CHAPTER FOUR
※ BLAISE ※
Pulled to him. She had been pulled to him.
It must’ve been that last spell he performed that brought Gala to his study, Blaise realized. He had been trying to do a physical manifestation of the magical object, and instead he’d ended up bringing Gala here, to the Physical Realm.
She was looking at him with her large blue eyes, studying him with that odd mixture of childlike curiosity and sharp intelligence. Blaise wondered what she was thinking. Did she have the same emotions as a regular human being? Did she even understand the concept of emotions? Her reactions seemed to indicate that she did. She had smiled in response to his smile, so, at the very least, she knew facial expressions.
“I want to see it,” she said suddenly, leaning forward. “Blaise, I want to experience more of this world. I want to learn about this place. Can you show it to me, please?”
“Of course,” Blaise said, getting up. He had a million more questions for her, but she was probably even more eager for knowledge than he was. “Let me start by showing you my house.”
He began the tour upstairs, where his study and the bedrooms were located. Gala trailed in his wake, listening attentively as he explained the purpose of each room. Everything seemed to fascinate her, from the closet filled with Augusta’s dresses to the glazed windows in Blaise’s bedroom.
Approaching one particularly large window, she climbed onto the windowsill and stared outside, pressing her nose against the glass. Blaise couldn’t help smiling at that, charmed by the picture she presented.
“What is out there?” she asked, turning her head to look at him. “I want to go down there.”
“It’s my gardens,” Blaise explained, coming closer to help her climb down from the windowsill. “We can go there next.”
Reaching up, he took her hand and carefully guided her down. Her hand was small and warm within his grasp, and Blaise again marveled at the striking beauty of his creation . . . and at the strength of his own reaction to her. He hadn’t been this attracted to a woman in a long time, not since Augusta—
No, don’t think about her, he told himself, feeling the familiar ache in his chest. The fact that his former fiancée still occupied his thoughts to such extent made him furious. After the way she had betrayed him, he had done his best to erase her from memory, but it was not that easy.
He had known Augusta for over a decade, having met her in the Academy when they were both lowly acolytes. He’d always thought she was beautiful, with her dark, sultry looks, but it wasn’t until they began working together on the Interpreter Stone that he found himself falling for her. Young and ambitious, they had seemed like the perfect match, even if they didn’t always see eye-to-eye on certain matters. For years, their passion—both for their work and for each other—had been enough to bridge their differences, and it wasn’t until Louie’s trial that Blaise had found out just how deep the divide between them truly was.
“Here, come with me,” he said, forcing himself to release Gala’s hand. “Let’s go downstairs.”
They walked down the stairs and out through the long hallway. Gala kept touching everything along the way, running her fingers over each new surface she encountered.
Finally, they were outside.
“These are my gardens,” Blaise said, pointing at the wide green expanse in front of them. “They are a little overgrown at this point—”
“They are beautiful,” Gala said slowly, turning in a circle. The look on her face was almost rapturous. “Oh, your Physical Realm is so beautiful, Blaise . . .”
“Yes,” Blaise murmured, mesmerized by her. “You’re right, it is.” Blinking, he forced himself to look away, to stare at something other than her gorgeous features.
She laughed joyously, drawing his gaze back to her, and he saw that she was reaching for a bright-colored butterfly sitting on a white flower. She did feel emotions, he realized, seeing her face glowing with happiness and excitement.
He tried to view the familiar surroundings as Gala must be seeing them, and he had to admit that the gardens had a certain wild beauty to them. His mother had been excellent with plants, judiciously using spells to promote the growth of flowers and fruit trees, and Blaise could still see traces of her magic everywhere.
“Would you like to see something interesting?” he asked impulsively, wanting to see more of that radiant joy on Gala’s face.
“Yes,” she said immediately. “Please.”
“Then watch,” Blaise said, and began a simple verbal spell. Holding out his hand, he concentrated on manipulating the particles of light, directing them to gather above his upturned palm. Each word, each sentence that he spoke, was part of the intricate code that enabled him to do sorcery. When he was satisfied that the logic and instructions of the spell were correct, he used the Interpreter Spell—a complex litany that every verbal spell required at the end—to transmit everything to the Spell Realm. And then he waited.
A few seconds later, the air above his outstretched palm began to shimmer, and a bright, shiny shape began to take place. Before long, there was a rose made entirely of light hovering a couple of inches above his hand.
“It’s so beautiful,” Gala breathed, watching his little demonstration with a look of awe on her perfect face. Reaching out, she touched the rose, her fingers passing right through the cluster of light.
Blaise grinned, glad that he had been able to impress her with something so simple. Given her origins, she would likely be able to do the same and more.
Much, much more, he thought, trying to imagine how powerful someone born in the Spell Realm could be. It was a little too soon to start exploring Gala’s abilities, but Blaise had a feeling they would be unlike anything the world had ever seen.
* * *
After Gala got her fill of the gardens, Blaise took her back inside the house.
“I want to learn more,” she said when they entered the hallway. “Blaise, I want to learn everything. Can you help me?”
