by Zales, Dima
“—an error that cost the Sorcerer Guard their lives,” Augusta continued, watching the Councilors’ reaction to her words. “Because we hesitated—because we wanted to protect one of our own—we allowed evil to flourish and paid the price for our mistake.”
“The Sorcerer Guard are dead?” Moriner’s face was utterly colorless, his voice shaking, and Augusta remembered that his son Kiam was among the Guard—that he had to be one of the casualties of the slaughter.
She nodded, feeling pity for his loss. She’d heard that father and son were not on the best of terms, but it didn’t matter. Kiam had still been Moriner’s own flesh and blood. “I’m sorry,” she said softly. “I saw it with my own eyes. The creature murdered them all.” And in the stunned silence that followed, she told them all about Blaise’s creation, Ganir’s spies’ reports, and the steps she and Ganir had taken to contain the situation. The only thing she omitted was her request to Barson to kill the creature instead of bringing it in—and that she had not destroyed the notes of Lenard the Great that she’d found in Blaise’s study.
The room erupted with questions. “Is that what happened to my overseer Davish?” Kelvin exclaimed. “I had to remove him from his post because he was changing things too much—”
“How is this possible?” Dania asked, interrupting Kelvin’s diatribe. “How could such a thing have come into being?”
Ganir, who had been silent until then, stepped forward. “I believe I have some idea,” he said quietly, and everyone immediately fell silent. “You know my theory that the mind is essentially the inner workings of the brain?”
“Are you talking about the pattern-recognizing units in the brain? The ones called neurons?” Dania asked, apparently intrigued.
“Yes, that’s what I’m talking about,” Ganir confirmed. “I believe that children develop a unique network of neurons based on their experiences in the world. And I think that Blaise re-created this process artificially. He created neurons—or something that functions just like them—in the Spell Realm, and then, rather than having this mind grow up as a child would, he simulated her experiences by using Life Capture recordings.” Much to Augusta’s disgust, Ganir’s eyes were bright with excitement. He really did find the creature fascinating. “Thus he cultivated a fully functioning intelligence in a span of slightly less than a year.”
“Yes,” Augusta interjected, “an inhuman creature of unimaginable potential for evil, as unlike us as this Interpreter Stone.” And she held up her own Stone for them to see.
“You’re forgetting one thing, Augusta,” Ganir said, his eyes flashing with anger. “This inhuman creature, as you call her, had her mind shaped by human experiences and is, for all intents and purposes, very much like a human girl—”
“But that’s the horror of it, don’t you see?” Augusta said, looking at the faces surrounding her. “Blaise himself didn’t know what his creation would look like. He had no idea it would look like us. And it’s very, very far from being like a human girl. What human girl could destroy an entire army in such a brutal manner?”
“How did she do it?” Moriner asked, his voice filled with fury. “How did she manage to kill them all?”
Augusta hesitated for a moment, then walked over to a Life Capture Sphere that was sitting on the marble table. It was best if they saw the truth with their own eyes. Pricking her finger, she pressed it against the Sphere and concentrated, visualizing the horrors she had seen in the mirror. When she was done reliving the battle in her mind, she touched her still-bloody finger to the Sphere and waited for the droplet to appear.
When it was formed, she picked up the droplet and handed it to Moriner. Then she explained how the droplet could be recycled, taking vindictive pleasure in revealing Ganir’s little secret. The Council Leader didn’t say a word, but Augusta knew that he was angry; she could see it in the hard glitter of his eyes.
Taking the droplet, Moriner created one of his own by repeating Augusta’s actions with the Sphere. When he was done, his face was even paler, and his hands trembled as he handed the new droplet to the next Council member.
By the time everyone had a chance to view Augusta’s memories, the mood in the Gathering Hall was grim and somber. Blaise’s creation was no ordinary sorceress. That much was clear to all.
