The Spell Realm (The Sorcery Code #2)(36)

That, and the fact that Augusta cared for him—or so Barson hoped, at least.





Chapter 20: Augusta





Hearing the door open, Augusta looked up from the spell she’d been working on—the powerful spell that was starting to finally come together. Barson’s broad-shouldered frame appeared in the doorway. Instead of his usual Guard uniform, he was wearing a merchant’s hooded garment.

For a moment, they regarded each other silently, then Augusta got up and walked toward him. He pulled her into his embrace and kissed her with the usual urgent hunger. Before they could get carried away again, however, he pulled back.

“Augusta . . . there is something you should know,” he said quietly, still holding her in his arms. “A sorcerer friend of mine saw Ganir leaving the Tower and followed him.”

Augusta stared at him, surprised by the change of topic. “A sorcerer friend of yours? Who?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Barson said. “The important thing is where Ganir went and why he went there.”

“Where did he go?”

Barson let go of her and stepped back, pulling out a rolled-up map from a bag he had hanging over his shoulder. “Here,” he said, pointing at a place on the western edge of the land. “It appears he landed somewhere in this canyon.”

Augusta’s hands balled into fists. The old man had betrayed them after all. “I see. That must be where they’re hiding. I wonder how Ganir knew . . . unless he’s been helping them hide all along.”

“Yes, that’s what I also thought when I heard about this,” Barson said. “It looks like the Council Leader has been secretly collaborating with your enemy. I don’t see any other reason for him to go to the mountains. It’s not exactly a short trip.”

She frowned as a question occurred to her. “Why did this sorcerer follow Ganir?”

“Because I asked him to keep an eye on Ganir for you,” Barson said. “Because I thought that something like that might happen.”

Augusta regarded her lover curiously. She had underestimated Barson; he seemed to be as well-versed in intrigue as any sorcerer in the Tower. Why had she never seen this before? “Did your man get close enough to see Blaise?” she asked, staring at his hard features. “Did he see the creature? Do you think they’re hiding in the canyon?”

Barson shrugged. “All I know is that Ganir landed. My source was too cowardly to get close. As it was, he had to use the clouds for cover the entire way and maintain a solid distance between Ganir and himself.”

Augusta nodded. “I see.” This wasn’t quite as much detail as she’d hoped, but it was enough for her. Her every instinct was screaming that Barson’s suspicions were right—that Ganir had indeed gone to meet with Blaise. She felt a burning anger at the thought. “I think it’s time Ganir and I had a little conversation,” she said slowly, musing out loud. “Perhaps he’ll be able to answer these questions . . .”

Barson frowned. “What do you mean, ‘have a conversation?’ You should tell the others about this, confront him in a public forum.”

Augusta stared at him, mildly annoyed. “I’ll handle this in my own way.” As much as she appreciated Barson’s help, she had no intention of taking political advice from a soldier—even one who appeared to be smarter than she’d thought.

Her lover’s expression darkened. “Augusta, don’t do anything rash. He’s a powerful sorcerer, and I don’t want you in danger. And speaking of that, we need to talk about what happens when the Council goes to deal with Blaise’s creation.”

Augusta raised her eyebrows. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t want you to go with them,” he said, holding her gaze. “It’s too dangerous.”

“Too dangerous? Are you saying the entire Council can’t handle this thing?”

“You weren’t there,” Barson said. “You didn’t see what she can do. She’s this beautiful, fragile-looking girl, but she was fighting better than any seasoned warrior. Then I was all but dead, and she brought me back to life . . .” There was awe and barely concealed admiration in his voice, and a sudden ugly suspicion stirred in Augusta’s mind.

“Did she touch you?” she asked quietly, her heart beginning to beat faster. “Did she do something to you?” Her stomach curdled at the memory of how Kelvin’s overseer had been changed . . . and at Blaise’s infatuation with the monster. Was Barson now affected by the creature too? Had it somehow messed with his mind, or was he simply reacting to its deceptive beauty?

“What?” Barson looked surprised by her questions. “I told you, she healed me when I lay there, broken from the fall. But that’s not important . . . I don’t want you going on this mission.”

Augusta felt her hackles rising. “You don’t get to tell me what to do,” she said evenly, her pulse still pounding at the suspicion that the creature might’ve gotten to Barson in some way—or worse, that he lusted after it.

Barson’s nostrils flared. “You don’t understand. There are bigger things at play here—”

“I understand exactly what’s at play here,” Augusta interrupted, her fury growing by the minute. “You don’t want this thing dead either, do you? You, Blaise, Ganir—it’s gotten to you all. It’s chosen its guise well, hasn’t it? Men can’t seem to think straight when it comes to her—”