Death Sworn(11)

He didn’t react. “If I hadn’t interrupted you, could you have discovered who last held the knife?”

If she said yes, and he was the one who had killed Cadrel, her life would end within the next few seconds. But she didn’t think his surprise had been faked. On the other hand, he was probably far better at faking reactions than she was at reading them.

“Yes,” she said. And then, when his mouth tightened: “But I can’t do it again. That spell only works once.”

To her relief, he seemed to accept that. He sat back on his heels. “What will you do when you find the murderer?”

She shrugged, relieved that he had said when. Her illusion of power was successful, then. That was probably all that was keeping her alive right now. “I expect that will depend on who he is.”

He looked at her more carefully. “You won’t kill him?”

“My people don’t kill.”

“How inconvenient,” he murmured. “Even if you’re probably his next target?”

“I . . .” She hadn’t actually thought that far ahead. Neither, apparently, had the Elders. Maybe because they didn’t expect her to succeed.

“I’ll tell you what.” Sorin got to his feet, smooth as a snake unwinding. “I’ll make it easier for you. I’ll help you find him, and when we do, I’ll kill him.”

“You . . .”

“I’ll start,” Sorin said, “by helping you back to your chambers.” He half-turned his head, his entire body shifting subtly with the movement. What would have been a simple motion on anyone else looked, on him, like a preparation to strike. “This time, Teacher, I suggest you remain there.”





Chapter 4

The next morning, Ileni stood in front of a roomful of killers and tried to look like she knew what she was doing.

Dark gray mats were arranged in four neat rows on the stone floor, too thin to offer much comfort. The twenty students sitting cross-legged on them did not, in fact, look comfortable. They looked . . . ready. They sat silent and straight, all wearing identical gray tunics and woven gray pants, watching her expectantly. She would teach three classes every morning, sixty students in all, picked from the older assassins who possessed magical skill.

Ileni felt ridiculous.

It didn’t matter, she told herself. She wasn’t truly here to teach; turning these dangerous young men into sorcerers was far from her goal. She simply had to get through the class while using as little of the power remaining to her as possible. That meant a lot of theory—unfortunately, the Renegai didn’t care much about theory, so she would have to make some up—and a lot of practice exercises.

She wished she knew what they had already learned.

Sorin sat at the rightmost edge of the back row, as poised and alert as the other students. Last night, he had led her back to her room in silence, and this morning, as he led her to the dining cavern for breakfast and then to the training area, he had said nothing that wasn’t strictly necessary. Ileni carefully avoided his dark eyes as she began.

“My name is not important. You may address me as Teacher.” That was how the Elders had advised her to begin, though it made her feel even stupider. “I am here as required by the truce between our people, to school you in the art of magic so you may better accomplish your missions. Much as I abhor your ways, I will faithfully fulfill my people’s part of the bargain.”

No one moved or blinked. They had, of course, heard this before. The introduction had been composed by the Elders long ago, apparently with no thought of what it might feel like to recite it to a roomful of trained killers.

She took a deep breath and continued. “Four hundred years ago, when most sorcerers swore their allegiance to the Rathian Empire, my people separated from them. We were labeled renegades and hunted down. We fled here, to these mountains, to maintain our ways, build our strength, and wait for the right time to return. In exchange for my presence here, your master will leave my people in peace to pursue our task.”

The wall of blank stares was not encouraging. So much for the official speech. “I don’t know how much my predecessors taught you,” Ileni said, “so we’ll start with a simple demonstration of skill. Please observe carefully.”

With a dramatic flourish, she held out her hand, and a light appeared above her palm. It was the same spell she had used in the passageways yesterday, a minor magic that didn’t even require speech. She muttered a short spell to add a little dazzle to it, making the light shoot off sparks as if its power was difficult to contain.