Fearless

by Jennifer Jenkins

  Ikatou leaned forward and pressed his hands against the table. “The Kodiak people want those who were taken from us returned.” He pointed at Zo and she tried not to flinch under the heavy burden of a simple finger. “This girl is the key to healing our clan. Laden sees her as a daughter and because her fate is connected to that of the Nameless slaves, Laden has agreed to help us take back what is ours.” His voice rose, and he took several labored breaths to control himself before quietly adding, “But he will only agree if the Kodiak will join the fight.”

  Before Murtog could reply, Raca added, “My people have been forced from the Nest. My father and his warriors stand with Commander Laden in the fight against the Ram.” Her voice carried such power and passion, Zo couldn’t help but envy her. “If there was ever a time that the Ram might be defeated, it is now, with the full force of all three clans joined together.”

  Zo added, feeling desperate. “The Wolves and Raven along with a handful of Kodiak will attend an Ostara at the beginning of next week. All of the leaders of the region who have reason to fight the Ram will be in attendance. The Allies need you. Commander Laden asks that you leave your Cave and join the counsel that will determine the fate of so many.” Mine especially, she thought.

  Murtog grumbled. “Laden and I have spoken before.”

  “Please,” said Raca. Her hand stretched out to rest on his forearm.

  Murtog flinched and then stilled under Raca’s touch. Slowly, he looked down at the small brown hand resting gently against his mighty arm. Raca met his gaze, her hand unmoving, her expression supplicant but unafraid of the volatile chieftain.

  Murtog’s chest rose and fell once.

  Twice.

  Then, in one painfully slow movement, he pulled his arm out from under Raca’s, pushed back from the table, and left the room.

  Raca stared at her hand, still resting on the table, in silent shock.

  They slept that night on cots in the antechamber of the chief’s rooms. They hadn’t seen the chief for the rest of the day. Talon and Ikatou agreed that they would leave under the cover of night, a few hours after the clan settled to sleep, and after a quick nap in the cabin head back to the Allies.

  Zo’s stomach churned as she lay next to Raca. Neither pretended to sleep as the failure of their journey weighed heavily upon them. Like it or not, in a few hours they’d leave to report their failure to Commander Laden.

  A muted but distinct roar filled the cave, then died, making Zo think it was only the product of too little sleep and too much worry. Then the roar sounded again. Louder than before.

  “What was that?” Talon asked. He pushed himself up off his padded bed and walked over to the large wooden doors that sealed off the chief’s wing of the Kodiak cave system.

  “It could be an uprising,” said Ikatou. “My people are hungry for vengeance. If word of our arrival and dismissal leaked to the clan, Murtog might finally taste the frustration of his people. Loyalty can only go so far.”

  Talon unlatched the door and pushed it open. “The guards are gone.”

  Zo and the others climbed to their feet just as another thundering roar filled the cave.

  “An uprising?” asked Zo.

  “What will they do to Murtog?” asked Raca.

  Ikatou held up a hand, silencing the group. “Listen.”

  A deep voice, faint but distinct, interrupted by yet another roar.

  “It can’t be,” muttered Ikatou.

  Without warning, the Kodiak bolted through the door and down the moonstone tunnel. Raca strapped on her quiver and reached for her bow in one flowing movement. She nocked an arrow and approached the doors with caution.

  “No,” said Talon, already walking toward her.

  “Try and stop me,” was her only response before sprinting out the door and into the spiraling tunnel after Ikatou.

  Talon growled and ran after her, leaving Zo to trail after him.

  The noise ahead grew louder. Between the echoes of her footfalls, Murtog’s voice seemed to fill every inch of the cave, bouncing off stone in riotous glory. She burst into the main cavern to find it filled to capacity with Kodiak adorned in fur and buckskin coverings. Every head towered above Zo’s. Off to the side, Murtog stood with arms outstretched and an obvious sheen of tears trailing down his face. “The time for mourning has passed. Tomorrow, we march to avenge our loved ones, and soon, to bring them home.”

