The Spell Realm (The Sorcery Code #2)(15)
She was certain that Moriner and Kelvin would vote to go after Blaise’s monstrosity—and that Ganir would vote against it. The rest of the Council was more ambiguous. Gina—Blaise’s replacement—should theoretically be interested in doing anything that would prevent Blaise from coming back to the Council. However, Augusta was not friends with her and had no idea if she had judged the young woman correctly. There were also eight other Councilors whose vote could go in any direction—far too large of a margin of uncertainty. Augusta needed at least three more people on her side, preferably four, in case Gina didn’t act as rationally as Augusta hoped.
Sitting down at her desk, Augusta considered the remaining players. Lenton, Mansir, and Pesla were spineless creatures who almost always sided with Ganir. Furak did too, usually, but Augusta thought he could be swayed. One of the younger Council members and an expert on defensive spells, Furak had always had a soft spot for Augusta, once even going so far as to send her a bouquet of flowers for her birthday. More importantly, though, he owed her a favor—and this was as good of an opportunity to collect as any.
That left Dini, Ruark, Dania, and Jandison. The first two actively disliked Augusta and talking to them could only do harm. If they were sufficiently scared, they might vote to go after the creature, but they could just as easily vote against out of sheer spite.
Now Jandison . . . There was some hope there. The old man had always been pleasant to Augusta, though she found him to be a bit of a dark horse when it came to his allegiances. Although he was the oldest member of the Council, he was not nearly as respected or influential as Ganir. Augusta wondered whether he might resent that fact.
Dania, the librarian, was Augusta’s secret weapon. Nobody would expect her to go against Ganir, her friend and ally, but Augusta had some ideas of how to persuade her. The price would be high, but it would be worth it in the end.
Augusta would do anything to ensure that the creature paid for Barson’s death.
*
Leaving Furak’s chambers, Augusta walked through the Tower halls, a small smile playing on her lips. The young sorcerer had been even easier to persuade than she’d hoped. His infatuation with Augusta was so obvious, she almost felt embarrassed for him. With his pale blond hair and boyish looks, he was attractive enough, she supposed, but he did nothing for her. Not like Barson . . .
A spear of agony shot through her at the thought. For a moment, it hurt so much, she felt like she couldn’t breathe, but then she pulled herself together with effort. Her lover was gone, and there was nothing she could do about it—but she could ensure his death was not in vain.
Pausing in front of Jandison’s chambers, Augusta knocked quietly, hoping that the old sorcerer was there. She should’ve probably sent him a Contact message ahead of time, but she’d gotten caught up in her conversation with Furak, and it was too late now.
After about a minute, she heard shuffling footsteps, and the door swung open. Jandison stood there, his rheumy eyes peering at her questioningly.
“Master Jandison,” Augusta said respectfully. “I wanted to discuss something with you.”
He offered her a surprised smile. “Of course, child. What can I do for you?” And gesturing for her to step inside, he shuffled toward the desk standing in the middle of the room.
Augusta tried to remember how old Jandison was. Older than Ganir, that was for sure. A hundred? A hundred-and-twenty? He had to be quite old—unless he was just inept at revitalizing spells. Augusta herself was in her mid-thirties, but she knew she looked hardly older than twenty.
“I am sorry about your loss,” Jandison said softly, sitting down behind his desk with some effort.
“Thank you,” Augusta said, startled. She had briefly mentioned her relationship with Barson when she was explaining the situation with the creature to the Council, but the last thing she had expected was sympathy from Jandison or the others.
“I am sure Ganir had not meant to cause such a disaster,” Jandison continued, leaning back in his chair. “He couldn’t have foreseen that sending the Guard after this thing would result in their deaths.”
Augusta swallowed, the ache in her chest intensifying and transforming into slow-burning fury. “I’m sorry, Councilor,” she said evenly. “I find it difficult to hold our Council Leader blameless in this.”
Jandison nodded. “Of course, I understand. This is rather tragic, and his judgment could’ve been better.”
“Yes, it could’ve been,” Augusta said. Then, following her intuition, she added, “Had you been the Council Leader, I’m sure this would’ve been handled differently.”
Jandison’s eyes gleamed brighter, though he didn’t say anything, and Augusta knew she was on the right track. She was surprised she hadn’t seen this before. Jandison was, in fact, quite jealous of Ganir. “Never mind,” she said quietly, “please ignore my incautious statement. I’m clearly letting my emotions get the better of me.”
Jandison looked at her, a speculative expression appearing on his wrinkled face. “I think I can guess why you’re here, child,” he said. “You don’t have to worry about the upcoming vote. The creature will be dealt with, I assure you.”
Augusta pondered his assurance, surprised both by his perceptiveness and his confidence. How could he be so certain the vote would go in this direction? If anything, so far the odds were not in Augusta’s favor—which was exactly why she was here. “I hope you’re right,” she said dubiously, frowning a little.