The Sorcery Code (The Sorcery Code #1)(58)
Once the thief was captured, Vik continued to observe the scene. It was certainly more entertaining than watching some old women haggling with the merchants.
He heard Davish speak and was amused at the overseer’s mercy. A poor, starving woman with her right hand chopped off would die just as surely as if she were beheaded—except her death would now be slower and more painful.
Like the rest of the crowd, he watched the girl’s mutilation with a mix of pity and gruesome curiosity.
And then he suddenly heard the Shriek. His ears felt like they exploded.
His head ringing, Vik realized that someone had used a powerful spell designed to deafen and psychologically control a rioting mob—a spell he had learned about but had never seen used in real life. This version in particular seemed more potent than anything Vik had read about. If it weren’t for the defensive shield spell Ganir insisted they all use while on duty, the Shriek would’ve been the last thing Vik heard. As it was, he was in agony. The unprotected people in the square below were falling to their knees, bleeding from their ears.
Only one person remained standing—the young woman Vik had noticed earlier. Dazed, he watched as the beautiful girl walked toward the execution platform and put her arms around the thief huddling in a bloody ball on the ground.
And then Vik felt it—a sense of peace and warmth unlike anything he had ever experienced before. It was beauty, it was love, it was bliss . . . it was indescribable. The wave seemed to emanate from the center of the square, where the two women stood hugging.
A spell, he realized dazedly. He was feeling the effects of some spell—a spell strong enough to penetrate his magical defenses.
His finger tingled, and he looked down, watching as the splinter slowly came out of his flesh and the wound healed itself, all traces of the injury disappearing without a trace. Even his head, which had been pounding just moments earlier from the Shriek, felt completely normal.
On the ground, he could see the crowd still on their knees, staring at the young sorceress with rapture on their faces. Had they felt it too, the euphoria he’d just experienced?
And then he knew that they had—because when the beautiful girl stepped away from the thief, the peasant woman’s hand was whole again. Whatever spell the young sorceress had used, it had been so potent that it had spilled over to the spectators, healing even Vik’s minor wound. “What kind of sorcery is this?” he wondered in terrified awe.
Vik now knew why Ganir had dispatched so many of his men to find this girl. As the sorceress touched Davish, Vik pricked his finger and touched the Life Capture Sphere he was carrying with him.
*
His heart racing, Ganir regained his senses. For a brief moment, he wondered if he would ever get used to the disorienting effects of his invention, and then his mind turned to what he had just witnessed.
“What had the boy done?” he thought darkly, pricking his finger and touching the Life Capture Sphere.
*
Augusta came back to herself with a gasp. Quickly pricking her finger, she touched the Life Capture Sphere on the table in front of her. The last thing she wanted was to expose her private thoughts to the person who would use this droplet next, as Ganir had just done. It was bad enough that there would still be a moment of her feelings captured for anyone to see—a moment of overwhelming horror and disgust.
Her fears had come true: the thing had unnatural powers.
“What of Davish?” she asked Ganir, trying to remain calm. “In the droplet, the creature was reaching for him.”
The Council Leader hesitated for a moment. “He’s not . . . exactly himself after meeting her, according to Vik.”
“What do you mean?” Augusta gave him a questioning look.
“How much do you know about Davish?”
She frowned. “Not much. I know he’s Kelvin’s overseer and supposedly not much better than our esteemed colleague.”
Kelvin was her least favorite member of the Sorcerer Council. His mistreatment of his people was legendary. Several years ago, Blaise had even petitioned for Kelvin to get kicked off the Council and have his holdings confiscated, but, of course, no one had dared to implement such a precedent against a fellow sorcerer. Instead, Kelvin ended up giving control of his lands to Davish—who turned out to be a mirror image of his master when it came to the treatment of peasants.
Ganir nodded, an expression of disgust appearing on his face. “That’s an understatement. Davish’s reputation has traveled far and wide. That atrocity they call the Coliseum was originally Davish’s idea—”
“What happened to him?” Augusta interrupted.
“Well, apparently after the encounter you just saw, Davish has already begun to change many policies in the territory. He has initiated an aid effort for the families most affected by the drought, and there are rumors that he may close or change the Coliseum games after the upcoming events.” Ganir’s eyes gleamed. “In short, Davish is a changed man. Literally.”
Augusta’s stomach twisted unpleasantly. “The creature changed him? Just like that? How do you even change someone?”
“Well, theoretically, there are ways—”
Augusta stared at him. “You can do this, too?”
“No.” Ganir shook his head. “I wish I could, but I can’t. At most, I could control a commoner’s mind for a short period of time. The mathematics and the complexity of deep fundamental change are beyond human capabilities.”