by Jasmine Walt
Blaise felt a strong urge to hit something—preferably himself, for letting Gala go off on her own. He should’ve never left her alone at the village, no matter how much she wanted to see the world as an ordinary person. Now she was there unprotected, with only two old women for company.
He needed to be there with her.
Casting a glance around the study, Blaise saw that his Interpreter Stone had survived Augusta’s fire. Picking up the still-warm rock, he rushed downstairs to his archive room, where he kept most of his pre-written spell cards. It was lucky that Augusta had only destroyed his most recent work and the bulk of what he needed was still available.
Taking as many potentially useful spell components as he could, Blaise left the house and got on his chaise. His mind was filled with one thought: getting to Gala before it was too late. Even now Augusta could be talking to the Council, convincing them of the ridiculous idea that Gala was dangerous, and there was no time to waste.
He was flying for a half hour when he noticed something strange behind him. In the far distance, there was a small dot on the horizon—almost like a bird, except it was too large to be one. Blaise cursed under his breath. Was he being followed?
There was only one way to tell. Taking out a few spell cards, he prepared an eyesight-enhancing spell and fed the cards into the Interpreter Stone. When his vision cleared, everything was sharper; it was as though he was an eagle, able to spot even a tiny insect crawling on the ground far away. Turning his head, Blaise peered into the distance.
What he saw made his blood run cold.
There was another chaise flying behind him—a sure sign that he was being pursued by another sorcerer, since no one else could fly these things. However, it wasn’t Augusta, as he’d initially suspected. This particular chaise was grey, and the man sitting in it was someone Blaise didn’t recognize, which meant he couldn’t have been a sorcerer of note. Not that the man’s aptitude for sorcery mattered in this case; if he could fly, then he could also likely handle a Contact spell—and the Council might even now be aware of where Blaise was heading.
Looking away, Blaise stared straight ahead, his mind furiously searching for a solution. He wanted to protect Gala, not lead the Council straight to her. He couldn’t let them follow him to the village—which meant he had to make them think this trip was about something else.
Subtly adjusting his flight path, Blaise directed his chaise toward a famous carpentry shop located on the outskirts of Turingrad. Since a lot of his furniture got destroyed, a new desk and some other items might actually be useful. And if Augusta had told the Council about her fire spell, then ordering new furnishings should hopefully seem like a normal thing for Blaise to do.
Getting home after the carpentry store, Blaise began to pace, trying to think of what to do next. In a way, it was good that Gala was away from here; the first place the Council would look for her would be his house. Unfortunately, the second place would be the villages in his territory—exactly where she was right now.
The crazy idea of teleporting himself to the village came to mind, but he immediately dismissed it. Writing a spell as complex as that would take a long time, and would be extremely dangerous. If he miscalculated even a tiny bit, he could easily end up materializing in the ground or inside a tree—and then Gala would be left without anyone to protect her.
No, there had to be something else he could do.
To start off, Blaise decided, he needed to warn her and her guardians of the potential danger. They had to leave the village and go some place where the Council would not think to look for them, while he figured out a way to join them there.
Going to the archive room, he pulled out his cards and began working on a Contact spell—a way to send a mental message to someone far away. It was a fairly complicated spell, one that would have been a pain to do verbally. Now, however, with written spell-casting, it should only take him a few minutes to pen a message and the details of the person he wanted to contact.
Sitting down at an old desk, he composed a message to Esther:
“Esther, do not be alarmed. This is Blaise and I am using the Contact spell I told you about once. To prove my identity, as we agreed on that occasion, I am mentioning the time you caught me spying on my father. Now listen to me carefully. I have reason to fear for Gala’s safety. She is in danger from the Council, and I need your help. Please take her to Kelvin’s territory. I know about his reputation, but that’s precisely why Neumanngrad might be the last place they would expect her to be. Please use whatever money you need—I will pay for everything. Stay at the inn on the southwest side of Neumanngrad when you get there, and try to be as inconspicuous as possible. I will hopefully join you soon.”
The next thing he did was compose a message to Gala. He wasn’t sure if the Contact spell would work with her, but he still intended to try. His message to her was shorter:
“Gala, this is Blaise. I am thinking of you. Please listen to Esther when she asks you to go to a different area and try to be discreet.
Yours, Blaise.”
Thus happy with both notes, Blaise fed the cards into the Interpreter Stone. Combining spells like this was efficient, since some of the code for both messages would be shared.
Getting up, he was about to leave the room when he felt something unusual—something he hadn’t experienced in two years.
It was the mildly invasive sensation of another sorcerer sending him a Contact spell.
Surprised, Blaise nonetheless relaxed and let the message come to him, curious to learn who could be reaching out to him.
To his shock, it was Gala.
“Blaise, it’s great to hear from you.” Like all Contact spells, her words came in the form of a voice in his head—a voice that was really his inner voice, but that somehow took on a different tone. “I can’t believe you are speaking in my mind. I miss you, and I hope to see you soon. I have so much I want to talk to you about.
Yours, Gala.”
