The Spell Realm (20 page)

It was a race against time. The spell needed to be precise, but with every second that passed, Barson was losing more and more blood. With her enhanced hearing, Augusta could hear his heart laboring harder and harder as his lungs struggled to draw in enough air. She tried to focus, to concentrate, but tears kept blurring her vision, her cards getting smeared with blood that seemed to be coming from everywhere.

With one last stuttering beat, Barson’s heart stopped.

Augusta wanted to scream.
No.
She wouldn’t let this happen. She couldn’t. The spell was not yet complete, but she began loading it into the Stone anyway, using one hand to feed the cards and the other to write the last few lines.

The spell was finally complete.

She waited with baited breath for the wounds to begin to heal, but nothing happened.

Her entire body began to shake. Crawling on top of Barson, Augusta began pressing methodically on his chest with her hands, trying to get the heart muscle working again. Leaning down, she placed her mouth over his and began to blow air into his lungs.
Push, blow. Push, blow.
Augusta had never done this sort of healing by hand before. She wasn’t sure if she was doing it correctly, but that didn’t matter. She couldn’t give up, couldn’t let Barson die. She felt like she was doing it forever, but only moments must’ve passed before she heard a faint heartbeat.

Laughing and crying, she sat back and watched as the spell began to take effect, the wounds slowly mending as the damaged tissue began to knit together from the inside out.

When Barson was fully healed, she turned her attention to Larn. The soldier was sprawled unconscious on the floor, his jaw broken. Feeling utterly drained, Augusta nonetheless managed to write another spell for him—both to clear his mind of Ganir’s influence and to heal his injuries.

When she was finished, she had no energy left for the other two men. One of them appeared to be long dead, anyway, while the other one was simply knocked out. Feeling like she was going to pass out herself at any moment, Augusta headed wearily back to her quarters. There was a Council meeting coming up in a couple of hours, and she desperately needed to get some rest. She couldn’t afford to be less than her best at that meeting.

Her last thought before she collapsed in her own bed was that she should’ve killed Ganir after all.

Chapter 31: Barson

Barson woke up on the floor of the training room covered in bloody sand. To his surprise, nothing hurt too much—or at all, he realized, rising slowly to his feet.

Hearing a groan, he turned and saw Larn crouched over Zanil, who appeared to be slowly regaining consciousness.

“Explain yourself,” Barson said hoarsely, looking around for his sword. Spotting it on the floor, he walked over to pick it up, even though it seemed like Larn had come to his senses.

Larn turned toward him. “Barson, I don’t know what happened.” His eyes were wide, his face unusually pale. “Were we attacked?”

“
I
was attacked.” Barson gave his friend a narrow-eyed glare. “What were you thinking? Were you insane?”

“What do you mean?” Larn looked confused now. “The last thing I remember was drinking some wine in the tavern. Did I have too much? How did we end up here in the Tower, and what happened to us?”

Barson inhaled deeply. It was as he had suspected. Somebody—and he had a very good idea who—had turned his own men against him. His insides churning with anger, Barson proceeded to explain everything to Larn, including his suspicions about mind sorcery.

“So what now?” Larn asked when Barson was done. His eyebrows were drawn into a worried frown. “If Ganir knows that we’re alive, that changes everything.”

“Not necessarily,” Barson said. “There is a Council meeting coming up tonight. Vashel figured out how to listen in on it. I don’t want to do anything rash until we know more.”

As they were walking out of the room, with Barson aiding Zanil and Larn carrying out Pugan’s body, it occurred to Barson that he should still be bleeding right now.

Someone had healed his injuries.

The question was: who?

Chapter 32: Gala

Gala stumbled into Liva’s house, pushed by Blaise. Quickly catching herself, she turned to say something, and saw Blaise collapse as a large piece of hail slammed into the side of his head.

Her heart appeared to stop beating. She was not fully cognizant of reaching for him and dragging his body into the room, but she must have—because she found herself crouched over Blaise’s unconscious form in the middle of the kitchen, surrounded by Maya, Esther, and the villagers.

He was bleeding profusely, a pool of red spreading out from the wound on his head, and Gala knew she had to do something to help him. However, her panic didn’t allow her to think clearly, her emotions chaotic and out of control. The hail battered the house with deadly force, and she could hear the women screaming as some parts of the roof started caving in. She knew she needed to calm down, to pull herself together, but all she could see was Blaise and his terrifying injury.

“Gala, I need you to focus. Do you hear me? Please, focus.” It was Liva, her voice even and soothing, penetrating the fog of anguished fear clouding Gala’s mind. Taking a deep breath, Gala tried to follow her advice, realizing that she was on the verge of losing control of her powers again—something that could be disastrous for all concerned.

“Gala, it’s all right—he’s breathing.” It was Esther speaking to her this time, and Gala felt her panic recede further. Reaching deep within herself, she called upon everything she’d learned thus far and everything Blaise had taught her, and simultaneously began working on two spells.

A minute later, the barrage of deadly hail stopped as Gala’s replacement shield went up. At the same time, Blaise’s injured head began to mend as she implemented a more targeted version of the healing spell she’d inadvertently used on the soldiers before. He still remained unconscious, but she knew he would soon be all right.

Shaking, Gala rose to her feet. She hadn’t realized that fear could be so paralyzing—that nearly losing Blaise could cloud her mind to such an extent. She never wanted him to be in danger again. She would never allow him to be in danger again.

“Gala, do you remember approximately how many people were in the other house?” Liva asked, her tone filled with anxiety now that the immediate danger to Blaise was over. “Did everyone make it to safety?”

