Death Sworn(54)

“This is a real fight?” She tried to sound haughty and unafraid, casting about desperately for something to distract him. What possible reason could she give for not using magic? “I don’t usually find them so enjoyable.”

He released her abruptly and stood. Ileni pushed herself up on her elbows, her heart still pounding but her fear gone. Was he actually blushing? She couldn’t tell in the dim light.

“Where were you?” Sorin demanded.

“I don’t think I’m required to tell you.”

He leaned forward. If he had been blushing, he no longer was. His face was grim and merciless. “You’re wrong.”

So much for having the upper hand. “I, uh—there are certain magical rites that require privacy and space. I went deeper into the caves to—”

He knelt and ran a finger over her hair, shocking her into silence. Her breath caught in her throat.

“Your hair is frizzy,” Sorin said. “You were near water.”

“Um.” She tilted her head away from his touch, which suddenly felt cold and impersonal. “Some of the rites also require proximity to moving water.”

He lowered his hand. “And you found the Black River on your own? I doubt that. Who took you there?”

Ileni scrambled to her feet and faced him. “Why?” she asked, before she could stop herself. “Are you jealous?”

“Was it Bazel?”

“He is ready for those spells. I’m giving him private lessons.” That didn’t sound remotely believable, but maybe Sorin would think they were meeting for secret trysts. She didn’t know the punishment for that, but it couldn’t be as bad as the punishment for meeting outsiders within the caves.

Unless the punishment for both was death.

She also hoped—stupidly, and hating herself for it—that Sorin would be jealous. But when he stepped closer, the only expression on his face was disbelief.

“How can you be so stupid? Don’t you realize Bazel could kill you as easily as look at you?”

“Isn’t that true of all of you?”

“Bazel is desperate. That makes him dangerous.”

“I’m still alive, aren’t I?” She turned and shoved her door open, making no objection when Sorin pushed past to precede her into the room. The glowstones flickered to life. “Isn’t a willingness to risk my life something you should admire?”

“I suppose so.” Sorin’s voice was suddenly soft. “I just didn’t expect you to be quite so . . . enthusiastic . . . about it. What was so important about this spell?”

Ileni turned to shut the door, her mind working fast. “It told me where Absalm died.” It sounded weak, even to her. She swiveled to face him, putting her back to the thick wood of the door. “I thought it would tell me more, but there was nothing else. I have no idea why Absalm was at the river when he died.”

“I know why he was there,” Sorin said.

She lifted her chin. “Tell me.”

“Tell me the truth about what you were doing there,” Sorin countered.

Ileni bit her lip. She could guess what would happen to Bazel if his secret got out. But Bazel was an assassin, one of the enemy, and in exchange she would get a piece of the answer she had come looking for.

It should have been an easy decision.

“One condition,” she said.

As far as she could tell, Sorin hadn’t moved a muscle, but suddenly, instead of just standing, he looked like he was about to spring at her. “You’re not in a position to be making demands.”

“Aren’t I? You want to find out who killed Absalm and Cadrel, too, so you can figure out how the master is testing you. Helping me serves your own interests. Whereas I gain nothing from answering you.”

A small, reluctant smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “You would make a great assassin.”

“I thought you didn’t train women.”

“We don’t. That wasn’t an offer; it was an observation.” He rolled his shoulders back. “All right. What’s the condition?”

“That you leave Bazel alone. Don’t punish him, and don’t tell anyone.”

Anger flared in Sorin’s dark eyes. If Ileni hadn’t already been pressed against the door, she would have stepped back. But all he said was, “Fine. He’s safe. Now tell me.”

She had to look away from him before she could say, “No. You first.”