Death Sworn(82)

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you—”

His hand touched her cheek, a faint nudge. That was all the encouragement she needed to lift her face so his mouth could land on hers. She clung to him desperately, trying to find what she had found in his kisses before: forgetfulness.

But it didn’t work. She couldn’t stop thinking about the lodestone, tumbling away into the darkness. About how it had brushed her fingers, sending tingles of power through her, making her feel, for a second, like herself.

The dark power she had abhorred her entire life. The source of the Empire’s evil.

It can only be used by someone with no power.

But someone who knew how to use magical power. Someone who had the skill to use spells, but no power to fuel them.

Someone like her.

That’s why this deception was necessary. So you could be trained in earnest.

Absalm had gone through all this to create a Renegai who could use a lodestone. But why?

She pulled away, and it was a moment before Sorin let her go. She could feel the force of his gaze even though the shadows hid his eyes.

“We should go after Karyn,” she whispered.

Sorin shook his head shortly. “I don’t see the point. We know what she wants—a way through the wards. And the master has to know about that, Ileni. This has gone too far.”

She didn’t have the energy to argue. His voice was curt and remote. Already the memory of their frantic kiss was fading away.

“So what do we do now?” she asked. She immediately wished she had waited longer, until the tremor in her voice was gone.

Sorin stepped back, letting go of her, leaving her cold and alone in the vast cavern.

“Now,” he said, “we go back.”





Chapter 19

Sorin stared up into the darkness where the rope was dangling several yards above them, eyebrows furrowed. He must have expected that once they were done with Karyn, Ileni would be able to fly them back up. Ileni bit her lip, awkwardly silent, trying and failing to come up with a useful suggestion.

Finally Sorin strode over to one of the feathery rock formations at the side of the pool. He examined it for a second and then, with a swift, efficient kick, broke it off at its base. It cracked at once, shattering into a jumble of white rock. He dragged the larger pieces into the pool.

By the time he had constructed a haphazard mountain of stones, the chamber was full of broken rocks, scattered and shapeless, its ethereal quality gone forever. The destruction sent a pang through Ileni: a place of beauty and grace turned into a twisted, senseless mess.

Ileni climbed silently after Sorin to the top of his construction, not making a sound even when rocks fell away under her feet or when Sorin tied her into the harness and then shimmied up the rope so he could pull her up.

Sorin was silent, too, during the climb back down to the river and the laborious journey through the maze of boulders. It was more difficult than the way there had been. He lowered her down the cliffside and helped her over some of the more precarious rocks. But the few times he spoke to her—out of necessity—the neutral tone of his voice made her want to cry. Or hit him. Anything, to make him look at her with a real expression on his face.

“Sorin,” she forced herself to say when they dragged themselves through the narrow tunnel and crouched below the low ceiling at its end. He stopped. “What can the master do, even if we tell him?”

“I don’t know,” he said, in that same removed tone. “But he’ll figure something out. Something we haven’t thought of.”

“Sorin—”

He vaulted out of the tunnel, then stopped short, only his head visible to her. Ileni rushed after him, once again banging her head on the rocks above her.

Absalm was waiting for them in the cavern, his arms crossed over his chest.

And a caveful of assassins stood behind him.

Ileni stumbled to a stop next to Sorin. Absalm’s face was hard and angry, and the assassins were a mass of gray tunics and blank, intent eyes.

“How could you be this foolhardy?” Absalm snarled. “She’s an imperial sorceress!”

The Renegai part of her shriveled before an Elder’s wrath. “How did you know—”

“I have my magic,” he said pointedly. “But even if you did—even at the height of your power—she still could have killed you. And then your entire life, my entire life, all our plans, would have died with you.”