Authors: Dima Zales,Anna Zaires
Mentally bracing himself, Blaise loaded the cards into the Interpreter Stone and waited to see the results.
Chapter 48: Barson
His clothes soaked through with blood, Barson quietly opened the door to the room where two of his next targets were sleeping. Dara slipped in behind him, her steps whisper-silent. She was pale with fatigue, but the look on her face was that of grim determination.
Two sorcerer apprentices were sharing this room. The one whose bed was closest to the door was Jundi—a name that was on Barson’s list. Though the room was quite dark, Barson could make out her shape in the dim moonlight streaming in from the window. Gripping his dagger, Barson stepped closer to the sleeping woman, and in one smooth motion slit her throat. There was a quiet gurgle, followed by the sharp, metallic scent of blood and death.
Jundi’s roommate continued sleeping, blissfully unaware. It was Hanta—a young sorceress whose name was
not
on his list.
Dara approached Hanta’s bed and touched the woman’s shoulder. “Wake up,” she said gently, loading a spell into her Stone. A second later, the room was illuminated by a pale yellow light.
The girl opened her eyes, a look of shock forming on her face. Gasping, she jackknifed to a sitting position, holding up the blanket protectively in front of herself. As her eyes fell on her dead roommate, the look of shock turned to horror.
“You will not make any noise or try to do anything stupid,” Barson said evenly, keeping his bloody dagger visible.
The sorceress stared at him, her body starting to tremble under the blanket. “Captain? W-what’s going on? W-why are you doing this? I thought you were dead—”
“Yes, yes, I’ve heard that a lot today,” Barson said impatiently. “Now listen to me carefully, Hanta. I’m not here to answer your questions. You have two options: you can join Jundi today—or you can join me.”
“Join you?” The woman looked like she was going into shock, her face utterly bloodless. “What do you mean? You’re our Guard—”
Dara smiled, sitting down on the bed next to Hanta. “Not anymore, dear,” she said softly. “He’s about to be your king. And you can join him, or try to fight against him. Either way, the outcome will be the same—but with the first option, you will be richly rewarded for your loyalty, whereas with the second . . .” His sister let her voice trail off and glanced meaningfully at the dagger in Barson’s hand. Hanta’s eyes followed her gaze, and she visibly flinched.
“Now,” Barson said calmly, stepping toward the sorceress. “What do you choose?”
“I choose you,” Hanta said hurriedly, scooting backward on the bed.
“I knew you would be reasonable,” Dara said reassuringly. “That’s why I kept your name off the list. Now let’s discuss the Life Capture surveillance program I came up with, a program that will make sure there is never a misunderstanding between us . . .”
For the next few minutes, Barson’s sister explained all about how sorcerers’ thoughts would be carefully watched and monitored via Life Captures, to prevent any treachery. Hanta kept nodding to show her understanding, tears running down her face, and Barson knew that this sorceress would be just like the others they’d dealt with on this bloody night—that she would fall in line with the new regime.
As Dara was finishing her explanation, the door to Hanta’s room opened, and Zanil walked in. “Larn sent me to tell you that we couldn’t find at least forty people on our list—some of them quite dangerous.”
Barson frowned. That was not good. He’d been hoping for a swift and controlled operation, and it looked like things were about to get messy.
His thoughts were interrupted by an ear-splitting noise that vibrated through the tower.
“The gong,” Dara said, jumping to her feet. “Someone has gotten into the Council Hall and is warning the rest of danger. They could be gathering there as we speak.”
Leaving Hanta crying over her roommate’s body, they ran down the twisted corridors of the Tower to the Hall, gathering soldiers and their sorcerer allies on the way. When they got there, they saw Larn and a group of soldiers standing in front of the giant doors.
“They’re locked,” Larn reported, coming up to Barson. “How do you want us to approach it?”
Barson turned to Dara. “Can you and our allies prevent anyone from teleporting, or otherwise leaving that hall?”
“Hmm.” She looked thoughtful. “It’s the biggest room in the Tower, so it will be tricky, but I’ve picked up a thing or two from Jandison. We can create this field of force—”
“No offense, sis, but I am not interested in details,” Barson said, waving in greeting at another group of soldiers that was coming down the hallway.
“Then the answer is yes, we can keep them there,” she responded, looking mildly annoyed.
“Good, then I will leave some soldiers outside with you, so if anyone runs out, you can deal with them.”
There were now at least fifty soldiers in front of the Council Hall doors. Thinking about the best course of action, Barson decided that he first needed some information about what awaited them in that chamber. “Dara, which one of our allies do you trust the most?” he asked, glancing at his sister.
She considered that for a moment. “Kira and I had been friends for a few years before I told her about our plans,” she said slowly. “I think I can trust her the most.”
“Do you think you can get her in and out of that room safely?” Barson asked.
Dara contemplated his request. “Does she need to move around, or can she be stationary?”
“It’s best if she moves around freely.”
“In that case, we could combine a locator spell with a cleverly written teleportation spell—” Dara began when Barson caught her eye, giving her a sardonic look. His sister had never been in a battle before and obviously didn’t understand the value of brevity in critical situations.
“Oh yes, sorry, master commander,” she said mockingly. “You don’t care about these details. The answer to your query is yes. We can get her in and out.”
* * *
“I have never done something like this before,” Kira said nervously, staring at Barson. “I don’t know a single thing about reconnaissance . . .”
“You don’t need to know,” Barson explained calmly. “You will be using Life Capture. When you get back, I will be able to look through your eyes at that room. And
I
know about recon. Just look around casually and appear to be scared. They won’t know that you’re with us.”
