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About people who sacrificed their lives by carrying explosives on their chests to kill the enemy. Zo remembered moving as close to the fire as possible so not to miss a word. The concept of a person purposely giving their life for a war seemed too high a price to pay.
    That was when the candle of hope still burned inside her chest. Things were different now. After the raid, she found herself envying those souls who’d found freedom in death. This mission was supposed to be her perfect ending. Taking her own life had always seemed selfish. Dying for the Cause … that was noble.
    She’d never allowed herself to think about surviving this mission, but with Tess inside the Gate, the explosive was not strapped to Zo’s chest alone. She had to find a way to execute her assignment while keeping Tess alive.
    Zo packed up the bottles and snuffed out the low-burning candle. She passed Ann—still muttering gibberish—as she fumbled for the only door in the barracks.
    The cold wind cut through Zo’s thin, layered clothing as she crossed the main road and hiked into the thick shadows of the forest. At night it was easy to forget she was still within the fabled wall that separated Ram’s Gate from the rest of the region. The sickle moon provided little light as she approached the river. She hesitated for only a moment before tossing in the bottles. They were instantly absorbed in the black river that ran south under the great wall of the Ram. If these little bottles didn’t make it to Laden’s men at the dam, then she’d put Tess in danger for nothing.
    “Please let no one see them.” She spoke aloud, but only to herself. God died five years ago, the night her parents were murdered.

Chapter 7

     
     
    The sun streaming through the small window of the Medica was too bright. Gryphon pulled the pillow over his head and showed the window his back.
    “Wake up. Can’t you hear the bells?” said Joshua.
    For a sweet moment, Gryphon imagined sleeping until his body woke him, not some bell or horn. But the sound coming from the square wasn’t the usual wake-up call.
    Gryphon got to his feet and rubbed the sleep from his dark eyes. These nights with the kid were starting to wear on him. “It’s a little early for a prizefight, isn’t it?”
    Joshua stretched to look out the window from his bed. “It’s never too early for a prizefight!”
    Gryphon laughed without mirth. He’d never understood his clan’s fascination with sport killings. Where was the victory in defeating an untrained slave?
    “Aren’t you going to watch?” Joshua said.
    The bells beckoned everyone to witness the fight. It was Gryphon’s duty to watch the young Ram challenger take on the offending Nameless. It was said that the greatness of the crowd reflected the potential of the soldier. Still, Gryphon hesitated.
    Joshua got to his feet and with uneven steps walked to the door.
    “What do you think you’re doing?” said Gryphon.
    Before Joshua could take a step past the doorway, the young healer had him by the arm and was hauling him back to the bed. Gryphon found himself smiling in approval. She was tougher than her thin frame suggested.
    “You don’t understand, Zo.”
    Gryphon cringed at Joshua’s use of the girl’s name.
    “It’s a prizefight. It could be weeks before the next one.” Joshua struggled to escape her determined grasp.
    “I don’t care if you don’t see another fight in your life. You’re not leaving your bed until that wound is closed and the infection is purged.”
    Joshua’s lips jutted out in an exaggerated pout. “Talk to her, Gryph. Tell her I have to go.”
    A scratchy baritone voice filled the room. “What is the problem here?” Gate Master Leon stepped through the door.
    Gryphon moved in front of his open pack to hide the wooden eagle he’d spent the night carving. Ram didn’t typically waste time with such impractical things. Luckily, the Gate Master’s eyes were only for the healer. Gryphon cleared his