Death Sworn (18 page)

“Why did they attack us?” she asked.

“My guess,” Arkim said, “is that we got the attention of the imperial sorcerers.” He smiled at her, as if the two of them were part of the same
we
. “The master chooses his targets well, as always. The Empire can feel us closing in. They’re afraid.”

His hand was still out. Ileni took it and let him pull her to her feet, then swayed for a few seconds before holding herself steady. “What will we do?”

“The master will know what to do. But I suspect he’ll say there’s no need to do anything. The wards held and will continue to hold. The Empire might send soldiers next, but that’s a losing gambit—these caves can withstand a siege for years, and the mountains are full of perfect ambush points.” He let go of her hand. “This is your room, yes?”

Ileni looked at the thick wooden door. “Yes.”

“I can’t open it,” Arkim said patiently. “You’ll have to do that.”

Of course. Because of the wards. The wards . . . Ileni spun away from the door, and winced as the corridor tilted. “I have to check the wards! Around the caves—”

“You have to sleep first. Then you’ll do your part.”

She turned again and pushed the door open. Arkim waited in the doorway until she had lowered herself onto her bed.

“Make sure to close the door all the way,” she said. But she couldn’t keep her eyes open to make sure he had done it.

Her part,
he had said.
Her part.
Because she was one of them, a piece of the master’s plan, helping to bring the Empire down.

To destroy it.

Despite the pain ricocheting through her head, she was smiling when she fell asleep.

Ileni woke a long time later—how long, she didn’t know, but her mind felt clear and she was starving. The back of her head was still tender, and she winced when she touched it, but her fingers came away dry.

She had no trouble finding the dining cavern and was relieved to discover that it was time for breakfast. She had never been so happy to see porridge in her life.

The cavern was full, but Sorin’s seat was empty. So was Irun’s. Still finding out what the master wanted them to do?

When she walked into her class, she was faintly surprised to see the rest of her students sitting in their usual neat rows, backs ramrod straight. Shouldn’t the Empire’s attack change everything? Instead of going through their usual routine, they should be preparing for war.

But of course, that was exactly what they were doing. What they were always doing.

For the first time, she felt guilty as she led her students through a series of pointless meditations. They were fighting for something, these young men she trained day after day. They were hurting the Empire. And instead of helping them, she was holding them back.

And meanwhile, all her people did was sit around recounting stories of cruelty and singing sad songs about martyrs.

We are preparing to take them on.
She had known that since she was a child, had the Empire’s destruction as her focus all her life. But suddenly that promise seemed distant and hollow.
Someday we will be free
was the ending chant of every Renegai class, but nobody ever seemed to question when
someday
would become
now
.

For these boys, burning bright and fierce, someday
was
now. They would make the Empire pay with blood and anguish, and they would do it while the Renegai practiced wards and healing spells for the millionth time.

When the lesson was over, she held up a hand to stop the students from rising. “Where are Sorin and Irun?”

No one answered. She focused on one of the weaker students, a tall boy with curly black hair. “Do you know?”

“No,” he said.

A chill ran through her. “Were they . . . are they on missions?”

“We. Don’t. Know,” he said patiently.

But Ileni did know. She turned away quickly, before her students could see her expression.

I’m sure he has a response already planned.
And the assassins had only one response. People would die, out in the Empire, to punish them for this attack.

And Sorin would be one of the assassins administering the punishment.

He was gone.

Chapter 16

I
leni ate barely two bites of her lunch—the porridge from breakfast felt like rocks lodged in her stomach—before she made her way to the knife-training cavern. Some small part of her hoped, idiotically, that Sorin would be there waiting. But of course he wasn’t. She had slept for half a day and a night. He was long gone by now.

He might die, out in the Empire, far away.

But first he would kill someone. That should have bothered her more.

She stood before the racks of gleaming blades. Those on the left were the poisoned ones. She reached out, daring herself to touch one.

Her fingers brushed the cold edge of a hilt, and she jerked her hand back. She thought she heard movement and looked over her shoulder. No one was there.