“I don’t think appearing scared will be hard to do,” she said wryly.
They had Kira start a Life Capture session, and Dara implemented the teleportation and locator spells, to get Kira in the room. Vashel, Mittel, Pavel, and Noriella had joined them too, and were frantically writing spells to strengthen the already-enhanced armor of the soldiers. Dara also insisted all members of the Guard get protected against psychological attacks. This involved temporary spells, unfortunately, but Barson made a mental note to work on something more permanent with his sister. Perhaps enhanced headgear of some kind, to protect his mind from sorcery when he was king.
Kira’s return distracted him from his musings. As soon as she appeared in front of them, she pricked her finger and put a tiny drop of blood on his Life Capture Sphere.
Picking up the droplet that had formed as a result, Barson immediately placed it under his tongue.
* * *
Kira wanted to be brave. She wanted to impress Dara’s powerful brother.
No. She stopped herself from thinking about Barson, realizing that the Life Capture would make her thoughts known. Trying to focus, she looked around the room where she’d just appeared. There were at least thirty sorcerers gathered inside the Council Hall. They were clustered on the far side of the room, away from the giant doors.
“Come join us, quickly,” said a voice she vaguely recognized as belonging to Pierre, one of the more senior apprentices. “We need the center of the room clear, so people can teleport in safely. And send a Contact message to anyone you trust. We need everyone to gather here as quickly as they can. It looks like the Guard faked their deaths and turned on us. They’re slaughtering people left and right, and I don’t know how long the doors will keep them out.”
Kira nodded, pretending to go along with the instructions. Clearly Pierre and the rest didn’t realize that Barson had help from sorcerers. They assumed anyone who was able to get into the locked room was on their side.
As she walked across the large hall, she saw more people teleporting in. Approaching one of the sorcerers, she started to ask him a question when she felt that strange sensation that precedes teleportation. She was being brought out, she realized, and in the next moment she was facing Barson again, her heart beating faster in her chest. Her finger was still bleeding from before, and she pressed the wound against the Sphere . . .
* * *
“You did well, Kira,” Barson said, trying to suppress a smile. He apparently had an admirer among his allies. “I have all the information I need. Dara, prepare to get us in and block the room from teleportation. Keep in mind, we need to appear as close to the middle as possible, since there is an empty space there.”
While Dara worked on the spell, he walked over to his soldiers. Given the number of sorcerers inside, he decided to split up his men. The majority of them would go into the Hall, while the rest would guard the doors to the chamber, in case any sorcerers tried to escape on foot.
Now that he had a moment to think, Barson realized how desperate the people in that room were. In their panic, they acted like chickens with their heads cut off, instead of thinking strategically. Ringing the gong might’ve alerted others of the danger, but it also pinpointed their location to Barson—and their choice of a gathering spot was even worse. They should’ve run—or teleported themselves—outside, instead of barricading themselves indoors, where they couldn’t utilize their most destructive spells without also killing themselves. Their inability to think like warriors was to his advantage.
When Dara’s spells were ready, Barson addressed his troops.
“Soldiers, you know I don’t give fancy speeches,” he said calmly, “but on this occasion, some words need to be said. We are at a crossroads now. If we succeed—and I have no doubt that we will—this day will forever be remembered as the start of a new era. Each and every single one of you will be written about in history books. Today we are about to change the world.” He paused, looking at them. “Are you ready?”
An approving roar was his response. Studying their faces, Barson could see that his soldiers were just as hungry for this as he was. They all longed for victory, and each could already see it, taste it.
“Remember your training and utilize their weaknesses,” he said when the roar died down. “Every sorcerer in that room must die.”
Chapter 49: Gala
So this was the Spell Realm, Gala thought. This time, unlike right after her birth, she would get more than a brief glimmer of it with her conscious mind.
Everything was achingly familiar and extremely strange at the same time. Gala realized with surprise that the dreams she couldn’t remember before were of this place. Only even her dreams did not prepare her for what it was really like. If anything prepared her for this, it had to be those moments when she was born—moments she had not remembered until now.
Just as when she had woken up to self-awareness here for the first time, she was not in possession of her familiar body—the body that she’d grown used to, the body that Blaise found attractive. No, here she was something she could best understand as a pure mind. The feeling, if it could be called that, was that of flying or floating in water. Only this was infinitely more serene and peaceful.
She knew she should be petrified at having no body, but she took it in stride. Having a body was meaningless in a place where none of her human senses worked. Existence was of a different sort here. Of a kind she was just beginning to understand.
Though Gala didn’t have the now-familiar human senses, she still
felt
. It was as though her mind was connected with the fabric of the Spell Realm itself—as though the Spell Realm was permeated with sensory organs, and she was somehow able to access them.
She still felt some of the emotions she’d experienced before. Anger at Augusta. Sadness at her own loss of control in the battle with the Council. And, overwhelmingly, she felt love and longing for Blaise.
She tried to not let the emotions confuse her. It would be easy to get confused in this place. Instead, Gala focused on her surroundings.
When she analyzed them, she understood more. There were colors and chaotic patterns that appeared here from time to time. These colorful displays were spells from the Physical Realm, she decided, not knowing where the certainty came from. Perhaps like knows its like, she reflected. Now that she thought about it, Gala realized that she herself was a pattern of lights and connections. Her pattern was much more complex than any she saw—and much more structured—but she could still see the kinship.
I am a spell that learned how to think
, Gala thought with amazement.