Death Sworn(75)

“Who else knew?” she whispered.

“No one.”

“Not even the master of the assassins?”

“Well. Of course the master.” He sounded shocked. “Korjan and I have been . . . friends, I daresay. Since we were young. He was the one who showed me how much could be accomplished if only the Renegai and the assassins would combine our talents.”

“Since you were young . . .” She drew in her breath. “You mean, since he spent time in our village so he could murder one of us. A Renegai!”

Absalm tugged at his earlobe, then dropped his hands to his lap. The calm, remote expression dropped over his face again. “Who died for the greater good.”

She had heard that before. “What greater good? What are you planning? Tell me!”

Even to herself, she sounded hysterical, and she wasn’t surprised when Absalm shook his head. “I’m sorry that we’re having this conversation now.” He didn’t sound sorry, though. He sounded tolerant and paternal. “You weren’t meant to discover the truth this early. I wanted to wait until I was sure. . . .”

“That I was like you?” She brushed a clump of hair away from her cheek and hoped it hadn’t left blood on her face. “One of them? That was never going to happen.”

“No?” He said it very softly, and she was suddenly sure he knew about everything: the celebration, the fighting lessons, and—most of all—Sorin. Blood rushed to her cheeks.

“Come, Ileni. You must have realized by now that the assassins are not precisely the way the Elders painted them.” Absalm leaned forward, his gray eyes soft, and went on in that terrible, kindly, inexorable voice. “I think you should take some time. This has been a lot to absorb. When we talk again—”

She didn’t wait for him to finish. More than anything in the world, she wanted to be away from this room where she had taught killers, where one of her own Elders had trapped her in the master’s mysterious plans. She was through the door before she could think, footsteps pounding in her ears, running down the stairs and through the passageways and toward the only person in these caves she could even think of trusting.



Sorin was fast asleep when Ileni flung open his door, but only for a second. Then he was across the room, pressing her to the wall, holding a blade to her throat. Ileni froze, her breath coming in painful gasps.

His eyes met hers, cold and deadly, and the dagger’s edge pressed against her skin. Then his expression shifted into horror. He lowered the dagger and stepped back. “Ileni. That was not smart.”

“I know. I’m sorry. . . .” And this time, she didn’t even try to stop the tears.

But this time, he didn’t watch her sob from across the room.

“He’s not dead,” Ileni gasped against Sorin’s shoulder, his arms tight and strong around her. His lips brushed her hair. Her blood-streaked hair. “Absalm. He’s here, and he . . . he . . .” She pulled back slightly at his jerk of surprise. “Irun is, though. Dead, I mean.” She burst into louder sobs and buried her face in his tunic again.

To Sorin’s credit, he waited until she had calmed down before saying, in a very tight voice, “Why don’t you start from the beginning?”

So she did, starting from Bazel’s knock on her door. The only thing she left out was the worst thing that had happened that night: the final loss of her magic. She thought about telling him that, too, but she choked on the words.

By the time she was done, they were both sitting on the bed, side by side. Sorin held both her hands in his, and squeezed occasionally. When she was done, he said, “And you have no idea what he wants of you?”

Ileni shook her head. Her face felt tight with dried tears and blood. “But it’s part of something he’s been planning since . . . since before I was born, I think.”

“He said it was time for the Renegai and assassins to combine their talents? How is that supposed to happen?”

“I don’t know.”

“But the master knows.” Sorin let out a relieved breath.

Ileni jerked her hands out of his. “That doesn’t make me feel any better.”

“If we go to him—”

“He’ll tell me the truth? Even though Absalm wouldn’t?” She scrambled off the bed. “No. The best person to give us answers is still Karyn.”

Sorin shook his head.

“We know now that she didn’t kill anyone. Or, well, she didn’t kill Absalm and Cadrel. So she has no reason to kill me. She’s here for something else.”