The Sorcery Code (The Sorcery Code #1)(15)

Directing her chaise to turn north, Augusta peered at the dark mass in the distance. It was so far away that even with her improved vision, she couldn’t tell what it was. Curious, she flew toward it.

And when she got close enough to see, she could hardly believe her eyes.

Instead of three hundred men, as Ganir’s spies had said, there were at least a couple of thousand.

A couple of thousand peasants . . . versus fifty of Barson’s soldiers.



*



Her heart racing, Augusta stared at the approaching horde. She had never seen such a large gathering of commoners in her life.

They were marching up the dirt road, their lean faces hard with anger and their dirty bodies covered with ragged woolen clothes. In addition to the usual pitchforks, many of them were carrying weapons; she saw maces, clubs, and even a few swords. They were still far from Turingrad, but the very fact that they dared to go toward the capital with such numbers was disturbing on many levels. As someone who had grown up with stories of the Revolution, Augusta knew full well what could happen when peasants thought that they deserved better—that they had the right to take what wasn’t given to them.

She had to warn Barson.

Flying back toward the hill, Augusta jumped off the chaise as soon as it landed and ran toward Barson, quickly telling him what she saw. As she spoke, his jaw tightened and his eyes flashed with anger.

“You’re turning back, right?” she asked, although it was clearly a rhetorical question.

“No, of course not.” He stared at her like she had grown two heads. “This changes nothing. We need to contain this rebellion, and we need to do it here, before they get any closer to Turingrad.”

“But they outnumber you by an impossible margin—”

Her lover nodded grimly. “Yes, they do.” The expression on his face was storm-black, and she wondered what he was thinking. Was he truly suicidal enough to attempt to go up against all those peasants? She admired his dedication to duty, but this was something else entirely.

Fighting to remain calm, Augusta tried to think of a solution that would contain the rebels and prevent Barson from getting killed. “Look,” she finally said in frustration, “if you’re determined to do this, then maybe I can help somehow.”

Barson studied her, his gaze dark and inscrutable. “Help us how? Using sorcery?”

“Yes.” Sorcerers rarely did this sort of thing, but she couldn’t let Barson and his soldiers perish in a battle with some peasants.

To her relief, he looked intrigued. “Well,” he said thoughtfully. “Perhaps there is something you can do . . . Do you think you can teleport all of us to them, and then teleport us back at an agreed-upon time?”

Augusta considered his request. Teleportation was not an easy spell. It required very precise calculations, as even the smallest error could be deadly. Teleporting many people at once was an even greater challenge. Still, she should be able to do it, since it was only for a short distance and she would be able to see their destination, thus visually confirming that everything was clear. “Yes, I could do it,” she said decisively. “How would that help?”

Barson smiled. “Here is what I have in mind.” And he began telling her his insane plan.





Chapter 10: Gala


Back in Blaise’s study, Gala examined the Life Capture Sphere. It looked like a large round diamond, and the rest of the room was reflected in it, as though in a mirror. Gala was mesmerized by the elegant mathematics that warped the image of the laboratory, with its arcane bottles and instruments. There was only a single flaw in the spherical shape—an opening with a couple of clear beads inside it.

“Those are the Life Capture droplets,” Blaise explained, walking up to it. ”They are the physical shape Life Captures take when entering this world.”

Taking one of the beads, he put it in her hand. When their hands touched lightly, Gala felt a pleasantly warm sensation in her body—the same strange feeling she experienced every time she was near Blaise. She would have to touch him more when an opportune moment arose, Gala decided, liking the way her body seemed to react to him.

“These appear when the cycle of recording is compete,” he said. “To start the cycle, I touched the Sphere with the blood from my finger, and to stop it, I did it again. See that needle there? That’s what I used to prick my finger. Droplets show up shortly after.”

Gala pricked her finger. The sensation she felt now was most unpleasant. It was pain, she realized. The red substance—blood—started slowly oozing out of the small opening in her finger. She knew that pain was something humans avoided, and she could now understand why.

Reaching out with her bloody finger, she touched the Sphere, waiting for something to happen. When nothing did, she touched it again, wondering what she was doing wrong.

“It’s not working for you, is it?” Blaise asked, watching her efforts. “That’s not surprising.”

“Because I am not human?”

He nodded. “Yes. With time, I suspect you’ll be able to create your own droplets or do anything else you wished without the use of the Sphere.”

Gala examined herself and saw no evidence to support what he said. If she could create these Life Capture droplets, she did not know how. In the meantime, her pricked finger had already healed.