The Secret of Spellshadow Manor 3: The Chain Read online

  As he gazed out at the empty arena, he realized the stakes had been raised, whether he liked it or not. His future, and that of his friends, had become about more than simply getting home—he owed the other young mages, at Spellshadow and Stillwater, and beyond, the same hope.

  Chapter 13

  It was early evening, and the others had turned in for an early night. The events of the previous days had taken their toll, and nobody seemed to feel much like socializing.

  Alex had retreated upstairs to the bell tower and was watching the stars beginning to shine overhead when the sound of strange, whispered voices floated up through the window on the opposite side of the tower, distracting Alex. He rushed over to the slim sill and peered cautiously down into the courtyard below, trying to make out where the voices were coming from. It was dark in the abandoned section of the villa, keeping the speakers shrouded.

  Only when a figure emerged from the shadows at the far side of the courtyard did he see that it was the beautiful woman from the night at the arena, though she was not quite as elegantly dressed now as she had been then. She still wore a gown of sorts, in white and gold silk, but it was more modest than the gauzy, dazzling dress she had worn for the Ascension Ceremony. Her white hair, too, was held back simply with a plain silver band.

  Her voice was stern and irritated as she became more visible in the dim evening light. She kept glancing furtively over her shoulder, as if to make sure she was alone. Alex’s chest clenched in alarm as he saw her gaze turn briefly to the tower behind her. He hoped the others were being quiet in the rooms below, though he stopped short of calling out to them in case it drew any further attention from the glowering eyes of Princess Alypia. After a moment, she turned back around.

  Alex’s heart thundered as another figure stepped out into the courtyard—the speaker Alypia seemed to be snarling irritably at. Shrouded in dark robes that swamped the spindly body beneath, the long, skeletal fingers of the figure reached out toward her from the ends of wide sleeves, gesturing wildly. The hood of the robe was pushed backward to reveal a sunken, otherworldly face and lank, white hair that ran down the back of the speaker’s skull in thinning strands. The new arrival was as familiar to Alex as his own reflection.

  The Head had finally caught up.

  Alex marveled silently at Natalie’s skill in moving the portal; it had clearly taken the Head some time to physically reconnect with Stillwater, but he had done it—as Alex had known he eventually would.

  It was strange to see the Head without the hood obscuring his face. He was a thin, skeletal creature with a vulture-like neck and a gleaming skull. A vision of the younger Head, given to him when he touched Finder’s rotting skull, rushed into Alex’s mind. The Head had looked younger then, standing in the sunlight with a yet-to-be ghostly Malachi Grey, his white hair thicker, his eyes a stormy blue instead of the eerie, dull hollows they were now. Alex wondered how the years could have wreaked such havoc on the man. Despite what had gone on between them, Alex couldn’t help but think the Head looked almost pitiable.

  The feeling only intensified as he watched the peculiarity in the Head’s actions—the figure was talking in a soft voice, and the long, skeletal hands were held up in a gesture of surrender. The Head seemed almost cowed by the chastisement of the beautiful woman before him, and he shuffled uncomfortably beneath the stern gaze of her glittering eyes, which shifted from stunning to ice-cold in an instant. Alex didn’t think he’d like to be on the receiving end of her displeasure either.

  Listening more closely, he could make out some of what they were discussing, even though their voices were kept low. As far as he could tell, they were talking about the fight at Spellshadow and what had happened there. Alypia did not seem pleased by the outcome.

  “Are you telling me you allowed your school to be overrun by a bunch of students?” she scoffed. “How could you let that happen? It’s ridiculous—I could put my florist in charge of your school, and she’d run it better than you ever could. Every time I think you are about to prove yourself worthy, you go and do something stupid like this!” she barked as the Head shifted awkwardly. “I thought your little peculiarities were supposed to make you stronger, not weaker.”

