Creed had the highest respect for Siege and his fairness. He also had a great fear for Raven, because she was indeed what Justice claimed her to be.
He walked a fine line at the moment.
“Justice hated her mother, and Raven looks very much like her,” Creed said. He could not hold back a faint smile. “Although Raven has a great deal more spirit, as her circumstances should indicate.”
“What happened to the mother?”
“Justice says she died in her sleep. Raven claims he beat her and she died of internal bleeding.”
“Becoming a favorite was a mixed blessing for men such as Justice.” Siege passed a hand over his eyes and sighed as if weary. “It gave them standing with other men. With the goddesses, however, they were always servants. Male whores, some people called them, and men like Justice still take out their resentment of that on mortal women.” All at once Siege looked very old to Creed. “Unless the girl’s a doctor, she has no way of proving her allegations against him. Even if she could, Justice didn’t break any laws.”
“No.”
But Creed had loved Columbine, and he loved Raven, too. He could do nothing for her mother, but he would help Raven. The laws Siege spoke of were in need of change. They had been created by men who took out their bitterness on anyone weaker than themselves.
Siege was frowning as he stared at Creed. “I’d like you to wait at least a day after the storm ends before setting out. Find some tasks in the temple that need completing. I’d like to see how impatient Justice is to find her. If he complains about the delay, I’ll remind him that once an assassin is given a task, how he completes it is up to him.”
Creed did not want to wait any longer than necessary. He, too, was anxious to find Raven—which led him to wonder if, perhaps, it was his own patience that was being tested.
He assured Siege he had several important matters to attend to before he could leave the temple. Then he excused himself and returned to the smithy.
Raven was tough and resourceful.
He decided to wait two days, not one, before setting out.
…
It was two full days before the storm ended.
Several times, Blade had been forced outside to ensure they were not buried alive, or that their makeshift chimney did not plug with packed snow and suffocate them in their sleep.
Two days trapped inside together had been no hardship for him. Long periods of silence did not trouble Raven, and she knew a number of small games to play in which to pass the time. Between them, they had mended and cleaned the clothing and equipment they carried. He told her of the saloon he once owned in Freetown and of the world beyond the mountains she had never seen. In return, she told him of the jewelry she crafted. He had most likely seen pieces of it in the Freetown market and paid no attention, but he would look for it in the future. She had a particular identifying mark she made in her pieces. She smiled often and easily, and he enjoyed holding her against him as he watched over her while she slept. He would miss her when the time came for them to part.
It would come too soon.
The morning of the third day dawned bright and crisp and sharp. Jagged mountain peaks, steeped in white, thrust upward through a bed of intense blue sky. Peering from the drawn-back flaps of the shelter, Raven’s eyes widened. The tip of her nose reddened in the sere cold.
“Beautiful,” she breathed.
Blade had viewed the pristine drifts piled around them as nothing other than an impediment to travel but found that her perspective, and wonder, helped him see unexpected pleasure in the world. He inhaled fresh air and let his breath out slowly.
The Temple of Immortal Right, if he remembered correctly, was a half-day’s walk from here. The fallen snow would lengthen that time. But while the snow might slow his progress, the aggressive winds would help wipe away his footprints.
He had already decided that Raven would not accompany him any farther. There was too great a chance that Justice anticipated her arrival at the temple, knowing she would go looking for Creed. And while getting into the temple alone would not be a problem for Blade, exiting it alive was of significant concern. The best solution was to leave Raven here where she was warm and secure and bring Creed to her. She had not dreamed of the demon boundary in days and would be alone for one night only.
He did not want her with him for another reason. If he was not satisfied that Creed could dissuade her from training, then he would not relinquish her to him. He had meant it when he said he would do whatever it took to protect her.
He did not yet know what he might have to do.
Raven was not pleased when she was unable to change his decision to leave her behind. The pleading in her eyes almost swayed him, but he was coming to know her too well. She was not afraid for herself. She worried for him, and it was unnecessary. But that didn’t mean he was not warmed by her concern. He simply had no intention of allowing it to stop him.
He fastened his coat, rolling the collar high at the back of his neck to ward off the wind, and checked his weapons.
“If you have reason to believe that Creed might not welcome me, tell me now,” he said.
“He’ll do everything he can to help me.”
She sounded so confident that Blade was perhaps a little jealous of her faith in her friend, but he buried his reaction as unimportant compared to what needed to be achieved.
“Tell me what he looks like,” he said.
She rubbed her nose with one knitted glove, making its tip even redder. “Big. As tall as you, but broader. He has hair the color of mine, and he wears it short to hide the curl. There’s a thin, straight scar beside his left ear that runs to his jaw, but you have to look for it. It’s hardly noticeable.” She smiled at him, her eyes sparkling with fun. “He’s also very handsome.”
Her own short, black, shining ringlets poked out from under her hood to frame her face, glistening like newborn lamb’s wool in the blinding sun. Blade stroked a finger down her cheek, tucking back some of the wayward curls. If he allowed Creed to assume responsibility for her safety, this could very well be the last time he got to touch her.
He did not kiss her, although he wanted to. “Can you give me a message for him? Something that only the two of you could know?”
Raven looked thoughtful. “Tell him the knife he gave me served a good purpose.”
He did not need to question the message’s meaning. Her stepfather limped for a reason.
“It will be late morning or early afternoon tomorrow before I return,” he warned her. “Keep my crossbow handy at all times. If you hear any noise, anything at all before then, don’t waste time on finding out what it is. Shoot it.”
She nodded.
While he disliked encouraging her to kill, the thought of what might happen to her if she did not was far worse. He remembered the way the assassin had looked at her. At some point, Blade feared that her demon self-defenses would fail her when she needed them most. He did not like to think of her fate if they did.
He dipped his head so their eyes were at the same level. “I mean it, Raven. There’s nothing, and no one, up here that will be friendly. If you hesitate to shoot to kill again, you could be the one who ends up dead.”
“I won’t,” she promised. Then she reached toward her neck and removed her amulet, untangling it from her curls. Standing on her toes, she slipped it over Blade’s head and tucked it inside his clothing. She seized the front of his coat in both hands and lifted herself enough to press her mouth against his.
The amulet still retained heat from her skin, its warmth radiating through his chest as flashes of her thoughts flared into his mind. They were jumbled, intense and complex, but one was foremost.