The Spell Realm (The Sorcery Code #2)(26)

“You’re . . .” Her face was pale, her lips barely moving. “You’re not dead.”

“No, I’m not,” he said gently, pulling her toward him. He could feel her beginning to shake, and fierce satisfaction surged through him. She cared. She genuinely cared about him. Nobody could fake that kind of physical response. He also felt an unwelcome twinge of guilt for putting her through this—a guilt that he immediately suppressed. As he had hoped, the Council had voted to confront the threat of the young sorceress, and he strongly suspected that the Guard being ‘dead’ was a factor in that decision.

“How?” Augusta whispered, reaching up to touch his face with a trembling hand. “I thought I saw you die . . . Is this real? Are you real?”

“Oh, I’m real,” Barson assured her, picking her up and carrying her over to the bed. “Why don’t I show you just how real I am?” he murmured, starting to take off her remaining clothes.

And for the next couple of hours, he proved to her that he was fully alive and well.



*



When they were lying spent in each other’s arms, Augusta began crying. Surprised, Barson stroked her glossy hair, not knowing what else to do.

“I’m sorry,” she said after a minute, wiping away the tears. “I think I’m just exhausted and . . . and so relieved that you’re alive. I still can’t believe it. How did it happen?”

Barson hesitated for a moment, then decided that he had nothing to lose by telling her about the battle. As he explained how the young sorceress had healed many of them, he could feel the growing tension in Augusta’s body.

Pulling back from him, she stared at him through tear-wet lashes. “Such power,” she whispered, and there was horror in her voice. “Such inhuman, unnatural power . . .”

“Yes,” Barson said, “I’ve never experienced anything like it before. It was euphoric, amazing . . . and the way she wielded the sword . . .” He couldn’t hide the admiration in his voice, which seemed to upset Augusta. Her expression darkened, her eyes narrowing into golden slits, and he quickly added, “Of course, she’s dangerous and needs to be dealt with.”

“She needs to be wiped out of existence.” Augusta’s voice was low and furious. “This kind of creature cannot be allowed to live.”

“Creature?”

Augusta nodded, and then she told him the most incredible story he’d ever heard. When she was done, he stared at Augusta in disbelief. Only a sorcerer would’ve done something so foolish—creating life without a thought to possible consequences. Their hubris knew no bounds.

“Does everybody know that the Guard has survived?” Augusta asked, interrupting that train of thought.

Barson understood where she was heading immediately. “No,” he said, looking at her. “I rode ahead of my men.” He’d suspected that this might be Augusta’s reaction, and he was glad that she was taking the conversation in this direction.

“I don’t know how to put it delicately,” she said slowly, holding his gaze, “but do you think your men could take a well-deserved vacation for the next couple of weeks?”

“Oh?” Barson arched his eyebrows. She was doing exactly what he’d hoped.

“Your survival could . . . change things,” Augusta said quietly. “It could cast the validity of the vote in doubt, since it was based on potentially faulty information.”

“I understand.” Barson hid his satisfaction. “We’ll do as you ask and stay dead for now. Though, of course, this won’t be easy on my men’s families . . .” He added that last touch to give the appearance of reluctance. It wouldn’t do to seem too eager.

“I know.” Augusta frowned a bit. “I don’t want them to suffer, but this is too important to be left to a re-vote. We need the Council to take her out. You understand that, right?”

“I do.” Barson sighed, pretending to be thinking about this. “Perhaps we can have my men dress as peasants for now and visit their families in secret.”

“That’s a great idea,” Augusta said, giving him a quick smile. “Thank you. I really owe you for this.”

“Of course, if Ganir finds out about this . . .” Barson let his voice trail off.

“Don’t worry. I will handle Ganir if it comes to that,” she said, and there was a hard glitter in her eyes.

“In that case, we’ll do as you ask,” Barson promised, leaning down to kiss her again.

This had gone even better than he’d expected. Everything was falling nicely into place.



*



“There’s something I have to tell you,” Dara said, greeting Barson with a hug as he stepped inside her house.

“What is it?” Barson asked curiously, following her toward her study.

“Actually, it might be best if you see this for yourself.” She led him toward the desk in the middle of the room and held out a needle. “Here, prick your finger. You’ll want to record this.”

“All right.” Not bothering to question Dara, Barson held the needle to his finger, letting a droplet of blood well up. Then he pressed it to the Life Capture Sphere that sat on the desk.

“Good. Now take this.” She handed him a droplet, and he realized that she wanted to retain the information on this droplet, to have his experience of consuming it recorded. Whatever was on this droplet had to be fairly important.