  “It was out of my control, Alypia. I didn’t have a choice after they managed to get their hands on Malachi. So I hardly think that is fair!” remarked the Head angrily, though Alypia didn’t seem bothered by his sudden rage.

  She brushed him off like an annoying bee. “You were an idiot to put your faith in that suck-up. He would have betrayed you the first chance he got, had he not been all see-through—don’t think he wouldn’t! You don’t know the Greys like I know them. They’re all snakes,” she declared. “You’re just going to have to find a suitable replacement. Pick someone and do to them what you did to Malachi Grey. That’s if you can still remember how to do necromancy?” She raised her eyebrow, mocking him.

  “And what if they can’t do the job?” asked the Head sullenly. “I tried that with the new teacher—the one who escaped—but he couldn’t do it; he couldn’t seek out new recruits in the same way Malachi could. That’s how this all happened! Professor Nagi couldn’t manage it, so I had to go out there and find students myself. None of this would have been able to happen if I had been at the manor, but I wasn’t—it really was out of my control,” he insisted.

  Alypia seemed bored. “And how is this any of my business? If you can’t run your school, that has nothing to do with me.”

  “You know very well why it is your business, Alypia, so don’t try and play the fool,” he growled, his voice turning menacing. “Everyone knows that magic is dwindling in the nobles—without me and my school, you would soon struggle.”

  What did that mean? Alex wondered. Whatever it was, it had gotten Alypia’s attention. Suddenly, she seemed more interested in what the Head had to say.

  “Be that as it may, I still don’t see why you have come to me. I told you, I don’t know where your escapees are. Until today, all I knew was there had been a disturbance at the portal. How was I to know you were in the throes of an uprising?” She shrugged. “Besides, my scouts didn’t find anything when they went to check the portal, so who knows where they are by now.”

  Alex tensed at the mention of escapees, though he could feel the corners of his lips curving into a wry smile at the irony of it. If only the Head knew just how close he was.

  “I didn’t come to ask about the escapees—well, not entirely,” the Head said. “I was wondering if I might borrow a student to turn into the new Finder instead.”

  Alypia looked horrified. “No—absolutely not! I won’t spare another drop of noble blood on necromancy. It has to be one of yours.”

  The Head sighed. “Might I borrow some of the essence from the ceremony then, at the very least?”

  “I’m afraid not, little brother. You said so yourself: with things the way they are, we at Stillwater need to hold onto what we have, while we have it. If you’re short, you will have to start using your reserves—I know you have plenty,” she stated. “In the meantime, I will ask the others if they have any they can spare, though I’m sure you’re likely to get the same answer from them.”

  The conversation seemed to concern Alypia, especially the part about the dwindling magic, but something else entirely concerned Alex. He wasn’t sure if he had misheard, but he was certain Alypia had just called the Head “little brother.”

  “Thank you,” the Head muttered.

  “Honestly, what would you do without your big sister?” Alypia smirked.

  Alex definitely hadn’t misheard that time. His stomach sank.

  The resemblance was more believable, seeing them side by side, though time and looks had been far kinder to the beautiful Princess Alypia.

  ‘Princess’ Alypia? Alex paused in horrified thought. What did that mean about the Head? Was he magical royalty too? How could he be related to Alypia? Alex couldn’t quite get his head around it. True, she had called him “little bro
ther,” but it didn’t add up. The wrench in the works was Alex’s strong, almost certain understanding that the Head was half-mage, half-Spellbreaker, an improbable hybrid of the two, so how could he be related to the pure mage royalty of Princess Alypia? Was the Head a mutant, Alex wondered, remembering when he had thought himself to be one. Or was it simpler than that—was the Head the result of a forbidden affair between a mage and a Spellbreaker, making him a half-sibling, perhaps, of Alypia? There were so many possibilities.

