The Spell Realm (The Sorcery Code #2)(48)
Her last thought before she collapsed in her own bed was that she should’ve killed Ganir after all.
Chapter 31: Barson
Barson woke up on the floor of the training room covered in bloody sand. To his surprise, nothing hurt too much—or at all, he realized, rising slowly to his feet.
Hearing a groan, he turned and saw Larn crouched over Zanil, who appeared to be slowly regaining consciousness.
“Explain yourself,” Barson said hoarsely, looking around for his sword. Spotting it on the floor, he walked over to pick it up, even though it seemed like Larn had come to his senses.
Larn turned toward him. “Barson, I don’t know what happened.” His eyes were wide, his face unusually pale. “Were we attacked?”
“I was attacked.” Barson gave his friend a narrow-eyed glare. “What were you thinking? Were you insane?”
“What do you mean?” Larn looked confused now. “The last thing I remember was drinking some wine in the tavern. Did I have too much? How did we end up here in the Tower, and what happened to us?”
Barson inhaled deeply. It was as he had suspected. Somebody—and he had a very good idea who—had turned his own men against him. His insides churning with anger, Barson proceeded to explain everything to Larn, including his suspicions about mind sorcery.
“So what now?” Larn asked when Barson was done. His eyebrows were drawn into a worried frown. “If Ganir knows that we’re alive, that changes everything.”
“Not necessarily,” Barson said. “There is a Council meeting coming up tonight. Vashel figured out how to listen in on it. I don’t want to do anything rash until we know more.”
As they were walking out of the room, with Barson aiding Zanil and Larn carrying out Pugan’s body, it occurred to Barson that he should still be bleeding right now.
Someone had healed his injuries.
The question was: who?
Chapter 32: Gala
Gala stumbled into Liva’s house, pushed by Blaise. Quickly catching herself, she turned to say something, and saw Blaise collapse as a large piece of hail slammed into the side of his head.
Her heart appeared to stop beating. She was not fully cognizant of reaching for him and dragging his body into the room, but she must have—because she found herself crouched over Blaise’s unconscious form in the middle of the kitchen, surrounded by Maya, Esther, and the villagers.
He was bleeding profusely, a pool of red spreading out from the wound on his head, and Gala knew she had to do something to help him. However, her panic didn’t allow her to think clearly, her emotions chaotic and out of control. The hail battered the house with deadly force, and she could hear the women screaming as some parts of the roof started caving in. She knew she needed to calm down, to pull herself together, but all she could see was Blaise and his terrifying injury.
“Gala, I need you to focus. Do you hear me? Please, focus.” It was Liva, her voice even and soothing, penetrating the fog of anguished fear clouding Gala’s mind. Taking a deep breath, Gala tried to follow her advice, realizing that she was on the verge of losing control of her powers again—something that could be disastrous for all concerned.
“Gala, it’s all right—he’s breathing.” It was Esther speaking to her this time, and Gala felt her panic recede further. Reaching deep within herself, she called upon everything she’d learned thus far and everything Blaise had taught her, and simultaneously began working on two spells.
A minute later, the barrage of deadly hail stopped as Gala’s replacement shield went up. At the same time, Blaise’s injured head began to mend as she implemented a more targeted version of the healing spell she’d inadvertently used on the soldiers before. He still remained unconscious, but she knew he would soon be all right.
Shaking, Gala rose to her feet. She hadn’t realized that fear could be so paralyzing—that nearly losing Blaise could cloud her mind to such an extent. She never wanted him to be in danger again. She would never allow him to be in danger again.
“Gala, do you remember approximately how many people were in the other house?” Liva asked, her tone filled with anxiety now that the immediate danger to Blaise was over. “Did everyone make it to safety?”
“There were twenty-eight adults and five children,” Gala replied, instantly recalling the layout of the house she’d just left and mentally counting the people there.
“Are you sure?” Liva asked, a worried frown on her face. “Only thirty-three people there?”
Gala nodded. She was sure. “How many should there have been?”
“At least forty,” Liva said in despair. “I think there must be a family or two still out there, beyond the protection you and Blaise set up for us.”
Gala’s blood turned to ice. There were people outside the shield? If they were still alive, they wouldn’t be for much longer—unless she could get them to safety right away.
Running to the front door, she opened it again and stepped out. She could hear Blaise starting to wake up, but the last thing she wanted was to put him in danger again—or to have him prevent her from helping those people. She had to act, and she had to do it now, before it was too late.
Stepping out into the street, Gala cast a quick glance at the village. Several houses nearby were on fire from the lightning strikes, while many others were in shambles from the wind and hail. Thunder and lightning struck over and over again in an endless assault on the senses, but worst of all was something she could see in the far distance—a wide, funnel-like column connecting the ground to the sky.