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The Spell
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The Secret of Spellshadow Manor 6: The Spell
Bella Forrest
Nightlight
Copyright © 2017 by Bella Forrest
Nightlight
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Epilogue
Read more by Bella Forrest
Chapter 1
Alex felt a shock run through his body as he put himself between Aamir and the first swell of the sentient, silver tide. It recoiled, leaving Alex with a sensation so unbearably cold that it burned, shivering through his veins like icy rocket fuel. It wasn’t something he had expected, given the mist’s Spellbreaker origins, but he knew he had intervened between predator and prey.
The mist paused only for a moment before surging forward again, though this time it avoided Alex, bending around him the way the same poles of a magnet repelled one another. Alex wanted to block the branching flow, but the shock of the mist’s initial strike had left him rooted to the spot, the slightest movement leaving every cell screaming in agony.
There was nothing for him to do but stand his ground. He opened his arms wide around Aamir, knowing he wouldn’t evade the oncoming mist, not if it meant his friend’s life. The first tendrils slithered past his own legs, the twisting silver tips coiling instead around Aamir’s ankles like snaking vines, drawn by the magic within him. Alex could almost sense how desperate it was to snatch at Aamir’s essence and drag it from the very depths of his body. The thought sent a pang of panic through him.
Looking up into the eyes of his friend, Alex saw tiny silver flecks appear in Aamir’s dark brown irises, and the faintest sparks of silver rose through the skin of his face. The mist was taking hold of him.
Bracing himself, Alex closed his eyes and clutched at the center of his anti-magic, building it into a powerful shield around his body, until the silvery mist snapped back with a jarring whoosh, the shield shocking it. The Great Evil hadn’t expected a Spellbreaker to sour the taste of mage essence.
Seizing the opportunity, Alex lunged forward, pushing Aamir toward the door, though every limb and muscle rallied against him. A guttural cry bellowed from the back of his throat, the pain in his body so intense he thought he might implode. For a brief second, everything went black, and though his vision returned rapidly, tiny black dots seemed to dance in the center of his eyeballs. Grimacing against the agony, he looked toward Aamir, making sure the older boy was as far from harm’s way as he could be. Aamir stared back, like a puppet with its strings cut, his eyes blank, though the silver flecks had begun to fade.
Staggering back, Aamir grasped for the handle of the pit door that had closed behind them during the ensuing chaos, and pulled it open. Alex turned back to the pit, knowing the mist wouldn’t hold off for more than a couple of seconds. He could feel it building behind him again, readying for another strike.
“RUN!” Alex roared, catching sight of Elias, who was still hauling an unconscious Virgil along the floor. Alex cursed under his breath; they couldn’t leave the Head here, not after what had happened. Something had gone terribly wrong with the counter-spell, that much was clear, but if they were to stand any chance of fixing the mistake he’d made, they would need to keep Virgil alive.
The only problem was, every part of his body felt as if it were crumbling, every tiny motion more agonizing than the last, and he had a sinking feeling that he wouldn’t be able to help drag Virgil from the room, even if he wanted to. As soon as the mist rushed back toward the door, they were done for—Alex would be frozen to the spot, Aamir would be engulfed, and it was yet to be seen what might happen to Virgil. Elias might be all right, Alex reasoned—Elias always found a way to survive.
But instead of rushing back toward Aamir, the mist peeled off in the direction of the Head, slithering across the floor until it reached the unconscious man’s dangling legs.
“He’s too fat!” Elias shouted, trying and failing to drag Virgil’s body across the floor. “Can I get a hand here?”
“I can’t! The mist did something to me!” Alex hissed, the pain overwhelming. He could only watch as the mist separated into long wisps shaped like the hands of a silver skeleton. The fingers clawed at the vulnerable flesh of the white-haired hybrid, evidently trying to get at whatever remnant of mage-kind remained within him. Alex gasped, not knowing what it would mean if the mist managed to take Virgil’s magical half from him—would it even stop at half, Alex thought, or might it develop a taste for the anti-magical half as well?
Alex forced one foot in front of the other, each step knocking the breath out of him, but then he suddenly became aware of a movement behind him. Turning, an expression of horror fell across his face. Aamir was running toward the pit, his eyes focused on Virgil and the misty snakes snapping at the Head’s heels. Ducking, Aamir grasped Virgil’s arm and yanked it around his shoulder. It was a split-second movement, and one that Alex couldn’t prevent. He wanted to yell at his friend for his heroic stupidity, but Elias and the older boy were already hurrying back toward him at breakneck speed, the weight now shared between them. Alex tried to move, gritting his teeth against the pain, but each movement was too slow, too ineffective.
“I still can’t move!” Alex called out.
Elias’s teeth glinted in a grin. “Brace yourself!”
