphon liked most about the Commander: he seemed to know Gryphon’s thoughts better than even he did at times. “Yes, sir. If you don’t mind.”

  Laden rubbed his young beard, the coarse sound loud in the stillness of the night. “My wife had a difficult first pregnancy. She gave birth to a healthy baby boy. Every Ram father’s dream.” Laden smiled, but the expression slowly slipped off his face, like a raindrop weighing down a leaf.

  “We didn’t know there was another baby. The healers weren’t in the room to help.” Laden looked up at the night, but this time Gryphon could tell he wasn’t really seeing the stars. “The cord was wrapped around her neck three times. My little girl couldn’t get the air she needed because I lacked the skill to deliver her. I could tell that something was wrong after the first few weeks of her life. By the time she was six months old it was obvious she wouldn’t pass another inspection.” Ram children were constantly monitored to insure only the strongest children grew into adulthood.

  He looked at Gryphon and frowned. “We named her Adelpha. She was beautiful.”

  “What became of her?” Gryphon gulped, thinking of Ajax’s infant son.

  “My wife’s heart broke when she realized our daughter had suffered damage to her brain. She gave up. I think in her eyes, Adel had died already.”

  Laden crumpled a pinecone in his hand. “But Adel was our daughter. I refused to hand her over to Ram authorities. She wasn’t perfect according to clan standards, but she was perfect to me.”

  Gryphon tried to imagine what it must have been like to know the society he’d served would kill his own child. He couldn’t comprehend the pain. “So you took her away.”

  Laden cleared his throat. His hands shook as he wiped pinecone chips from his palms. “I left my wife and boy to save my little girl. I carried her out in a travel pack while leaving for an excursion with my mess. I gave her honeycomb so she wouldn’t cry. A few of my brothers knew of my plans. They helped me conceal the child until I could sneak away. I went straight to the Wolves because I knew they had the best healers. I hoped they could do something for my little girl, even though I was a Ram.”

  “How did you two survive the journey?”

  “We almost didn’t. A pack of Wolves attacked us ten miles outside of their stronghold. I had Adel in a harness so I could easily carry her on my back while we traveled. I just had time to set her off the trail before they attacked.” He pointed to the scars lining his face—the scars he’d hidden behind for years. “The Wolves brought me within an inch of death before they heard my daughter’s cry. They took us to their healers. That is how I met Zo’s mother.”

  Gryphon couldn’t believe the irony. “Zo’s mother saved your life.”

  “And you saved her daughter inside the Gate. A life for a life. The universe always manages to find balance.”

  “What ever became of Adel? Does she still live with the Wolves?”

  Laden broke a thick stick over his knee. For the first time since Gryphon had known him, he looked wild and out of control. “She was killed in the same raid that killed Zo’s parents five years ago. It seems Adel was destined to die by the hands of a Ram.”

  Gryphon was a statue again, even more so now, because he couldn’t breathe. “I’m sorry,” he managed.

  “That’s when I formed the Allies. I am a traitor. And proud to be one.”

  Gryphon didn’t know how to respond to such an enormous admission. Words couldn’t offer any balm to the pain of Laden’s past, so Gryphon didn’t speak. He just sa
t looking at the night sky with Laden, searching for answers that would not come.

  “Wake up, Zo. It’s time.” Raca gently nudged Zo’s shoulder.

  Zo blinked the sleep from her eyes as she rolled over to attend to her bedroll and pack. Outside, the sky showed no sign of welcoming the day, and the chill air made her wish for another hour wrapped in her woolen blanket.

  Ikatou pulled open the trapdoor in the floor and stepped aside to allow one of his brothers to climb down the ladder. As the bear disappeared into the darkness beyond, Ikatou gestured for the others to follow. When only he and Zo were left in the room he said, “You are the weakest member of the group. If you show bravery, the others will feed off your courage.”

  Zo nodded. She hadn’t been too nervous until now. She placed a foot on the top rung of the ladder and accepted Ikatou’s hand as she took the first steps into the darkness.

