She was right when she said that she was not responsible for her birthright, only how she chose to deal with it. The same was true of anyone. He stroked his fingers through her damp ringlets, combing them away from her face.
Whatever the future brought, he sincerely hoped her two worlds, between them, did not destroy her.
Chapter Seven
Justice guided his hross through the first of the three mountain passes that led to the Temple of Immortal Right, the training ground of the Godseekers’ servants and protectors.
He wasn’t going to waste any more time searching for Raven so close to home. The whore would be brazen enough to approach the assassins in her search for sanctuary, believing Creed would help her. She had thrown the name in his face more than once. Justice was certain it was where she’d go, and he intended to close that venue of escape for her.
He could not shake his suspicion that the assassin Blade was now involved with her. Justice knew how tempting Raven could be, how potentially dangerous, and if she had the assassin helping her, he did not want to run into them on his own in the mountains. Therefore, accompanying Justice were two of his oldest and most loyal friends and companions, Cage and Might.
Cage, a thin and wiry man, was an expert at tracking. He believed Raven was not alone, confirming Justice’s suspicions regarding the cold-eyed assassin and that she was headed into the mountains.
The second man, Might, was a bald-headed, heavily tattooed giant. He straddled his broad-footed hross like a mountain balanced on a tabletop. His boots dangled bare inches above the rocky ground, forcing the animal beneath him to struggle despite its own impressive size, so that they had to stop for frequent rests.
They had been on the road for two days now. From this first pass, the men had a good view of the mountains as well as the valleys between them. Many of these valleys housed Godseeker-led settlements like his own, long dedicated to the mining of precious metals and the fabrication of jewelry and trinkets that had once pleased the goddesses. Over time, with their departure, mining production increased to include coins and various objects for trade.
The path Justice and his companions traveled was well worn by time but not often used anymore. So far, they had seen no one else.
Might drew his laboring mount to a halt and pointed a long, thick finger toward a valley ahead and slightly below them. A fine plume of dark-gray smoke spiraled lazily into the still, crisp morning air.
Justice and Cage reined in their hross beside him.
“It could be nothing,” Justice said, staring at the smoke, but he did not believe it. “We’ll check it out, just in case.”
It took them the rest of the morning to reach the settlement. Although juniper and pine were little more than scrub at this elevation and provided minimal concealment, wolven were known to hunt from many of the rocky nooks, crannies, and hidden crevasses. Caution was required.
As they approached the town, its emptiness soon became apparent. Abandoned buildings were all that greeted them. They rode through the narrow, cobbled streets, the hross becoming increasingly nervous in the eerie silence. The smoke they had observed from the mountain pass drifted from a smoldering pyre that had once been a temple to the goddesses. The smell wafting through the air was worse than anything Justice had ever experienced, and he pulled his neckerchief over his mouth and nose.
“Only demon fire could burn hot enough to do such a thing as this,” Cage said, his eyes flat and cold.
All three men glanced around, uneasy, but if it had been the work of demons, they were long gone. Something about this scene felt wrong to Justice. His amulet remained cold and dark, giving no warning of the presence of immortals, however residual. His attention fixed on the smoking remains of the temple, and he wondered if Raven were somehow responsible for this devastation.
He did not believe so. As much as he hated her for her arrogance and wanted her brought to her knees, he could not see her doing this. She had not been able to kill him when she’d had the chance but buried the knife in his leg rather than his heart.
Still, he could use this to his advantage. People believed her to be a demon. While no ability to use demon fire had ever been established, who was he to say whether or not Raven could raise it with absolute certainty?
“Demons are gone from the world,” he said. “Even if they weren’t, they couldn’t have traveled this far into lands the goddesses had claimed. Spawn are another matter. We have no idea what harm they can do. If this is any indication”—he swept his hand in a broad arc—“then it’s imperative the Godseekers take action against them.”
Might’s deep, gravelly voice rolled like a slow-moving rockslide from his throat as he, too, stared at the smoldering pyre. “Raven couldn’t have done such a thing. She’s little more than a girl.”
Justice narrowed his eyes in displeasure at his companion’s defensive comment. “On her own, most likely she couldn’t,” he said. “But she’s half demon. Who knows what her connection to them is? What she’s asked them to do, or what strength she draws from them?” He pushed a bit harder, planting more seeds of doubt regarding her innocence. “Why do you suppose these people were burned not three days after Raven was sentenced to the same fate?” He looked around them at the deserted streets. “How many more like her might there be amongst us, going undetected? Her mother was far from the only mortal woman to lie with a demon.”
Cage’s hross shied sideways beneath him, spooked by wind-driven debris tumbling past on the cobblestones. “Demons hate spawn,” he said, once he had his mount under control.
“They hate men, too,” Might replied.
“Demons or spawn, or a combination of the two, this isn’t a place I care to linger,” Justice said. What was important right now was to put as much distance between them and this travesty as possible, in case those responsible should happen to return. “We can’t help these people.”
He turned his mount around with a nudge of his knee and a tightening of the reins. A week on a hross would get them to the temple. Once there, he would enlist the aid of the assassins.
But no matter what, he would make certain Raven was brought back alive. Her mother had learned it was best not to defy him, and that was a lesson her daughter needed to be taught as well.
…
Raven awoke to a dry mouth, an aching head, and unfamiliar surroundings, but also with the certainty that this world was her own.
Daylight seeped through interwoven branches of fresh-cut, sharp-scented pinion. Someone—Blade—had constructed a crude shelter above her. From the front of the lean-to she could see jutting rock, spindly shrubs, and a sparkle of running water in a streambed. They were in the foothills, or very near them. A thin, scratchy blanket covered her, and everything hurt when she moved.
A rush of images flashed through her head. Her hands on his naked shoulders. His jaw clenched, head back and eyes closed, as he moved inside her.
Mortification seared her. Her demon had pursued and seduced him. She hoped he had not placed too much importance on that. In the boundary, to a demon, it meant little. Here, in the mortal world, it granted him legal rights over her if he chose to pursue them. It also meant Justice, a Godseeker, could charge him with theft if he did.
But they had not been intimate in this world. And in the boundary, it was her father whose claim on her she feared more than any other. It was best not to think about that.
She wondered how she could face Blade, how she should react. Maybe they would simply pretend that nothing had happened.
That was her preference. If he did not mention it, neither would she.
She must have made a noise. A long shadow fell across the opening of the shelter, and Blade’s head and shoulders appeared to block out the light.