Death Sworn(40)

“Arkim. He’s the one who summoned Ravil for his mission—he always does the final preparations for missions. He spent forty years in the emperor’s court, his one and only mission, and the knowledge he gained during that time was too valuable to lose. So he became a teacher. I suppose he could have learned magic during his time in the Empire.”

He could have . . . but when he had walked into the dining cavern, Ileni hadn’t sensed a trace of power in him. Then again, she hadn’t been paying attention. She had been too busy watching Sorin. “What sort of mission took forty years?”

“He was gaining the trust of the emperor and his family.”

“And what he did with that trust was kill one of them?”

“The emperor’s brother,” Sorin said calmly, “the last time the emperor was considering attacking us.”

“Nice.”

Sorin’s fingertips curled slightly inward. “That warning kept the Empire’s army out of these mountains for the past half-century. Ensuring the Renegai’s safety as well as ours. One death in exchange for avoiding hundreds.”

“I’ll bet the emperor’s brother didn’t see it that way.”

“I don’t think his opinion was requested.”

“It’s not funny!” Ileni pressed her knuckles against her mouth, then let her hand drop. “Do you truly think all the people you kill deserve to die?”

“That would be an easier belief, wouldn’t it?” Sorin’s face was cool and remote. “But no. We are trained to make accurate observations, not to be blinded by lies. If we allowed ourselves to believe that, we would falter when we realized some of our targets are innocent. We face the truth, Sorceress: not that they deserve to die, but that their deaths serve a greater purpose.”

He stood poised on the balls of his feet, every line of his body thrumming with easy power. Ileni shook her head jerkily, her body tight. She knew he was wrong, but she was certain that if they argued, he would win.

Sorin’s mouth twisted cruelly. Suddenly she was afraid of him—which made her realize that she had not, for some time, been afraid of him. Magefire, she was a fool. “Here’s something else you should know about Arkim. Do you want to guess how old the emperor’s brother was, when Arkim killed him?”

Silence.

“He was seven years old.”

Ileni’s throat convulsed.

“He was an imperial noble. Just not a fully developed one. And his death was necessary.”

Nausea roiled up from Ileni’s stomach. “Thank you,” she said in a hiss.

He leaned back. “For what?”

“For reminding me,” Ileni said, “what you are.”

Something flickered deep in his eyes, and his mouth twisted again. “Were you in danger of forgetting?”

“Yes,” Ileni said. “But it won’t happen again.”

She turned and walked away, out the cavern entrance and down the long dark hall, and didn’t once look back to see if he was watching her go.



Ileni was getting used to being up in the middle of the night; it wasn’t as if she was sleeping that well to begin with. So when the knock sounded on her door a few nights later, she was awake almost at once, both feet on the floor and her hands braced behind her on the cot.

“Ileni?” Sorin whispered through the wood, and she got to her feet and crossed the room. She put one hand against the solid wood, then pulled the door open. Sorin stood in the doorway, illuminated by the faint glow of the stones in the wall.

“What?” she breathed, and heard the fear in her voice.

“Nothing like that,” Sorin said, without bothering to explain what that was. He was smiling, a light, easy smile that looked odd on his face. “I’m here to invite you to a celebration.”

“A what?”

“Interested?”

She opened her mouth to do the smart thing and say no. Things had been strained between them since their argument a few days ago, and she knew it was better that way. The young man in front of her now, brimming with excitement and rebellion rather than with zeal and death, was an illusion. A dangerous illusion.

But the very last thing she wanted to do was go back to bed and think about what she might be missing until she fell asleep. Without a word, she went to her clothes chest, pulled on a skirt and shoes, and followed Sorin out into the dark corridor.

Clearly, whatever they were doing was against the rules, and her breath quickened. All her life she had been obedient, following the path laid out before her, asking permission before doing anything that might distract her from her goals. All her life, she had been in pursuit of something too precious to risk by breaking the rules. It was time to adjust to having nothing to lose.