Authors: Leah Cypess
But beneath her despair ran a tingle of hope. If her whole past was a lie, it changed the possibilities for her future. Maybe the Empire wasn’t evil. Maybe using the magic wasn’t so wrong.
And if so, maybe she wouldn’t have to give it up after all.
“B
lue really isn’t your color.” Cyn’s cool voice interrupted Ileni’s spell, making her jump. Strands of magic scattered through the room. “With your complexion, I would try orange. Or maybe dark green.”
Ileni unclenched her muscles, one by one, and pulled the magic back in. She had been planning to use it to lengthen her dress, but instead she took the time to turn the dress even bluer—until it was the shade of the sky through her small window—before she turned around, as slowly as she could manage.
Cyn was leaning in the doorway, wearing black leggings
and a black tunic with a single red stripe across its front. She tilted her head back against the wall. “Just some friendly advice.”
You know
, Ileni thought sourly,
when I lived with assassins, my door was warded.
What she said, as she smoothed down the front of her dress, was, “What are you doing here? Did you forget to show me a really,
really
nasty way to kill people?”
“Several,” Cyn said. She wasn’t joking.
Ileni rolled her eyes. “I can’t wait.”
Cyn shrugged. “Sorry for the intrusion, but you’re the first worthy sparring partner I’ve had in years. Lis is barely worth spending magic on, and Evin is too lazy to be interesting. Want to get in some practice before breakfast?”
Ileni hesitated, so she could tell herself she had, before she pulled in more magic and strode toward the door. “Sure.”
Ileni and Cyn strolled into breakfast together, late and sweat soaked. Evin looked from one of them to the other, then tilted his head back and studied the stone ceiling. “I think we’re all in trouble.”
“Where’s Lis?” Ileni asked.
“She had somewhere she had to be.” Cyn said it smugly, for some reason, as she slid onto the bench. Breakfast today
consisted of some sort of strongly scented thin noodles, already heaped into ceramic bowls. Next to each bowl lay three oddly shaped sticks. Ileni eyed both the noodles and the sticks doubtfully. “Don’t worry, Evin. Apply yourself at practice today and you just might catch up to us.”
“Tempting.” Evin twirled noodles onto the sticks with practiced ease. Ileni tried to pay attention to how he did it. “But I’m going to be practicing with Arxis today.”
Ileni’s gaze shot from Evin’s hands to his face. Cyn scowled. “Arxis is barely a second-level.”
“At magic.” Evin slid some noodles into his mouth and spoke around them. “But at kobi, he’s a master.”
Before Ileni could say,
What is kobi?
, Cyn said, “Karyn
will
get back eventually, you know.”
“And then I will be very, very contrite.” Evin’s grin included Ileni. “You could both come. We’ll play with only three dice, for low stakes, to ease Ileni into it. And apparently you’ve had all the combat practice you need today.”
“Say that when you’re facing an assassin.” Cyn flicked a strand of hair away from her eyes. “Besides, not all of us get the benefits of being the headmistress’s nephew.”
“More to the point,” Evin said, “not all of us know how to act contrite.”
There were so many things Ileni should ask. But when she opened her mouth, what came out was, “You shouldn’t spend so much time with Arxis.”
Cyn picked up her own sticks, all three in one hand, and said, mildly, “I think he’s probably harmless if you don’t fall in love with him.”
Ileni snapped her jaw shut. “I didn’t—”
“Attack him when you first met? With a
dagger
? We all heard about it.” Cyn sounded amused, but it was Evin she was watching, not Ileni. Ileni braced herself for one of Evin’s quips, but he was suddenly quite focused on his noodles.
She bent her head over her food. Let them believe it. It wasn’t as if she had a better explanation.
Or as if Evin would believe her warning, anyhow.
Besides, what did she care? She wasn’t one of them. She was on a mission, too. The real question might be whether Arxis killed Evin before she did.
When they stepped out onto the mountain ledge after breakfast, cold droplets pelted Ileni’s face. A gray-white sky spread across the mountains, spitting rain, and fog wreathed around the craggy peaks, softening their harsh edges.
A jolt of homesickness took Ileni by surprise. She hadn’t
even
wanted
to go home, back when she’d thought she had to. But in the Renegai village, rain was a nearly everyday occurrence, though it was usually swept swiftly away by the mountain winds. With a day of training ahead of her, with magic flowing through her and the rain forming a cool mist against her face, she could almost have been home.
