Death Sworn(12)

“Can any of you duplicate that?”

The silence stretched—did it feel heavy, or was that simply the weight of solid rock above them? She closed her fist and banished the light with a frown that hid her relief. “Well. We had better start with the basics, then. Do you know the eight preparation exercises?”

“Of course we do,” one of the boys said. He was taller than the others, with the almond-shaped eyes and blue-black hair of imperial Rathian blood. How had one of the high nobility of the Empire ended up training to be an assassin? “If we are taught something, we know it. Not just because our lives may depend on it someday, but because we would disappoint the master if we didn’t. We do not disappoint the master. Don’t insult us with stupid questions.”

Ileni had no patience for smug, narrow-minded, overconfident enthusiasts. She had been one herself until half a year ago, which did nothing to increase her tolerance. “Your name?”

“Irun.” He leaned back on his hands, posturing for the other students, who were watching him. All except one; Sorin’s eyes were still on her. “And Absalm didn’t waste time on flashy light tricks. He was teaching us things that would actually be useful to us. Like fire spells.”

“You’re not ready for fire spells,” Ileni said.

“Aren’t we?”

His snide tone was all the warning she needed. She flipped up a defense spell, spitefully adding a mirror-aspect that would double whatever he threw at her before bouncing it back at him.

But he didn’t aim his attack at her. Instead he half-turned and, with a flip of his hand and a sharp, vicious phrase, sent a bolt of green fire directly at one of his classmates.

Ileni dropped her shield and, with a word, threw her own bolt of pure white fire. It shattered Irun’s attack seconds before it would have hit its intended victim. The two spells formed a blazing ball of energy, and she had to cast another spell to keep the impact contained. The ball collapsed in on itself and disappeared, leaving the cave looking even darker than before, and Ileni barely able to stand.

She hissed between her teeth. She had better things to spend her strength on than protecting killers-in-training. She whirled on Irun.

“What exactly was that?”

“A demonstration,” he said, “of what we have learned. Though none of your predecessors taught us that defense. Perhaps that could be our next lesson?”

His tone was . . . no longer snide. And though his eyes were still on hers, his head was slightly lowered, enough to give the impression that he was looking up at her. Ileni quickly scanned the others’ faces and saw no shock or outrage on any of them. Was there respect, or was she imagining that?

She focused on Irun’s intended victim—who would certainly have been badly hurt had she not stopped the attack spell. He looked young, with round cheeks and red-brown hair. He sat as still as if the attack hadn’t happened, his hands rock steady. But when he met her gaze, his eyes were those of a hunted animal.

Ironically, he practically blazed with magical power—power that her training allowed her to sense, but that his training, obviously, hadn’t equipped him to use. She had noticed him as soon as she entered the room.

Ileni drew in a deep breath, gathering energy with it. With luck, she could remain upright long enough to finish the lesson.

“The first thing I teach,” she snapped, “will be control. I’ve never seen such a waste of power.” Here, she realized suddenly, was the excuse she had been looking for. “The most important part of your training has been sorely neglected. Before you can perform any act of magic, you need to strengthen your minds. That requires daily practice. We’ll begin with the nine-pointed meditations.”

Irun’s chin came up, and she met his defiant eyes squarely. She didn’t have to feign her lack of fear. She was too exhausted to feel much of anything. After a moment he looked down again.

“Absalm didn’t teach that way,” he muttered.

“He would have, if he’d had time to finish his teaching. He certainly did not expect you to use that spell without adequate preparation. You will not attack one of your fellow students again without my permission. Is that understood?”

He nodded curtly.

“Good.” She swept her gaze around the rest of the room and saw that everyone’s eyes were respectfully lowered. Maybe that expenditure of power had been worth it after all. Or would be, once she could breathe without effort again.