  “More than anyone else, Murtog will see your blood oath as a sign of the Allies’ commitment to the Kodiak. Whatever you do, don’t cower in front of him. Though you are small, he must see you as a large, powerful person.”

  Zo nodded and, rung by rung, lowered herself into the black shaft of the Kodiak Caves. Above her, Ikatou mounted the ladder, pulling shut the trapdoor and snuffing out what little light the cabin had offered.

  Never in Zo’s life had she experienced such utter darkness. “Talon? Raca?” Zo whispered.

  “You’re almost at the bottom.” Talon’s voiced echoed all around her, taking on a ghoulish cadence. A hand touched her leg, another her arm, and finally her boots found purchase on the stone floor of the cave.

  “It’s cold down here.” Her teeth chattered as she spoke.

  Ikatou joined her at the bottom and the group huddled together around him. He pulled out a fist-sized stone that glowed warm yellow. I wondered if the natural properties of the stone made it glow or some other Kodiak mystery. The little light it offered was only enough to see the faces of those huddled around it.

  Ikatou handed a bristled, knotted rope to the members of the company. Each knot in the rope formed a loop large enough to slip a hand through. He said, “It’s dangerous to cast too much light around the caves, but there are places where the trail narrows and drops off on either side.” He threaded his hand through one end of the rope and the rest followed his example. “From here on, no one talks. If we do this right, we should be able to get into the belly of the cave in about two hours.”

  Zo’s spot on the rope put her second to last in the line, with a Kodiak behind her and Raca in front. Standing so far away from the glow of Ikatou’s stone made seeing any part of the trail impossible. She clutched the rope around her wrist with one hand and held the other out to feel for jutting stone and winding cave walls. Occasionally the rope would tug from someone falling. Their muttered curses and gasps of surprise were fair warning that the way required extra caution.

  Zo’s outstretched hand connected with Raca’s back, signaling the caravan had stopped. Whispers filled the cave and eventually Raca leaned toward her to pass along instructions.

  “We’re approaching the steam cavern. Ikatou said to lean against the rock at your left so we’re ready if someone falls.”

  Zo swallowed hard, nodding even though she knew Raca couldn’t see her. She passed the message on to the Kodiak behind her and doubled her grip on the rope as they descended deeper into the dark tunnel.

  The faint smell of sulfur reached Zo’s nose and the air grew wet and warm. Though she couldn’t see the walls around her, she sensed the room widen into an area much larger than the tunnel they’d been traveling. She reached out to feel for the wall at her left and placed each footstep with care. Water dripped high above her head, echoing as it connected with stone to create a chorus of music that might have been soothing were it not for the slippery stone beneath her boots and the blind drop only inches away.

  The deeper into the cavern they traveled, the more intense the heat. Water beaded down her back and ran from her brow into her eyes. The air turn so thick she could barely draw it through her lungs. Even if there were light, she doubted she’d be able to see anything through the thick steam surrounding them.

  A sharp tug on the rope accompanied a ripple of gasps and one deep cry of surprise. Zo lurched forward, her nails raking stone to stop the rope from pulling her off the narrow ledge. The force of the weight dragged her wrist down and brought her to kneel on the trail.

  “Please,” came Raca’s desperate cry. “Help us.”

  Raca, and she assumed Talon, hung off the side of the ledge. Their combined weight threatened to tear Zo’s arm from its socket.

  “Take her free hand!” the Kodiak behind Zo commanded.

  Unable to see Raca, Zo reluctantly reached out into the darkness as the rope pulled and swayed with Raca and Talon’s weight. Zo’s fingertips brushed against a hand, but failed to grasp it.

  The steam suffocated. Zo couldn’t breathe.

  “We have Talon,” Ikatou whisper-yelled from somewhere ahead. “But we can’t lift them both.”

  Behind her, the Kodiak growled, probably wishing she could trade him places.

  “My hand! I can’t hold on much longer,” cried Raca.

  Zo leaned even farther over the ledge, one hand batting the air around where Raca should have been.

  And then, finally, their hands connected. “I’ve got her!” she gasped, choking on the thick air.