Almost
. With just a few slight differences. The loneliness reared up within her, threatening to overwhelm her, and she shoved it down fiercely. She didn’t have time for that.
On a ledge on one of the farther peaks, a line of people walked slowly alongside the mountain, holding rain shields in tight formation. Someone else—an instructor, probably—flew next to them, directing the raindrops in torrents against the shield. A training exercise.
“Well,” Evin said, “you know what I call this? Napping weather.”
“You would,” Cyn said, with the same disdain Ileni felt.
Evin laughed again. Even after only two days, his laugh was starting to grate on Ileni, like a wrongly accented spell. He seemed incapable of taking anything seriously. She waited for Cyn to put him in his place.
But Cyn just sighed, and a moment later Evin soared away, a speeding black line against the roiling gray clouds.
Cyn held a hand out to Ileni. “Want to fly?”
Ileni hesitated. But it was too damp and too early for noble gestures. She took Cyn’s hand.
Her shoulder was nearly jerked out of its socket as Cyn leaped upward, pulling her along so fast the wind split in front of them. After the first moment of terror, Ileni used a touch of magic to hold herself streamlined, the wind beating at her face and whipping her hair back. The distant treetops sped beneath them, and Cyn laughed, wild and exhilarated.
They slowed down at the last moment and landed gently on the plateau. Ileni let go of Cyn’s hand and swayed unsteadily. She was breathing hard, even though she hadn’t been the one doing the work, and a laugh bubbled out of her.
Cyn’s expression was sheer joy, and Ileni’s laugh died. Her own exhilaration was tainted by envy, deep in the pit of her stomach.
“What does someone have to do,” she said, “to get one of those lodestone bracelets?”
As soon as the question was out of her mouth, she was struck with horror at herself. But Cyn, of course, found it perfectly natural. She ran her fingers through her hair and shook it out. “First you have to test for eighth-level, of course, and do the containment training.”
It was not, Ileni had realized by now, that Cyn was trying to make her feel stupid. She truly didn’t grasp how ignorant Ileni was of things she took for granted. Usually Ileni let it pass—she didn’t particularly want Cyn to see her as ignorant—but this time she gritted her teeth and said, “What does that mean?”
Cyn blinked. “You don’t know . . . well, I guess you wouldn’t. It would take a long time to explain. But I’m not sure how much it matters for you. Even after the required trainings, it’s still up to Karyn. And she doesn’t seem to trust you.” She grimaced. “Can you think of a way to win her over?”
By turning traitor.
Though of course, Cyn wouldn’t see it that way.
Cyn summoned up a globe of pink light and began twirling it slowly through the air—warming up. “Don’t think having Evin on your side will help, either. He might be Karyn’s nephew, but he doesn’t exactly go out of his way to curry favor with her.”
“I noticed.” Ileni hesitated. “He’s her nephew? Where are his parents?”
“His parents are dead.” The pink globe stilled. “His mother was a battle commander, and his father was high
sorcerer. That family has always had incredible amounts of power.”
Ileni blinked. “The high sorcerer who—”
“Was murdered by assassins.” Cyn muttered a word, and the globe began to spin, faster and faster. “The first high sorcerer to ever fall to a mundane blade. His mother wasn’t a sorceress, but she was murdered by assassins, too.”
It’s so easy
, Irun had said,
once you’re not afraid
. Evin’s father might have been the first, but he wouldn’t be the last.
Was Evin intended to be the second? It made perfect sense, if you thought like an assassin. It would be a deadly warning, a double strike, spreading fear exponentially. A clear message:
We can kill any of you whenever we want.
The only question was why Arxis hadn’t done it yet.
A thud behind her signaled Lis’s arrival on the plateau. A moment later, Lis stormed past Ileni toward Cyn, hair swinging violently back and forth. She stopped in front of her sister, her shoulders so tense they shook.
“That,” Lis spat, “was quite the mess you left.”
Cyn’s exuberance sharpened into an edged smile. “I hope it wasn’t too much trouble. If you’re feeling faint, perhaps you should lie down.”
Lis aimed a crude spell at the pink globe. It popped and
vanished. “If you’re feeling proud of what you did, perhaps you should jump off the edge of the mountain.”
