The Spell Realm (The Sorcery Code #2)(47)
Suddenly, a bright flash of light blinded him, and the ground vibrated under his feet. Sparks flew just outside the barrier, and Blaise realized that a tree nearby had been struck by lightning, the force of the blast splitting it apart.
Almost immediately, there was another flash, followed by another clap of thunder. Still running, Blaise realized that the lightning struck the village again, this time setting one of the houses on fire.
The storm was worsening.
Frantically knocking on the door of the neighbors’ house, Blaise stared in disbelief as the deadly force struck the village again and again, the ice melting wherever lightning touched the ground.
“Blaise!” The door opened so suddenly that he jumped, startled. Gala was standing there, a worried expression on her face.
Tremendously relieved to see that she was all right, he hugged her for a quick second. “Come,” he said, stepping back. “We need to get back to Liva’s house. I left my Stone there without thinking, and I need to create a new shield, as this one will not hold up for long. Did you finish everything?”
She nodded. “I just got done strengthening this house. A woman got hurt trying to get here, and I healed her—that’s what took me so long.”
“Good, let’s go,” Blaise said tersely, grabbing her hand. Lightning struck the barrier, sparks flying everywhere, and he saw the bubble flicker even more. “We have to get back there, now.”
They ran to Liva’s house as the barrier flickered again and again, the shimmer fading in spots as boulder-sized hail continued to pound against it, and bolts of lightning struck over and over again.
“Quickly, inside!” Blaise pushed Gala into the house just as the shield gave way under the assault.
He was less than a foot away from the door himself when he heard a sickening crack, followed by an agony so intense that his entire world went black.
Chapter 30: Augusta
Running through the hallways, Augusta ignored the startled looks she was getting from the apprentices and other sorcerers. All that mattered to her now was finding Barson. Where could he have gone?
As she’d expected, his quarters were empty. Her breathing fast and uneven, she stopped to think for a second. There was a spell she could do to aid her in the search, she realized after a moment. If Barson was anywhere in the vicinity, perhaps she would be able to hear him.
Pulling out her cards, she frantically began scribbling. Two minutes later she could hear the mice squeaking in the distant hallways and the chatter of conversation on the other side of the Tower.
She also heard a sound that nearly made her heart stop: the ding of metal clashing against metal. It was coming from the Guard’s training barracks.
Augusta ran there with all the speed she could muster.
Rounding the corner, she saw Barson locked in a deadly combat with his friend Larn. Two other men were lying on the floor, surrounded by sand and blood. As she opened her mouth to scream Barson’s name, she saw both men slump to the floor, a pool of blood spreading out from under their bodies.
“No!” Augusta had no idea how she had ended up across the room, but suddenly she was there, kneeling next to Barson. She could hear his ragged breathing, and tears of gratitude ran down her face. He wasn’t dead. Not yet, at least. Her hands shaking, she pulled out her cards and began working on a healing spell.
It was a race against time. The spell needed to be precise, but with every second that passed, Barson was losing more and more blood. With her enhanced hearing, Augusta could hear his heart laboring harder and harder as his lungs struggled to draw in enough air. She tried to focus, to concentrate, but tears kept blurring her vision, her cards getting smeared with blood that seemed to be coming from everywhere.
With one last stuttering beat, Barson’s heart stopped.
Augusta wanted to scream. No. She wouldn’t let this happen. She couldn’t. The spell was not yet complete, but she began loading it into the Stone anyway, using one hand to feed the cards and the other to write the last few lines.
The spell was finally complete.
She waited with baited breath for the wounds to begin to heal, but nothing happened.
Her entire body began to shake. Crawling on top of Barson, Augusta began pressing methodically on his chest with her hands, trying to get the heart muscle working again. Leaning down, she placed her mouth over his and began to blow air into his lungs. Push, blow. Push, blow. Augusta had never done this sort of healing by hand before. She wasn’t sure if she was doing it correctly, but that didn’t matter. She couldn’t give up, couldn’t let Barson die. She felt like she was doing it forever, but only moments must’ve passed before she heard a faint heartbeat.
Laughing and crying, she sat back and watched as the spell began to take effect, the wounds slowly mending as the damaged tissue began to knit together from the inside out.
When Barson was fully healed, she turned her attention to Larn. The soldier was sprawled unconscious on the floor, his jaw broken. Feeling utterly drained, Augusta nonetheless managed to write another spell for him—both to clear his mind of Ganir’s influence and to heal his injuries.
When she was finished, she had no energy left for the other two men. One of them appeared to be long dead, anyway, while the other one was simply knocked out. Feeling like she was going to pass out herself at any moment, Augusta headed wearily back to her quarters. There was a Council meeting coming up in a couple of hours, and she desperately needed to get some rest. She couldn’t afford to be less than her best at that meeting.