Capitalizing on their state of shock, Augusta stepped forward. “Blaise created that being whose destructive power you just witnessed,” she said, looking around the room. She needed to get the majority of the Council on her side now, to make sure they supported her in what she wanted to do. “Blaise created it,” she repeated, “and Ganir and I allowed our feelings for Blaise to cloud our judgment. We gave Blaise a chance to come to his senses, to undo the damage, but he seems to be under this monster’s spell. He is infatuated with his own creation, and he has lost all sense of right and wrong. We should’ve never tried to bring her in alive—”
“Well, I can see why Ganir would want to examine this creature, despite the obvious dangers,” Dania jumped in again, and Augusta frowned at her. She despised blind loyalty, and the old woman’s unflagging allegiance to Ganir was deeply irritating.
Jandison raised his hand, silencing Dania. “What’s done is done. Now the matter is in our hands, and we must come up with a solution.”
“There is only one outcome I see,” Kelvin said, his thin-lipped mouth tight with anger. Augusta imagined he wasn’t too pleased with the creature’s exploits in his territory. “We join forces and kill the thing and its creator.”
Augusta swallowed. This was exactly what she was hoping for, but the ugly starkness of those words made her chest ache. Despite the horrific results of Blaise’s actions, the idea of him dying—or even being in danger—was still as painful as ever. Be strong, she reminded herself. If she had done this from the beginning, Barson would still be alive.
In response to Kelvin’s statement, Ganir rose to his feet. “No,” he said vehemently. “We can’t do that.”
“You suggest we do nothing?” Kelvin asked acidly.
“Officially, Blaise is still a member of this Council.” Ganir’s voice was filled with barely restrained emotion. “He was never formally removed from his position. Killing him would be the same thing as killing one of us.”
Despite her inner turmoil, Augusta almost smiled at those words. The Council Leader had clearly spoken without thinking. Gina, the newest Council member who took Blaise’s place, appeared more than a little upset by his statement. An ambitious and talented sorceress, she had to be irritated to hear that her spot on the Council was ‘unofficial,’ and Augusta had a strong suspicion Gina would now be firmly on Augusta’s side.
“Ganir is right,” Jandison said, surprising Augusta. The old man rarely agreed with Ganir on anything. “If we were just talking about the fate of this creature, I would have no hesitation, but a Council member . . .”
“Why don’t we compromise?” Augusta suggested. In a strange way, she felt relieved that the discussion had taken this turn. “Let’s destroy the creature and offer Blaise the honor of the trial that is his right.” It was an alternative that she could live with: the abomination dead and Blaise judged for his actions. It wasn’t necessary for Blaise to die if the Council chose to grant him mercy—as long as he could be prevented from making another monster.
Kelvin stood up from his throne. “I see no need for that kind of compromise. Blaise is clearly guilty—”
“And we shall let the trial determine that,” Augusta said firmly. She was glad the debate was focusing on Blaise’s fate. Nobody seemed inclined to dispute the fact that the creature needed to die—not after the horrors they saw in Augusta’s Life Capture droplet.
As though in response to her thoughts, Ganir stepped forward. “We need to discuss this further. We are talking about a being that has thoughts and feelings. She has shown empathy on numerous occasions—”
“She destroyed Davish, one of my most loyal servants,” Kelvin interrupted furiously. “She made him useles
s as an overseer! Don’t you see? This thing can manipulate our minds. She’s dangerous.”
Augusta let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. Though she didn’t have much sympathy for Kelvin’s loss of his notoriously inhumane overseer, the fact that Blaise’s creation could do something like this was especially frightening. And Augusta wasn’t the only one who thought so; she could practically smell the fear rising in the room. Kelvin’s words drove home the terrible power that the creature held—the power of the ultimate rape. It could change someone’s mind to fit whatever it wished. If it were so inclined, it could replace the entire Council with puppets dancing to its tune.
“If there is any doubt about our course of action, then we need to vote on this,” Jandison said, looking around the room. “That’s the only way to settle this matter.”