Blaise listened to her message with awe. How had she managed to do this? When he saw her last, her magical abilities had been virtually nonexistent, and now she was able to do a complex bit of sorcery in less time than it would take to write a basic spell. It could only mean one thing: she was starting to do magic directly, as he’d hoped she would be able to do.
Excited, he sat down to compose a response to Gala. It took him several minutes to prepare the spell. He wrote:
“Gala, I’m so excited you’ve mastered this form of communication. I miss you. How is your time in the village so far? Did Esther explain to you about the trip to Neumanngrad?”
There was no response back. Disappointed, Blaise waited several minutes before admitting to himself that none was coming.
Getting up, he decided to occupy himself by putting his house to rights while he figured out what to do next.
He would not let Augusta and the Council wreck his life again, not if he could help it.
28
Gala
Gala was almost back at Esther and Maya’s house when she heard a strange voice in her head. It was as though she was speaking to herself in some strange way. As she listened, however, she realized it was a message from Blaise.
After she heard everything, she grinned in excitement. Blaise wanted her to travel and see more of the world. And the best part was that he was thinking of her! Filled with delight, Gala felt an overwhelming urge to talk to him, to reach out to him in the same way he had just contacted her. And suddenly, she felt herself responding, even though she didn’t understand how she was doing it.
“Blaise, it is great to hear from you,” she began, her excitement spilling out into the mental message.
To her disappointment, he didn’t respond right away. But she noticed Esther staring at her intently. “Did he get in touch with you too?” the older woman asked.
“If you mean Blaise, then yes,” Gala said, smiling.
“Good,” Esther said. “Then I hopefully don’t need to convince
you that we must go.”
“Oh, you don’t have to convince me,” Gala told her earnestly. “I would love to see more of the world.”
And by the time Esther explained to them where they were going, Blaise came back to Gala with his response.
Smiling, she began to think of the answers to his questions, but whatever it was that helped her do this before was no longer there. She couldn’t seem to tap into the part of her mind that made mental communication so easy and effortless before. After several fruitless attempts, Gala gave up in frustration.
“Come, help us pack, child,” Esther said, leading Gala into the house. “We need to get going right away.”
The trip to Kelvin’s territory took a couple of days, with Gala enjoying every moment of their travels—unlike Esther and Maya, who grumbled about how uncomfortable it was to be stuck on a buggy for such a long time. The two women complained about roadside food (which Gala loved), the scenery (which Gala found most fascinating), the chill at night (which Gala found refreshing), and the heat of the sun during the day (which Gala found pleasant on her skin). Most of all, however, they complained about Gala’s boundless energy and enthusiasm for the simplest things—something they could not even begin to understand, much less relate to.
Unlike her first eventful day at the village, the trip passed without any further incidents. Maya and Esther did their best to keep Gala out of sight of the passersby, and Gala did her best to occupy herself with observing the world around her—and with surreptitious attempts to do magic.
To her great disappointment, she couldn’t replicate anything she’d done before. She couldn’t even get in touch with Blaise. He had contacted her a couple more times, saying how much he missed her, but she had been unable to respond—a form of muteness she found extremely unpleasant. The lack of control over her magical abilities drove her crazy, but there was nothing she could do about it now. She was hoping, however, that her creator would ultimately be able to teach her how to tap into that hidden part of herself. When she saw Blaise again, she was not about to let him out of her sight until she learned to do sorcery at will.
As they left Blaise’s territory and entered Kelvin’s, Gala began to notice a number of differences between the villages and towns belonging to the two sorcerers. The houses they passed now were smaller and shabbier, with signs of neglect everywhere, and the people were leaner and less friendly. Even the plants and animals seemed weaker and more weathered somehow.
When they rode by a large open field with sad-looking remnants of wheat, Gala asked Esther about the differences in their surroundings.
“Master Blaise has enhanced our crops,” Esther explained, “so that we wouldn’t suffer as much in this drought. He’s a great sorcerer, and he cares about helping his people—unlike Kelvin, who doesn’t give a rat’s ass.” That last bit was added in a tone of obvious disgust.
Gala frowned in confusion. “Why don’t all sorcerers do this for their people? Enhance their crops, I mean?”
Esther snorted.“Why not, indeed.”
“They just don’t care enough,” Maya said bitterly. “They’re so out of touch with their people, they might not even understand the concept of hunger. They probably think we can just subsist on spells and air, the way they do.”
“Also,” Esther said, “I don’t know much about sorcery, but I think Master Blaise came up with some very complicated spells to do this for us. I don’t know if every sorcerer could replicate them, even if they were inclined to try.”
“Couldn’t Blaise teach them?” Gala asked.
“He probably could, if those fools would listen to him.” Esther’s nostrils flared with anger. “But they’ve tarred him with the same brush as his brother, and he’s already on thin ice in the Tower. Enhancing crops could be potentially interpreted as giving magic to the people, and that’s the last thing the Council wants.”
“But that’s so unfair.” Gala looked at Esther and Maya in dismay. “People are hungry. They can die from that, right?”
