Death Sworn(16)

She looked at the heavy wooden door that ended the stairway, then turned to Sorin. He was standing a few steps below her looking irritatingly unaffected by the long climb. Ileni pushed strands of hair off her sweat-slicked forehead. Her voice shook. She hoped he would think it was because of exertion. “What am I supposed to do—knock?”

“Is that how they do it where you come from?”

Ileni turned, placed both hands flat on the door, and pushed.

The door was heavy, but swung inward far more easily than she had expected. Ileni managed not to stumble, but she rushed into the room with a bit less dignity than she had planned. She let go of the door and heard it slam shut behind her. Sorin hadn’t followed her in.

That seemed like a bad sign. She dug her fingers into her skirt. The room was irregularly shaped, about six paces across, and there was no one in it. Two lamps, set in the black stone walls, lit the space murkily. There was a patterned rug in the center of the floor, a high-backed cushioned chair in the corner, and a window in the far wall.

Ileni headed for the window. It was deep and recessed, but placing her elbows on the sill, she could lean out far enough to see the dark velvet of the sky, carelessly embroidered with tiny pinpoints of stars. Ahead of her was nothing but blackness. She knew the darkness hid trees and mountains, but it was as if she was staring straight into a sky that folded back on itself to stretch over her head. A shiver ran through her. She hadn’t realized how badly she missed the sight of sky and open space, the feel of the wind, after only two days underground. What would she feel like in a week—a month—a year? The rest of her life?

Someone cleared his throat behind her, and she remembered that the rest of her life might not be that unbearably long. She pulled back in and turned.

She hadn’t heard the door open, and she hadn’t heard footsteps. But a man now sat in the high-backed chair, his face and form almost hidden by the dark.





Chapter 5

A prickle ran up Ileni’s spine as she pressed her back against the windowsill, looking at the tall dark figure in the chair. It wasn’t magic that had gotten him here so silently; she would have sensed a spell. The wooden door was still closed, and Sorin was nowhere in sight.

The man was so still he might have been dead. Ileni opened her mouth and couldn’t think of anything to say. Her mind whirled in panic as she stood frozen to the spot. What she came up with, finally, was, “Nice view.”

It wouldn’t have been so bad if she had managed to sound sardonic, or even cool. Instead her voice emerged shaky and frightened. The master leaned forward, bringing his face out of the darkness and into the shadows. She still couldn’t make out his features, but his eyes, fierce and bright, shone in the lamplight like those of a hunting animal. The silence settled as heavily as before.

Ileni drew in her breath. The pressure of his gaze made her feel as if she was forcing out words. “Where’s Sorin?”

The master’s voice was soft and dry, and unexpectedly gentle. “He doesn’t need to be here.”

Why not? Her own heartbeat filled the dark chamber. She felt tiny and powerless, like a mouse in the shadow of a hawk. “Why do I have to be here?”

“I never got to meet Cadrel before he died.” The voice was almost a purr. “I don’t want to make that mistake again.”

“Of not meeting me before I die?” Her voice shook. She couldn’t help it, but she was starting not to care.

Instead of replying, the master rose.

That was all he did, yet she felt as if a dozen daggers were pointed at her chest. She had thought Sorin and the other assassins exuded menace, but they were pale imitations of this man. He can kill with a flick of his fingers, the Elders had said, and she believed it.

She wanted to back away—no, she wanted to run—but his eyes pinned her where she stood. Small and dark though they were, they took over his entire face, and their focus on her drove the breath out of her body. She wanted to look away, but she couldn’t. His eyes burned like flames, lit up from within by . . . wisdom? power? madness? Something else, something that was all those things and more.

He smiled sympathetically, as if he understood. Very slowly, he moved his head to the side and shifted his gaze away.

Ileni gasped, and air came pouring back into her lungs. Her legs felt as if they couldn’t support her body, but there was no other chair in the room. Besides, she was afraid to move.

“Sorin says you seem different from the other tutors,” the master of assassins said. “And he’s a perceptive boy. Have you found him helpful in easing your adjustment to your new life?”