Death Marked (Death Sworn #2)(66)

She wasn’t fast enough.

The knife meant for Girad pierced Ileni’s shoulder, a bolt of searing pain. Her healing spell was instinctive, but the shield she tried to throw up was not, and it was a shade too slow. The second stab went under her arm, with deadly accuracy, and Girad screamed.

No! Ileni put her hand on Girad’s small chest, and blood poured between her fingers. His eyes were wide and uncomprehending, and he was no longer screaming. That was a bad sign, wasn’t it?

Arxis grabbed her arm. Evin snarled a spell, and Arxis was flung away. Behind her, a hard thud and the crack of bone, though the assassin didn’t make a sound.

Ileni threw a healing spell at Girad, then another, digging frantically to remember what she had been taught. Half of healing was knowing what to fix, and the Renegai didn’t focus on knife wounds; she could feel that things were wrong, that there was blood where there shouldn’t be blood, rips in what should be whole, but she couldn’t tell what precise spells would do the most good. Another random healing spell, and another—and then nothing. She had drained her power.

Girad’s brown eyes closed, and Ileni choked down a sob before she saw his chest rise and fall. Her hands, when she lifted them, were dark with blood. It was under her fingernails, and the thick, metallic smell was in her throat. She couldn’t tell if she had saved Girad, but at least he was breathing. For now.

There was blood on his face, too, smeared across his cheek and forehead. So much blood—how much could a tiny body lose?

Evin dropped to his knees beside her and reached for his brother, making a noise that didn’t sound like him—that barely sounded human. He gathered the small body into his arms, and finally Ileni turned.

Arxis was a crumpled heap against the far wall, and she didn’t have to check to know he was dead. She had felt the power Evin unleashed against him. A ward shimmered around them, and outside it, Karyn was shouting orders. The ward was also Evin’s work.

Four of the imperial sorcerers linked hands, and magic burst from them in a spray of violet light. Ileni braced herself, and she was ready when the world tilted around her. She landed on her hands and knees on a cold stone floor, stomach heaving.

She wasn’t quite ready for the realization that she had landed there alone. But it made sense. Girad would need a healer, and Evin . . . Evin would need to be with Girad.

She, on the other hand, would need to answer for what had happened today. She had known a killer was among them, and she had said nothing. Until it was too late.

When she got to her feet, she left bloody handprints on the gray stone.


It was half an hour before Karyn walked into the small stone room—enough time for Ileni to compose herself, steady her stomach, and force herself to think. When Karyn thrust the door open, Ileni said quickly, “Is Girad all right?”

Karyn slammed the door behind her and leaned against it. “He’s alive.”

A rush of relief went through Ileni. She closed her eyes, then opened them and focused on Karyn’s hard face. Girad would live. Now Ileni had to concentrate on whether she would.

“For now,” Karyn added, between her teeth. “He hasn’t woken yet. The healers aren’t sure he will.”

“He’s alive because of me.” Ileni kept her voice mild, not defiant. She didn’t have to prove this. Twenty sorcerers had seen her throw herself in front of Arxis’s dagger.

“How long,” Karyn asked, “have you known there was an assassin among us?”

Ileni had already decided there was no point in lying. “Since I first saw him.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“You had just kidnapped me. Remember?”

“But Girad hadn’t.”

Ileni flinched. “I didn’t . . . I thought his target was Evin.”

“Evin,” Karyn repeated flatly. “And he did deserve to die?”

This is war. But now was not the time to argue. She had to concentrate on getting through this, on convincing Karyn to let her live. Ileni shook her head.

Karyn stepped toward her, a slow, deliberate motion Ileni recognized. That of a predator sensing weakness. “But you weren’t going to stop it. You were going to let Evin die rather than betray your assassin lover.”

She hadn’t just been going to let him die. She had been considering killing him.

“You know they won’t stop,” Karyn said. “The assassins never let someone go, once they are marked for death.” Sorin had told her that once, proudly. “They will send someone else after Girad. Probably soon, while he is weak and helpless and easy to kill. And if the next person fails, they’ll send another. And another. You might have saved him today, but Girad is dead.”

“No,” Ileni said. The protest was instinctive, but she meant it.

“And then they’ll send someone after Evin,” Karyn said. Whatever reaction she saw on Ileni’s face made her lips compress. “And then, I am sure, after you. I assume you’re more willing to help us now?”

Ileni stepped back. “I want to see Girad. Maybe I can heal him. I ran out of power before, but there might be more I can do.”

Karyn’s face tightened. “You think I’m going to let you keep drawing on the lodestones? After this?”

“I don’t want to draw on them,” Ileni said. She meant it, though she couldn’t tell if Karyn believed her. “I don’t want to use this magic anymore. But if I can help Girad. . . .”