  The battle cry that followed forced Zo to clamp her hands over her ears. Murtog walked off the dais a true chief and passed Zo, Raca, and the others back down the moonstone tunnel to his chambers without a word.

  Zo took Raca’s hand in hers and squeezed. The Raven princess stared after the Kodiak chief, mouth hanging open and the beginnings of a smile lighting her beautiful eyes.

  Ikatou carried no such self-discipline. He sprinted over to Zo, took her by the waist, and tossed her five feet in the air. “You did it!” He wrapped her in a giant bear hug that cut off both circulation and air. When he finally set her down, Zo looked back over to Raca and grinned. “I don’t think I did anything.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Gryphon couldn’t bring himself to cheer with the rest of the Allies when the first wave of Kodiak emerged from the gap and made its way down into the narrow valley, exactly one week and a day following Zo’s departure.

  He was consumed with relief at Zo’s return, at her success in coming closer to fulfilling the blood oath—at the chance he’d have to pull her into the protective cage of his embrace and hold her for just a moment. But another emotion flared hot within him.

  His clan.

  What would become of them? No matter how justified the Allies were in defending themselves and gaining back what was taken, Gryphon couldn’t help but mourn the future of his people should these clans actually defeat the Ram.

  The Wolves had arrived from the southern passage only yesterday, swelling the camp with fathers, sons, wives, and daughters old enough to attend the Ostara. Laden had explained that it was customary for Wolf fathers to show off their daughters at these gatherings. By day, the pretty girls dutifully looked after the family cart, and by night they danced and made merry with potential suitors.

  When Gryphon voiced his concern about having women and children journeying to the camp with so much unsettled in the region, Laden had assured him that the southern passage was still safe to travel thanks to a rotating regime of Allied guards. “Besides,” he’d said, “we need to remind these men what they’re fighting for.”

  Gryphon impatiently scanned the crowd of Kodiak for Zo. She must have spotted him first, because she pushed her way between a wall of Kodiak and rushed toward him.

  “Gryphon!”

  His heart leapt into his throat as she jumped into him, wrapping her legs around his hips and burying her head into his neck. “I missed you!” she cried.

  Gryphon laughed and spun her around in a full circle, pulling her to him with probably too much force. He set her down but didn’t release her, planting a solid, delicious kiss on her forehead, his hands firm yet tender on her upper arms. “I missed you too, Zo.” She hovered there, her full lips taunting him, especially the bottom one. He longed to pull her away from all of the planned festivities and taste them properly.

  A hand on his shoulder killed the thought. He looked up into the terse face of Commander Laden and released his hold on Zo, taking a sheepish step back so Zo might greet the person closest she had to a father.

  That’s when he noticed the bear.

  Gryphon wasn’t used to looking up at anyone, but the Kodiak before him, outfitted with a long fur cape fastened in front by a single bear claw, stood a few inches taller than him. From massive shoulders hung thick arms covered in black ink. Black paint smeared beneath his eyes framed a wide nose with nostrils flaring as he studied Gryphon.

  Murtog, chief of the Kodiak.

  “Chief.” Laden stepped between Gryphon and the beast of a man, offeri
ng a slight bow and then a hand of welcome. “Thank you for joining us. Allow me to personally see you to your tent. We have men on hand prepared to get you settled before tonight’s celebration.”

  “This is the Ram I’ve heard so much about? Where are his chains?”

  Gryphon gritted his teeth, but Laden robbed him of the chance to answer.

  “He is a guest in my camp, Chief.” Laden didn’t feel the need to explain more, but lifted a hand to usher the chief and the long stream of men in his wake to the eastern portion of the valley, where Ikatou and the other Kodiak already camped. After briefly locking eyes with Gryphon, Murtog scowled and turned to follow Laden.

  Zo snaked her arm through his and whispered into his ear, “I think he likes you.”

  Her eyes danced with mirth and such flirtatious relief it made his heart double its speed and his stomach turn flips. She squealed as he wrapped her up by the knees and tossed her over his shoulder like a sack of grain.

