Nameless by Jennifer Jenkins Page B

Gryphon noticed she walked closer to him in the dark confines of the cave. A bat swooped down and screeched at the intruding torchlight. The healer gasped and jumped into Gryphon’s side. His arm fell naturally around her. It was only a moment before she jerked away from him.
    “Sorry,” she mumbled.
    Gryphon couldn’t speak around the lump in his throat. Grateful for the darkness, he pressed on until he found the wall. “Hold this.” He handed the torch to the healer and pulled out an oil soaked cloth from his pack. He wrapped it around the end of another stick to create a second torch.
    “Switch with me.” Their hands brushed. The light cast harsh shadows across her face, if possible, making her look even more devious, even more beautiful.
    “Aren’t you going to light it?” she asked. The glass jars in her medical kit knocked against each other as she shivered.
    “Not yet.” There would only be one chance to witness the prisoner’s first reaction to the girl. He couldn’t afford to miss it. He trailed a hand along the wall until he saw him. The once proud warrior lay huddled in a ball on the floor. Thick chains ran out from the wall, connecting to clamps around his wrists. His eyes flashed opened but his body didn’t move beyond the even rise and fall of his chest.
    Gryphon stepped closer. “Before your arrow found my shoulder, I was blinded by a small, but strong burst of light.” Gryphon only assumed it was the other man’s arrow that bloodied him. “What was it?”
    The Wolf prisoner didn’t raise his head from the cold stone floor, but his lips stretched into a bloody smile. “Old trick.” He wheezed and coughed, sucking up dirt from the floor. His chains rattled with him.
    “They say you don’t speak.”
    “I do as I please.” He coughed some more. The man pushed himself into a sitting position. The pinky fingers on each hand were missing. The left side of his face was twice the size of his right. The eye was pinched shut.
    “Should I help him?” The healer spoke behind Gryphon’s shoulder.
    He held up a finger for her to wait.
    “Did you bring a woman?” The man laughed. The chains rattled as he put a mangled hand to his head. “I’ve been lying here for heaven knows how long, waiting for my next visitor ,” his words took on a biting edge, “and you bring me a woman?” He laughed again. “I swear, nothing will ever surprise me again.”
    Gryphon took the torch from the healer, lit it, and threw the spare to the prisoner. The man snatched it out of the air before it hit the wet ground. He squinted against the light as he used the wall to inch up to his feet.
    “What are you doing?” he asked.
    Gryphon stepped aside and yanked the healer into the light of his torch.
    The prisoner didn’t flinch. He didn’t even blink as he examined the girl. If Gryphon could trust his gut—something he never did well around the healer—the man’s lack of reaction spoke volumes.
    “I don’t think I understand,” the Wolf said. “Is she for me?”
    Gryphon kept a careful eye on him as he spoke. “In a way, yes. She’s a healer. I’ve brought her to tend to your injuries.”
    Zo shifted uncomfortably under Gryphon’s grasp.
    The prisoner exhaled. “Under normal circumstances I’d be disappointed. But today—” he lifted his deformed hand and sighed. “Today I prefer a healer.”
    Gryphon nodded for her to go to him. She looked up at Gryphon with wide eyes. He fought the urge to comfort her, to tell her he wouldn’t let the man harm her. He didn’t understand why she would be afraid of a Wolf, if she was one, too. Good acting or genuine fear, he couldn’t decide.
    The healer moved toward the man with careful steps. “I can treat you better if you sit.” Her soft, smooth voice carried a low echo around the cave. The hairs on Gryphon’s arms prickled.
    The tall Wolf studied her for a moment then slid down the rock to sit on the damp floor. Gryphon took the torch from him and