“There were twenty-eight adults and five children,” Gala replied, instantly recalling the layout of the house she’d just left and mentally counting the people there.

“Are you sure?” Liva asked, a worried frown on her face. “Only thirty-three people there?”

Gala nodded. She was sure. “How many should there have been?”

“At least forty,” Liva said in despair. “I think there must be a family or two still out there, beyond the protection you and Blaise set up for us.”

Gala’s blood turned to ice. There were people outside the shield? If they were still alive, they wouldn’t be for much longer—unless she could get them to safety right away.

Running to the front door, she opened it again and stepped out. She could hear Blaise starting to wake up, but the last thing she wanted was to put him in danger again—or to have him prevent her from helping those people. She had to act, and she had to do it now, before it was too late.

Stepping out into the street, Gala cast a quick glance at the village. Several houses nearby were on fire from the lightning strikes, while many others were in shambles from the wind and hail. Thunder and lightning struck over and over again in an endless assault on the senses, but worst of all was something she could see in the far distance—a wide, funnel-like column connecting the ground to the sky.

A tornado
. She’d briefly read about them in one of the books.

She could feel it coming closer, sensed its destructive power. Even with the noise from the relentlessly battering hail, she could hear the roar of the approaching monster.

Two monsters, in fact, she realized with a bone-deep chill as she saw another twister further to the east. Then she spotted a third one and a fourth . . . It was a wall of tornados—and they all seemed to be headed straight for the village.

A strange clarity settled over Gala’s mind. She began doing calculations—the air pressure, the temperature, the direction and speed of all the different winds . . . Everything pointed to one conclusion. Once the tornadoes reached them, the shield would be destroyed in seconds—and so would any subsequent ones she could put up.

Unless she came up with another way to protect them, they would all die.

Sitting down on the ground, Gala began to breathe the way Blaise had taught her. As her heartbeat slowed, she could feel herself starting to float like before, but this time she did not stop it.

Instead, she focused on her first spell.

She began by trying to change the temperature. It required making the molecules of air move faster in a given space—except the space had to be quite large to make any difference to the storm. As she worked on it, she floated closer to the shield, and her mind enabled her to open it and close it within seconds, letting her body pass through. Now she was fully exposed to the elements, and she could feel the effect of the temperature change in the air. Instead of striking her skin, the hail was melting, turning into cold water all around her. It was already an improvement, but her work had just begun.

She was now high enough in the air that she could see the village laid out far below, with the twisters rapidly approaching it. To stave off fear and solidify her concentration, Gala closed her eyes. She could feel the sizzle of electricity in the air, smell the ozone from the lightning strikes, but she ignored all that, focusing only on the task at hand.

This was going to be difficult, yet it was the only way to save the village. Swiftly running through the thousands of necessary calculations in her mind, Gala opened her eyes and unleashed the force that was needed to counter the storm.

The air began moving around her, each current and counter-current melding in perfect harmony. Each blast of the storm winds encountered one of her own, the forces neutralizing each other until it was as if the wind wasn’t there. It was a slow and laborious process, but Gala could feel it working. Within minutes, the heavy clouds shifted, creating an opening in the storm—an opening that encompassed the area around the village.

Everywhere else the storm raged as before, but the skies above the village began to clear, a sliver of star-dotted sky peeking through the darkness.

Chapter 33: Augusta

“Where is Ganir?” Jandison asked loudly, addressing the rest of the Council. It was their regularly scheduled meeting, and no one was ever late without a good excuse.

Augusta sat quietly, not wanting to draw attention to herself. The last thing she wanted was to be implicated in Ganir’s disappearance in any way.

“Does anyone know where he is?” Jandison repeated, looking around the room.

“I might,” Dania said, fumbling with her bag. “I have a locator spell on him. We placed those on each other a few years ago just in case. I don’t ever check it, but I should be able to do so.”

Augusta felt all blood drain from her face. There was a good chance that Ganir had died during her teleportation experiment. And if so, Dania would find out, as the locator spell was only active while the person it was placed on was alive.

“Does anyone have a map of Koldun?” Dania asked, looking up from her bag, and Augusta watched in horror as Moriner handed the requested object to Dania.

The old woman immediately began muttering the words of a revelation spell—a quick oral spell that was required to show the location on the map. A few minutes later, a bright blue dot appeared on the map, right in the middle of Ganir’s territory.

Augusta let out the breath she’d been holding. Ganir was alive after all. Her teleportation experiment had worked.

“It looks like he went home,” Dania said, looking puzzled. “Why would he do that without telling anyone?”

“Maybe because he disagrees about the latest vote, and he’s showing his disdain for the Council by not showing up?” Kelvin suggested, leaning forward in his chair.

“I’m sure Ganir has a good reason for not being here,” Augusta said graciously, recovering from her earlier panic. In a way, Dania had done her a favor. Nobody should suspect any foul play now.

“Either way, the protocol dictates that in the absence of one of the members, the meeting shall proceed as normal,” Jandison said, his eyes gleaming. “We can’t let Ganir’s reluctance deter us from doing the right thing.”

“No, we cannot,” Kelvin concurred. “We need to take care of this threat once and for all.”

“We don’t even know where this creature is,” Dania objected, “so what are we supposed to do? Scour all of Koldun looking for it?”

“Dania,” Augusta said slowly, thinking about how to best bring this up, “can you modify the time parameter of the revelation spell to show Ganir’s location last week? Perhaps there is some other reason he’s not here today.”