She reached for the knife again, her heart speeding up, fear and excitement pouring into the gaping hole inside her. It felt . . . not good, exactly. But sharp enough to pierce the dull ache of Sorin’s absence. She let her fingers brush the hilt again, closer to the blade.

Was
this
why the assassins were eager to kill? Because of the thrill that came when death was so close?

A hand closed around her upper arm and jerked her away, flinging her back. Fear exploded through her, suddenly not thrilling at all. She staggered and whirled.

“What are you
doing
?” Sorin demanded.

Her heart thudded hard against her chest. He stood just a few yards away from her, lean and handsome in his gray clothes. His face was grim.

“I thought . . .” The words came out in a barely audible whisper. She cleared her throat, tried again. “Where were you?”

“Checking the impact of the attack. The master told me to inspect the far reaches of the caves.” Sorin let out a long, shuddering breath. “He knew, Ileni. He knew I had explored all of them. All this time, I thought it was my one secret. But he always knew.”

Ileni didn’t know what to say to that. She couldn’t focus on it, and she couldn’t stop smiling, even though she knew it wasn’t appropriate. Sorin was
here
. He wasn’t leagues away. He was right in front of her. “I thought . . . I thought you would be sent on a mission.”

“So did I,” Sorin said.

He
wasn’t smiling.

Ileni felt her own smile drop off her face, vanishing along with her joy. Apparently, she was the only one happy that he wasn’t gone.

But she took in his clenched jaw and hunched shoulders, and a surge of real pity took her by surprise. “I’m sorry,” she said. “You must hate being stuck here.”

Sorin’s mouth tightened. “What I want is not important. If the master says I serve best within these caves, that is where I should be.” He gestured at the rack of blades. “What are you doing with those knives? You shouldn’t touch them.”

She lifted an eyebrow. “There are a lot of things I shouldn’t do.”

He turned and looked at her, but instead of leaning in, or even raising an eyebrow back, he walked past her and drew one of the unpoisoned blades. “I want to show you backward throws.”

Ileni wasn’t about to be sidetracked that easily. “What did the master have to say about the Empire’s attack?”

“Nothing.”

“You mean, nothing you can tell me.”

Sorin turned and threw. The blade thudded into the heart of the one target Ileni still couldn’t bring herself to practice on—the child-sized one. The cloth figure thudded back against the stone wall. “Of course that’s what I mean.”

Ileni wanted to ask if Sorin had told the master about Karyn, or about the two of them . . . but somehow, she didn’t dare.

I’ll keep you safe.
But could Sorin actually be in the master’s presence and hide anything from him? Ileni didn’t think
she
could.

Sorin closed his eyes briefly, then turned to her. “I’m sorry, Ileni. It’s just . . . the master had nothing to say to me. He didn’t speak to me at all. He had Arkim give me my task.”

Ileni stepped forward, hesitantly, and put a hand on his arm, feeling the tightness of his muscle. Like he wanted to hit something. “Maybe because there was nothing to discuss. The attack doesn’t change anything, really.”

“Maybe.” Sorin wouldn’t meet her eyes. “Or maybe he’s disappointed in me. And he doesn’t . . . doesn’t trust me anymore.”

No need to ask why. Maybe there was another secret the master knew.

Ileni dropped her hand. Sorin didn’t move, but his throat convulsed.

What could she say? Guilt and anger tangled up in her. Ileni took a deep breath.

“I know who killed Absalm and Cadrel,” she said.

Sorin’s head snapped up, and his face changed, the intensity in his eyes suddenly focused. “Who?”

“Karyn.”

“Karyn? But . . . how?”

“She wasn’t just a spy.” Ileni met his eyes, and warm relief spread through her when he didn’t avoid her gaze. But she didn’t quite dare touch him again. “She’s a sorceress.”

She meant to explain how she knew, but Sorin just nodded. He must assume she had sensed Karyn’s power.

