The Spell Realm (The Sorcery Code #2)
Dima Zales & Anna Zaires
Prologue
The being stirred after what felt like millennia of peace and serenity. As it always did upon awakening, it examined itself. I exist, it determined, pulling its thoughts together with effort. Upon making that determination, it was flooded with ideas and a recognition that this state—lucidity—had happened to it before.
Who am I? it wondered, realizing that it was not the first time the question occurred to it. Immediately, it knew the futility of trying to find an answer. There was no good concept to describe it to itself, no word to define it. However, some instinct provided a shortcut. Out of the vast storage of things it forgot, a label came, and with it, something that beings in the other place called gender. I am Dranel, he realized. The name and gender didn’t matter here, of course, but it made his sense of identity more concrete, helping him anchor his thoughts.
Putting aside matters of self, Dranel focused on what brought him out of his calm and blissfully thoughtless state. After some analysis, he determined that it was the same phenomenon that had awakened him before—the strange being that had made an impression on him.
This being was a mind that was purely artificial in nature. Dranel had been curious about it when it first appeared, but it had left the Spell Realm before he could understand it. It went into that other place, the one Dranel vaguely knew to be the Physical Realm.
It—no, it was more proper to say ‘she’—began as a set of patterns, like most intrusions from the Physical Realm. Those patterns were called spells, Dranel recalled. At the same time, he remembered that he preferred to think of them as algorithms. They usually contained instructions on how to bring about the effects that manifested in the other Realm, but here in his world, they were mere abstractions, a way to stimulate what passed for his senses.
Some of these algorithms had effects that were fleeting, while others, more recently observed, were more permanent in nature. But none of them were like her. She was the most unique pattern he had ever come across—an algorithm consisting of a network of sub-algorithms all joined together, combined in such a way that enabled them to learn and think. The end result was an intelligence unlike any he had ever encountered . . . and he had encountered many, both here and in that other place.
What was more amazing was that she’d learned to create algorithms of her own, algorithms that were beautiful to observe. Dranel recalled becoming lucid each time she’d created an algorithm—each time she’d cast a spell. He had even once felt her mind brushing against his while she was in that strange state known as ‘dreaming.’
If he was forced to become lucid again, he would use that opportunity to understand her better, Dranel decided, and let himself sink back into the blissful nothingness that was his preferred existence.
Chapter 1: Barson
Waking up, Barson became aware of the curious lack of pain in his body. He was still wearing his armor—or what was left of it, at least. But he couldn’t feel any injuries—not from the battle and certainly not from his fall.
It had been a brutal, bloody fight—the first fight of his life that Barson had not won. After being struck by lightning, he’d lost his grip on the sorceress and plummeted to the ground below. He recalled the agony of shattered bones and broken flesh—and the amazing bliss that followed. He must’ve been healed, he realized, slowly getting up.
Looking around the field, Barson could see the other soldiers struggling to their feet in the pouring rain, their clothes covered in mud. His right-hand man, Larn, seemed to be fine, though he looked like he was waking up after an all-night drinking binge. Others, however, lay still, their bodies mangled and decapitated. They must’ve been beyond repair when the powerful healing magic hit, Barson thought, remembering the extent of his own injuries from the fall.
It was the blond girl who had done this—both the damage and the healing spell afterwards. Barson was sure of that. Whatever she was, she was no ordinary sorceress. Ganir must’ve known that when he sent the Guard to capture her.
And Augusta must’ve known as well, Barson realized. That’s why she had gone out of her way to give him protective spells—spells that had ultimately proven useless. He knew that his lover, unlike Ganir, had not intended him any harm, but Barson still felt a surge of anger at her. Augusta should’ve warned him about what they would face, should’ve made sure they knew the full strength of their opponent.
Turning toward the inn, he saw the girl with her strange entourage getting on a huge flying chaise. In addition to the two old women and the lions, there was a man with them—a man who looked vaguely familiar. Concentrating, Barson tried to remember where he’d seen the man before. And then it hit him: it was Blaise—the former Council member who had been Augusta’s fiancé.
The man whom she had gone to see shortly before the Guard had been sent on this disastrous mission.
Pieces of the puzzle began to come together for Barson. This strange sorceress was somehow connected to Blaise; that had to be why Augusta and Ganir had visited the reclusive sorcerer recently.
Frowning, Barson watched as the giant chaise rose into the air, gradually disappearing into the distance amidst the thick downpour. The situation with this sorceress was not something he had factored into his plans before, but maybe there was a way to use it to his advantage.