Blade had selected a plain wooden chair by the door and sat silently in it. The other men remained equally uncommunicative, allowing Laurel to speak for them.
“We’ll have to scavenge what we need,” Laurel said. “The men and I can get in and out of villages unobserved. But I’d hate to steal from neighbors and draw attention to us.”
“If we have to steal to survive, then that’s what we’ll do,” Blade said. “We won’t take any more than we need and never too much from any one place. We’re not going to take from people who might go hungry because of theft.”
“If we all work together, we’ll make it through the winter,” Raven said. “There are only six of us. No one will miss what we take if we’re careful. In the spring, maybe we can repay them somehow.”
“How would we do that?” one of the men asked. “More importantly, why would we want to? What have the people in the Godseeker Mountains ever done for spawn?” He sounded tired and bitter, and Raven couldn’t blame him. No one had stepped up to help her when she’d needed it most, either. Except for Blade.
He was not helping her now, however.
“We aren’t going to prove anyone right about us,” Raven said. “We’re going to live our lives the way we know we should. The goddesses may not favor us, but we don’t need their guidance. Decency isn’t something that only they can teach.” She spoke to Blade. “What if the mines are still workable, but on a smaller scale? Would it be worth our while to settle here for a few years, perhaps even permanently? It’s not as if we have anywhere else to go. We can’t run forever.”
“Four men can’t work these mines,” Blade said.
Raven was not deterred by his pessimism. “Roam could bring more,” she reminded him.
“The Temple of Immortal Right is in our backyard,” Blade said. “This isn’t a place where more than a few spawn can live in peace for any length of time. Remaining here undetected for the winter is going to be difficult enough for the six of us, and even then it’s unlikely.”
“We can’t go undetected forever no matter where we are,” Raven said. “It’s inevitable that people like us will begin to band together. What we need are neighbors who’ll become allies.”
“Allies, here?” the third man said. He settled back in his chair, clasping his hands behind his head. “I don’t believe it’s possible.”
At least the men had all found something they could agree on, because none of them thought it likely. Even Laurel appeared skeptical, so Raven did not pursue it.
That did not mean she had given up. If people with demon blood wished to survive in the mortal world, they would have to learn to live peacefully with everyone else. She had said she would offer help to all mortals who needed it, half demon and non-demon alike, and she meant to keep her word.
She could do nothing about her own demon blood. She could, however, do what she knew to be right and encourage others to do the same.
…
The death of their leader was a shock to the temple’s residents even though he was an old man. They were suspicious as to the manner in which it transpired.
And this meeting with Siege’s replacement was not going as Justice had planned. The second-in-command was not so young as to be unseasoned, and not old enough to remember the extent to which Godseekers should be respected. He also appeared to be well informed as to the regard Siege had held for Justice. His manner was not as deferential as Justice would have liked, particularly from someone so inferior to him.
They sat in the library, Justice in front of the heavy desk, while the young assassin named Armor occupied Siege’s chair as if already accustomed to it. It seemed Siege had prepared for all eventualities, even down to choosing his own replacement, and he trained his men well.
The young man had pale, lashless eyes that rarely blinked and thin hair so colorless it gave an illusion of transparency.
“We’re supposed to take the word of a woman with no known origin for what happened to two of our men,” Armor said to Justice. “One of whom was our leader.”
“No,” Justice replied. “I expect you to take my word, not hers.” He was not used to being questioned, particularly by someone so young and inexperienced, and it irritated him almost as much as Siege’s opposition had. At least he and Siege had held a similar standing.
This boy was nobody.
Armor’s polite attitude gave nothing away as to what he was thinking. “I’m sure your word is good. However, Siege issued a request for neighboring Godseekers, ones I know very well, to come here and help plan a course of action, and I don’t intend to countermand that. We’ll wait for their input on the circumstances surrounding Siege’s death, too.”
“While you wait, the spawn responsible for the deaths of two trained assassins will escape.” Justice met the arrogant youth’s pale eyes with a cold stare of his own. “If you won’t help me, I’ll go after my stepdaughter myself. When I return, you can answer to the Godseekers for your lack of support.”
Armor frowned, and Justice knew he had won this first confrontation.
The acquiescence was grudging. “I’ll give you four men.”
Four was not the number Justice had requested, but it would have to do. Someday, this disrespectful young nobody would answer for opposing him.
“Very well,” Justice said. “I have several in mind. I’ll speak with them now.”
He started to rise, but the assassin waved him back, so he reclaimed his seat. He swung one knee over the other with ill-contained impatience and regarded the toe of his boot, waiting for more unwelcome news.
“There’s no need for you to speak with anyone,” Armor said. “I’ll choose your companions for you. There’s one more small matter, however.” He steepled his fingers. “The woman stays here.”
“To create more trouble among the men than we had this morning?” Justice asked. “No. I don’t think that’s wise.”
Armor dropped his hands to rest on the desk’s gleaming surface. All of Siege’s books and mounds of papers had been removed sometime between midmorning and the dinner hour, leaving it stripped bare of any telltale indicators as to the new owner’s personality.
Suddenly uneasy, Justice wondered if this young nobody might prove even more dangerous than his aged mentor.
“You think it’s wiser to send a beautiful woman who may or may not be spawn into the mountains with five men? Particularly when two men have died in her presence already today?” The young assassin leader leaned forward, his thin lips pressed in a flat, implacable line that made Justice’s blood turn to ice in his veins. “No. She stays here.”
Justice was left with few options. To take Willow with him now meant he would have no other allies. So did he want her with him, or did he want four trained assassins?
Four trained assassins were no match for a spawn who could summon a demon. His choice was Willow.
“I promised her safety,” Justice said. “Therefore, she stays with me, and under my protection. If you won’t send the four assassins with us, I’ll understand. I hope the other Godseekers will too, when they hear of this.”
He nodded to the young assassin, rose, then left the library to prepare for the journey deeper into the mountains.
To the boundary.
…
He and Willow passed through the gates early the following morning, their departure unremarked upon. No one saw them off or wished them well.
Justice had saddled two hross, both his and Cage’s, but Willow rode with him because he did not trust her. The other animal, he loaded with provisions.