“Fine,” Kelvin snapped. “Then let’s do it. Let’s vote right now whether we should destroy the creature and put Blaise on trial.”
“No,” Ganir said, his tone utterly uncompromising. “This is too serious for us to act on a whim. The vote will take place in a few days, when we’ve all had a chance to digest this information.”
Nobody voiced an objection to that, and Augusta remained silent too. Ganir was still the Leader, and as such, had the final say when it came to procedural matters. Besides, ultimately it didn’t matter. If the vote took place today, people might side with Augusta out of fear, but a few days’ delay wasn’t the end of the world.
She would just have to work harder to ensure that the majority of the Council voted the right way.
Chapter 4: Barson
“Are you going to bury him with the rest?” Larn asked somberly, watching as Barson lifted Kiam’s lifeless body onto his horse.
“We have no choice,” Barson said harshly, wiping the rain off his face with the back of his arm. “We can’t bring him all the way back to Turingrad.”
Larn nodded. “Then I guess the woods are as good of a place as any.” His face was drawn tight with grief and anger. Barson knew how his friend felt because an identical mixture of rage and pain gnawed at his own insides.
Nearly a third of his men were dead. Their bodies lay strewn all over the muddy field, stomachs cut open and limbs missing. In all his years as a soldier, Barson had never lost so many of his own. The rebellions he’d had to suppress had been nothing compared to this.
It made him wonder if he was ready for what was to come. Many more might die once he put his plan in motion. Good men. Loyal men. Was he prepared for that? Taking a deep breath, Barson looked around the bloody field. Yes, he decided, he was. Ambition required sacrifice. There was no other way to greatness.
This senseless slaughter, however, was something else. Ganir had done this; he’d pitted them against the girl, thinking he was getting rid of at least one problem. Barson chuckled humorlessly at that. The old man didn’t realize that he had actually created a problem. This young sorceress would be the most deadly enemy the Council had ever faced.
“This rain,” Larn said, interrupting Barson’s thoughts. “It’s unbelievable. It’s like the sky is weeping for the fallen. I think she did it—this storm, I mean.”
Barson nodded absentmindedly. “She did,” he said softly, looking up at the sky before turning his attention back to Larn. “She did all this and more.”
“So what now?” Larn asked, looking at him. “Do we go back and tell them about our ignominious defeat?”
“No.” Barson shook his head. “We don’t. As far as they’re concerned, we’re dead—and we will stay dead.”
Larn raised his eyebrows. “Oh?”
“What do you think the Council will do now?” Barson said, gazing at his friend. “Do you think they will just let it slide? This girl—this sorceress—destroyed their Guard. Do you really think they will allow her to live?”
Larn looked taken aback for a moment. “No,” he said slowly, mulling it over, “they won’t. They’ll go after her.”
Barson smiled. “Exactly. They will go after her, and they will attempt to destroy her.”
Larn’s eyes widened. “You’re right. And when they do, the Tower will be essentially unprotected.”
Barson’s smile broadened. “I knew there was a reason I keep you around. Yes, my friend, you’re absolutely right. This is it. This is our chance. We will stay dead, and when the moment is right, we will strike—and a new era in the history of Koldun will begin.”
* * *
“Where did you get these clothes?” Larn asked, watching as Barson prepared a horse for his journey.
“From one of the local merchants,” Barson replied, loading a bag filled with bread and cured meat onto the horse. The journey back to Turingrad was a long one, and he would need provisions. The clothing he had chosen—a peasant’s rough, homespun shirt and breeches—was nothing like his usual armor, and he hoped it would enable him to pass through the territories unnoticed. His men would travel back too, but not all at once.
“Well, we probably won’t look much better,” Larn said, chuckling. “I hope we don’t get mistaken for some dirty rebels.”
“You won’t. Not if you travel in small groups or as individuals,” Barson said. “Remember, speed is of essence, but so is secrecy.”
“Of course,” Larn said hastily. “We will look like peasants and nothing more.”
