She fitted herself into the loop with some awkwardness, grasped tightly with both hands, and closed her eyes. That proved to be a mistake when the rope’s first upward jerk slammed her head against the rock wall. She opened her eyes hastily and used her feet to push herself away from the cliff as the ground and the river receded below. Sorin’s magelight traveled with her, and from this height the water looked like flat black marble, as still as the white rock that cut sharply against it.
When she finally scrambled onto the clifftop and untangled herself from the rope, Sorin gave her what seemed like an approving nod before re-coiling the rope and stuffing it into his pack. He tilted his head at the ground. “Looks like you were right.”
A pair of narrow footprints was barely visible in the dirt covering the rock.
“Those weren’t here last time,” Sorin said.
Ileni stared at him. “Last time, when you were chasing down Bazel? I think you might have missed them.”
“No,” Sorin said flatly.
She opened her mouth, then decided not to argue. “All right. Apparently Karyn is still here.” She drew in a long breath. “Let’s find out what she can tell us.”
Sorin reached over and touched her cheek. He rubbed a finger against her skin, then flicked off a sliver of dried blood.
Heat rushed to Ileni’s face. “Sorry.”
“About what?” Sorin grinned at her. “You should be proud. You bested Irun.”
A wave of nausea rolled through her. She could still faintly smell blood, as if it was caked into her nostrils. “Don’t compliment me. It was self-defense. I didn’t want to. . . .” Except she had. When she had driven the knife in, she had wanted to kill him. She had hated him and wanted him dead.
She turned away, and Sorin said roughly, “I didn’t—Ileni, don’t. It doesn’t matter. If you hadn’t killed Irun, I would have done it for you.”
And he wouldn’t have pretended it was anything but revenge. It wouldn’t have bothered him at all.
“It’s a good thing you didn’t,” she said, more harshly than she had intended. “Whatever this thing is between us, I’m certain it wouldn’t survive my watching you murder someone.”
Sorin went perfectly still, then turned his back on her. “Let’s hope you’re powerful enough to make Karyn cooperate, then.”
Ileni took a deep breath. It wasn’t fair, to lead him into this blind. “I can’t—I can’t fight her. You don’t know—”
“Don’t worry,” he said stiffly. “If Irun could best an imperial sorcerer, so can I.”
“Or she could kill you.”
He shrugged. “Of course.”
Ileni fought to control her breathing. He was being reckless, yes, but also brave; and he was, after all, doing it for her. She gestured at the stretch of rock ahead of them. “After you.”
The trail led steadily downward along the unevenly sloping rock. The footprints disappeared after a few minutes, but Sorin kept going, his eyes darting from the ground to the boulders piled around them to the stalactites hanging above. Whatever hints of passage he was following, Ileni couldn’t see them, but she walked behind him silently. Once the way was wide enough for them to walk side by side, she reached for his hand, and was relieved when his warm fingers closed around hers. Suddenly she found herself blinking back tears, and was glad he was concentrating too hard on the ground ahead of them to notice.
After another few minutes, the trail hit a wall, and Sorin let go of her hand so he could squeeze through a narrow crevice and climb onto a ledge. The ledge became a tunnel, so low Ileni was forced to pull herself forward by her forearms, her body scraping along the stones.
The tunnel seemed to go on forever. She had to keep her head down to avoid banging it on the craggy ceiling, so it was impossible to get a sense of how far she had to go or even of how far they had gone. Twice she thought about calling ahead to Sorin, asking him to slow down. Each time, she opened her mouth and then forced it shut, pulling herself onward.
Then the scraping of Sorin’s body ahead of her came to an abrupt halt, and she pulled forward so hard she scratched her arm on a sharp rock. A moment later, she was able to get to her knees, and then to her feet. Relief swept through her as she stood upright, before she saw the empty space in front of them.
The ground dropped away abruptly, as if it had been sliced off by magic. Below them was a vast darkness, a space so wide and deep she couldn’t see any hint of rock formations either across or below.
“She must have gone another way,” Ileni suggested hopefully. But Sorin already had the rope out, and was tying it firmly around her legs and waist.
“You’ll have to go first this time.” His fingers skimmed over her tunic as he tied the rope, and lingered briefly at her waist. “It will be easier for you if I’m controlling the rope from up here.”
Ileni looked down into the chasm, then at Sorin.
“All right,” she said.
His quick, surprised grin kept her from balking, until the rope was secured around her and she balanced at the edge of the cliff, her back to the gaping emptiness behind her. Then panic rose in her, so swiftly she couldn’t fight it. “Sorin—”
“Lean back. Once you can feel the rope holding you, you won’t be afraid.”
He actually seemed serious. She started to twist around, and Sorin said sharply, “Don’t look down. Look at me.”
She looked at him. His eyes were as black as the space behind her, his features sharp, shadowed lines. He looked fierce and dangerous, but he was waiting, patiently, for her. His strong hands were clenched firmly around the rope.
She kept her eyes trained on his and leaned back, even as her instincts screamed at her to stop before she fell.
Sorin was right. As soon as she had passed the point where she should have fallen screaming into the abyss, she felt the rope tighten around her, holding her aloft. She braced her feet against the cliffside, suspended horizontally above the emptiness.