The shadow-man’s vaporous arm caught Alex square in the back, sending him hurtling in the direction of the exit. It was just the encouragement his body needed, the icy stiffness inside him shattering upon the impact of the shadow-man’s shove, the strange frost splintering, giving him his movement back.
He didn’t waste another moment. Racing toward the door, Alex yanked it fully open and ushered the other two ahead of him, slamming the thick door shut behind them, just in time to hear a great tidal wave of mist crash against it, the vibrations shuddering through his hands, though he pulled them away sharply.
Even then, Alex didn’t dare take a moment to pause. He wasn’t naïve enough to think that the door would hold back the silver mist for long. It would figure out a way through the cracks and crevices. It would find every single mage and suck the life out of them until they were empty shells.
“We have to get to the others,” gasped Alex, the pain all but gone from his bones. “Can you carry Virgil?” he asked, glancing between the shadowy form of Elias and a panting Aamir.
Aamir nodded. “We’ve got him.”
“We have to get out of here before that mist escapes,” said Alex, though he knew he was stating the obvious. The severity of the situation was clear to everyone present, but it wasn’t an easy thing to process. Though there was no time to dwell on what had happened, Alex co
uldn’t help but feel foolish—he had been too confident, too sure of himself, and it had ended in disaster. Why he had thought the spell would be easy, he no longer knew. After retrieving the book and passing all the tests required of him, he supposed he had thought his “worthiness” would see him through to victory, but it had needed more. The spell had needed something he hadn’t given it, and now it was up to him to figure out what that missing piece was, while hoping he didn’t make another catastrophic error.
“Well, are we going or not?” Elias asked, his silky voice tinged with a note of uncharacteristic fear.
Without another word, they hurried through the rock-hewn hallway and up the staircase, emerging breathlessly into the private library, which already held so many nightmares for Alex. He tried not to look at the spot where he’d found Ellabell after Elias’s scaremongering, and pressed on past it, out into the wide hallway of the Head’s quarters. They ran through the main body of the school, sprinting over the broken ends of the golden line that had once kept the hallways safe from prying eyes.
Alex skidded to a halt as a pained grunt echoed in the corridor behind him. Snapping his head back to find the root of the sound, he saw Aamir crumple to the ground, Elias sagging as his hold on Virgil was knocked off balance. Aamir’s face twisted in a mask of agony, his arms gripping his stomach. It was a position Alex had seen his friend in before, but this didn’t seem like a curse. No, this was something else entirely.
“What’s the matter?” Alex asked, rushing to Aamir’s side.
“Something… burning… inside me,” he panted, beads of sweat appearing across his forehead.
“Do you feel cold?”
Aamir shook his head. “No… very hot… like I’m… on fire,” he gasped.
Alex turned to Elias for help, half expecting a sassy remark or a shrug of his vaporous shoulders. Instead, the shadow-man dropped Virgil on the ground and swept over to Aamir’s hunched form, allowing his wispy hands to pass through the older boy’s skin. Alex frowned, unsure of what Elias was trying to do. It looked to him like the shadow-man was rummaging around inside Aamir’s body, but it was hard to tell whether the movements were intended to heal or hurt. Alex hesitated, debating whether or not to step in and stop him. He decided to hold himself back and let the shadow-man continue. It soon became apparent that whatever his rummaging technique was intended for, it seemed to be working. A moment or two later, Aamir visibly relaxed, the pain fading from his face.
“What did you do?” Aamir asked, catching his breath.
Elias gave the shrug that Alex had been waiting for. “A bit of this, a bit of that. I wouldn’t want to give away state secrets,” he purred, though it was evident he felt pleased with himself.
“What was wrong with him?” Alex demanded, not in the mood for any of Elias’s games.
Elias sighed. “Some of the mist got into his system—his magic is all jangled up inside him, spreading through his squishy bits like oil on water. He’ll be fine once it all finds its way back to where it ought to be.” He turned to Aamir, who was looking up at him with a pained expression. “Though, I wouldn’t go using your magic for a while, old boy—not unless you want to end up putting on a rather remarkable fireworks display, with yourself as the main event.”
A smile curved his wispy mouth, but his heart didn’t seem to be in it. Though he knew Elias would never admit it, Alex was sure the truth was that the shadow-man was just as spooked by the whole incident as the rest of them.
“How long should I avoid using it?” Aamir asked, his brow furrowed with concern. Alex didn’t blame him; it wasn’t every day a person got told they might explode if they did something that came naturally to them.
Elias shrugged. “Until you feel normal again… Maybe start small, see what happens,” he teased.
“The mist is probably spreading already. We’ve got to go,” said Alex, cutting Elias’s amusement short. “Aamir, I’ll help Elias with Virgil. You go on ahead,” he insisted, nodding toward the darkened hallways of the school.
