Karyn stroked a finger against her cheek. “Of course I know. She honestly thought she was fooling me.” Her lip curled. “Lis always was a stupid girl.”
Which was how Karyn had known Sorin was the new master. Because she could tell Lis’s messages were going to someone new, even if Lis herself wasn’t skilled enough to realize it. But if Karyn knew, why hadn’t she stopped Lis . . .
Ileni took another step back. Karyn hadn’t stopped Lis because she could use her. To send false messages that Sorin would believe.
I know what Karyn has planned for you, Lis had taunted her.
You’re in danger now, Sorin had said, more than before. Open the portal farther, and I’ll come through to you.
“You told Lis I was here, back when you first brought me, because you wanted Sorin to know.” Ileni forced herself to stop moving. There was nowhere to run, not anymore. “And you told Lis I was in danger. That you planned to torture and kill me. So she would pass it along.”
Karyn laughed. “Oh, yes. Right after talking to you, she flew away from the Academy so she could communicate with your lover. I’d imagine he’s ready to play the hero.”
Ileni didn’t doubt it. She didn’t doubt it even before the air around them wavered, the ripple of power making her whole body vibrate.
“No,” Ileni said. Above the spire, the sky was solid and heavy. She screamed, “Sorin, don’t!”
But he was already there.
He stood atop the Judgment Spire like a bird poised for flight, a powerful and graceful creature, slim and taut against the fierce blue sky. He kicked the wooden dog over the side, and it fell, tumbling through the air and banging against the side of the spire.
Ileni met his gaze across the vastness of the space between them. His eyes were black and fathomless. And there she stood, on a windy plateau, alone with two imperial sorcerers.
Only two. Because Karyn hadn’t dared wait long enough to summon the others. She needed Sorin to think it was Ileni, on her own, opening the portal.
So he wouldn’t suspect there was a trap waiting for him.
Ileni began to laugh, high and wild. Both sorcerers stared at her, but she didn’t care. For a moment, she didn’t even care which side she was on.
Karyn had made a fatal mistake.
Ileni felt the sorceress’s trap being sprung, a surge of magic that twisted and zigzagged across the vast space between the plateau and the spire, headed for Sorin. She didn’t bother to shout a warning. She just watched.
There was nothing to watch, not until the last second. The spell was invisible.
So was the shield Sorin had prepared.
It was all silent menace and still blue sky, and Sorin, motionless, a dark shadow with white-blond hair. Silent as a picture, until the spell hit the shield and the world erupted.
Light flared between them, all around them, so bright Ileni threw her hands over her eyes. When she peeked between her fingers, there was nothing but the light, blazing white, covering Karyn and Sorin and the space between them. Ileni sensed the two sources of light pushing at each other, one trying to overpower the other, but there was no visual sign of a fight. Just the light, vast and burning.
Then it exploded, so bright it wasn’t even a color, and Karyn screamed.
Ileni didn’t turn, not until a thud—and Evin’s horrified gasp—jerked her attention from Sorin. Karyn lay crumpled on the ground, eyes closed, unmoving. She wasn’t dead, but it would take her a while to recover from the backlash.
Ileni wondered how long it would take Karyn to understand her error, in assuming Sorin wouldn’t be prepared for a trap sprung by Ileni.
He did love her. But he wasn’t stupid.
A flicker of motion made her whirl back to the spire. Sorin lifted his hand, and a blurred black line flew across the blue sky. Not magic. Just a dagger. It flashed right past Ileni, passing inches from her shoulder.
This time, Evin’s gasp ended in a choked scream.
This time, Ileni leaped for him when she heard the thud.
She wasn’t in time to catch him. He fell backward, his body hitting the plateau hard. Ileni skidded across the few steps between them and dropped to her knees, right into the pool of blood spreading across the gray stone.
Evin’s eyes were wide and dark with panic. Ileni grabbed his hand and couldn’t help reaching for the magic, desperately and hopelessly. The lodestones were so close, and they might as well not have been there at all. She couldn’t heal him.
“Evin,” she whispered, and saw a drop of water hit his cheek before she realized she was crying. He blinked and tried to lift his hand toward her, but his arm fell back to the ground. He shifted his head slightly, so it rested against her leg.
“Ileni,” he gasped, and let his magic go. His eyes met hers. “It’s yours.”