The Secret of Spellshadow Manor 2: The Breaker Read online

  “Natalie! Natalie, are you okay?” He dug through the snow to get to her, though it was melting quickly in the sunlight.

  “Ow.” She winced, sitting up, showing surprise at the sight of the snow around her. She looked to Alex. “This was you?”

  He nodded. “I had to improvise.”

  “Thank you,” she whispered, holding a hand to the back of her neck.

  “Are you okay?” asked Alex, watching his friend as she checked her limbs for broken bones.

  “I think so. A few bruises.” She smiled feebly, though her sudden, sharp intake of breath when Alex reached out to help her up told him that she was putting on a brave face.

  Indeed, a purple welt was coming up beneath the apple of her cheek, and her upper lip was cut, fresh blood welling to the surface as Alex got her to her feet, the snow now a pool of water soaking into the thirsty dirt.

  “Anything broken?” he asked.

  Natalie brushed off the damp seat of her pants. “I do not think so.”

  “That was lucky,” said Alex, a worried look in his eyes.

  Natalie nodded. “A close call, no?”

  “Very close.” Alex sighed. “I don’t think we should try this anymore.” He helped Natalie across the derelict gardens, back toward the manor. She was limping slightly and leaned heavily against Alex as he walked with her.

  “Neither do I,” Natalie admitted, wincing as she lifted a hand to her cheek. “The manor’s magic is far stronger than I thought,” she added, looking up at the sky, squinting to try to see the invisible barrier she had smacked against. It explained why he’d never seen any birds within the manor walls.

  After dropping Natalie safely outside Professor Lintz’s classroom for their next lesson, Alex ran back to the library with his contraband book in tow, feeling responsible for the way things had gone outside. He had been so intent on finding a way to travel from the manor that he had pushed away all acknowledgement of the risks, putting Natalie’s life in danger.

  Alex raced up the ladders to the farthest tower and pounded across the levels, pausing at a gap in a shelf. He shoved the pink leather book into the empty slot. It didn’t matter that it wasn’t the right place; it would eventually find its way back where it belonged.

  As he made the slow climb back down, his gaze wandered to the sunlight beaming down on the lawn outside, glinting from the wall and glittering against the horizon where the real world lay. He wondered curiously if the travel techniques might be inverted with his anti-magical abilities so that he could twist the methods for his purposes. The gray ivy could prevent him from leaving, but he wasn’t convinced the invisible barrier could. He didn’t think anybody had thought in that much detail when designing the manor, of forging a barrier to keep Spellbreakers in. Then again, maybe they had. His people were the enemy after all.

  The outside called to him, tempting him to try.

  But what good would it do? Alex thought.

  It would mean abandoning his friends and every student within these walls to save himself. The selfish notion left a bitter taste in Alex’s mouth, and yet it was undeniably enticing. It wasn’t as though he could fetch help, Alex realized; the manor was no place for non-magical people, and they wouldn’t even be able to get close to the school, should they plan to launch any sort of rescue mission. People might even lock him up if he started babbling about magical manors and wizards, thinking he’d lost his mind, wherever he’d been the past year.

  His mother would welcome him home, though. Alex’s heart wrenched at the thought of her. She had been so ill before he’d disappeared. Who was to say she was even still alive, out there, waiting for him? Tears spiked the corners of his eyes as the morbid idea crept into his brain. He wondered if he’d know if she were dead—if some anti-magical part of himself would know, deep down, that she had gone. He had felt no such thing, at least to his knowledge, but he knew that didn’t mean his mother was okay. Maybe it just meant his anti-magic didn’t stretch that far.

  A large part of him wanted to jump ship that instant, damning everyone else. He just wanted to make sure she was still alive. But he doubted whether he could have the best of both worlds. After all, he wouldn’t be able to find his way back to Spellshadow if he left. He thought of Natalie and Jari, despite their ongoing differences, their families and their homes and their lives before. Of Natalie’s family, especially, who had sent her away to America under the assurance that she’d be safe with Alex and his mother, only to have her disappear off the face of the earth.

