Death Marked (Death Sworn #2)

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.

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