Death Sworn(56)

Ileni clenched her fists. “That danger started back when you all agreed to treat Bazel like a clump of mud.”

“Stop saying you like that. It wasn’t me. I never mistreated Bazel.”

“You watched it happen and didn’t care. And now you’ll let him die—he is going to die, isn’t he—”

“Of course he is!” Sorin sliced his hand through the air. “Don’t be a fool, Ileni. Don’t you understand the enormity of what he’s done? He betrayed every single one of us! He has to die. Even you must understand that.”

The contempt in his voice stung her. She looked down in the beginning of a nod, and shame washed over her. Was she really going to agree that Bazel should die because Sorin would scorn her if she argued?

That’s it, a small part of her mind whispered. This was how her students were persuaded to kill. It wasn’t just the adulation if they succeeded. It was the contempt if they refused, or even if they hesitated.

But where she had grown up, it was killing that was contemptible. She squared her shoulders. “I do understand. That’s why no one can find out.”

Sorin’s mouth dropped open. “Ileni—”

“That was my condition. And you agreed.” Ileni drew in her breath, and her courage with it. “If you tell, I’ll warn Bazel. I’ll help him. I’ll do everything I can to get him away. There are spells, you know, that allow a person to breathe underwater—”

“You wouldn’t dare,” Sorin snarled. He was crouching slightly, as if in readiness to attack. “Do that and you’re dead.”

Ileni shrugged. “I’ve been dead for almost a month. I have no particular objection to making it official.”

Her damp palms belied that statement. But just a few weeks ago, she would have meant every word, and she was able to summon up that old conviction in her voice. Sorin’s eyes went even darker than before.

They stared at each other. Then the fierceness drained from Sorin’s body, and he sat back down on the bed. “Then I suppose I have no choice.”

Ileni very much doubted that. She remained where she was, suspecting a trick. “That’s very convincing.”

“Ileni.” His eyes were still dark, and there was a tone in his voice she couldn’t identify. Not sadness, exactly . . . sympathy? Understanding? Tenderness sprang to her mind, and she inwardly scoffed at herself. “I promise you, I will make it happen. Bazel will not be harmed. Nor will you.”

She swallowed her thanks. “My own safety wasn’t part of the bargain.”

“I’ll see to it anyhow.”

“Really.” She crossed to the other wall, suddenly unable to keep still. “How are you going to see to any of it?”

“You said the spies will return. Spend the next few afternoons with Bazel—give him those private magic lessons, perhaps. That should give you plenty of time. Convince him to tell you exactly when they’re coming, and to bring you along when he goes to see them. Then tell me.”

Ileni stared at him, at his sharp face and set mouth. The illusion of tenderness vanished. He had killed people before. He could kill Bazel as soon as he had the information. He could kill her right now. She was stupid to ever, ever not be afraid of him.

He met her gaze squarely. “Trust me.”

“Why?” she said before she could stop herself.

He sighed. “You trust me to teach you lethal skills without harming you. You trust me not to kill you. Trust me to keep you safe. It’s the same thing.”

“I do trust you to keep me safe.” She wasn’t aware, until the sentence was out of her mouth, that she meant it. “Just not to keep Bazel safe.”

His teeth flashed in a brief grin. “How perceptive. Nevertheless, I will. I’m sure if I didn’t, you would throw yourself in harm’s way just to spite me.”

“I would try to save him,” Ileni promised. “No matter the cost.”

“That’s what I meant.” He sighed and got to his feet, running one hand through his blond hair. “Even you must realize the cost would be your life.”

“Since when do you care about my life?”

“Of course I care,” Sorin said. He walked toward the door and spoke without looking back at her. “I would disappoint the master if I let you die.”

He pulled the door open and was gone before she had a chance to reply. That was probably a good thing.