  Gritting his teeth, Alex knew he couldn’t just walk out, no matter how desperately he wanted to see his mother again. It was a tough pill to swallow, but there it was. Alex just wished fervently that time didn’t work the same out in the real world as it did within the manor walls—that a year to them was mere minutes to non-magical people. That would be ideal, Alex thought, hoping his mother wouldn’t have to miss him.

  Magical travel and anti-magical escape would have to wait. However, one technique close to the end of the tome had piqued Alex’s interest. The section title read “Portals and How to Find Them.” It did not require a spell, as such, but gave a short explanation on their usage: ‘Often appearing as still passageways or doors with strange auras, these portals lead to other realms and destinations. Portals require a vast amount of magic to create and keep open, but many can be found by chance, usually those that have been forgotten. To use them, one need only walk through.’

  Alex had committed the small section to memory, the words conjuring images of the shifting windows and the doors that led to nowhere within the manor. A slithering sense of despondency wriggled uncomfortably through his nerves, the realization dawning that it would take him years to check every single one. And by then, no doubt, it would be too late.

  They had been duped again. It was so obvious to him now. He felt a bubble of rising resentment ripple through his body. How he loathed the Head for dangling such a tempting carrot of hope, only to swipe it away. Then again, Alex realized, that book would never have been in the library if they could actually have used it.

  Chapter 13

  A blast of black energy, flecked with shards of silver, thudded against the cellar wall, exploding in a burst of ice and snow. Alex grinned as he watched the ball shatter mere inches from Jari’s head, a surprised expression appearing on the other boy’s face as cold flecks of snow landed on the back of his neck.

  Alex had finally managed to convince Jari to come and spar during the lunch break, after days of stilted conversation and frosty tension. He didn’t want to speak too soon and jinx himself, but the break from the norm seemed to be doing a world of good for their strained relationship. Alex thought he almost saw Jari smile as he sidestepped a well-aimed javelin of ice.

  Sparring was a slightly different beast where Alex was involved. He couldn’t simply throw his anti-magic in the direction of his opponent and expect them to snatch it away or deflect it with their magic; it would slip through their fingers, the anti-magic hitting home with a nasty sting at best, a deeper wound at worst.

  To prevent accidental injuries, Alex had suggested they draw crosses in the dirt for him to aim at, with the sparring partner standing between the markings; he would try to hit the targets instead of his opponent. So far, he had only made impact once, a stray shard of black anti-magic skewering the front of Jari’s boot, fortunately missing any toes. Otherwise, he had been on target, hitting the markings with a precision and focus that surprised even him. Jari and Natalie had been taking turns firing their magic at him. Alex had to swipe their attacks toward the wall with his anti-magic or attempt to dive out of the way when it came to particularly quick spears of golden light. Pleased with himself, Alex found he could snatch the stronger balls of magic in mid-air and make them evaporate into a flurry of snowflakes, where once he would have had to duck. Slowly, he was gaining some real control over his powers.

  It was thrilling to see the black and silver mingling with the gold and white as the el
ements crashed together in the vacant space between Alex and his opponent. Direct impact resulted in a loud bang of an explosion, the two contrasting energies hovering together for a moment before erupting into a rush of bright white light that burned the eyes to look directly into, the breeze from the blast whipping over their faces as it swelled outwards. A few times during the sparring session, Alex paused to watch it when he should have been ducking, but he simply couldn’t tear his eyes away from the sight.

  A distinct improvement in Alex’s focus and the strength of his summoning was evident to all, and he felt pride in the anti-magic he could conjure beneath his palms, molding it more easily to his will. The cold ripples coiled more effortlessly from his fingers, and he found he could spend less time with his eyes squeezed shut in concentration and more time looking at his opponent, surer that his anti-magic would do what he wanted as he watched for the moves and conjurations of his challenger. He had only been struck twice that session—a new record—the blows bruising him a bit as they disintegrated into snow, but doing no real harm.

  Even Jari seemed impressed as they finished up, both drenched in sweat, Alex finally on the way to being evenly matched with his magical counterparts. They stepped forward and shook hands. Alex grinned as he wiped the sweat away with the back of his forearm.

  “Good match,” said Jari, giving Alex a half-smile.

  “Well played,” agreed Alex.

  “You are getting much better!” Natalie chimed in from the side of the cellar, clapping gently.

