Death Sworn(69)

“Karyn? But . . . how?”

“She wasn’t just a spy.” Ileni met his eyes, and warm relief spread through her when he didn’t avoid her gaze. But she didn’t quite dare touch him again. “She’s a sorceress.”

She meant to explain how she knew, but Sorin just nodded. He must assume she had sensed Karyn’s power.

And why hadn’t she, back at their first meeting? She should have. Even with barely any power of her own, she should have recognized the feel of magic. Ileni frowned, suddenly less sure.

But Sorin was looking at her like she was someone to reckon with, not just a source of guilt and shame. He drew another dagger from the rack and ran his finger along its edge. “Why would Karyn be killing Renegai sorcerers?”

“Because you’ve been going after their sorcerers,” Ileni said. “The emperor must think the Renegai tutors are helping you do it. So of course he wants to remove us.”

Sorin’s fingers clenched around the knife hilt. “Then why didn’t Karyn kill you when she had the chance?”

“I don’t know.” Or had she tried? Maybe Karyn’s offer of escape would have ended with Ileni’s corpse floating down the river.

Like Absalm’s corpse. Had Karyn made him the same offer? Had Absalm been trying to go home?

Sorin threw the knife into the air and caught it by the blade. “So the Empire attacked the day after their sorceress escaped? That can’t be coincidence. She must have used magic to send them a message. This was revenge.”

“No,” Ileni said. “An attack like that couldn’t be prepared in a day. They must have had it waiting. It was their backup plan.” She stopped, thinking hard. Sorin flipped the knife again, this time to hold it by the hilt. “Whatever Karyn was doing, that was their first plan. She must have communicated to them, somehow, that it hadn’t worked, so they tried the attack.”

“Which failed,” Sorin pointed out, a bit smugly. “So Karyn will come back and try to finish whatever she was here to do.”

She’s not an assassin. She’s allowed to give up. But remembering Karyn’s steadiness as she dumped her friend’s body into the river, Ileni didn’t believe it. A chill ran through her. Karyn would be back. An imperial sorceress could easily float a canoe upriver.

And what she was here to do was kill Renegai.

“We have to find her,” Ileni said.

Sorin lowered the knife, his arm tightly knotted. “Why would we do that? To make it easier for her?”

“No, but . . .” Ileni resisted the urge to reach for a knife of her own. “All this time, I’ve known someone was going to kill me, and there was nothing I could do about it. Now I know who it is. I don’t have to wait for the knife in my back. If we find her, take her by surprise—”

Sorin shook his head. “It’s a stupid idea. We can take precautions—”

“And wait to find out how they’re going to fail?” Ileni dug her nails into the sides of her legs. “She’s an imperial sorceress. You can’t possibly defend me against her. And I can’t do this anymore, Sorin. I can’t wait to die, not knowing when, or why, or how. I have to face it. I need to know the truth about what’s going on.”

“And I need you to be safe.”

His voice broke, just for a moment. Ileni remembered the tightness of his arms around her, the plea in his eyes when he asked her why she wasn’t dead.

She softened her voice. “Please, Sorin. I can’t do it without your help.”

“Good,” he said flatly.

She brushed his fingers with hers, watching his cheeks turn faintly red. “I’m going to try anyhow. If you help, you can keep me safe.”

“Don’t.” He jerked his fingers away and stepped back. “You’re not very good at this.”

Ileni felt blood rush to her own face, and she turned around so he wouldn’t see. He was right, she wasn’t. She wished that she had more practice in working her wiles. Or even that she knew what, exactly, those were. She had never needed to be cajoling or coy with Tellis. This thing with Sorin was something entirely different. It made her feel like she was walking on a knife’s edge, like her breath was permanently stuck in her throat.

Tellis had made her feel safe. Sorin made her feel like being inches away from death was worth it.

“So you won’t help me.” She didn’t bother to hide her anger. Anger felt a lot better than guilt or shame.