Maya gave her a strange look. “Yes, people can definitely die from hunger—which is something all sorcerers need to realize.”
Gala blinked, taken aback. Was Maya lumping her in with the other sorcerers? It didn’t sound like she meant the word as a compliment, either.
Esther glared at Maya. “Stop it. You know the girl cares—she’s just been sheltered, that’s all.”
“More like born yesterday,” Maya muttered, and Esther purposefully stepped on her foot, eliciting an annoyed grunt from the other woman.
“In any case, child,” Esther said, addressing Gala this time, “Blaise has a plan when it comes to getting his crops to the other territories. He’s letting us trade the seeds in exchange for other necessities. He knows these seeds will take and will provide others with good crops just like our own, since the improvements he made are hereditary.”
Leaving the dying wheat field behind them, they finally reached the inn where Blaise told them to stay. Before they went in, Maya made Gala cover her head with a thick woolen shawl. “So we don’t get attacked by some amorous ruffians at night,” she explained. “The fewer people who know a pretty girl is staying here, the safer it’ll be for us.”
The brown inn building was small and rundown, just like the houses they’d passed on the way. It was difficult to believe it could house more than a dozen travelers. Their room upstairs was dirty, cramped, hot, and disgusting—at least according to Maya. According to Esther, they were also being robbed blind.
Gala didn’t care; she was just excited to be some place new. When they went downstairs for dinner, she asked the innkeeper about the local attractions, being careful to keep the shawl wrapped around her head.
“Oh, you’re lucky,” the burly man told her. “Later this week, we have games at the Coliseum. You’ve heard of our Coliseum, right?”
Gala nodded, not wanting to seem ignorant. In the last couple of days, she’d learned it was best not to ask strangers any questions that could be posed to Maya and Esther instead.
He gave a satisfied grunt. “That’s what I thought. If you want to do something today, the market should still be open.” His eyes went to Maya’s large bosom, and he added, “Be sure to keep your money in hard-to-reach places. Lots of thieves around these days.”
“Thanks,” Maya said caustically, turning away from the innkeeper’s roving gaze. Esther huffed in disdain, shooting him a deadly glare before grabbing Gala’s arm and towing her away.
As soon as they were out of the innkeeper’s earshot, Esther turned to her and said firmly, “No.”
“No way,” Maya added, crossing her arms in front of her chest.
Gala stared at them in confusion. “But I didn’t ask the question yet—”
“Can we go to the Coliseum?” Esther said in a higher-pitched voice, mimicking Gala’s typically enthusiastic tones.
“Yes, can we, please?” Maya mocked, her imitation attempt even better than Esther’s.
Gala burst out laughing. She knew she should probably take offense, but she found the whole thing funny instead. The older women were watching her with stoic expressions on their faces, and she finally managed to stop laughing long enough to say, “Why don’t we talk about it tomorrow?”
“The answer is going to be the same tomorrow,” Esther said, giving Gala a narrow-eyed look.
Gala grinned at her, barely able to contain her excitement at the thought of the upcoming event. “Don’t worry about it, Esther—we’ll just wait and see. For now, let’s go to the market.”
And without waiting for their response, she walked out of the inn, going up the road to where she saw a cluster of buildings that typically signified a town center.
29
Blaise
Once his house was restored, Blaise found himself at loose ends, alternating between being furious with Augusta and worrying about Gala. By now, the Council undoubtedly knew about Gala, and they were probably taking measures to find her. Hopefully, Kelvin�
��s territory would be the last place they would look—assuming Gala did as he asked and kept a low profile.
Still, this was not a sustainable situation. Blaise had to do something to protect her in a more permanent way, and he had to do it soon, before those scared fools mobilized fully. The fact that Gala was not answering his Contact messages worried him a bit, although he guessed that she was not fully in control of her magical abilities yet—something he found mildly reassuring, since it minimized her chances of exposing herself to the world. Nonetheless, he missed her with an intensity he found deeply unsettling. It was as if a bright light had left his life when he dropped her off at the village.
A persistent idea kept nagging at the back of his mind—that of mastering the route to the Spell Realm. It was possible he was obsessing about it as a way to keep his thoughts occupied, he admitted to himself. In a way, that’s what he had done after Louie’s death: he’d focused on his work—on creating the intelligent object that turned out to be Gala—in order to keep himself busy. At the same time, however, he suspected that understanding the Spell Realm better could lead to unimaginable advances in sorcery, potentially enabling him to become powerful enough to protect Gala from the entire Council.
Tired of thinking about it, he began planning. Although Augusta had burned many of his notes, Blaise didn’t feel particularly discouraged. He had frequently used Life Captures over the past year to record many of his particularly useful experiments, and he still had a lot of those droplets. More importantly, however, it seemed as if his mind had been working on the problem of getting to the Spell Realm ever since Gala had first described it to him, and he had some ideas he wanted to try out.
It was time for action.
He decided to start with a small, inanimate object. If he succeeded in sending that to the Spell Realm and having it come back, it would be an important step toward sending an actual person there.