The Spell Realm (The Sorcery Code #2)(46)
As the fight continued, Barson began to feel his blood loss more acutely. A wave of dizziness washed over him, blurring his vision. Larn lunged at him in that moment, and their swords clashed together. Gathering his last strength, Barson punched Larn in the stomach, hard, desperately hoping that the pain would snap the man out of whatever spell he was under.
It did not. Instead, Barson felt a fire explode in his right shoulder as Larn’s sword penetrated his own defenses.
Despite the injury, Barson’s right hand instinctively moved to block what would’ve been a killing blow. At the same time, his left hand grabbed Larn’s sword arm with all his might. Everything depended on disarming his friend. Almost dislocating his own shoulder, Barson ripped at Larn’s sword, causing the object to fly across the room.
Disarmed, Larn still didn’t make a sound. Instead, he hit Barson’s wounded shoulder, causing an explosion of agony to spread. Cursing, Barson felt his sword slip from his numb fingers. As it hit the ground, he managed to kick it across the room.
They were both weaponless now, except for their fists—but that didn’t diminish the danger one bit. Larn fought like a man possessed, and Barson did his best to remain conscious while trying to knock him out with his still-functional left hand.
It was a futile effort, and Larn kept landing blow after blow to Barson’s injured flesh. His vision going gray, Barson pretended to stumble, as if he was passing out, and as Larn lunged at him, Barson swung his right hand in a vicious uppercut, ignoring the agony in his wounded shoulder. Dimly he thought he heard a crunching sound of bone breaking, but it wasn’t clear if it was his fist or Larn’s jaw . . . and then Barson’s world went dark as his consciousness finally fled.
Chapter 29: Blaise
As Blaise continued working on the protective spells, people began coming in, one family at a time. Before long, every room of Liva’s house was crammed full of villagers. Small children ran around, squealing in excitement, while most of the adults were somber and frightened, tense with anxiety.
In the meantime, the weather outside kept getting worse with every passing second. Rain lashed at the windows, and the wind picked up, its gusts buffeting the house with startling force. Every lightning strike seemed to be getting closer, every boom of thunder more deafening than before.
“Has everyone made it in?” Blaise yelled, trying to be heard over the chaotic din of voices, wind, and rain. “Once I put up the shield over the houses, no one will be able to come through.”
“I don’t know,” Liva yelled back, shoving aside a couple of boys to get closer to him. “Many of them are in the other house—the one Gala is working on.”
Blaise quietly cursed. Given the speed with which the storm was approaching, they needed to get everyone to safety before it was too late. He had no idea how bad the storm would get, but if it was anything like the stories said, he knew it could be deadly.
As if to lend credence to his thoughts, the wooden shutters on the boarded-up kitchen window began to shake, the wind rattling them with such force that a panel broke off, flying into the room. A child cried out, then began to scream, and Blaise saw a little girl with her arm bleeding. He hesitated for a second, wanting to heal her, but there was a more important task he needed to accomplish first. If he didn’t get the shield up and strengthen the house walls promptly, they would all be in trouble.
As Blaise was finishing the last lines of his spell, he heard a loud thump, then another and another. It sounded like rocks were falling on the house, each hit more frightening than the next. He could hear the wood above them creaking and breaking, and he knew he had to hurry before the roof caved in on them. A cold fist squeezed his chest as he realized that Gala could be out there—that she might be facing the storm on her own.
“It’s hail,” someone yelled. “The hail has started . . . Mom, look at the size of those ice pieces!”
Forcing himself to ignore the panicked shouts, Blaise wrote the last line of the spell and quickly checked his work before loading the cards into the Stone.
A minute later, the worst of the racket ceased, the shield dampening the sound of the battering hail. Jumping to his feet, Blaise ran to the door, eager to retrieve Gala from the other house.
“Blaise, where are you going?” Liva screamed. “It’s too dangerous out there!”
“I’ll be right back,” Blaise yelled back. “I just need to check on the neighbors’ house.” And opening the door, he stepped outside.
*
The sight that greeted Blaise was surreal. The sky was a deep, violent purple, the clouds heavy and stretching as far as the eye could see. Flashes of lightning intermittently bisected the sky, and the smell of ozone was sharp in the air. Beyond the barrier, the deadly hail continued, icy rocks falling from the sky like boulders in a mountain slide.
Looking down in disbelief, Blaise saw that some pieces of ice underneath his feet were bigger than his head. If he hadn’t gotten the shield up in time, the roof would’ve been destroyed. As is, his barrier would not last for long under that kind of assault, he realized, staring up at the flickering shimmer of the bubble surrounding the two houses.
His heartbeat picking up, he ran across the street, the walls of the bubble providing protection from both hail and wind. Nonetheless, he could feel the crackle of electricity in the air, and the fine hair on the back of his neck stood up in response.