  It made Alex think back to the portraits hanging on the walls in the Spellshadow ballroom, but there hadn’t been one of the Head alongside them. Slowly, he counted them in his mind. There had been eight portraits on the wall, but there were supposed to be nine havens—or had been, once upon a time. Did that mean Spellshadow was the ninth haven and the Head the ninth royal, whose portrait should have been up there? It made a lot of sense to Alex that a hybrid would end up the black sheep of the family, especially a royal one. The figures in the portraits had all seemed fairly regal, with their crowns and tiaras twisting through the same white hair the two siblings shared. If the havens were manned by magical royals, Alex mused, it would explain why their portraits had been up in the school ballroom in the first place.

  Somehow, in the confusing web of family ties, the Head was related to this stunning woman and seemed to be intimidated by her, which was something Alex had been sure he’d never see. The skeletal figure’s fear of her was almost weirder than them being related. It made Alex fearful too. If someone as strong and powerful as the Head was scared of her, then there was definitely something to be scared of.

  “I think we should go inside and discuss this further,” Alypia announced. “These are things that should not be spoken of out in the open.” Her eyes glanced uncertainly around, including up toward the tower, and Alex ducked down below the sill.

  Peering tentatively back over the ledge, he watched as the duo quickly moved away, heading through one of the archways that led from the abandoned courtyard into the villa itself. Desperate for more information and seeing a prime opportunity before him, Alex tiptoed as silently as he could down the staircase, past the sleepers on each floor below. Turning the key in the lock and letting himself out, he knew what he had to do. He was going after them.

  Chapter 14

  Alex slipped out of the tower and ran across the courtyard, following the path the two white-haired figures had just taken beneath the archway at the far end, into the school. The entrance wasn’t lit from the outside, and he almost stumbled headfirst into the corridor as his foot connected with a narrow step that led up into the villa. Pain shot through his leg, but he quickly covered his mouth with his hand so as to muffle his groan. Once the ache had subsided a little, he carried on through the dim light, hoping there would be a torch at some point along the way. His toe throbbed dully as he crept through the shadows.

  He knew it was an incredibly risky move, following the Head and the Headmistress. Glancing into the darkness behind him, he wondered what the others would say if they knew what he was up to. Undoubtedly, they’d want to know what the hell he thought he was doing. Doubt niggled in the back of his mind; it wasn’t just himself he was putting in the firing line by going after the two figures. If the leaders of Spellshadow and Stillwater discovered him, he and his friends would be in a whole world of trouble.

  For a moment, he thought about turning back, but the curiosity was simply too great. Alex was almost certain he would never get another opportunity like this, to observe the secret behaviors of the Head and Headmistress.

  As he made his way farther into the villa, torches began to appear on the walls, lighting the way. Good to see by, but also good for being seen, Alex thought wryly. Hanging back slightly at each corner, he watched the duo as they continued to walk through a series of winding corridors, each one looking the same as the last. It worried Alex slightly, as he tried to memorize the route for the return trip; if he took one wrong turn, he knew he could find himself lost in the labyrinth of the place. The Headmistress, however, knew exactly where she was going as she marched elegantly ahead of her strange little brother, who hurried to keep up. Alypia had the limbs of a gazelle and took one stride for every two of the Head’s.

  Waiting tentatively at the corner of a shorter corridor, Alex ducked behind the wall as Alypia came to a halt in front of a door in the wall. He held his breath, wanting to peer around but not daring to. Instead, he listened for the sound of a key grating in the lock and the scuffle of footsteps on the stone as they entered the room beyond.

  Once he was sure they had gone inside, Alex glanced down the corridor, checking the coast was clear before he moved stealthily over to the door and crouched down beside it. As his head came level with the door’s lock, his heart skipped a beat as the shrill, scraping sound of the key being turned on the other side rattled through his ear. They were separated only by the width of the wood the door was hewn from. He only hoped they would continue to be oblivious to his presence.

