The Spell Realm (The Sorcery Code #2)(27)

Putting the droplet in his mouth, Barson felt it overtaking his mind.



*



Picking up the droplet, Dara put it under her tongue, curious as to what it contained. She’d found it on the floor of Jandison’s office, lying carelessly under his desk. It helped that Jandison was such a slob. He would never notice its absence, she thought right before she was pulled under.



*



Jandison watched the final stages of the voting process with a strange mix of satisfaction and regret. He didn’t like Louie—the boy had always been Ganir’s puppet, treating Jandison without any respect—but Jandison regretted upsetting Louie’s brother. And Blaise would be very upset when he found out the results of this vote.

Of course, that could only benefit Jandison at this point. He needed some way to reduce Ganir’s influence on the Council, and this was the first step in that direction. Ganir and Dasbraw’s sons were close, but they wouldn’t be for much longer. If all went according to plan, Louie would be gone, and Blaise would hate Ganir very shortly.

Jandison would need to speak to Blaise, to apologize for his role in Louie’s sentencing. He would tell Blaise that he’d changed his mind, but it was too late. He would explain how he had been persuaded to vote along with the rest of the Council, how everybody but Blaise voted the same way.

And everybody would end up voting the same way—at least once Jandison was done moving the voting stones into their proper place.



*



Regaining her sense of self, Dara stared blankly at the Sphere. She had never been so surprised in her life. Before she could analyze this further, she quickly touched the Sphere with her bloody finger, creating a new droplet.



*



“What was that?” Barson asked in shock, staring at his sister. “Did I understand it correctly? Jandison had something to do with fixing a vote?”

She nodded, her eyes shining. “Yes. And I doubt Louie’s trial was the only vote he’d tampered with.”

“But why?” Barson asked, frowning. “Why do something so treasonous?”

“Because I think this is his way of taking what he feels is his rightful due,” Dara said with an undertone of admiration. “Because, by controlling the vote, he—not Ganir—becomes the true leader of the Council . . . and I have long suspected this is something Jandison wants.”

“Of course,” Barson said slowly, “he’s the oldest, but most dismiss him as only a teleportation expert, nothing more. But that’s what the vote is, right? They teleport those stones in there?”

“Yes, exactly.” Dara beamed at him. “He must’ve come up with some way to move the stones from one box to another as it suits his purpose. I don’t think he teleports them, since I read that the boxes are made impenetrable to that kind of magic, but perhaps he created some kind of pathway or a portal between them to bypass this restriction—”

“The particulars of how he does it are not relevant,” Barson said, cutting short her excited lecture. Like all sorcerers, Dara could ramble about spell details for hours on end. “What we need to figure out is how we can use this information.”

“I’ve already thought about it,” Dara said, grinning. “I think it would be quite helpful if Ganir knew about this.”

Barson considered that for a moment. “Yes, I think you’re right. Divide and conquer might be the way to go here. We just need to make sure we don’t cast the validity of the latest vote into question.”

She appeared thoughtful. “Yes, we want to plant the suspicion in Ganir’s mind, but not arm him with damning evidence.”

“How about an anonymous letter?” Barson suggested. “We could have it delivered to Ganir’s quarters. It would make him suspicious, but won’t be enough for him to go public with his accusations.”

“Right.” Dara looked excited. “And if he did, everyone would assume he’s being a sore loser because the last vote didn’t go his way. But the letter would be enough for him to distrust and suspect Jandison—and that could take his attention away from us and cause some additional rifts within the Council.”

“Excellent.” Barson gave his sister an approving look. “Let’s do it.”





Chapter 15: Blaise





At the realization of what was happening, Blaise jumped up, cursing. The meadow around them was on fire, the flames devouring the bushes with startling speed. The smoke was thick and noxious, choking them, and he heard Gala beginning to cough. There was no time to waste.

Acting on instinct, Blaise began to chant the words of the spell he’d used to put out the fire in his house during Augusta’s visit. He could hear his own voice growing hoarse from the smoke, and he wondered fleetingly why all the women in his life tried to burn him lately. By the time the spell was complete, he could barely speak—but foam began streaming from his hands, putting out the fire with record speed. Within minutes, the blaze was out, and they were standing in the middle of the soggy clearing, looking at the ashes of what used to be a beautiful green meadow.

“I’m so sorry!” Gala wailed, covering her face with her hands. “Oh, Blaise, I’m so sorry . . . I lost control again. I could’ve really hurt you—”