The Spell Realm (The Sorcery Code #2)(30)
“That’s amazing, Liva,” Blaise said, impressed by the woman’s ingenuity. He’d never heard of anyone using a variant of a healing spell to make trees stronger. He himself had worked on this type of problem, but his approach relied on modifying the seeds to produce more resilient crops. As he thought about it, he made a mental note to offer these types of seeds to the villagers, given the problems they seemed to have with the storms.
There was also another thing that he could do to help the villagers, Blaise realized. “How would you like to learn written sorcery?” he asked Liva. With a more powerful tool, he knew this woman would be able to do more good for her people.
“Oh, I would love that,” Liva exclaimed, a wide smile appearing on her face. Then the smile dimmed. “But wouldn’t I need an Interpreter Stone for that?”
“Yes, you would.” Blaise smiled at her. “Luckily, I have a very good idea how to make one. I could create one for you, given enough time. For now, you could practice with mine.”
“That would be amazing,” Liva said, “but I don’t know if I could afford such a treasure—”
“Liva, please . . .” Blaise gave her an exasperated look. “You are offering us your hospitality. This is the least I can do in return.” And before she could protest, he added, “Why don’t you join Gala and me for a lesson tomorrow? As it so happens, I plan to start introducing her to written spells.”
Chapter 16: Augusta
The white mouse ran around its cage as Augusta prepared the latest version of her spell. When it was ready, she fed the cards into the Interpreter Stone and waited. The results were almost instantaneous.
Within seconds, the mouse collapsed, appearing dead.
Reaching into the cage, Augusta pulled out the little animal and studied it closely, feeling its heartbeat. It was not dead after all; the spell had worked as intended. Dania’s books had turned out to be quite helpful.
Sighing, Augusta placed the mouse back in its cage and began to prepare the next spell in her arsenal. That one, if successful, would likely kill the mouse, so Augusta intended to try it on a cockroach instead.
She was also making progress on her physics project, and the results of what she was uncovering were breathtaking—and frightening. She had been thinking about this theory for months, but only since Barson’s ‘death’ had she realized the destructive potential of what she was studying. If she was right, then she could use this previously unimaginable power to destroy the creature if all other measures failed. What she needed was a viable spell to go along with the theory.
After a few minutes, she realized that her attention was drifting again. For the first time in her life, Augusta had difficulty focusing on her work. Ever since she woke up alone in her bed this morning, she’d been gripped by a sense of unreality. It was difficult for her to believe that after everything, Barson had survived—that he was as alive and vital as ever.
Everything she’d done since that awful battle was based on the assumption that he was dead, that the creature had killed him and other members of the Guard. Had Augusta done the right thing in committing the Council to this course of action? At the time, she’d had no doubt, but now she wondered if there had been something else she could’ve done instead. If there was some way she could’ve destroyed the monster without endangering Blaise in the process.
Her gaze turned toward a small droplet lying on her desk. It was the one she had picked up in Blaise’s house during her last visit there—the one that had been lying discarded on the floor. She suspected that this droplet most likely contained a memory of her and Blaise’s time together . . . a memory that her former lover clearly didn’t value anymore.
She hesitated for a moment, then her hand reached for the droplet, almost involuntarily.
Closing her eyes, Augusta placed it under her tongue.
*
Blaise sat with Augusta in a large auditorium, watching the show of light unfolding in front of them. It was a spectacle unlike any other, with every color of the rainbow meshing together and separating in large spheres. The spheres looked like gigantic soap bubbles moving in fractal patterns, flowing with the serene music that accompanied the show.
“I always thought sorcery could be beautiful,” Blaise whispered, leaning closer to Augusta, “but this is truly amazing.”
She gazed up at him, her amber eyes reflecting the lights. “You’re right—it’s gorgeous.”
Blaise felt a familiar warmth in his chest, a type of tenderness mixed with overwhelming desire. Even after seven years together, Augusta was still the most beautiful woman he had ever seen—not to mention, the most intelligent. Minor philosophical disagreements aside, she was everything he had ever wanted.
It was time, Blaise decided. He had waited for the perfect moment, and it wasn’t ever going to get better than this.
Reaching out, he took her hand, holding it gently. Then he lifted her palm to his lips, kissing each finger in the traditional declaration of intent. Her eyes rounded with wonder, her soft mouth parting in surprise, and he quickly spoke the words: “Augusta, my love, will you be my bride?”
She blinked, staring at him, and then a smile of sheer joy lit her face. “Yes . . . Yes, Blaise, of course.”
He had never been so happy in his life.