And why
hadn’t
she, back at their first meeting? She should have. Even with barely any power of her own, she should have recognized the feel of magic. Ileni frowned, suddenly less sure.

But Sorin was looking at her like she was someone to reckon with, not just a source of guilt and shame. He drew another dagger from the rack and ran his finger along its edge. “Why would Karyn be killing Renegai sorcerers?”

“Because you’ve been going after
their
sorcerers,” Ileni said. “The emperor must think the Renegai tutors are helping you do it. So of course he wants to remove us.”

Sorin’s fingers clenched around the knife hilt. “Then why didn’t Karyn kill you when she had the chance?”

“I don’t know.” Or had she tried? Maybe Karyn’s offer of escape would have ended with Ileni’s corpse floating down the river.

Like Absalm’s corpse. Had Karyn made
him
the same offer? Had Absalm been trying to go home?

Sorin threw the knife into the air and caught it by the blade. “So the Empire attacked the day after their sorceress escaped? That can’t be coincidence. She must have used magic to send them a message. This was revenge.”

“No,” Ileni said. “An attack like that couldn’t be prepared in a day. They must have had it waiting. It was their backup plan.” She stopped, thinking hard. Sorin flipped the knife again, this time to hold it by the hilt. “Whatever Karyn was doing, that was their first plan. She must have communicated to them, somehow, that it hadn’t worked, so they tried the attack.”

“Which failed,” Sorin pointed out, a bit smugly. “So Karyn will come back and try to finish whatever she was here to do.”

She’s not an assassin. She’s allowed to give up.
But remembering Karyn’s steadiness as she dumped her friend’s body into the river, Ileni didn’t believe it. A chill ran through her. Karyn
would
be back. An imperial sorceress could easily float a canoe upriver.

And
what she was here to do
was kill Renegai.

“We have to find her,” Ileni said.

Sorin lowered the knife, his arm tightly knotted. “Why would we do that? To make it easier for her?”

“No, but . . .” Ileni resisted the urge to reach for a knife of her own. “All this time, I’ve known someone was going to kill me, and there was nothing I could do about it. Now I know who it is. I don’t have to wait for the knife in my back. If we find her, take her by surprise—”

Sorin shook his head. “It’s a stupid idea. We can take precautions—”

“And wait to find out how they’re going to fail?” Ileni dug her nails into the sides of her legs. “She’s an imperial sorceress. You can’t possibly defend me against her. And I can’t do this anymore, Sorin. I can’t wait to die, not knowing when, or why, or how. I have to face it. I need to know the truth about what’s going on.”

“And I need you to be safe.”

His voice broke, just for a moment. Ileni remembered the tightness of his arms around her, the plea in his eyes when he asked her why she wasn’t dead.

She softened her voice. “Please, Sorin. I can’t do it without your help.”

“Good,” he said flatly.

She brushed his fingers with hers, watching his cheeks turn faintly red. “I’m going to try anyhow. If you help, you can keep me safe.”

“Don’t.” He jerked his fingers away and stepped back. “You’re not very good at this.”

Ileni felt blood rush to her own face, and she turned around so he wouldn’t see. He was right, she wasn’t. She wished that she had more practice in working her wiles. Or even that she knew what, exactly, those were. She had never needed to be cajoling or coy with Tellis. This thing with Sorin was something entirely different. It made her feel like she was walking on a knife’s edge, like her breath was permanently stuck in her throat.

Tellis had made her feel safe. Sorin made her feel like being inches away from death was worth it.

“So you won’t help me.” She didn’t bother to hide her anger. Anger felt a lot better than guilt or shame.

“I
am
helping you.”

“Are you? Remind me to thank you later.” She started toward the door.

“Ileni—”

“Don’t follow me,” she said fiercely, without turning back, and told herself she wasn’t disappointed when he obeyed.

The next morning, after class, Ileni gathered her courage and approached Bazel. She had been avoiding him until then, trying not to address him unless she had to. Every time she accidentally met his eyes, she sensed a banked hatred in them, a sullen viciousness more disconcerting than Irun’s openly threatening glare. But that didn’t matter anymore. If Sorin wasn’t going to help her, she needed somebody who would.

