The Spell Realm (16 page)

Blaise smiled at her, his pulse slowly returning to normal. “I see. Well, I can assure you that the rest of us make errors all the time.”

She smiled back at him, and then a mischievous expression stole across her face. “I have something for you,” she said, looking as excited as a child on her birthday. “A gift of sorts.”

“What is it?”

“Close your eyes,” she said, moving behind him and placing her small palms over his face. “Let’s go back to where you met with Ganir.”

“You expect me to navigate the chaise like this?”

“Well, I can also teleport us there—”

“No, that’s all right,” Blaise said quickly. “I’ll navigate.” And doing his best to remember where they needed to go, he directed the chaise to fly in that general direction, with Gala occasionally correcting their course.

“Stop here,” she finally said, taking her palms away, and Blaise blinked a few times, letting his eyes get used to the bright light again. “There it is,” she said, pointing down, and he looked in that direction.

What he saw made him stop breathing for a second. “Is that . . . is that my house?” he finally managed to ask, turning toward Gala. The large structure was sitting in the rocky canyon below, looking as intact as he had seen it the last time in Turingrad.

“It is.” She gave him a huge smile. “You said you wished you still had access to your work, so I brought it here for you.”

“Brought it how?”

“I teleported it, of course.”

Blaise’s jaw fell open. He had never heard of anyone teleporting such a large object over this kind of distance. It was possible in theory, but not doable in practice. Unless one had a mind forged in the Spell Realm, he thought with awe, staring at the beautiful young woman sitting next to him.

“Do you like it?” she asked uncertainly, her blue gaze clouding over when he didn’t say anything, and Blaise shook off the remnants of his astonishment, reaching over to take her hand.

“Gala, I love it,” he told her sincerely, and watched her face brighten again.

“Do you want to go inside?” she asked excitedly. “Here, let’s land.”

Grinning, Blaise directed the chaise to the ground. As soon as they got down, he jumped off and headed into the house, his own excitement growing with every moment. His study was here. His archive room. All of his notes. Well, at least the ones that Augusta hadn’t destroyed, he thought with a trace of anger. Pushing the unpleasant memory of their confrontation—and of Ganir’s recent visit—out of his mind, he concentrated on Gala’s amazing offering.

Entering the house, he gazed around the familiar surroundings, struck by a feeling of nostalgia. All of his things—paintings, statues, even the green needle-sword that had traveled to the Spell Realm—they were all here, just as he remembered. Even though Blaise had been home not too long ago, so much had happened that it was strange to be here, where he had spent so much time since Louie’s death. The house had been his sanctuary from the outside world—and now he had it again, thanks to Gala’s incredible abilities.

“You could watch that Life Capture now,” Gala said, catching up with him. “The one that Ganir gave you.”

Blaise stopped dead in his tracks. Had Gala come up with a way to read his mind?

“I was there when you had your conversation,” she admitted, looking a bit sheepish.

“You were?” Blaise frowned in confusion.

Gala nodded, and began explaining how she had managed to turn herself invisible after he asked her to leave.

“You’re getting much better at controlling your magic,” Blaise said after she was done. He knew he should be upset that she hadn’t listened to him, but he was too amazed and proud of her achievements. She was already performing feats that he’d once thought impossible.

As they walked past the library, Gala paused, looking into the room filled with books. Seeing the longing on her face, Blaise smiled. “Would you like to read some more?” he asked, and grinned when she practically jumped in excitement.

“Yes, I would love that!” Her eyes were shining. “There are still many books that I haven’t read. Do you mind if I take a look at them?”

“No, go ahead,” Blaise told her. “I will check on the droplet Ganir gave me in the meantime.”

And leaving Gala to her reading, he walked toward his study.

* * *

As he approached his study, Blaise hesitated, his thoughts dwelling on the information Ganir had given him. He hadn’t realized that the droplets could be preserved—and now that he knew, he couldn’t stop thinking about one particular droplet that he’d been saving.

Turning, Blaise walked down to his storage area. Entering the room, he stared at the little jars and bottles containing memories of the past couple of years. Many were recordings of his work, but some were much more personal. Stopping in front of one particular jar—the jar that had a skull-and-bones sign on it—he reached for it, picking it up with a mingled sense of fear and reverence. As far as he knew, it was the only droplet of its kind.

It contained a recording of his brother’s death—from his brother’s point of view. It had been Louie’s last act of defiance, capturing his own execution via the tool he’d shared with the commoners. It was also his last grand experiment. During the weeks leading up to his beheading, Louie had bribed a guard to bring him a Sphere. The blood splattering onto that Sphere during his execution was what allowed the recording loop to close, creating the droplet that Blaise had later retrieved.

Blaise had never dared to view it before. It was too precious to use up on a whim. Now, however, he knew he could preserve the droplet—but as he stared at it, he knew he still wasn’t brave enough to ever do it. It would be too devastating to feel his brother’s agony and know that Blaise had been unable to save him.

Drawing in a calming breath, Blaise picked up another droplet instead—the one that Ganir had just given him. As interesting as it would be to experience some memories from the past, Blaise needed to focus on the here and now—and to do that, he needed to learn if Ganir was telling the truth.

Chapter 22: Gala

The pile of books at Gala’s feet grew quickly. With each book she read, her speed seemed to increase, until she was swallowing a whole book in a matter of seconds.

Blaise had quite the collection when it came to subjects that interested Gala. She tackled verbal spell casting first, devouring texts both modern and ancient. It seemed that every sorcerer, every author, had his or her own approach to coding, yet there were patterns in common as well. When Gala couldn’t find any more books on this subject, she moved on to written spell casting.

