The Spell Realm (The Sorcery Code #2)(69)



Panic came at him in waves. The sensory deprivation was so terrifying that his mind retreated into the darkness again, conscious thought fading again.

Upon the second awakening, Blaise felt a bit calmer. The realization of where he was—in the Spell Realm—was something for his mind to latch on to. And as Blaise slowly processed that fact, he realized that he did feel, though not in the same way as he had experienced things in the Physical Realm. It was as if the structure of his own mind was changing, acclimating to his new surroundings.

After a while, he became cognizant of shapes with colors, tastes, and smells mixed together into strange mathematical patterns. These patterns were mesmerizing in their complexity. As Blaise studied them with awe, he felt a peculiar sense of belonging, as though he was becoming a part of something bigger than himself. The sensation was soothing and frightening at the same time, because Blaise realized he could easily lose himself in this bigger whole and forget that he ever existed.

No. Focus, Blaise, Focus.

That wasn’t why he was here. Gala. He needed to think about Gala. Concentrating on her, Blaise tried to imagine what she would look like here, and to his shock, as soon as the thought came to him, so did an avalanche of sensations.

He saw, tasted, and smelled something wonderful.

It looked like an intricate web, only it was three-dimensional, a bit like branches of a tree in the winter, and it was covering all of the nearby space. The web was buzzing with activity, small flashes of lightning traveling up and down the tiny strands within the pattern. At the same time, Blaise smelled the color red and tasted the number seven. He knew these concepts didn’t have scent or taste in his world, but they did here. In a strange twist, red smelled peaceful, like chamomile flowers, and the number seven tasted sweet, like raisins.

And somehow Blaise knew what was in front of him.

“Gala,” he thought with joy, addressing the intricate design.

“Yes, this is me,” her thought came at him in response.

The feeling of relief was so strong, Blaise would’ve shook with it if he had a body. His mind pulsated with joy. He found her. He had succeeded.

There were a million things he needed to ask her, but all he could say was, “How could you do this? How could you disappear like that?” The words came across as angry, yet anger was the last emotion he was experiencing right now.

There was no response for a moment. Instead, Blaise could see the colors in the Gala pattern changing. Lightning flashed, and the chamomile color red became violet—which smelled like rosemary for some reason—and Blaise tasted thirteen, which reminded him of a peach. Overwhelmed, he experienced the wonder that was his creation. “You are beautiful even here,” he thought at her, unable to help himself.

Instead of a thought, he felt a response of a different sort. Suddenly, he was overcome by a deep sense of belonging, an intense feeling of happiness that somehow was not his own.

He was feeling Gala’s emotions, Blaise realized, and he tried to project his own feelings at her. All the love and worry had now transformed into an almost incandescent joy, and he let her feel it, opening his mind as he had never done before. She responded with a plethora of her own sensations. It was intense, but he did not want it to stop.

And then he felt the pattern that was Gala begin to join his. Slowly and methodically, they became a bigger, joint pattern. It was strange and wonderful, reminding him of the night before, when they made love for the first time.

As the merging was coming to an end, Blaise received visions of Gala. He saw her whole life, as short as it was. He saw himself through her eyes, that first time in his study. Then he became her, reading all those books in his library. He was seeing her time in the village, the trial and the fair, the wonder and horror of the coliseum. He suffered with her in the battle with the Sorcerer Guard, and felt regret at the lives she destroyed. He saw himself teach her magic, felt her battle the storm, and in one violent flash he saw their night together and the battle afterwards. He even saw the Spell Realm through Gala’s eyes and realized that she was experiencing it in a different manner. The spells, the strange being she’d encountered, even himself—Blaise saw it all. The culmination of the vision was an ecstasy unlike any other, an exquisite pleasure that was born of the mind, not the body. It seemed to last forever.

When it did end, he felt her explore his own mind the way he just did hers, and the ecstasy began again.





Chapter 52: Barson





The day after the takeover, after all the corpses had been removed from the Council Hall and the room had been thoroughly scrubbed, Barson gathered his men and the sorcerers who had been spared.

Looking at the faces in front of him, he felt jubilant. This was the moment he had dreamed of all of his life, ever since he had learned that he was a descendant of the rightful kings.

Dara and Larn stood to the right of him, holding hands. On his left were his sorcerer allies and his closest lieutenants. All present were dressed in their best clothes, and Barson himself wore decorative armor that had been passed down from times of old.

The only thing missing was the woman he had planned to have by his side at this ceremony—Augusta. Where was she? Where was the Council? The questions tormented Barson, interfering with his joy at this victory, and he knew his first order of business would be to find answers.

But first, he had to get through the ceremony.

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