She felt Sorin’s eyes on her as she walked over to Bazel’s mat. But she didn’t falter, and Sorin filed out of class along with the others.

“We should,” she said, “resume your lessons.”

Bazel looked at her across his mat, and she realized her mistake: she should have summoned him to her, demanded obedience, rather than going to him like a supplicant. His hatred was no longer banked. He looked at her like she was a worm that had slimed its way up his leg.

Luckily, the training cavern had emptied. She forced her shoulders straight. “You blame me for what happened, don’t you?”

His mouth formed a straight, ugly line before he turned his back on her. “Can you think of someone else I should blame?”

“What if you could see Karyn again?”

Bazel whirled, with a controlled grace that made her tense for an attack. But he merely shook his head. “You expect me to help you draw her back? So you can capture and torture her?”

“I don’t care about her,” Ileni said. “I just want to find out why Absalm brought imperial spies into these caves.”

Bazel adjusted his stance, wary. “You assume he knew what they were.”

“He must have guessed, eventually.”
Because anyone would have.
“And she is more than a spy.”

Bazel’s fingers twitched.

“But you know that, don’t you? You knew Karyn was a sorceress. You lied to Sorin about who created that rope, and you did it to protect her.”

A flash of fear. “Did you tell him—”

“No,” Ileni lied, ignoring a twinge of guilt. “It doesn’t matter to me. Whatever she and Absalm were up to, it got him killed. Karyn might be able to tell me why he died. That’s all I care about.”

Bazel let out a breath. “You want to use my stone to try summoning her.”

“Yes.”

“You expect me to hand it over to you?”

“No.” That would have been absolutely useless to her. Even with the aid of those stones, communication spells required huge amounts of power. She tried to sound desperate, which wasn’t difficult. “You can be there. You can even work the spell—I’ll show you how—and contact her yourself.”

Bazel’s face was carefully blank. “I’m not stupid, you know.”

Her heart thumped in her chest with sudden, paralyzing terror.

“I know she doesn’t care about me.” Bazel scuffed the edge of his mat with his foot. “I know I’m just a tool to her.”

Ileni’s relief was so vast she spoke without thinking. “Nobody in these caves is anything but a tool.”

Bazel blinked twice, and then—to her astonishment—he grinned. “Right. It’s nice to be a useful tool instead of a despised one.”

Ileni thought about smiling back, but it seemed too risky. Instead she nodded. “I can see that.”

Bazel’s smile twisted, but it didn’t vanish. Before she could say anything else, the students for her next class began filing in, and he made his way into the training area.

“What are you up to?” Sorin demanded as soon as they reached her room after the midday meal.

Ileni, who was already halfway across the room, turned and crossed her arms over her chest. She was the one who had chosen to head to her room instead of the knife-training cavern, and she was surprised that Sorin had followed her. To hide her gratification, she scowled at him.

Sorin leaned against the doorpost, scowling back. “Don’t underestimate Bazel. Even the least of us is dangerous. Whatever you’re planning, I should be with you. To protect you.”

And to wonder why she wasn’t working the spell on her own? Ileni sat on her bed and lifted her chin. “To stop me, you mean? No, thank you. I believe we’ve already had this discussion.”

“Please?”

She straightened in shock. His eyes were unwavering on hers, deep black against his faintly flushed skin. Ileni suddenly wondered if he would dare close the door behind him. Her skin tingled. That would hardly be
safe
, though, so he probably wouldn’t.

Sorin’s voice was tight. “I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

She flushed too. “Nothing will.”

“How can you be so sure?” He stepped into her room. If she’d had power to spare,
she
might have swung the door shut behind him. “You’ve been here for weeks. Haven’t you realized, yet, how close death is to life? How fragile our bodies are? It takes just a
second
—” He broke off. “Do you still not care whether you live or die?”