There were fewer books on this topic, since it was a new invention, but there was still enough material to keep her occupied for a number of minutes. As she consumed the texts, she found it amusing how much less variability there was in the code for written spells. It seemed that now that spells could be reused, sorcerers just copied the same component spells over and over, instead of trying to improve on existing offerings or starting from scratch.

Depleting the books on sorcery, Gala went for anything that could give her a better understanding of how the world worked. Chemistry, physics, mathematics, biology, psychology—she knew that these were as important to sorcery as the code itself. Though her ultimate goal was to control her spells, she enjoyed learning about how the natural world functioned. Oxygen, for instance . . . Gala found it mind-blowing that it was an element in both the air that she breathed and the water that she drank. It was also crucial for controlling fire spells.

After she was done reading, the pile of books surrounding her was waist-high.

Examining herself for a moment, Gala realized that she could now say or write many spells. There wasn’t anything in the books that she would not be able to do. However, she wanted more. She knew that her way—how she’d sporadically done sorcery before—was more direct and more powerful. More pure, in a sense. With the new knowledge she’d absorbed, she felt like she was on the cusp of understanding how her mind worked. In a way, it was like the Interpreter Stone, except it used her thoughts and emotions as inputs, rather than cards. All she needed to do was shape those thoughts and emotions properly.

She decided to try something—a feat of teleportation, something she was already beginning to master. She saw in her mind how a verbal spell would sound that would teleport all the books on the floor to their original place. She then visualized how that would read as written code. And then, clearing her mind with slow breathing, she tried to do it directly.

At that moment, Blaise entered the room. “What—” he began saying, but stopped mid-sentence, mouth agape, as the books began to disappear off the floor and reappear back on the shelves. Within a few moments, the mess was gone and the shelves were as neatly arranged as before.

“That was amazing, Gala,” he breathed, staring around the room. “I’ve never seen anyone perform such a well-coordinated spell before.”

Gala felt her cheeks warm at the praise. “Thank you,” she said softly. Then, remembering the droplet, she asked, “So did Ganir tell the truth?”

“He did,” Blaise said, his smile disappearing. “The droplet did indeed show him voting against Louie’s death—and I felt his pain at the outcome of the vote.” He paused, his lips tightening. “I was wrong about Ganir. I let my anger and hatred cloud my judgment, and that made it easier for Jandison to deceive me.”

“So what does that mean?” she asked, her heart aching at the pain she saw on Blaise’s face.

“It means Jandison has a lot to answer for.” Blaise’s voice was flat, and Gala saw something frightening in his eyes. “Both to the Council and to me.”

“Are you going to tell Ganir that it was Jandison who told you about that vote?”

Blaise nodded. “I already sent him a Contact message. I’m sure he’ll take it straight to the Council.”

“Do you think this changes anything as far as the Council coming after us? After all, if Jandison has been fixing the vote, could their latest decision be considered invalid?”

“Yes, it could. Ganir said he’ll keep me abreast of the developments on that front. I think I can trust him, but I wouldn’t bet our lives on it. If Ganir found us, so can the others. It’s unfortunate, but I think we still need to leave this place.”

“What? No!” Gala couldn’t contain her disappointment. “We just got here, and Liva said she’ll introduce us to everyone in the village. I’d like to stay and meet more people.”

“Gala . . .” Blaise sighed, looking at her. “It really wouldn’t be wise.”

“Please, just for a little while longer?” Gala pleaded. “It will take Ganir some time to get back to Turingrad. It’s not like they’ll come after us tomorrow, even if they somehow learned we were here.”

Blaise hesitated, visibly wavering. “All right,” he finally said. “We’ll stay, but not for long. I won’t have you in danger again.”

Chapter 23: Augusta

Trembling with fury, Augusta stared at the closed door before beginning to pace up and down her room. How dare Barson treat her like she was his possession? And how dare Ganir betray the entire Council by consorting with Blaise and that abomination?

The old man had to be dealt with. Now—before he did any harm. She would think about what to do about Barson’s suspiciously unreasonable behavior later.

Grabbing her Stone and the cards she’d prepared for another purpose, Augusta stuffed them in her bag and hurried out of her room. As she walked, a plan began forming in her mind.

She had to get Ganir away from his study, as he would have an advantage there. The big question was how to accomplish that. There was one way, but it would be a risky maneuver. Stopping for a minute, Augusta sat down on one of the stone benches lining the hallways and started scribbling. When she was done, she double-checked her calculations.

The idea should work, she decided.

Getting up, she hurried toward Ganir’s chambers, and as she rounded the corner, she saw Barson’s right-hand man Larn and two other soldiers pass by. She stared after them in disbelief, her fury spiking. Barson had not kept his promise to her. He was supposed to have his men in hiding, and yet here they were, strolling through the halls of the Tower right next to Ganir’s quarters.

Taking a calming breath, she put the matter out of her mind for now and focused on the task at hand. Stopping a few feet away from Ganir’s door, she fed a few cards into her Stone to implement some defensive spells, paying particular attention to mental defenses.

Then she knocked decisively. Once. Twice.

The door swung open. Ganir stood there, his face calm and expressionless.

“Did you go see Blaise?” Augusta asked sharply, not bothering with any niceties. “Was the creature there with him?”

The old man’s eyes widened almost imperceptibly, and Augusta knew that it was true—that Barson hadn’t lied. Ganir had indeed betrayed her and the Council.

“Don’t bother to deny it,” she said when Ganir opened his mouth. “I know the truth. You’re nothing but a traitor—”

“You dare call
me
a traitor?” Ganir sounded incredulous. “You, who consort with your ‘dead’ lover? I gave you the benefit of the doubt, but now I see that you must be in league with him—”