Awakening (Infinity Blade 1)

Siris stood in a fluid motion, whipping the Infinity Blade free and leveling it at Isa’s throat.

“In my defense,” she said, “I didn’t try to murder you in your sleep. I waited for you to open your eyes first.”

“You were planning to take the sword and run,” Siris said coldly. “And if I woke and tried to stop you, you’d have killed me.”

“I—”

“You don’t point a crossbow at someone’s throat by accident, Isa,” he whispered. Hell take me! “And you damn well don’t pull the trigger by accident.” He found himself furious. He’d been growing to like her!

“Fine,” Isa said, sounding exhausted. She sat down, tossing aside the crossbow. “But don’t feign the high ground here. Don’t pretend you weren’t planning to do something similar to me one of these nights. I just acted first.”

“Do something similar . . . Isa, what reason would I have to do that!”

She regarded him flatly, but said nothing more.

Frustrating, intolerable woman! He thought. What in the name of the ancient prayers am I going to do with you?

He struggled to hold himself from ramming the blade into her chest and being done with it. She’d betrayed him! How dare she! He stepped forward and she backed up, tripping on a rock and falling so that he loomed over her.

She looked up, eyes wide in the moonlight. Well, she would know the price of treason. He would—

No! he thought to himself with some effort.

It was the blasted sword. It was doing things to him. Siris forced himself to slam the Infinity Blade back into its sheath. He was going to have to find one that fit it better, eventually.

Isa let out a long breath. She hid her fear well, but her hands were shaking. Couldn’t she have simply been content with her “price”?

She knew things. Much more than she was sharing. He could make her speak of them. He could force her to—

No! Heaven take this cursed blade!

“Go,” he said to her, surprised at how ragged his voice was. “Take your horse and your things. Leave.”

“You’re . . . you’re letting me go? And I can take the horse?”

Siris said nothing.

“You’re going to stab me as I turn away,” she said. “Run me down. I . . . You . . .” She was rambling, shaken, as she sat where she had tripped. Her hair was loose, having fallen from its ponytail. She seemed baffled.

“You can take the horse,” Siris said, “because I am no thief. You can leave, because I don’t seek death without reason.”

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. It was supposed to be faceless enemies, fought in honorable duels. Not crossbow bolts in the night from people he was starting to trust.

“Let me stay,” she said.

“Are you mad? You think—”

“Tie me up at nights,” she said. “I’ll give you all of my weapons. You ride the horse; I’ll walk in front. No chance for betrayal. No need for trust. But let me stay.”

“What reason could I possibly have to want you around?”

“Saydhi.”

“Excuse me?”

“She’s one of the Deathless,” Isa said. “She has lands that border those of the God King. She’s less powerful than him, but has managed to remain autonomous. She’s an information dealer. If anyone knows where the Worker of Secrets is, it will be her.”

Siris rubbed the hilt of the Infinity Blade. The Worker of Secrets. Did he really want to find the man?

If he created this weapon, Siris thought, he’ll know how to use it. It would be right to give it up to him. He’d fight the Deathless better than I ever could.

Siris could find the freedom he craved and do something good in the name of his people. It was a tempting, tantalizing prospect.

Isa was still watching him.

“I don’t have anything to offer this Saydhi,” he said. “If she deals in information, I’ll have to pay her something dear to get her to give up the location of the Worker. The only thing of value I have is this blade, and I’m not going to deliver it back into the hands of one of the Deathless.”

“You won’t need to,” Isa said. “Saydhi has a standing invitation. She loves duels. Any man who can best her champions wins a boon. Fight your way to her, and she’ll answer a question for you.”

Siris gripped the blade’s hilt. It could be a lie. Isa could be leading him into a trap. She probably was.

But, hell take him, there was something in her eyes. A frankness, a sincerity, that he hadn’t seen before. This night had shaken her. He couldn’t fathom why she wouldn’t just run, perhaps take the chance to gather reinforcements and hunt him down. Wouldn’t that make more sense than a convoluted trap?

