The Sorcery Code (The Sorcery Code #1)(31)

“I just might do that,” Esther said seriously, giving Maya a frown. “And I’ll show her how to bake bread. His mother used to make food for Blaise sometimes, and I have seen him eat it.”

Gala noticed that the two women paradoxically liked and disliked one another. It was very strange.

“If you are going to teach the lady to cook for Blaise, you should teach her something fancier than this slop,” Maya said derisively, apparently continuing their bickering.

“Oh, I don’t mind learning how to make this wonderful stew,” Gala protested. She loved the rich flavor of the soup on her tongue.

Both women started laughing.

“I think she really means it,” Maya said between bouts of laughter.

Gala was utterly confused. “I would like to learn how to make it,” she insisted.

Maya grinned at her. “Just take onions, garlic, cabbage, potatoes, and some chicken, and put it all in a pot for a couple hours. Oh, and be sure to forget to put enough salt and be too busy to stir it properly—”

“Hey, at least my cooking is better than yours, you old crone,” Esther said, and the two women laughed again, reinforcing Gala’s impression of the strangeness of their relationship.





Chapter 20: Barson


Pouring a pitcher of cold water on Siur’s face, Barson watched calmly as the traitor regained consciousness, coughing and sputtering.

“Welcome back,” he said, observing with amusement as the man realized that he was in Barson’s room, securely tied to the wooden column that supported the tall, domed ceiling.

“Are you going to torture me now?” Siur sounded bitter. “Is that your plan?”

Barson slowly shook his head. “No, I don’t have to do anything as barbaric as that,” he said, gesturing toward the large, diamond-like sphere sitting in the middle of the chamber.

Siur’s eyes went wide. “Where did you get that?”

“I see you know what it is. That’s good,” Barson said, giving the man a cold smile. Getting up, he took the Life Capture Sphere and rubbed it against Siur’s still-bleeding shoulder before placing it back. “Now every thought—every memory that comes to your mind—will be mine to know.”

Siur stared at him, his face nearly bloodless.

“People will say anything under torture,” Barson explained calmly. “I’ve found this to be a much better way to get real answers. You might as well talk, you know. If I have to pry the information out of your mind, I will make sure you’re known to everyone as the treacherous rat that you are.”

“So if I talk—?” There was a tiny ray of hope on Siur’s broad face.

“Then I will say you died in battle, as an honorable soldier should.”

Siur swallowed, looking mildly relieved. He obviously knew this was the best he could hope for at this point. Dying in battle meant that his family would be taken care of and his name respected. “What do you want to know?” he asked, lifting his eyes to meet Barson’s gaze.

Barson suppressed a satisfied smile. There was a reason he’d studied psychological warfare so thoroughly; now this ordeal would be over with quickly. “Who bought the information from you?” he asked, watching the man carefully. He already knew the answer, but he still wanted to hear it said out loud.

“Ganir,” Siur replied without hesitation.

“Good.” Barson had suspected the old sorcerer was the one behind the disappearances. The irony of using Ganir’s own invention against his spy didn’t escape Barson. “And how long have you been reporting to him?”

“Not long,” Siur answered. “Only for the past few months.”

Barson’s eyes narrowed. “And who reported to him before you?”

“Jule.”

That made sense. Barson remembered the young guard who had been killed in battle less than six months ago. It was far more understandable for Jule to get tempted by Ganir’s coin; to a low-ranking soldier, the money must’ve seemed quite attractive. Siur’s betrayal was much worse; he had been in Barson’s inner circle and thus could’ve done some real damage with his spying.

“How much did you tell Ganir?”

Siur shrugged. “I told him what I knew. That you’d met with those two sorcerers.”

Two? Barson exhaled, trying to conceal his relief. When two of the five sorcerers he’d spoken with disappeared, he had been deeply alarmed, expecting the worst. He had also realized then that there had to be a spy in their midst—someone close to him who could’ve seen or known something.

The fact that Siur didn’t know about the other visitors was a tremendous stroke of luck, as was the fact that none of these sorcerers knew much of value. They had just held preliminary discussions, and Barson had been careful not to show his hand fully. If Ganir succeeded in questioning them, he wouldn’t have come across anything particularly damning. In fact, losing two potential allies was a small price to pay for discovering Siur’s treachery.

“Did Ganir kill them?” Barson asked softly.

“I don’t know,” Siur admitted. “I just know they disappeared.”

Barson gave a short laugh. “Yes, I noticed that much. Went to explore the ocean storms, Ganir said. So tell me, Siur, why did you stay behind on this mission?”