The Sorcery Code (The Sorcery Code #1)(55)

Blaise laughed sardonically. “Oh, I see,” he said, chuckling at the old man’s transparent intent. “You want Gala for your own purposes. And as for me, does the almighty Ganir need another ally on the Council?”

“I am trying to help you.” Ganir was beginning to look frustrated. “Yes, I do find your creation fascinating and would like to learn more about her, but that’s not what this is all about. The Council needs you right now—far more than any of those stubborn fools realize. I need you. Blaise, please, give up Gala and come back.”

Blaise couldn’t believe his ears. Give up Gala? It was unthinkable. “The answer is no,” he said coldly, reaching for the spell card he had prepared when he’d noticed Ganir’s pouch. It was already next to the Stone he was holding in his other hand, and he swiftly joined the two objects, activating the spell.

A second later, Ganir’s pouch went up in flames, leaving the old sorcerer without ready-made spells and nearly defenseless.

“Leave, old man,” Blaise told Ganir, watching with satisfaction as his opponent threw remnants of the burning pouch on the ground. “I can kill you now, and I will. You have two minutes to get out of my sight.”

The sorcerer’s pale eyes filled with sadness. “If you change your mind, let me know,” he said with quiet dignity. Shuffling over to his chaise, he rose into the air and flew away, leaving Blaise puzzled and disturbed.





Chapter 33: Barson


Walking into his sister’s house, Barson inhaled the familiar aroma of baking bread and scented candles. It smelled like home, reminding him of when their mother would bake delicious rolls for the entire household. Unlike most other sorcerers, their mother enjoyed working with her hands—something that Dara had inherited from her, along with her aptitude for sorcery.

“Barson! I’m so glad you came by.” Standing at the top of the staircase, his sister gave him a radiant smile before hurrying down toward him.

Barson smiled back, genuinely happy to see her. He missed Dara, though he couldn’t fault her for preferring this comfortable townhouse over cramped quarters back at the Tower. Low-ranking sorcerers received terrible accommodations there, and many of them chose to live outside of the Tower most of the time.

“It’s good to see you, Dara,” he said, leaning down to kiss her cheek. “Is Larn here also?”

“He should be here soon. He’s passing by the well right now,” she said, grinning up at him mischievously. Her dark eyes were sparkling, making her look extraordinarily pretty.

Barson sighed, knowing what she was up to. “Did you put a Locator spell on him again?”

Dara’s grin widened. “I did indeed. But don’t tell him; it’ll be our secret.”

Amused, Barson shook his head. His sister and his right-hand man had been together for the past two years, and she drove Larn insane with her insistence on using spells in everyday life. For Dara, it was a way to practice sorcery and sharpen her skills, while Larn viewed it as showing off. “All right,” Barson promised, “I won’t.”

“Come,” Dara said, tugging at his arm. “Let me feed you. I bet you’re starved. That sorceress of yours doesn’t cook, I presume?”

“Augusta? No, of course not.” The very idea struck Barson as ridiculous. Augusta was . . . well, Augusta. She was many things, but homemaker was not one of them.

“That’s what I assumed,” Dara huffed. “She does know you need to eat, right?”

“I’m not sure,” Barson admitted, taking a seat at the table. “Most sorcerers—unlike you—rarely think about food or consider that others might need it.”

“Well, I hope she’s good in bed then,” Dara muttered, putting a bread basket and sliced cheese in front of him. “That and some spells is all she seems to be good for.”

Barson burst out laughing. His sister was jealous of Augusta’s position on the Council and was doing a terrible job of hiding it. “I’m not about to discuss my love life with you, sis,” he said after a few seconds, still chuckling.

She sniffed disdainfully, but kept quiet until Barson had a chance to eat some bread with cheese. “So guess what?” she said after Barson ate his second slice. “I was offered a chance to work with Jandison today.”

“Jandison?” Barson frowned. The oldest member of the Council was known for his teleportation skills and not much else. It was not exactly the most promising opportunity for Dara, given her ambitions.

“I know,” she said, understanding his unspoken concern. “But it’s still better than what I do now.”

“Do you think Ganir put him up to it?”

Dara shook her head. “I doubt it. I get the sense Jandison doesn’t like Ganir very much.”

“Oh?” Barson was surprised. He was well-versed in Council politics, but he hadn’t heard of any enmity between the two sorcerers. “What makes you think that?”

“A woman’s intuition, I guess,” Dara said. “It’s just a vibe I got from him when he mentioned Ganir’s name to me once. When I thought about it later, it actually made a lot of sense. Jandison is the oldest sorcerer on the Council, and I wouldn’t be surprised if he thinks he should be the Council Leader instead of Ganir.”