Sorin’s eyes sparkled, and suddenly he didn’t look dangerous at all. “Push off with your feet.”
She bent her knees and pushed her feet away from the cliff. Sorin let the rope out, and she arced out into the darkness before landing back against the side of the cliff, several yards lower. She laughed aloud, and pushed off again even before she heard Sorin’s answering laugh.
It felt like flying. Exhilaration surged through her as she pushed herself harder and harder against the cliffside, flew out farther and faster, until she could barely see Sorin’s form above her.
And then the cliffside ended.
She realized it a moment before her next swing took her down and under the rock. Her head grazed the lower edge of the cliff, and then she was swinging uncontrollably through the darkness, waiting for the crash that would tear her loose and send her plunging to her death.
“Ileni!” Sorin shouted from above.
Her reply was a strangled gasp. The cliff had veered inward so sharply she could no longer reach it, so she had nothing to brace her feet against, no way to slow her motion. Panic seared through her.
Then, as she swung wildly away from the rocks again, the rope jerked upward, bringing her back up to where the cliffside was within reach. She put her feet out and they thudded against rock. She whimpered, bending her knees, swinging away again without wanting to—but not as far, this time, and not as fast. Another two swings and she was stable again, her feet braced against the rock, the rope trembling but still.
She would never have believed this could feel like safety. But it did. She didn’t look down at the cavernous emptiness below her.
“There’s no more cliff,” she called up. Her voice trembled.
“Then I’ll lower the rope slowly until you hit the bottom. Hold on tight.”
“Wait—” But the rope was already letting out, and her feet slid across the rock and dangled into emptiness. Her body jerked as she clung tighter to the rope, and it began to twist, swinging her sickeningly from side to side as she was lowered deeper into the cave.
Then, with a jerk, the downward motion stopped. The twisting didn’t, and Ileni’s stomach turned upside down. Luckily, since she hadn’t eaten for hours, there was nothing to spew up.
“Sorin?”
“We’re out of rope.” His voice was distant but clear. “Just a second.”
Something whizzed past her, and she heard a splash from below.
“Good,” Sorin said. “That distance should be safe to jump.”
Ileni thought wistfully back to the time when she hadn’t cared much whether she died. Then, trying not to think about what she was doing, she began extricating herself from the harness.
She needn’t have worried about giving herself time to think. In the struggle to untangle herself, she lost hold of the rope. A brief, terrifying plunge downward, a short scream, and then frigid liquid sprayed into her face as she pitched forward on her hands and knees into shockingly icy water.
Icy, but shallow; it only came halfway up her forearms. She knelt in it, gasping, then got to her feet. Another freezing splash hit her side as Sorin landed beside her.
His magelight illuminated an underground lake so still that it was almost invisible. She could see the white rock formations beneath the water as if there was no water covering them at all. Around the banks were more structures, like tiny castles and fortresses, formed of sparkling fernlike rocks. Tendrils of stone as thin as flower stems were scattered over the ground, also in that unearthly white. Ileni drew in her breath. She felt like an intruder, heavy and awkward in a place where no human beings were ever intended to go.
“Sorin. Maybe we should—”
“Hsst!” he whispered sharply, and she clamped her mouth shut just as a new light flared ahead of them. It illuminated a chasm several feet from the edge of the lake, and beyond it a flat white rockface lined with deep cracks and framed by a vast archway of pearly stone.
Karyn stood beneath the archway, waiting for them.
Chapter 18
The sorceress stood with her legs braced apart, her face remote and calm. Her green tunic and black leggings were now dirt stained and torn, but somehow she looked almost majestic. The magelight floated several feet above her head, below a white ceiling pitted with holes and sparkling with tiny liquid droplets.
Sorin surged out of the water onto the white rock shore, moving with such grace that Ileni didn’t even hear a splash. Karyn raised one hand, and a line of thick white stalactites snapped away from the ceiling and fell directly in front of him in a series of echoing crashes. Sorin stopped short, and Ileni scrambled out of the lake to stand next to him. Water squelched in her shoes.
“Well,” Karyn said pleasantly. “Here we all are.”
Ileni shut her eyes briefly, trying to sense Karyn’s power. But the sorceress felt completely mundane, not a spark of magic in her.
Something was wrong.
Sorin stepped around the fallen rock in front of him, and Ileni followed, as if getting one step closer might make a difference. It didn’t. The chasm between them and Karyn was wide and deep, a wedge of blackness among all the ethereal white, and she still couldn’t sense any magic.
“We’re here to talk,” Sorin said.
“So am I.” Karyn smiled. “But not to you.”
She swiveled to face Ileni. Ileni’s stomach tightened, and she lifted her chin.
“Confused about me, aren’t you?” Karyn dipped her hand under her tunic. “Allow me to enlighten you.”
Sorin hissed and crouched on the balls of his feet. Ileni reached for the knife under her tunic. But all Karyn did was hold up a perfectly round stone, so small it fit neatly into the palm of her hand.
The breath went out of Ileni’s body in a whoosh. The stone was beautiful—glassy and clear, with dozens of shimmering colors swirling beneath its surface—and it lit up all her senses with the feel of magic, of power. Of everything she had lost.