Infinity Blade 01- Awakening

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