The Spell Realm (3 page)

Kelvin stood up from his throne. “I see no need for that kind of compromise. Blaise is clearly guilty—”

“And we shall let the trial determine that,” Augusta said firmly. She was glad the debate was focusing on Blaise’s fate. Nobody seemed inclined to dispute the fact that the creature needed to die—not after the horrors they saw in Augusta’s Life Capture droplet.

As though in response to her thoughts, Ganir stepped forward. “We need to discuss this further. We are talking about a being that has thoughts and feelings. She has shown empathy on numerous occasions—”

“She destroyed Davish, one of my most loyal servants,” Kelvin interrupted furiously. “She made him useless as an overseer! Don’t you see? This thing can manipulate our minds. She’s dangerous.”

Augusta let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. Though she didn’t have much sympathy for Kelvin’s loss of his notoriously inhumane overseer, the fact that Blaise’s creation could do something like this was especially frightening. And Augusta wasn’t the only one who thought so; she could practically smell the fear rising in the room. Kelvin’s words drove home the terrible power that the creature held—the power of the ultimate rape. It could change someone’s mind to fit whatever it wished. If it were so inclined, it could replace the entire Council with puppets dancing to its tune.

“If there is any doubt about our course of action, then we need to vote on this,” Jandison said, looking around the room. “That’s the only way to settle this matter.”

“Fine,” Kelvin snapped. “Then let’s do it. Let’s vote right now whether we should destroy the creature and put Blaise on trial.”

“No,” Ganir said, his tone utterly uncompromising. “This is too serious for us to act on a whim. The vote will take place in a few days, when we’ve all had a chance to digest this information.”

Nobody voiced an objection to that, and Augusta remained silent too. Ganir was still the Leader, and as such, had the final say when it came to procedural matters. Besides, ultimately it didn’t matter. If the vote took place today, people might side with Augusta out of fear, but a few days’ delay wasn’t the end of the world.

She would just have to work harder to ensure that the majority of the Council voted the right way.

Chapter 4: Barson

“Are you going to bury him with the rest?” Larn asked somberly, watching as Barson lifted Kiam’s lifeless body onto his horse.

“We have no choice,” Barson said harshly, wiping the rain off his face with the back of his arm. “We can’t bring him all the way back to Turingrad.”

Larn nodded. “Then I guess the woods are as good of a place as any.” His face was drawn tight with grief and anger. Barson knew how his friend felt because an identical mixture of rage and pain gnawed at his own insides.

Nearly a third of his men were dead. Their bodies lay strewn all over the muddy field, stomachs cut open and limbs missing. In all his years as a soldier, Barson had never lost so many of his own. The rebellions he’d had to suppress had been nothing compared to this.

It made him wonder if he was ready for what was to come. Many more might die once he put his plan in motion. Good men. Loyal men. Was he prepared for that? Taking a deep breath, Barson looked around the bloody field. Yes, he decided, he was. Ambition required sacrifice. There was no other way to greatness.

This senseless slaughter, however, was something else. Ganir had done this; he’d pitted them against the girl, thinking he was getting rid of at least one problem. Barson chuckled humorlessly at that. The old man didn’t realize that he had actually created a problem. This young sorceress would be the most deadly enemy the Council had ever faced.

“This rain,” Larn said, interrupting Barson’s thoughts. “It’s unbelievable. It’s like the sky is weeping for the fallen. I think she did it—this storm, I mean.”

Barson nodded absentmindedly. “She did,” he said softly, looking up at the sky before turning his attention back to Larn. “She did all this and more.”

“So what now?” Larn asked, looking at him. “Do we go back and tell them about our ignominious defeat?”

“No.” Barson shook his head. “We don’t. As far as they’re concerned, we’re dead—and we will stay dead.”

Larn raised his eyebrows. “Oh?”

“What do you think the Council will do now?” Barson said, gazing at his friend. “Do you think they will just let it slide? This girl—this sorceress—destroyed their Guard. Do you really think they will allow her to live?”

Larn looked taken aback for a moment. “No,” he said slowly, mulling it over, “they won’t. They’ll go after her.”

Barson smiled. “Exactly. They will go after her, and they will attempt to destroy her.”

Larn’s eyes widened. “You’re right. And when they do, the Tower will be essentially unprotected.”

Barson’s smile broadened. “I knew there was a reason I keep you around. Yes, my friend, you’re absolutely right. This is it. This is our chance. We will stay dead, and when the moment is right, we will strike—and a new era in the history of Koldun will begin.”

* * *

“Where did you get these clothes?” Larn asked, watching as Barson prepared a horse for his journey.

“From one of the local merchants,” Barson replied, loading a bag filled with bread and cured meat onto the horse. The journey back to Turingrad was a long one, and he would need provisions. The clothing he had chosen—a peasant’s rough, homespun shirt and breeches—was nothing like his usual armor, and he hoped it would enable him to pass through the territories unnoticed. His men would travel back too, but not all at once.

“Well, we probably won’t look much better,” Larn said, chuckling. “I hope we don’t get mistaken for some dirty rebels.”

“You won’t. Not if you travel in small groups or as individuals,” Barson said. “Remember, speed is of essence, but so is secrecy.”

“Of course,” Larn said hastily. “We will look like peasants and nothing more.”

“Good.” Barson mounted his horse with an easy, practiced movement. “I will get a message to you through Dara. I’m going to go see her first, and then I’ll talk to some of our sorcerer allies. I have a feeling our time is near. As soon as we know the Council’s plans, we’ll finalize our own.”

Chapter 5: Gala

They landed near the most beautiful place Gala had seen in the Physical Realm thus far. It was a lake surrounded by a forest, in the slopes of one of the greener mountains. It looked incredibly calm and peaceful, the trees reflecting in the clear waters of the lake. At the sight of it, Gala could feel some of the tightness in her chest beginning to ease. For the first time since the battle, she felt like she was able to breathe again.