“You make it sound like I’m a virgin,” Elias purred.
Alex flashed him a bemused look. “What?”
“You make it sound like I’ve never seen this happen before,” the shadow-man elaborated. “I know what that stuff does. I’ve seen it with my own eyes… when I had proper eyes. I have seen havens fall before—you’re the one who has no idea what’s coming.”
“You saw the havens fall?” Aamir asked.
Elias tilted his head in a languorous nod. “Comes with the territory of my chosen career, I’m afraid. But story time can wait. We need to be moving on.” He grinned, returning to his perpetually vague, annoying self.
In any other situation, Alex would have asked to hear more. It was infuriating, being fed such juicy morsels of information, but there were too many innocent souls still within the walls of Spellshadow, and he couldn’t allow himself to think about anything else until they were safe. This was his fault, after all, and their lives were his burden to bear.
The buzz of chatter and the scuff of footsteps echoed down the corridor, and though Alex dreaded what was to come, the sound filled him with a strange sense of relief. His friends, his former classmates, and people he’d never even met were waiting in those halls. Soon, he would have everyone gathered together, where they could begin the evacuation of Spellshadow Manor.
It was time for another haven to fall.
Chapter 2
Alex took Aamir’s place, picking the listless Virgil back up with Elias’s help, before racing toward the sound of people. He turned the corner of a particularly ivy-swamped corridor to see Helena, Ellabell, Natalie, and Jari standing a short way off, at the head of a large congregation of Spellshadow students. There were Stillwater students too, and though Alypia’s magic had faded at the elite school, it was still easy to pick out who was who—there was an otherworldly beauty to the Stillwater youth, even now, that the outside-world folk did not quite possess.
Alex was surprised to see Catherine de Marchmont sitting in the alcove of a shifting hallway window, the landscape behind her showing a dark, dreary moor, a fine spray of rain washing over the gnarled roots of ancient trees. Her eyes were rimmed with red, her pretty face pale and drawn. It was evident she’d been crying, and Alex felt a pang of guilt, seeing her distress. Jun Asano had died at his hand, though his intentions had been honorable. If he hadn’t stepped in, he was certain Jun would have killed Natalie, but that fact didn’t make him feel any better. The memory still haunted him, and he knew the weight of Jun’s life would rest on his shoulders for a long time to come.
Two other black-cloaked professors stood to one side, their heads hung low in shame. They wore the same tired expression that Catherine did, and Alex wondered if it was because Helena had removed their curses, the way she had done with Aamir. Glancing down at the edges of their cloak sleeves, he saw that the golden lines that had once encircled their wrists were gone. Remembering the toll it had taken on Aamir, he found himself feeling even sorrier for the three chosen ones, who had been wrangled into doing the Head’s bidding.
As Alex and the others approached, the three new professors stared at the unconscious Head, a mixture of terror and disgust flashing across their faces. Alex almost breathed a sigh of relief; such a look could only mean one thing—these three, at the very least, were free of the Head’s influence. Old feelings of fear, the kind Alex and his friends had once felt, appeared to have replaced false sentiments of worship. Alex just wished it was in better circumstances that they had been returned to their former selves.
It was Natalie who saw them first.
“Alex! Aamir,” she said, with a hint of surprise. He guessed she hadn’t expected Virgil to be returning. In truth, none of them had. They had been so sure of everything going right… a foolish assumption, in hindsight.
“We have to get out of here. Now,” Alex said.
“What happened?” Helena chimed in, her eyes glancing across the peculiar party of
four. Elias, rather than running off in his usual manner, had remained, his vaporous form floating just above the flagstones, the Head’s arm alarmingly visible through the shifting shadows of his neck. Alex caught the silver-haired girl’s suspicious glance, and knew there would be questions later, when they made it out of Spellshadow.
“It all went wrong,” Alex said bluntly. The blood drained from their faces.
“The spell didn’t work?” Ellabell asked, her eyes wide.
“Something was missing,” Alex replied quickly. “It was all going fine, and then… I don’t know what happened, but the ground began to shake, and…” He paused, not quite knowing how to phrase the next part. “The Great Evil… it’s coming for us,” he said, his heart heavy. The hallway had gone so silent that every single word carried with crystal-clear clarity, bouncing off the stone walls. Even though many of the other students had little idea of what he was talking about, the fear that rippled through the congregation was unmistakable.
Alex met the eyes of those in the group. “The mist is rising, and we need to be as far from here as possible.”
“Isn’t it gonna spread to the other havens?” Jari asked.
Elias was the one to answer. “Not if essence is still being poured into the pits at the other havens,” he said grimly. “I know because I’ve seen it. That’ll keep the mist at bay… for now.”
“But there is no more essence at Stillwater,” Helena said, her voice shaking.