  Hunkering down against the wall, Alex scanned the corridor leading away from left to right. The shadows made him nervous. Sitting in the very center of the hallway, he was extremely aware of how exposed he was. If somebody appeared at either end, they would see him silhouetted in the torchlight that beamed down from the two brackets outside the room he was keeping vigil over—and he couldn’t use his anti-magic to try to conceal himself because Alypia and the Head were likely close enough to sense it.

  Yet, to him, the risk still seemed worth the reward.

  Turning toward the small keyhole, he pressed his eye up against it just in time to see Alypia walking away from the door, clutching a jangling set of keys on a large golden ring. Beyond the limited view of the spyhole, Alex could make out a fairly modest, windowless room—a study of some sort, he guessed, as he noted a series of well-stocked bookshelves along each wall and a broad, imposing marble desk which Alypia had just sat behind. On it were stacks of paper and an enormous yellow, blue, and green feather in a glass case, the brightly colored fronds curving over at the top toward a disc of gold plumage, like a peacock’s feather, but much more exotic. There was a brown armchair to one side, in front of the desk, into which the Head slowly sank down.

  Within a few moments, Alex could hear the murmur of speech filling the air between them, but he couldn’t make out what they were saying. With his senses on high alert, he scanned the corridor once again, praying that nobody would creep up on him from behind as he turned and pressed his ear to the keyhole instead of his eye, so as to eavesdrop better on their conversation.

  “And what state is it in now?” he heard Alypia ask.

  “It is still in utter disarray,” the Head sighed. “There were some very powerful teachers at Spellshadow, as you well know, and they were not easy to overcome when they chose to move against me. I am still trying to fix what they have done. One decided to scramble the corridors to hide the students, and each time I am almost at them, she moves them again. I know she’s getting weaker—she has to be. That amount of magic is enough to drain anyone of strength, but she’s proving more difficult to wrangle than I ever imagined she would be. A tough old bird, that one.”

  Gaze, Alex thought sadly.

  “You sound almost fond of her,” scoffed Alypia.

  “It is familiarity, not fondness, sister. Do not get them confused.” There was a warning in the Head’s voice, though Alex could not see his expression to confirm it. They had raised their voices slightly compared to the beginning of the conversation, and Alex turned to look back through, curiosity getting the better of him. From the keyhole, Alex could only make out the side of the Head’s sunken face.

  “Did you manage to instill loyalty in any of them?” she taunted.

  The Head’s long fingers picked agitatedly at the armrests. “Two. One is dead, and the other has caused me no end of trouble.”

  “In what respect?” asked Alypia, frowning.

  A low, reluctant sigh rattled from the ba
ck of the Head’s throat. “Professor Renmark made the reckless decision to kill a lot of the students, rather than round them up.”

  “How many?” Alypia growled. There was a twinge of annoyance in the curve of her delicate lips.

  “Almost half, if I am not mistaken.” The Head sagged in his chair.

  “So much wasted essence! How could he be so foolish? How could you be so foolish?” she hissed. “Tell me you have at least punished the man?”

  The Head shook his head. “Renmark is my only ally, sister.”

  “You are weak! You should never have been placed in charge!” she roared. “I told them so, but would they listen? I hope they’re turning in their graves now!”

  Goosebumps ran along Alex’s skin as he beheld the fury of Alypia. He could feel it surging palpably from her, her eyes burning with rage. As much as the Head deserved everything he got, Alex did not envy him.

  “I have made my mistakes, sister. I understand that, and I know I should have taken more care. But I am coming to you because I know when I need help. I need your assistance to restore the balance of the school so we can move on from this—so I can continue with my work to recruit students and replenish what Renmark destroyed. We need new students now more than ever,” the Head pleaded, any trace of pride gone.

  Behind the door, Alex seethed with anger. Those students who died in the library, at Renmark’s hands, were more than an amenity in need of restocking. It wasn’t like running out of salt at the grocery store. Yet that was how Alypia and the Head were discussing the young lives they wanted to snuff out for their own benefit. They were far more than ‘wasted essence’—they were wasted lives, and it enraged Alex that they didn’t care.