Cyn patted her sister on the cheek, making Lis pull back with a hiss. Cyn glanced at Ileni. “Ignore her. Lis is always in a bad mood when she comes back from a battlefield.”
“Battlefield?” Now Ileni noticed that Lis, too, was wearing a black tunic with a red stripe across its front.
“Just a minor skirmish in the mountains,” Cyn said. “One of the battle commanders asked for my help just before dawn. It took less than an hour. Bracing start to the morning, in fact.”
She was talking to Ileni, but her words were clearly aimed at her sister. Lis’s lips whitened.
“In the mountains?” Ileni’s heart thumped sickeningly. “Against the Renegai?”
Cyn gave her a blank, confused look. Ileni swallowed. No, of course not. But if not the Renegai . . . “Against the assassins?”
Lis’s head snapped up. Cyn laughed. “There’s no such thing as a
minor
skirmish against the assassins.”
“You’re thinking of the wrong mountains,” Lis cut in. “This battle was in the south. Today we brought the might of the Empire—”
“Meaning me.” Cyn curtsied.
“—against some fishermen with swords. My sister really outdid herself. It was very brave.”
“These things flare up from time to time,” Cyn explained to Ileni. “Something sets off a segment of the local populace, and they try to start a rebellion. It’s kindest to crush it as soon as possible, before too many people get involved. This time it was about some imperial soldier taking a piss in a holy lake.”
“And Cyn was so
terribly
kind,” Lis said.
Cyn’s hands flexed. For a moment, Ileni was afraid for Lis.
“So many dead,” Lis went on. “And so
creatively
dead, too. You must have really enjoyed yourself.”
“Would you rather it be our own soldiers who died?” Cyn snapped. “Or that we let the Empire fall to pieces?”
“Wouldn’t
you
rather it was our soldiers?” Lis said, poisonous and sweet. “For the good of the Empire. Think how many lodestones would be in the training arena now.”
What did that mean? But Ileni didn’t dare ask a question; she barely dared breathe.
“That part,” Cyn snarled, “is not on
my
conscience.” Lis flinched, and Cyn laughed, low and vicious. “What, do you see yourself as innocent?”
“No,” Lis said. Her face was twisted so savagely it no longer resembled her sister’s. “None of us are innocent. It’s just that some of us know it, and some of us don’t. Tell Ileni why we always rush into battle so fast. Is it because we’re
kind
?”
“Shut up, Lis,” Cyn said.
“The real reason,” Lis said, “is because we win either way. Tell her, Cyn.”
“We fight because we have to,” Cyn snapped. “I’m not happy about the rebels’ deaths. I just prefer them to
our
deaths. Terribly selfish of me, I know. Lis, if you’re not going to be useful, why don’t you go sleep your mood off?”
“I’m sure it would be that easy,” Lis said, “for you. You’re so good at not thinking about things that might make you uncomfortable.”
“One of the advantages,” Cyn said, “of having things that are actually important to think about.”
Lis slapped her sister across the face.
Cyn stepped back, her cheek mottled red. She spat out a series of vicious spell words, then raised her hand, fist clenched, and spread her fingers. A black fog rolled from her hand, slowly, almost lazily—until it reached Lis. Then, swift as a striking snake, it shot into Lis’s nose and throat.
Lis opened her mouth to scream. Black smoke came out, but no sound.
Tiny tendrils of smoke began leaking out of her skin—slowly, slowly, through her pores, then wreathing gracefully around her body. Lis’s eyes widened, and smoke poured out of them, too. Translucent black vines wrapped around her head, twining through her hair.
“Stop it,” Ileni said. Cyn was smiling, a tight, vengeful smile. Ileni darted forward and grabbed Cyn’s hand.
“Stop it!”
Cyn tried to slap her away, but Ileni had learned enough in the Assassins’ Caves to outfight one distracted sorceress. She blocked the blow and yanked Cyn sideways. Cyn swore, then turned the curse into a snarled phrase that ended the spell.
Lis collapsed on the plateau. She lay huddled for a moment on the ground, a series of tremors rippling up and down her body. Then she pressed her forehead to the ground and vanished, leaving a small damp patch of tears on the gray stone.
Ileni let go of Cyn’s arm, shaking all over. Disappointment clogged her throat—but why? Because Cyn had been friendly? Because they’d been having
fun
? Cyn was an imperial sorceress, with everything that implied. Trained in pain, thriving on conflict.