Death Sworn (15 page)

“She’s obsessive about secrecy. She wants me to be the only assassin who has any hint of their existence.”

“I can’t say I blame her,” Ileni said dryly. “I wouldn’t imagine the master taking kindly to your little arrangement.”

“No,” Bazel said.

Ileni glanced at him sideways, trying to read the taut lines of his face. What she saw wasn’t fear. It was guilt. “What would you do if he discovered you?”

“Hope he likes chocolate, I suppose.”

By the time Ileni adjusted to the fact that Bazel had actually made a joke, they were back in the occupied parts of the caves and she didn’t dare speak. Bazel walked her to her door, then turned and vanished down the corridor.

Ileni listened for his footsteps but heard absolute silence. She put out a hand to push her door open.

Just as her fingers touched the smooth wood, someone grabbed her from behind.

Chapter 13

I
leni whirled without thinking, jabbing her elbow back in one of the moves Sorin had taught her. Her assailant twisted aside to avoid the blow, and she threw her body sideways and backward, pulling out of his grasp. It almost worked; his fingers slid away, but he followed the motion of her body and grabbed again. Rough hands closed around her wrists, one foot hooked under her ankle, and Ileni slammed down on her back with her arms held together, a dark wiry form kneeling above her.

She knew who it was. She had known since the moment he reacted to her defenses. Yet her ward hadn’t reacted . . . so despite her pounding heart, she had stopped being afraid once she realized it was him.

That didn’t mean she should have.

She drew in a breath and said, “I’m surprised I broke your first grip. You must be tired.”

Sorin’s face was shadowed, so she couldn’t tell if he was smiling, but there was no answering amusement in his voice. “I wasn’t prepared. I was expecting you to react with magic.”

But she hadn’t. Instead she had instinctively reached for her limited fighting skills. The realization felt like being slammed into the ground a second time. Ileni tried to pull her arms away, but his grip was like iron, his body a solid length of coiled power above her.

“This isn’t a practice session.” Sorin’s voice was soft, but it wasn’t a comforting softness. “You
should
use your magic in a real fight.”

“This is a real fight?” She tried to sound haughty and unafraid, casting about desperately for something to distract him. What possible reason could she give for not using magic? “I don’t usually find them so enjoyable.”

He released her abruptly and stood. Ileni pushed herself up on her elbows, her heart still pounding but her fear gone. Was he actually blushing? She couldn’t tell in the dim light.

“Where were you?” Sorin demanded.

“I don’t think I’m required to tell you.”

He leaned forward. If he
had
been blushing, he no longer was. His face was grim and merciless. “You’re wrong.”

So much for having the upper hand. “I, uh—there are certain magical rites that require privacy and space. I went deeper into the caves to—”

He knelt and ran a finger over her hair, shocking her into silence. Her breath caught in her throat.

“Your hair is frizzy,” Sorin said. “You were near water.”

“Um.” She tilted her head away from his touch, which suddenly felt cold and impersonal. “Some of the rites also require proximity to moving water.”

He lowered his hand. “And you found the Black River on your own? I doubt that. Who took you there?”

Ileni scrambled to her feet and faced him. “Why?” she asked, before she could stop herself. “Are you jealous?”

“Was it Bazel?”

“
He
is ready for those spells. I’m giving him private lessons.” That didn’t sound remotely believable, but maybe Sorin would think they were meeting for secret trysts. She didn’t know the punishment for that, but it couldn’t be as bad as the punishment for meeting outsiders within the caves.

Unless the punishment for both was death.

She also hoped—stupidly, and hating herself for it—that Sorin
would
be jealous. But when he stepped closer, the only expression on his face was disbelief.

“How can you be so stupid? Don’t you realize Bazel could kill you as easily as look at you?”

“Isn’t that true of all of you?”

“Bazel is desperate. That makes him dangerous.”

“I’m still alive, aren’t I?” She turned and shoved her door open, making no objection when Sorin pushed past to precede her into the room. The glowstones flickered to life. “Isn’t a willingness to risk my life something you should admire?”

“I suppose so.” Sorin’s voice was suddenly soft. “I just didn’t expect you to be quite so . . . enthusiastic . . . about it. What was so important about this spell?”

Ileni turned to shut the door, her mind working fast. “It told me where Absalm died.” It sounded weak, even to her. She swiveled to face him, putting her back to the thick wood of the door. “I thought it would tell me more, but there was nothing else. I have no idea why Absalm was at the river when he died.”