  Huge arms wrapped around her waist. “Don’t let go,” the Kodiak whispered near her ear. Zo nodded, unable to speak, though she knew he couldn’t see her. The Kodiak lifted both her and Raca into the air, supporting Zo as she clung to Raca.

  The girl wiggled and kicked to find the ledge.

  When Zo was high enough for her feet to find purchase on the ledge, she helped pull Raca until she collapsed on the ground at Zo’s feet.

  Both Talon and Raca whispered reassurances to one another between heavy breaths. Zo reached out and rested a hand on Raca’s back as the girl stood.

  “Forward,” Ikatou’s whisper filled the cavern, jumping off walls to reach them. In all of the commotion of the last few minutes, how much noise had they made? Would the sound travel far enough to wake the sleeping bears within the mountain?

  Zo wiped the sweat from her forehead with the hand not bound to the rope and shuffled forward. Water droplets ricocheted off the floor of the steamy cavern. The vast room hung in eerie silence.

  The path sloped downward. The trail widened and the air changed from moist warmth to cool again. In the almost total darkness, Zo found it difficult to tell how long they traveled. Minutes might have been hours. Her nerves were frayed, every step tedious.

  Down, down, down they walked. Deep into the belly of the mountain. Zo shivered—extra cold thanks to the moisture that hung on her clothes and chilled her skin from the steam caves.

  The rope rubbed the skin around her wrist raw. The tips of her fingers burned from fumbling against the sides of the cave, and she tried desperately not to think about the thousands of pounds of stone above them. When the trail finally leveled off, she thought she might cry with relief.

  Faint blue-gray light filtered through what must have been a massive skylight high above the ground, set in the middle of a cavernous dome at least 300 yards in diameter. The blue light reflected off a steaming pond below, as though the Kodiak lived in the gutted cavity of a sleeping volcano.

  Caught up in the wonder of her surroundings, Zo didn’t notice the black line of shadows standing ten yards in front of them until a torch was lit.

  Zo shielded her face from the light as her eyes adjusted.

  Five bare-chested men stood apart from one another, their beefy arms hanging relaxed but ready at their sides. Black hair fell past their shoulders, tied back with twine. Their feet were bare but they wore swaths of brown fur on their calves and wrists.

  The torchbearer came out to meet Ikatou. The two men stood practically nose-to-nose, ev
aluating without words.

  Finally the torchbearer reached out an arm and cupped the back of Ikatou’s neck. Their foreheads pressed together, noses nearly kissing. “You were wise to come through the cabin entrance, brother.” The corner of his lip hitched up into a friendly, handsome smile.

  Zo felt her body relax.

  “Who are your guests?” The man’s whisper filled the cavern. No wonder the Kodiak didn’t approve of secrets; no conversation within these caves could be truly private with these acoustics.

  The man approached Zo, Talon, and Raca with a frown. Zo knew their size alone was enough to label them anything but Kodiak.

  “Wolf and Raven messengers for Murtog.”

  The man shook his head. “The chief will not be pleased.”

  “He needs to hear what we have to say.”

  The heavily hooded brows of the Kodiak furrowed. “He will hear nothing from you, Ikatou. You know this.”

  Ikatou nodded. “Please. Help us speak to him.” He looked around the empty cavern. “Before the others awaken.”

  The man stood firm, unrelenting.

  Ikatou marched over to Zo and raised the backs of her hands to the firelight. “This is important, Poi. For the sake of our people, I beg your help.”

  The torchbearer approached Zo and met her eye before taking her hand to examine the new scars. He looked up again at Zo, his gaze deepening into a question he must not have felt qualified to ask.

  With a few quick hand gestures, his men fanned out to surround their small company. “I’ll take you. But I cannot promise that he will see you.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Laden cleared his throat and added. “I’ve told you my story, boy. Now you tell me yours.”

  “Sir?”

  “I want to know what you’ve been keeping from me to preserve your loyalty to the Ram.”

  Gryphon’s mouth hung open. “How … ”

  “How do I know?” Laden shrugged. “I’ve become quite good at reading people. Honorable men are especially easy to decipher. You have the decency to look ashamed every time I mention the future, which tells me you don’t really plan to stay with us.”