He was not letting the day go to waste, however.
She positioned her feet, adjusting her posture to account for the uneven ground and her small stature. Using both hands, she grasped the sword he had found for her in the village.
She had more bruises from his instruction than she wished to think about, but she enjoyed the fact he did not hold back as they sparred. It had been the same way with Creed. While neither man tried to injure her, they saw no benefit in teaching her to defend herself by sowing false confidence either.
Blade eyed her form critically. “You’re too small to try to stroke downward against me. How do you think you should compensate for that?”
She took aim at his knee, but he blocked her sword easily with a deft anticipation of the move.
“Very good. But don’t let me see what you intend to do. And go for the hamstrings, like this.” He demonstrated with fluid movements far more graceful than hers. “You want to incapacitate your opponent as quickly as possible. Once he’s down, you have to kill him. Don’t overthink it. Don’t hesitate. A wounded adversary is a desperate one.”
Despite the chill in the air, a trickle of sweat rolled from Raven’s hairline and down the nape of her neck. Blade had worked her hard all morning.
Brooding eyes met hers. As always, a thrill of excitement slithered through her when he looked at her with so much concentrated intensity. Although he continued to hold her against him in the night, he had not touched her intimately since before they came across the village. Emotionally he had distanced himself, and the knowledge left her bereft. He had said he was not afraid of the demon in her. While he might not fear it, it was plain that he did not welcome or accept it either.
She allowed the tip of her sword to greet the ground and wrapped her fingers around its pommel. “I won’t hesitate,” she said.
“Killing a man isn’t the same as killing a demon,” he said.
She shrugged. “A threat is a threat.”
“There are varying degrees. What if the threat comes from a man who believes he’s defending himself and his property? What if it’s based on ignorance, not malice?”
“All I have to do is believe the threat is real. Regret will have to come later.”
“You should put some thought into dealing with the regret when it does come,” Blade advised. “Because it will.” He took her sword from her, sheathing both it and his.
Raven gazed across the craggy spread of mountains and valleys, to the distant desert far beyond. He was right in some ways, but wrong in others. Killing demons and killing men were the same things to her.
The first flakes of snow brushed her cheek as she continued to take in the landscape. With the approaching storm she was grateful Blade had insisted they take what they needed from the village. The thick clothing and sturdy, well-fitting boots were welcome and would become even more so in the next few days when the snow piled up. She had not been able to resist taking a few more feminine pieces, too. Her mother had raised her to appreciate beauty and fine craftsmanship, even in fashion, and the artisan in her could no more be denied than the demon.
Despite having lived in the desert for the past ten years, Blade seemed to remember the layout of the broad mountain range very well. They had been moving farther and higher into it, crossing no other towns, and Raven could only assume he avoided them on purpose.
Blade looked at the heavy sky. “Take the corner of the tarpaulin. We’re going to need better shelter than we had last night.”
She grasped the heavy canvas and helped fasten it more securely around a deep shelf of rock, creating a roomy, artificial cave. Once that was accomplished, they moved their belongings inside.
“When will we reach the assassins’ temple?” she asked as Blade stacked the supply of deadwood they had gathered against one outer wall of their shelter.
They stood on the leeward side of the rising wind, but although they were protected from the worst of it, already it howled around the mountain so that they had to raise their voices to be heard.
He took his time answering her. “Does it matter?”
“Winter’s coming. The sooner I find Creed the better,” Raven said.
Blade dropped the last armful of wood on the pile. “Have you given any thought as to what helping you will mean for him?”
The cold bit through her clothing. Had she really not thought about the impact on Creed if he took on her problems? Raven passed a hand over her face. Her friend had never feared anything or anyone, but their world in Goldrush under Justice’s rule had been a very small one. She no longer knew what challenges he faced. She felt as if a great trap were about to be sprung, and she could find no way to avoid it.
Blade’s eyes remained thoughtful on her. “Justice may have already discovered that he has greater troubles than you. He’ll have to head out of the mountains soon or be trapped here. We could find that village Roam spoke of—you could stay there, at least for the winter. By spring, Justice will have forgotten about you, or no longer care.”
She had known Blade did not plan to stay with her forever—she would always be spawn and he would never forget that—but even so, the disappointment hit her hard. Because if Blade, who feared so little, could not look past her demon blood, how could she expect it of anyone else?
Despite her disappointment, his suggestion was tempting. Many of the passes would be inaccessible during the winter months, and she could have that period as a respite from running.
She pushed the temptation away. Justice did not like to lose. He would want her captured or dead before winter set in completely, and she could not bring that trouble on Roam and the others. They already faced the same obstacles she did. They did not need this one thrust on them.
“I’d be bringing Justice to their door, and that,” she said, “I’d really regret.”
Blade drew another canvas tarpaulin over the pile of deadwood to protect it from the weather. He rubbed his hands together, then tucked them under his arms for warmth. His cheeks had reddened from the cold, and the snow fell faster in soft, thick flakes that quickly coated his dark hair and lashes. The sky was now completely obscured, with no visibility at all beyond their small encampment.
He did not contradict her as she had secretly hoped he might. Nor did he suggest he stay the winter, too, and offer his added protection to both her and the others. Of course he would not.
“I’d like to speak with your friend Creed,” Blade said, his brow creasing as if he were deep in thought. “If the assassin trainers were to ally with Roam and the others, they could use them to hunt whoever or whatever destroyed that village.”
She could not quite hide her surprise at his suggestion, but the more she thought about it, the more enthusiastic she became. She had already considered joining the assassins. He offered her one more reason for why it might work.
“Creed’s very persuasive. He could convince the trainers to teach us to fight,” she said.
Although Blade’s expression did not reveal his reaction she could sense his displeasure, and was unsure of the cause. This had been his suggestion, not hers.
“That’s not what I meant. They won’t train spawn to fight. Roam can track the spawn and lead the assassins to them. That’s what would be most useful to the Godseekers—and you don’t have that ability. You’d be nothing to them.” He dusted the gathering snow from his arms, then reached for his crossbow. “Get inside the shelter. I’m going to take one last look around to make certain we won’t have any unwelcome visitors before this storm blows over.”