“Good.” Barson mounted his horse with an easy, practiced movement. “I will get a message to you through Dara. I’m going to go see her first, and then I’ll talk to some of our sorcerer allies. I have a feeling our time is near. As soon as we know the Council’s plans, we’ll finalize our own.”
Chapter 5: Gala
They landed near the most beautiful place Gala had seen in the Physical Realm thus far. It was a lake surrounded by a forest, in the slopes of one of the greener mountains. It looked incredibly calm and peaceful, the trees reflecting in the clear waters of the lake. At the sight of it, Gala could feel some of the tightness in her chest beginning to ease. For the first time since the battle, she felt like she was able to breathe again.
As soon as their chaise touched the ground, the lions jumped out and quickly dispersed. “I hope that’s the last we see of them,” Esther muttered.
Gala smiled, amused by the old woman’s dislike of the magnificent beasts. Being here, in the midst of this greenery, was making her feel immeasurably better. The water sparkled in the sunlight, luring her, and suddenly Gala knew what she wanted to do. “I am going swimming,” she declared, and began to run toward the water, taking off her clothes on the way. She’d read about swimming and was determined to experience it herself.
Behind her she could hear the two women muttering something about modesty. By now Gala knew that what she was doing was not socially acceptable, but in this particular moment she couldn’t bring herself to care. She wanted to dive in and feel the water on her skin, to wash away the memories of blood and death. And somewhere on the back of her mind was the knowledge that Blaise was there, that he would see her naked again—an idea that Gala found rather intriguing.
Entering the lake at a run, she quickly found herself immersed up to her neck, and she began to move her arms and legs, propelling herself through the water. It felt natural to do this, like using her feet to walk. The water was refreshingly cold on her skin, and the sensation of swimming reminded her of a dream she’d had recently. It had been of a time when she was just a consciousness in the Spell Realm. Back then she’d felt similarly weightless, unencumbered by her body.
She had been swimming for a couple of minutes when she heard a splash near the shore. Turning, she saw Blaise swimming toward her with strong, sure strokes.
When he was a couple of feet away, he stopped, floating in place. “I am so glad Esther suggested we go here,” he said quietly. His eyes were glittering, and despite the coolness of the water, there was color on his cheekbones.
“Me too,” Gala murmured, smiling at him. She could see his muscular chest and shoulders a
bove the water, bare and glistening with droplets of moisture, and her breathing quickened at the sight.
Keeping her eyes trained on his face, she slowly closed the distance between them. When she was next to him, she reached out and placed her hands on his shoulders, enjoying the cool, slick feel of his skin under her fingertips. His eyes darkened in response, his pupils dilating, and he pressed his palm to the small of her back, pulling her closer.
Gala felt her own skin heating up. The feeling she was experiencing now was akin to the tingling, pleasant sensation she’d felt previously at his touch, only magnified a hundredfold. Her heart pounded furiously in her chest, and she felt like she was on the verge of losing control, of casting some random magic again. She tried to steady her emotions, but it was futile. Something about the beautiful lake, the fresh mountain air, and the proximity of their naked bodies intensified her feelings. As though sensing her reaction, Blaise began to lean in toward her, his breathing accelerating as well.
Suddenly, there was a scream from the shore. Startled, Blaise turned, releasing Gala. “Stay here,” he ordered curtly, and dove under the water, heading quickly for the shore.
Gala ignored his instruction and began swimming back as well. As she got closer, she could see that Esther and Maya were not alone on the shore anymore. Instead, they were surrounded by a group of strangers. Gala counted twelve people—eleven men of various ages and one young woman dressed in boy’s clothes. They were holding bows and arrows aimed at Maya and Esther.
Gala’s heart started racing. Had the soldiers found them here, or was this some new threat?
She started swimming as fast as she could, passing Blaise on her way.
As she reached the shore, she could hear growling. One of the lions had come out of the forest, apparently attracted by the women’s screams. Standing near the trees, he looked like he was about to pounce on the intruders.