Death Marked (Death Sworn #2)(15)

Evin and Cyn took longer to get through their combat, because each was defending as well as attacking. Evin leaned back slightly, eyes half-lidded, while Cyn stood straight as a rod, face grim, her arm a patchwork of drying blood. After ten minutes, neither had harmed the other, though Ileni could feel the thrusts and parries of power between them, the feints and blocks. This, presumably, was how the exercise was supposed to go.

Lis stood to the side, pressing a cloth against the cut on her arm. Ileni hesitated, then whispered to her, “I can heal—”

“You can get away from me,” Lis snapped.

Ileni blinked. Lis lifted her hand and made a gesture that Ileni had never seen before, but that didn’t need interpretation.

It would be my pleasure. Too late to say it, though. Apparently, Ileni had gotten so used to being on the receiving end of implacable hatred that she had forgotten how to deal with petty spite.

That probably should have made Lis’s scorn sting less.

Cyn grunted, and Ileni returned her attention to the fight. A red line ran up Cyn’s arm—barely more than a scratch, a trickle of blood forming a thin dash against the back of her wrist.

“Very good,” Karyn said, “Did any of you see how he did that?”

“By being ten times more powerful than Cyn?” Lis suggested.

Cyn narrowed her eyes at her sister. Then she glanced at Karyn and shrugged. “That would be my guess, too.”

“But he held back for most of the fight, then brought the double-point spell to bear on a weak spot in Cyn’s defense.” Karyn put her hands on her hips. “It’s not how much power you have. It’s how you use it. Remember that.”

“Pay attention, Lis,” Cyn said. “She’s talking to you.”

Lis gave her sister a look that, had it been a spell, would have scorched a hole through her chest.

“Next,” Karyn said, “Ileni can spar with me.”

Danger prickled up Ileni’s spine, but the magic surging through her wiped it out. She was fairly sure she could show these sorcerers a trick or two. Rehearsing a spell in her mind, she stepped forward.

“That’s all right,” Evin said. “It’s my turn, according to the rules. I’ll spar with you.”

Karyn shook her head. “That was a long match. You must be tired.”

“And I’ll never be tired in battle?” Evin shrugged. “Besides, I hear it’s not how much power I have. It’s how I use it.”

“Let’s see if that’s true.” Lips pressed together, Karyn gestured at Cyn. She stepped away, and Karyn took her spot.

The combat between Evin and Karyn was longer and more complicated than anything that had come before. Nothing visible happened, but Ileni felt spells and counterspells weaving through the air between the combatants. Both muttered fast and furiously, their hands forming intricate patterns in the air. Cyn and Lis stood several yards from Ileni, watching.

The match finally ended with a victory Ileni didn’t catch, though she heard Evin’s grunt and Karyn’s triumphant exhale. The two stepped back from each other and inclined their heads. A strand of Karyn’s hair was plastered against her cheek, dark with sweat.

“That’s enough for today,” Karyn said. “Practice mental pathways in your rooms. Lis, you need to work on your defenses. Cyn, I will show you what you did wrong at the beginning of your match. Evin, I will stop by to make sure you’re doing what you’re supposed to and to administer punishment when I find out that you’re not.”

Her gaze moved to Ileni, who stiffened. But Karyn just nodded and vanished.

“Well, well.” Evin let out a low whistle. “Congratulations, Ileni. It’s not every day we get to see Karyn surprised.”

“What is she?” Ileni blurted.

Three surprised pairs of eyes turned on her. Ileni flushed. “I mean—is she the master of the Academy?”

“The emperor is the master of the Academy,” Lis said, as if to a child. “Karyn is the head teacher.”

“Which is, practically, the same thing,” Evin added. “Since the emperor is rather far away and has other things on his mind.”

Ileni had always been told that at the time of the Renegai exile, the emperor was merely a figurehead, and the Empire was truly controlled by the Academy. Judging by Cyn’s dismissive snort, that was still true four hundred years later.

“But how can Karyn be head teacher,” Ileni said, “when she doesn’t even have power of her own?”

Lis’s voice was like acid. “We all try to pretend that doesn’t matter.”

“We have lodestones to spare.” Evin’s voice was wary, which Ileni could already tell was unusual for him. “It’s skill that matters, not power.”

“Easy for you to say,” Lis said, but suddenly she didn’t sound spiteful. She sounded weary. “The head teacher of the Academy never has her own power. This way, she serves at the emperor’s sufferance. He gave her the magic, and he can take it away.”

A breeze blew across the plateau, cooling Ileni’s flushed face and rustling her hair. Cyn lifted her face to it. “In theory,” she murmured. “The current emperor would never dare.”

“There aren’t many people who have enough power to be worth training,” Lis added, crossing her arms over her chest. “People with small amounts of power can’t do much with it, anyhow. But those of us without any power at all can draw it from a lodestone, as much as we’re capable of holding and using.”