“I know why he was there,” Sorin said.

She lifted her chin. “Tell me.”

“Tell me the truth about what
you
were doing there,” Sorin countered.

Ileni bit her lip. She could guess what would happen to Bazel if his secret got out. But Bazel was an assassin, one of the enemy, and in exchange she would get a piece of the answer she had come looking for.

It should have been an easy decision.

“One condition,” she said.

As far as she could tell, Sorin hadn’t moved a muscle, but suddenly, instead of just standing, he looked like he was about to spring at her. “You’re not in a position to be making demands.”

“Aren’t I? You want to find out who killed Absalm and Cadrel, too, so you can figure out how the master is testing you. Helping me serves your own interests. Whereas I gain nothing from answering
you
.”

A small, reluctant smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “You would make a great assassin.”

“I thought you didn’t train women.”

“We don’t. That wasn’t an offer; it was an observation.” He rolled his shoulders back. “All right. What’s the condition?”

“That you leave Bazel alone. Don’t punish him, and don’t tell anyone.”

Anger flared in Sorin’s dark eyes. If Ileni hadn’t already been pressed against the door, she would have stepped back. But all he said was, “Fine. He’s safe. Now tell me.”

She had to look away from him before she could say, “No. You first.”

Sorin sketched a mocking half-bow. “Of course.”

Ileni swallowed hard, feeling her shoulders relax a little. “All right. How did
Absalm
find that . . . Black River?”

Sorin’s shoulders rose and fell. Shadows gathered in his eyes, and when he spoke, his voice was a near whisper. “I took him there.”

“
You
did?”

“I found the Black River soon after I was brought here. I used to like to explore the wilder parts of the caves. To go places only I knew about, so no one knew where I was.” He said it tightly, his eyes darting briefly away from hers. “I didn’t have an easy time adjusting, from being a wild street child to this life.”

Something other than shame colored his voice, something like pride, or longing. Had he ever truly adjusted to this life? “But you told Absalm?”

“He asked me about underground rivers. He said what you said—that there are spells that require proximity to running water. Is that true?”

If the spell involved manipulating the water, or breathing underwater. The sorts of spells that could only have one purpose: escape from the caves. Ileni folded her arms over her chest. “It’s not your turn to ask questions yet. Was Absalm the only person you told?”

In the moment of silence that followed, she was acutely aware of the strength of his body, of the short distance between them.

“Yes,” Sorin said curtly.

“Then Absalm must have been the one who told Bazel about it.” Had he told Bazel about the traders, too? How had the traders known there would be someone waiting for them on that flat rock? Ileni dared one more question. “How do you know Absalm drowned there?”

“One of us found his body downstream, while coming back from a mission.”

“Who? Can we ask him—” The expression on his face stopped her. Her next sentence wasn’t a question. “Whoever it was is dead.”

“It was Jastim,” Sorin said.

The silence stretched. Ileni had a brief, vivid memory of a wiry body leaping through a small dark window. Then Sorin crossed the room and sat on her bed, without asking.

“My turn,” Sorin said. “Tell me what you were doing at the river with Bazel.”

Ileni tried to think about what she should leave out, what she could get away with, what it would be advantageous for Sorin not to know. But she couldn’t work through all the tangles—and besides, she wasn’t sure she could get away with lying to Sorin just then.

So she told him everything.

When she was done, he leaned back on his hands. Even in repose, his body seemed clenched, ready to strike.

“You,” he said finally, “cannot possibly be as stupid as you seem.”

“I wouldn’t be so certain,” Ileni said coldly.

He shook his head and got to his feet, shoving her crumpled blanket to the side. His eyes were hot as coals. “They’re not traders, Ileni.”

“Of course they’re—”

“They’re spies.”

She was shocked into silence.

“Spies for the Empire. They’ve been trying for centuries to find out more about us, to find a way to stop us. And Bazel gave them a way in.”

Ileni remembered Karyn asking, with elaborate casualness, where Sayon had been sent. And the blond man goading Bazel with questions about the succession. And Bazel—at ease, trying to impress Karyn, unafraid for one of the few times in his miserable existence—letting slip one piece of information, and then another.

“I don’t think Bazel knows,” she whispered.

“But he should have.” The lines of Sorin’s face were hard and uncompromising.

