The Spell Realm (The Sorcery Code #2)(3)
Craving physical closeness, he pulled her into his embrace again, stroking her hair. She buried her face against his shoulder, sliding her arms around his waist, and he knew that she needed this as much as he did . . . that she also derived comfort from his touch.
He kept his arm around her as he continued loading the cards into the Stone. When all the tele-jumps were complete, they were only a few miles away from the mountains’ towering peaks.
Chapter 3: Augusta
Leaving her chambers, Augusta walked through the Tower halls. She felt cold and numb inside; it was as if a chill had seeped deep into her bones. Her eyes, however, were dry. She had cried all the tears that she could.
Barson was dead, killed by the creature Blaise had summoned.
Augusta walked faster, pushing the images of the bloody, shattered mirror out of her mind. Even after the healing spell she’d done on her hands, they still ached slightly, and she wondered if some tiny glass fragments had gotten lodged under her skin.
Entering the Council Hall, she gazed around the huge empty chamber. The Hall was considered one of the most beautiful rooms in the Tower, with murals covering the walls and ceiling. It was said that some of these drawings were created by Lenard the Great himself—the man who had discovered the Spell Realm. Like many of the most talented sorcerers, Lenard had been a polymath, excelling in everything from music to architecture.
Although the room had been originally constructed as a central gathering place for all inhabitants of the Tower, the Council had gradually taken it over, using it for their meetings and other Council-sponsored events. On the far side of the room, near the stained-glass windows, thirteen intricate thrones stood in a circular formation around a large marble table—one throne for each member of the Council. The front and center of the room were empty, to allow for maximum-strength soundproofing spells. It was all but impossible to eavesdrop on a Council meeting, although ambitious acolytes still kept trying.
In the corner of the room, a large iridescent gong hung from the ceiling. One of the few magical objects that preceded the Interpreter Stone, it was originally meant to be used as a warning system. One loud bang was all it took to warn the Tower occupants of danger. Now, however, the gong was only utilized to announce Council meetings.
Approaching it, Augusta picked up a small hammer lying beside it and hit the gong with all her strength. The resulting vibration nearly sent her to her knees. The sound echoed throughout the cavernous chamber, causing the walls to shake, and Augusta knew that every hallway in the Tower would be blasted by the noise.
Walking over to one of the thrones, Augusta sat down and waited for the confused Councilors to appear. Her heart was pounding with anticipation. These days, only Ganir used the gong; it was largely a ceremonial tool, a way for the Council members to remind everyone of their standing. When the acolytes heard the loud sound, they knew that a meeting was about to occur—and that they still had a long way to go before they could aspire to be present at such a momentous occasion. Augusta found it extremely satisfying to use the gong herself, bypassing the usual protocol.
Within a quarter-hour, the Councilors began to gather. They trickled in one at a time, some angry, some puzzled. Augusta greeted them all calmly. “I will explain what’s going on when everybody arrives,” she kept saying whenever someone tried to press her for answers. When all members except Ganir were ensconced on their thrones, Augusta clapped her hands together and waited for the room to fall silent.
“Councilors,” she said in a clear, ringing voice. “I have called you here today because we are all in grave danger—”
“Excuse me, Augusta, shouldn’t we wait for Ganir?” Dania interrupted. The librarian of the Council, the old woman was also a notorious ally of the Council Leader. Augusta wasn’t surprised Dania was the one to challenge her.
“Ganir is aware of the situation,” Augusta said dismissively. She was only partially lying. The old sorcerer knew of the threat Blaise’s monster posed, but he didn’t know that the Sorcerer Guard—and Augusta’s lover among them—had been brutally slaughtered. And that was fine with Augusta. The last thing she wanted was for Ganir to prevent her from telling the truth to the Council again.
Dania frowned, but didn’t say anything else as Augusta began her explanation. “Councilors, I asked you to gather here today—”
“What is the meaning of this?” This time it was Ganir’s voice that interrupted the proceedings as the Council Leader entered the hall, a deep frown on his wrinkled face.
Augusta stared at him, sudden bitter hatred welling up in her chest. “They’re dead,” she said harshly. “The creature killed them all.”
Ganir blanched, looking stunned, and shocked murmurs filled the room.
“Who killed whom?” Jandison asked, frowning. The teleportation expert was even older than Ganir and known for his blunt approach.
Augusta took a deep breath. “Let me start from the beginning,” she said, watching Ganir’s expression darken with displeasure. “I’m afraid that our esteemed Council Leader and I are guilty of a grave error of judgment—”
Ganir’s eyes narrowed, but he didn’t say anything. It was too late for him to stop Augusta, and he knew it.
“—an error that cost the Sorcerer Guard their lives,” Augusta continued, watching the Councilors’ reaction to her words. “Because we hesitated—because we wanted to protect one of our own—we allowed evil to flourish and paid the price for our mistake.”