He still wanted to trust her. What was wrong with him? Maybe he should pay more attention to the hateful thoughts the sword seemed to be trying to force on him.

“Fetch your rope,” he said, blinking. Ancient Prayers, but he was tired! “I’ll sleep on it.”

Chapter Five

Siris awoke, feeling stiff. He groaned, rolling over, looking at the sun, which was just cresting the horizon. That hadn’t been nearly enough sleep.

He was accustomed to resting on hard stone of course, and to going without sleep. Both had been part of his training. He’d needed to be tough, as tough as a man could be. But even with that training, he was tired. He’d forced himself to remain awake much of the night, waiting to see if Isa had some hidden method of escaping the ropes.

Isa. He turned with a start, half expecting to find the woman gone. She still lay on the ground where he’d put her.

Siris sat up, rubbing his chin. Her blanket had pulled free in the night, but with her hands bound behind her back and tied to her ankles, she obviously hadn’t been able to get it back on. He felt a stab of guilt, but remembering the crossbow aimed at his throat banished the emotion. She had decided to stay; she had suggested the bindings. He wouldn’t feel bad for doing the job well.

He walked over and untied her. She started awake, then watched him silently with reddened eyes. She’d slept as poorly as he had.

He wound the rope, then did his morning sword practices, going through the Aegis Forms one at a time in slow motion, breathing in and out. He kept an eye on Isa, who watched him with a curious expression. For some reason, he found her observation unnerving, and he made more mistakes in the forms than he had in a long while.

Finished, he wiped his brow and stowed the Infinity Blade, and then—to be doing something—he started packing the horse. The surly brute gave him a glare that seemed to indicate it knew what Siris had done. The thing even tried to bite him a few times.

Cross ‘riding a horse’ off my list of things to do, he told himself. These beasts are horrid.

“You’re packing him too heavily,” Isa said, walking up behind. “He can’t carry all of that and you too.”

“He won’t be carrying me,” Siris said, finishing tying on his bundle of armor. Oddly, the saddle suddenly seemed loose.

Isa snorted and walked over, gently pushing him aside and redoing the saddle. “So we’re both walking?”

“I sure as heaven am not getting up on that beast,” Siris said, shaking his hand where the horse had nicked him. Weren’t horses supposed to be placid grass-eaters? He’d met cave bears with better temperaments.

Packing done, Isa walked back to the camp and spared a glance for the discarded crossbow.

“How easy would that be to fix?” Siris asked.

“Tough,” she said. “We’d need a specialist.”

It seemed a waste to leave the weapon. Siris picked it up and managed to discharge the bolt—it had sat in place all night—by pressing his knife against the catch. Then he fetched the trigger mechanism and stowed both on the horse.

As he was working, he heard thunder. He frowned up at the clear sky.

“Back!” Isa hissed, grabbing his arm. He barely kept from drawing the sword on her, and instead allowed her to tow him and the horse to the side of the hill. She crouched down, watching the road.

A group of mounted knights in black stormed down the roadway, coming as if from the God King’s palace. Siris’s breath caught in his throat. He had little doubt they were hunting him.

He and Isa crouched beside the hill for a long time, the thunder of the horses’ hooves growing softer in the distance. Siris swallowed.

“They’re heading north,” Isa said.

In the direction I told the daerils I’d be going, he thought. Well, his false trail was working. That was something. Hopefully, they would have asked the peasants about him, and found that he was indeed traveling this way. Drawing them away from his home was vital.

He should have been watching for pursuit; he hadn’t realized they’d come after him so quickly. He’d intended to travel on the road for a while, to give confirmation to those pursuing him that this was the way he’d gone. Then he’d planned to cut out a different direction. He’d probably stayed on the road too long; he hadn’t ever done anything like this before.

“Is there a way to get to this other Deathless by going cross-country?” he asked.