He considered her request. He could give her more Life Captures and let her experience the world that way, or he could try introducing her to books. There was a possibility she might understand written language, as well as the spoken one, since some of the Life Captures he’d sent to the Spell Realm—the Life Captures that helped build her existing knowledge base—were from reading teachers.
He decided to go with the second option for now, to let her learn the old-fashioned way at first. As interesting as it was to immerse oneself into other people’s lives, there was still no substitute for the structure of a good book. “Why don’t we head to my library?” he suggested. “I want to see if you’re able to read.”
Gala nodded eagerly, and he led her into the musty room that housed his books. Interspersed with the heavy old tomes, he could see some of Augusta’s books, including a couple of romances his former lover had enjoyed in her spare time. “Here,” he said, picking up one of them and handing it to Gala, “try reading this.”
What she did next seemed very odd to him. She slowly looked over the first page. Then she quickly glanced at the next. And then she started flipping pages with increasing speed, until she was turning them so fast it looked like she was just riffling through the book.
When she was done, Blaise stared at her in astonishment. “Did you just read and understand that whole book?”
“Yes.”
Unable to believe his ears, Blaise took the book from her and opened it to a random page, glancing down to quickly skim a couple of paragraphs. “What was the name of the main hero?”
“Ludvig.”
“And what happened when he told his wife about Lura?”
“Jurila screamed, lashing out at her husband with her riding crop. Her dark eyes flashed with fire and fury, and her beautiful features were distorted by anger. Ludvig tried to calm her, fearing what she could do—”
“Wait a minute,” Blaise said incredulously, listening to her recite the paragraph he’d just read. “Did you just memorize the whole book?”
Gala shrugged. “I think so. It was interesting, but I would like more. Much more.”
Shaking his head in amazement, Blaise reached for another book, this one a thick tome covering the history of scientific advancements from the time of the Sorcery Enlightenment to the modern era. Dense and comprehensive, it was required reading for students at the Academy of Sorcery. Handing it to Gala, he said, “Try this one. It might be a bit more challenging.”
She took the book and started flipping through it. Within two minutes, she was done.
When she looked up at him, her face was glowing. “Blaise, this is so interesting,” she exclaimed. “I can’t believe so little was known before Lenard the Great came along. He discovered all these things about nature and how the mind works, not to mention the Spell Realm—”
Blaise nodded, smiling despite his shock. “Yes, he was a genius. And his students continued his work. That’s what the Enlightenment was about. Lenard and the sorcerers who followed in his footsteps shed light on our world, on the nature and mathematics of reality, on human psychology and physics—”
“Oh, I would’ve loved to meet him,” Gala breathed, her eyes huge with excitement. “He reminds me of you . . .”
“Of me?” Blaise couldn’t help laughing at that. “I’m very flattered, but I could never live up to Lenard’s achievements.”
Gala tilted her head to the side, looking thoughtful. “I don’t know about that,” she said. “You did create me, after all.”
“That’s true.” Blaise had to concede that point. “I’m sure Lenard would’ve loved to meet you as well. It’s too bad he disappeared over two centuries ago. His achievements live on, however, in all these books.” He gestured around the room.
She turned to look at the bookshelves and walked up to one of them, gently running her fingers over the dusty book spines.
“If you’d like to read more, my entire library is yours,” Blaise offered, seeing how she appeared to be drawn to the books. “It’s not as comprehensive as what you’d find in the Tower, but it should occupy even you for a bit.”
“I’ll start with more romances, I think,” she said, turning her head to flash him a dazzling smile. “That first book was more difficult for me.”
“You found the romance more difficult?”
“Of course,” she said seriously. “The second book made so much sense, and it flowed so easily, but the romance was more challenging. I didn’t fully understand all aspects of those people’s actions.”
Blaise stared at her. “I see. Well, read whatever you want. My library is at your disposal.”
Gala grinned at him, as eager as a child, and dove into another book, flipping through it with the same inhuman speed.
Taking a deep, calming breath, Blaise decided to leave her to it and quietly exited the library.
He needed some time to himself to figure out what happened and to think about what to do next.
* * *
Entering his study, Blaise sat down at his desk and pricked his finger, starting a Life Capture session out of habit. He always recorded himself at work these days, just in case he had some kind of a revelation and needed to relive it later.
Of course, he wasn’t expecting to have any kind of revelation about Gala right now. What happened today was so incredible, he could barely begin to process it.
He had created a magical being. A super-intelligent magical being with potential for unimaginable powers.
A being who was also the most beautiful woman Blaise had ever seen.
In hindsight, the fact that Gala took on a human shape made perfect sense. Blaise had been striving to create a mind that was similar to a human’s—a mind that could understand regular spoken language and convert it into the sorcery code directly, without having to use any kind of magical objects or spells. He should’ve considered the possibility that a mind like that would take on a human appearance.
But he hadn’t, focusing instead only on the idea that an intelligent object created in the Spell Realm could be used by anyone, regardless of their aptitude for sorcery. An object like that—particularly if made in large quantities—would’ve been a game changer, forever altering the class dynamics in their society and completing the process started by the Enlightenment.
Gala was not the object he’d meant to create, but it didn’t matter. She was something else—something even more wonderful.
His brother Louie would’ve been proud, Blaise thought, reaching for his journal.