  A few passing Kodiak eyed him with disdain, but he didn’t care. He’d never seen her so carefree, so unaffected by the troubles surrounding her. Ikatou’s bellowing laughter followed them as Gryphon ran her up the mountain, putting to shame any of the sprints he’d done that week. When he finally set her feet to the ground she grabbed two fistfuls of his shirt and pulled him against her until their lips met with the energy of a hundred battles.

  She had the terrifying power to alter him from trained, self-composed soldier to animal with just a look … a touch. How could he survive without her? Moreover, how could he leave her to meet Ajax and Chief Barnabas knowing there was a very real chance he might never return?

  “What’s wrong?” Zo released his imprisoned lips. She had read his emotions a lot since they reunited in the wilderness. Her healing abilities went beyond pushing emotion and healing energy, as before. Now, she seemed to take the emotional temperature, sampling the energy around her as one might sample a tray of desserts.

  “Is something troubling you?” Concern shown in the downward sloping lines of her face. Was it possible that she still doubted him? What would she think when she learned about the other mishaps of camp? Would she blame him for those too? The idea that she might not trust him hurt more than Ikatou’s fists.

  Her breath tickled his ear as her lips grazed the skin of his neck. “My blood oath is as good as fulfilled, Gryph. We’re together. Joshua and Tess are safe. Everything is finally working out.” A pause. “Isn’t it?” More concern. More uncertainty.

  “I missed you.” It was all Gryphon could manage.

  That earned him a tentative smile. Such a beautiful smile.

  He leaned in and captured her lips once more before pulling her close and resting his chin on her head. For all of his physical and tactical prowess, he never felt as powerful as he did when she was in his arms. But the exhilaration was cheapened by the monumental lie still separating them. Every time he allowed himself to think of a future life with Zo, Barnabas’s sneer pushed hope from his thoughts like a bird from its nest.

  A cool thread of peace washed over him, dampening his anxieties about the uncertain future.

  Zo again. Reading his fears. Healing him.

  “Thank you,” he said, kissing the top of her head once more.

  “Don’t thank me.” The light tone of her voice seemed forced. “Every healer charges a fee for her work.”

  “Oh really? And what is my fee?”

  “A dance at the festival.”

  Gryphon’s anxiety flared again, and Zo allowed herself to really laugh.

  “Relax!” She patted his chest. “There’s a first time for everything.”

  “Did you already comb your hair?” Zo asked. Tess’s hair was so fine that it was usually a nightmare to work through. Today there wasn’t a single tangle.

  “Yep.”

  The girl was growing up so fast. It wouldn’t be long before Tess wouldn’t need her so much. She remembered looking forward to that day, once. But the lines between sister and mother blurred so much in their relationship, and Zo couldn’t help the twinge of regret that time was passing so quickly.

  “Two more braids, and I promise not to touch a hair on your head for a full week!” said Zo, as she wrestled her little sister back into the chair. Zo tied off the final braids with a strip of cloth and connected them in the middle to rest as a blond crown upon her head. As a finishing touch, Zo tucked a few sprigs of lavender she’d harvested from Millie’s garden into the braid.

  “There.” She pushed the last stem through. “You’re perfect.”

  Tess hopped up, ready to run from the tent, but Zo caught her arm before she could dash out. “You know that I’m done, don’t you?”

  Rather than come right out and ask, Tess simply froze, staring at the tent wall—wanting to hear, but not wanting to appear too eager.

  Zo sighed. “Now that the Kodiak are here and Laden has the men he needs to fight this war, there’s nothing else the Allies need from me other than my work as a healer.”

  “You’ll find a reason to leave again,” said Tess. “You always do.”

  Zo pulled Tess around to face her, hands clasping the girl’s thin upper arms, eyes penetrating with promise. “I’m sorry for everything you’ve endured over the last few months, bug. But wasn’t it worth it to bring Joshua and Gryphon into our lives?”

  Tess blinked a few times and finally nodded, her gaze on the dirt floor.

  “From now on, wherever I go, you will always be with me.”

