The Spell Realm (The Sorcery Code #2)(64)
Going down to his storage room, he carefully selected a few droplets. The first was a Life Capture of what Blaise had felt during the vote on the day Louie had been sentenced. Let her experience what it’s like to learn that your brother is condemned to death. The next one was of Blaise’s conversation with Augusta about the vote, when he learned that she had voted in favor of his brother’s punishment. Let her experience the betrayal of the woman you love.
Then, reaching for the bottle that had the skull-and-bones label, Blaise paused, wondering if this one would be too cruel of a punishment. Then Gala’s words flashed across his mind again, and his resolve solidified. Let Augusta experience Louie’s death through his own eyes. Let her see the consequences of her actions.
Grimly decided, Blaise walked back to his study to write the appropriate spell. When it was done, he loaded the cards into his Stone and went downstairs to see if it had worked.
The spell was simple, yet beautifully complex. The fact that the droplets could be reused was what made it possible. It was a loop—a loop of the Life Captures he’d chosen, playing over and over in Augusta’s mind.
Standing over her, he watched it happen.
A needle flew up to Augusta’s finger first. The Life Capture Sphere then floated next to the little bit of blood, beginning the recording process. After that, the first Life Capture droplet Blaise had chosen flew into Augusta’s mouth.
He didn’t watch the rest—he knew that after a time, a new droplet would be formed in the Stone and join the queue that was waiting its turn to be consumed by Augusta. This would go on and on, until either the paralysis spell or the looping spell lost its potency. Which would be a very long time, if Blaise had done his job properly. With each subsequent recording, Augusta would experience a bit of her own reaction as well. It would be an endless loop of despair and regret—or so Blaise hoped, at least.
“Maybe you will learn something from this,” he told her, even though he knew Augusta couldn’t hear him right now. Steeling his heart against any hint of weakness or remorse, Blaise walked back to his study.
He couldn’t afford to think about Augusta anymore. He needed to figure out how he could reunite with Gala.
*
Blaise spent the next few hours reviewing everything related to the Spell Realm.
He wished he could simply bring Gala back, but he couldn’t think of a way to do it. During her creation, the spells to make her mind and to have her manifest in the Physical Realm had been intertwined. As far as he knew, there was no way to simply reach into the Spell Realm and bring her back here. It would require a thorough understanding of the Spell Realm, and the only person who might even attempt something of that complexity would be Gala herself.
However, he had once succeeded in sending an object to the Spell Realm, Blaise realized, thinking of the needle that had come back as that strange sword. It was a crazy idea, but it was the only way he could think of to reach Gala. The thought of her alone out there was unbearable to him.
Reworking and scaling up the needle spell, Blaise made himself the target, trying to perfect the spell along the way to the best of his ability. When he was done, he still wasn’t certain of the result. It would take months of careful testing and experimentation to ensure the spell’s safety, but he didn’t have the luxury of time.
Mentally bracing himself, Blaise loaded the cards into the Interpreter Stone and waited to see the results.
Chapter 48: Barson
His clothes soaked through with blood, Barson quietly opened the door to the room where two of his next targets were sleeping. Dara slipped in behind him, her steps whisper-silent. She was pale with fatigue, but the look on her face was that of grim determination.
Two sorcerer apprentices were sharing this room. The one whose bed was closest to the door was Jundi—a name that was on Barson’s list. Though the room was quite dark, Barson could make out her shape in the dim moonlight streaming in from the window. Gripping his dagger, Barson stepped closer to the sleeping woman, and in one smooth motion slit her throat. There was a quiet gurgle, followed by the sharp, metallic scent of blood and death.
Jundi’s roommate continued sleeping, blissfully unaware. It was Hanta—a young sorceress whose name was not on his list.
Dara approached Hanta’s bed and touched the woman’s shoulder. “Wake up,” she said gently, loading a spell into her Stone. A second later, the room was illuminated by a pale yellow light.
The girl opened her eyes, a look of shock forming on her face. Gasping, she jackknifed to a sitting position, holding up the blanket protectively in front of herself. As her eyes fell on her dead roommate, the look of shock turned to horror.
“You will not make any noise or try to do anything stupid,” Barson said evenly, keeping his bloody dagger visible.
The sorceress stared at him, her body starting to tremble under the blanket. “Captain? W-what’s going on? W-why are you doing this? I thought you were dead—”
“Yes, yes, I’ve heard that a lot today,” Barson said impatiently. “Now listen to me carefully, Hanta. I’m not here to answer your questions. You have two options: you can join Jundi today—or you can join me.”
“Join you?” The woman looked like she was going into shock, her face utterly bloodless. “What do you mean? You’re our Guard—”