The Sorcery Code by Dima Zales and Anna Zaires

Chapter 32: Blaise

Then he waited.

All seemed quiet. To check if the mental attack worked, Blaise prepared another spell and directed it at the entryway wall, making it as transparent as glass.

Now Blaise could see outside, and he saw Ganir standing there, looking directly at Blaise through the now-see-through wall. It was obvious the old man was unaffected by the spell, but he appeared to be alone. His dark brown chaise stood next to him.

Despite his disappointment, Blaise felt a wave of relief. It didn’t seem like this was a Council ambush; they wouldn’t have sent the Council Leader just by himself.

“You insult me if you think your spells had any chance of success,” Ganir said calmly, his voice still penetrating the walls of the house with ease. In his hands was an Interpreter Stone. He could’ve struck at

Blaise with a deadly spell of his own at any time, but he had apparently chosen not to.

Some of his anger fading, Blaise opened the door. “What do you want, Ganir?” he asked wearily, beginning to tire of this confrontation.

“I spoke to Augusta,” Ganir said, looking at him. “The Council does not know of your creation.”

“Why not?” Blaise was genuinely surprised.

“Because I convinced her not to tell them for now. There is still a window of opportunity to untangle this mess. Augusta will go to them eventually. I made sure she did not do so yet, but she is scared of what you have done, scared beyond reason.”

Blaise felt like he could breathe again. The Council didn’t know about Gala. It was only Ganir and Augusta—which was bad enough, but not nearly the disaster it would’ve been if the entire Council got involved. Still, that didn’t mean he had any intention of being civil to Ganir.

“How exactly are you planning to untangle this mess?” he asked, not bothering to keep the bitterness out of his voice. “The same way you did with Louie?”

He could see that his words stung. Ganir flinched, his hand instinctively reaching for the pouch hanging at his waist before dropping to his side. Blaise made a mental note of that pouch—it was likely where the old sorcerer kept his spell cards. Letting the door frame block Ganir’s line of sight, he surreptitiously scribbled a quick spell on one of his own cards and prepared to use it at an opportune moment.

In the meantime, Ganir took a step forward. “Blaise,” he said softly, “your brother was quite open about his crime. Even I could not hide what he had done from the Council. I tried my best to guide the Council toward a lenient resolution, but they would not listen—and your brother’s stubbornness and refusal to even pretend at remorse did not help matters.”

Blaise stared at Ganir, remembering the passionate speech Louie had made in front of the Council about the injustices in their society—a speech that had probably sealed his fate. Blaise had agreed with every word his brother had spoken, but even he had thought it unwise to antagonize the other sorcerers so openly. Ultimately, though, the vote was what mattered—and Ganir had voted in favor of Louie’s execution.

“Don’t lie to me,” Blaise said harshly. “You know as well as I do that you’re no different from them, that you all voted the same way. And you expect me to believe that you tried to speak on Louie’s behalf?”

Ganir looked stunned. “What? I voted against Louie’s death. How could you think otherwise?”

Blaise let out a short, hard laugh. “Oh, is that right? You think you can hide behind the fact that all votes are anonymous and nobody knows the exact count? Well, I learned the truth—I know the breakdown of the voting results. There was only one vote against Louie’s death, and it was my own. All of you—you, Augusta, every single person on that Council—voted for my brother’s execution.”