  Tess glanced up. “Promise,” she demanded. “Promise on the graves of our parents.”

  “Tess,” Zo exclaimed. “Don’t say such things.”

  The little girl folded her arms, causing the puffs of her sleeves to bunch and gather. “If you don’t promise, you don’t really mean it.”

  Insecure. Afraid. Uncertain. Agonizing need to feel comforted. Zo read her sister, and her heart broke.

  “I promise you, Tess. We will stay together until the day some man steals your heart and sweeps you away from me.”

  Zo stepped out of her tent, smoothing down the front of her skirt, already feeling a blush warm her cheeks. She wore the most impractical pair of shoes, the soft fabric hugging her feet like gloves. She’d pulled both the shoes and the elaborately embroidered skirt from the chest of possessions that used to belong to her parents. Millie said her mother had worn the dress to the Ostara where she first met Zo’s father, who had traded a whole cart of provisions for the right to court and marry her.

  The skirt, with its swirling patterns of floral clusters, hugged her waist and flowed down her legs until the hem barely kissed the ground. She wore a white blouse with a fitted leather jerkin over the top. It was strange to wear her mother’s clothing. In all of her memories, her mother was so much larger than her. To think that her mother was this size—her size—when she met and married her father amazed and even frightened Zo.

  She closed her eyes, and for a brief, unguarded moment, allowed her hopes to get the better of her. What if Gryphon and Laden had come to some kind of arrangement while she was gone? They’d certainly seemed on better terms, and Laden had done away with Gryphon’s guard. It was foolish to hope, but what if tonight—with her in the same dress that helped her mother secure her father—Gryphon finally asked her to be his forever?

  In the distance, a steady beating drum signaled to all the camp that the festivities were about to commence, as was tradition. Women and men filtered from their tents dressed in their best toward the training grounds, which had been turned into a proper meeting place for an Ostara. Carts lined the perimeter of the large open space, filled with foodstuffs and other wares. Oil lanterns hung from tall hooks staked into the ground before each cart and a massive bonfire roared in the center, leaving ample room for dancing. The carts would remain over the course of the next three days as goods were traded, supplies purchased, and young girls who’d come of age from all of the surrounding Wolf Packs were thorough
ly admired and courted.

  Zo looked around the field for a sight of Gryphon, Tess, or Joshua, and saw only a few familiar faces from the camp.

  Commander Laden beckoned her from his position on a dais constructed from wood at the head of the camp. He was joined by all of the clan leaders, with the addition of Gabe, who sat in deep conversation with Chief Naat. Raca was also there, sitting on the edge of her seat on the other side of her father. Her hair was pulled up off her neck into a series of elaborate knots and braids atop her head. Her fitted buckskin dress left her defined shoulders bare. Around her neck hung at least ten beaded and feathered necklaces. In all their time together, it was the first time Raca ever really looked the part of a Raven princess.

  Zo approached Raca first and offered her a small curtsy.

  “Oh, please. We’re beyond that.” She reached out and took Zo’s hand.

  “Have you spoken with him yet?” Zo asked, tilting her head in Murtog’s direction. The Kodiak chief sat on the opposite end of the dais with chin resting on fist as he surveyed the crowd. Raca had spent their entire journey from the Kodiak Caves avoiding the chief.

  “Not yet. He’s been busy, and I’m not sure he desires my company.”

  “Of course he does. The man left the Caves for you.”

  Raca swatted her arm. “Don’t say such things. He came because it was the right thing to do for his people.”

  Zo shrugged. No doubt Murtog was here for his people, but Raca had been the arrow to wake him from his mourning. Zo was sure of it.

  Without pomp or ceremony or speeches, the Wolf musicians began their music with a nod from the Wolf Alpha seated next to Laden. With the Wolves so spread out across the Valley of Wolves, the Alpha was more of a figurehead than an outright leader. The Wolves had long ago agreed to support the Allies, not on the Alpha’s word, but by vote from each pack. Still, it was tradition for the Alpha to signal the commencement of every Ostara.