Death Sworn(62)

Something shivered deep inside her. Right now, she could easily imagine Sorin killing Absalm for his betrayal. For endangering the mission he was so devoted to.

She knew he could kill. He had killed before. He was no different from any other assassin in these caves.

Except none of them would have given her a chance to escape.

“I didn’t know what they were,” Bazel whispered. “I swear I didn’t. I know what you think of me, but you can’t imagine that even I would knowingly allow the Empire’s spies into our caves.”

“And do you imagine,” Sorin asked softly, “that it will make a difference whether you knew or not?”

“No,” Bazel said. “I don’t.”

Sorin jerked Bazel closer, so their faces were only inches apart. “That was a clever trick with the rope. How long did you have that set up?”

Bazel didn’t answer. Sorin shook him. “This is your chance to make it easier for yourself. Answer me.”

A defiant light flared in Bazel’s eyes, without changing the defeated set of his face. “You won’t get to torture me,” he said. “Too many traded with me and would be implicated if I talked. They’ll make sure I’m dead before I have a chance to betray them.”

“Then you die,” Sorin said.

“I would rather die,” Bazel whispered, “than have to face the master when he finds out what I’ve done. And I will die. You can’t protect me against all of them.”

“I’m not so sure of that,” Sorin said, “but to be on the safe side, I could torture the answers out of you right now.”

“Sorin,” Ileni said.

Sorin held Bazel upright without any sign of strain. In the dim light, his jaw was a grim line. “I said he wouldn’t die. I made no promises about how pleasant his life would be.”

Bazel’s head came up sharply. He looked at Ileni, then Sorin, then back at Ileni. “Why?”

“I don’t like it,” Ileni said, “when people die. You wouldn’t understand.”

“I meant why did you tell him?”

The anguish underlying his voice made her drop her eyes. She was very conscious of Sorin watching her. “Because it’s true. They are imperial spies.”

“You tell me everything you know,” Sorin said to Bazel, “and maybe I can figure out a way to deal with this without implicating you.”

“I don’t know anything,” Bazel whispered. “Absalm told me about them. I don’t know how he found them.”

“And did Absalm teach you that trick with the rope? Or was it her?”

Ileni hissed through her teeth. “It wasn’t me.”

“Absalm always thought we might need an escape route.” Bazel wriggled slightly as Sorin’s fist tightened on his shirt. “He prepared the rope. It’s an easy enough spell to uncoil it.”

So it was . . . and would have required much less power than Bazel had spent. Was that lack of skill and training? Or was he lying?

Sorin let Bazel drop to the ground. Bazel hit the rock with a thud and struggled frantically to keep himself from sliding off, all without uttering a sound. Sorin watched him, expressionless, then drew a dagger and cut through the rope in three neat slashes. “Let’s go. I think that’s about enough of this.”

It was enough a long time ago, Ileni thought angrily at his back. Then she devoted her attention to keeping up with the two assassins as they scrambled nimbly over the rocks and through the tunnel.

As soon as they were back in the built-up part of the caves, Bazel vanished down a side corridor, and Ileni followed Sorin to the now-familiar section where her room was. Sorin didn’t say a word or even turn around, but when they reached her room, he stepped in with her and closed the door.

She turned, and their eyes met. From this close, his face was all lines and angles. She couldn’t believe she had ever thought he looked like Tellis.

“Ileni.” Sorin’s voice was very quiet. “Why did you stay?”

“I . . . don’t know.” It was the last thing she had expected him to ask, but his tone was so grim she didn’t even think of avoiding the question. His eyes were like night shadows, with no guessing what was hiding in them. “What would be the point of going? I was sent here for a purpose, and I haven’t accomplished it yet.”

“You could have been free.” He was so still she could barely tell he was breathing.