Ileni took a deep breath and stepped away from the door. “So should I.”

He pressed his lips together. “You’re not trained to evaluate a situation the way he is.”

“Then maybe the fault lies with his teachers.”

“He received the same lessons as the rest of us.”

“No,” Ileni said, “he didn’t.” She took another step toward him. “You sat in those lessons surrounded by friends. You were allowed to take pride in who you were and who you were becoming. Bazel never had any of that. Is it any wonder he let his guard slip a little, when he finally found himself among people who didn’t think he was worthless?”

Sorin’s fingers curled slightly as if around an imaginary knife hilt. He bit off his words as he spoke. “That’s no excuse for endangering us all.”

Ileni clenched her fists. “That danger started back when you all agreed to treat Bazel like a clump of mud.”

“Stop saying
you
like that. It wasn’t me. I never mistreated Bazel.”

“You watched it happen and didn’t care. And now you’ll let him die—he is going to die, isn’t he—”

“Of course he is!” Sorin sliced his hand through the air. “Don’t be a fool, Ileni. Don’t you understand the enormity of what he’s done? He betrayed every single one of us! He has to die. Even you must understand that.”

The contempt in his voice stung her. She looked down in the beginning of a nod, and shame washed over her. Was she really going to agree that Bazel should
die
because Sorin would scorn her if she argued?

That’s it,
a small part of her mind whispered. This was how her students were persuaded to kill. It wasn’t just the adulation if they succeeded. It was the contempt if they refused, or even if they hesitated.

But where she had grown up, it was killing that was contemptible. She squared her shoulders. “I do understand. That’s why no one can find out.”

Sorin’s mouth dropped open. “Ileni—”

“That was my condition. And you agreed.” Ileni drew in her breath, and her courage with it. “If you tell, I’ll warn Bazel. I’ll help him. I’ll do everything I can to get him away. There are spells, you know, that allow a person to breathe underwater—”

“You wouldn’t dare,” Sorin snarled. He was crouching slightly, as if in readiness to attack. “Do that and you’re dead.”

Ileni shrugged. “I’ve been dead for almost a month. I have no particular objection to making it official.”

Her damp palms belied that statement. But just a few weeks ago, she would have meant every word, and she was able to summon up that old conviction in her voice. Sorin’s eyes went even darker than before.

They stared at each other. Then the fierceness drained from Sorin’s body, and he sat back down on the bed. “Then I suppose I have no choice.”

Ileni very much doubted that. She remained where she was, suspecting a trick. “That’s very convincing.”

“Ileni.” His eyes were still dark, and there was a tone in his voice she couldn’t identify. Not sadness, exactly . . . sympathy? Understanding?
Tenderness
sprang to her mind, and she inwardly scoffed at herself. “I promise you, I will make it happen. Bazel will not be harmed. Nor will you.”

She swallowed her thanks. “My own safety wasn’t part of the bargain.”

“I’ll see to it anyhow.”

“Really.” She crossed to the other wall, suddenly unable to keep still. “How are you going to see to any of it?”

“You said the spies will return. Spend the next few afternoons with Bazel—give him those private magic lessons, perhaps. That should give you plenty of time. Convince him to tell you exactly when they’re coming, and to bring you along when he goes to see them. Then tell
me
.”

Ileni stared at him, at his sharp face and set mouth. The illusion of tenderness vanished. He had killed people before. He could kill Bazel as soon as he had the information. He could kill
her
right now. She was stupid to ever, ever not be afraid of him.

He met her gaze squarely. “Trust me.”

“Why?” she said before she could stop herself.

He sighed. “You trust me to teach you lethal skills without harming you. You trust me not to kill you. Trust me to keep you safe. It’s the same thing.”

“I do trust you to keep me safe.” She wasn’t aware, until the sentence was out of her mouth, that she meant it. “Just not to keep Bazel safe.”

His teeth flashed in a brief grin. “How perceptive. Nevertheless, I will. I’m sure if I didn’t, you would throw yourself in harm’s way just to spite me.”

“I would try to save him,” Ileni promised. “No matter the cost.”

“That’s what I meant.” He sighed and got to his feet, running one hand through his blond hair. “Even you must realize the cost would be your life.”

“Since when do you care about my life?”

“Of course I care,” Sorin said. He walked toward the door and spoke without looking back at her. “I would disappoint the master if I let you die.”