As soon as their chaise touched the ground, the lions jumped out and quickly dispersed. “I hope that’s the last we see of them,” Esther muttered.

Gala smiled, amused by the old woman’s dislike of the magnificent beasts. Being here, in the midst of this greenery, was making her feel immeasurably better. The water sparkled in the sunlight, luring her, and suddenly Gala knew what she wanted to do. “I am going swimming,” she declared, and began to run toward the water, taking off her clothes on the way. She’d read about swimming and was determined to experience it herself.

Behind her she could hear the two women muttering something about modesty. By now Gala knew that what she was doing was not socially acceptable, but in this particular moment she couldn’t bring herself to care. She wanted to dive in and feel the water on her skin, to wash away the memories of blood and death. And somewhere on the back of her mind was the knowledge that Blaise was there, that he would see her naked again—an idea that Gala found rather intriguing.

Entering the lake at a run, she quickly found herself immersed up to her neck, and she began to move her arms and legs, propelling herself through the water. It felt natural to do this, like using her feet to walk. The water was refreshingly cold on her skin, and the sensation of swimming reminded her of a dream she’d had recently. It had been of a time when she was just a consciousness in the Spell Realm. Back then she’d felt similarly weightless, unencumbered by her body.

She had been swimming for a couple of minutes when she heard a splash near the shore. Turning, she saw Blaise swimming toward her with strong, sure strokes.

When he was a couple of feet away, he stopped, floating in place. “I am so glad Esther suggested we go here,” he said quietly. His eyes were glittering, and despite the coolness of the water, there was color on his cheekbones.

“Me too,” Gala murmured, smiling at him. She could see his muscular chest and shoulders above the water, bare and glistening with droplets of moisture, and her breathing quickened at the sight.

Keeping her eyes trained on his face, she slowly closed the distance between them. When she was next to him, she reached out and placed her hands on his shoulders, enjoying the cool, slick feel of his skin under her fingertips. His eyes darkened in response, his pupils dilating, and he pressed his palm to the small of her back, pulling her closer.

Gala felt her own skin heating up. The feeling she was experiencing now was akin to the tingling, pleasant sensation she’d felt previously at his touch, only magnified a hundredfold. Her heart pounded furiously in her chest, and she felt like she was on the verge of losing control, of casting some random magic again. She tried to steady her emotions, but it was futile. Something about the beautiful lake, the fresh mountain air, and the proximity of their naked bodies intensified her feelings. As though sensing her reaction, Blaise began to lean in toward her, his breathing accelerating as well.

Suddenly, there was a scream from the shore. Startled, Blaise turned, releasing Gala. “Stay here,” he ordered curtly, and dove under the water, heading quickly for the shore.

Gala ignored his instruction and began swimming back as well. As she got closer, she could see that Esther and Maya were not alone on the shore anymore. Instead, they were surrounded by a group of strangers. Gala counted twelve people—eleven men of various ages and one young woman dressed in boy’s clothes. They were holding bows and arrows aimed at Maya and Esther.

Gala’s heart started racing. Had the soldiers found them here, or was this some new threat?

She started swimming as fast as she could, passing Blaise on her way.

As she reached the shore, she could hear growling. One of the lions had come out of the forest, apparently attracted by the women’s screams. Standing near the trees, he looked like he was about to pounce on the intruders.

Perceiving the animal as the bigger threat, the archers swiftly pointed their weapons at the lion. Gala could see from the tiny muscle movements of their hands that they were about to release their bowstrings.

“No, don’t hurt it,” Maya yelled, apparently arriving at the same conclusion.

Gala was on the shore now, and she came out of the water.

At the sound of splashing, the strangers turned towards her, their eyes wide with shock at the sight of a naked woman emerging from the lake.

“Put down your weapons,” a voice boomed from some indeterminate direction, distracting the archers. Gala recognized the sound as the magically amplified voice of Blaise. She could see his head coming up out of the water near the shore as the archers started scanning the surroundings, searching for the source of the voice.

Gala used their distraction to hurry over to her clothes and start putting them on. For some reason, she was not particularly afraid of these people. Despite their threatening posture, she didn’t think they came here with the intent to cause them harm. They didn’t seem to recognize her; instead their aggression appeared to be more of a defense mechanism.

At the same time, Gala sensed a spell forming around her and felt a faint vibration in the air. As far as she could tell, it was a protective bubble of some kind. Blaise must have just cast it over her and the older women.

Turning back toward the shore, she saw Blaise standing waist-deep in the water, his broad chest and shoulders bare. Despite the danger of the situation, Gala’s breath caught in her throat—and apparently she wasn’t the only one having that reaction. Glancing back at the intruders, Gala saw the female archer staring at Blaise with avid fascination.

Two of the male archers pointed their weapons at Blaise. “Who are you?” one of them demanded. “What are you doing here?”

Blaise gazed at them steadily. “I am Blaise, son of Dasbraw—”

“Blaise?” the man interrupted. “
The
Blaise? As in Blaise from the Council?” Upon hearing that, the other men’s faces darkened. They didn’t seem pleased by the idea of a Council member in their midst.

“I am no longer on the Council,” Blaise said flatly. “And who might you be?”

“Don’t tell him anything,” an archer with a scar on his face said grimly. “He’s one of them—”

“Let me do the talking, Shram,” the first man said, stepping forward, his bow and arrow still tightly drawn. He was shorter than the others, but there was something commanding about the way he held himself. Gala could see that the others subtly deferred to him. He was most likely their leader, she decided.

“Put down your weapons,” Blaise ordered again, looking at the short man. “We mean you no harm.”