hair-thin strands of metal. But it couldn’t be metal, because as Gryphon tried to break the Lion’s Silk, the woven strands held strong. “Magic?” Gryphon asked, still trying to break the strands. He’d heard about the Raven and their mystical practices.
“Resourcefulness,” corrected Gabe.
For some reason, Gabe never looked Gryphon in the eye anymore—not since they escaped the Gate together. Was it possible that Gabe blamed him for what happened to Zo? The injustice of the thought made Gryphon want to break the Wolf’s nose.
Across the gap, a massive rope ladder with boards stacked along the frame lifted off the face of the island wall, pulled higher and higher as the Raven heaved on the Lion’s Silk. It had to be more than fifty yards in length, with no hand railings to help support the flimsy frame. When the rope ladder stretched horizontally between the island and the tree platform, the Raven tied off the silk around a thick branch.
Without preamble, the feathered men walked, one by one, across the gaping divide to the island. The ladder gradually slanted upward to the island. Since there were no railings, they held their arms out wide for balance as they crossed the treacherous catwalk hundreds of yards above the ocean. The fall would kill them; there was no question. But they were graceful in their steps—so confident that Gryphon had to wonder if they thought, like their namesake, they could fly to the island.
Craw slapped Gryphon on the shoulder, startling him. “I hope you’re ready, little lamb. It’s your turn.”
Two strangers stepped from the shadows. It was just light enough to see the feather necklaces and the paint smeared on their already dark skin. They kept a safe distance from Zo and the others, holding up their hands to show they held no weapons.
“We saw the smoke of your fire,” said a man whose face was cast in shadow.
The young woman at his side stepped forward. Her skin was the same warm tone as her companion’s. Her eyes slanted just enough to make her look exotic. “We’re tired from traveling and hoped you’d have news of the clans.”
Zo jumped in, before Joshua or Eva spoke and gave away their Ram accents. “Who are you?” It was customary for the intruder to make the first introductions.
The two figures took a couple of steps forward to let the lingering light of the fire embers touch their faces. The man was smaller than the Ram and Wolves, but his lean form was still potentially dangerous. His dark eyes swept over the camp and settled on Zo. His head was shaved at the sides, leaving a stripe of black hair down the center. The woman at his side let her hands hang casually from the strap of her pack. Though she was even smaller, and her lips fuller, the resemblance between the two was unmistakable.
“I am Talon and this is my twin sister, Raca. We are traveling home to the Raven after a long journey south.”
Zo wondered if they came from the Allied Camp but didn’t want to reveal too much about her knowledge of Commander Laden and the Allies. Enemies of the cause would kill for that kind of information—especially the Ram.
The Raven girl called Raca hitched up her pack and smiled. “We usually avoid smoking fires, but I made Talon stop when I saw your group. It isn’t every day you find other women outside of the protection of a clan.”
Talon took another step forward. “We mostly just wanted to make sure you were all right.”
Zo looked to Eva, who shook her head from right to left. “No,” she mouthed, while keeping a firm hold on both of her knives. Joshua was more relaxed, looking to Zo for his cue to attack. His confidence in her was terrifying. No matter their talks of assets and liabilities; in that moment it was clear that they all saw her as their leader. A poor decision.
Zo had no other choice but to follow her gut instinct. If these people were Raven then they needed to know about the Ram’s plans to attack their
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