  Alex beamed as he picked up a towel from the cellar floor, wrapping it around his neck. He felt pleased with his progress.

  “I’ve had a thought,” said Jari unexpectedly as he dabbed the last beads from his brow.

  “About what?” Alex asked, taking a sip from a mug of cold tea he had smuggled from the mess hall.

  “About the Head.” Jari slid down the wall of the cellar, landing in a heap on the floor as he sat against the earth, his legs extended.

  “What about him?” Alex felt a sense of dread at what was to come from Jari’s mouth.

  “I want to know if he’s still here or not,” Jari said simply.

  “It will not bring Aamir back.” Natalie spoke softly, sitting down beside Jari on the floor.

  Jari shook his head. “I want to find out if the Head is still within these walls, and, if he is, what he has done with Aamir. I need to know when Aamir is coming back,” he insisted, his voice tight. “I can’t rest until I know he’s okay,” he added quietly, looking far younger than his years as he dipped his head.

  “You think they punished him?” Alex wondered aloud. The thought had been plaguing him too, each night as he lay in bed, struggling to drift off, wondering if Aamir’s mouthed words to them had caused him extra trouble.

  “I don’t know. I just need to find out if the Head is still here,” Jari repeated. “I have my reasons.”

  “Well,” began Alex, pausing uncomfortably as he recalled the last time they had been in the cellar. “I’m having doubts about the Head leaving. He hasn’t left before, as far as anyone can remember, has he? I think it’s a trick to keep us scared.” Alex shook his head. “I don’t think Aamir has gotten into as much trouble as we fear. Or that the Head knows as much as we think he might. We’re still here, aren’t we? If he knew, we’d be gone for sure—I definitely would be. I think he just knows Finder is gone, but doesn’t know why or how,” he added, with an anxious shrug.

  “He would certainly have come for us, if he knew it all,” said Natalie. “If the Head truly is out there, though, then it is strange that he should go out of the manor with Aamir. If they have both gone, I wonder what it is they are up to. Surely, they would not both need to go if it was a matter of recruiting students?” she mused, her expression puzzled.

  “Or maybe he’s showing him how?” suggested Alex, the thought a chilling one. He did not like to think of Aamir out there, doing the job of that tattered gray ghost, using hypnotic whispers to draw young men and women into the trap of the manor, sentencing them to a life of imprisonment. Aamir was no Malachi Grey.

  “I just need to see that the Head is physically within this building. I have to see it for myself,” said Jari, with a determined grimace.

  “Why do you have to actually see him?” Alex pressed, worried for his friend.

  “It’s just something I have to do. It might be exactly what we are looking for,” muttered Jari, his voice barely audible.

  Alex stared at Jari intently, wondering if the boy could be right. If the Head was gone, it very well could be their only chance at taking control. A prime opportunity, not to be missed.

  “If I wanted to check, would you help?” asked Jari, sheepishly.

  Alex glanced at Natalie, but her expression gave little away as she shrugged a response.

  “It would depend on the plan,” Alex replied, understanding the subtle implication in Jari’s question. If Jari wanted to break into the Head’s quarters, he would need Alex. Maybe that had been the only reason Jari had agreed to come and spar, to get Alex back on his side.

  “I’ll work on it,” promised Jari as they all stood to leave, the manor calling them back.

  True to his word, Jari raced off to the library after classes were over for the day, leaving Alex to wander through the hallways by himself on his way back to the dormitory. Alex was glad Jari was speaking to him again, even if his reasons weren’t entirely honest; he had missed the quick humor and infectious laugh of his friend.

  Stepping through the door of the dorm, Alex could sense something was amiss. He glanced around the room, walking cautiously over to his bed.

  A figure slipped from the farthest shadows and sidled up to him. With a smirk etched across his black mouth, Elias perched on the bedpost, as solidly as a creature like him could, his shadow-draped body in constant fluid motion.

  “Well, well, hasn’t it been a long time,” he said.

  It felt bizarre to admit, but Alex had been worried for Elias; it had been weeks since he’d last seen him. With Malachi Grey gone, Elias was looking to be one of Alex’s only hopes for any grasp on his heritage or his anti-magic. It wasn’t as if the Head was going to tell him anything.

  “Hello, Elias,” replied Alex, trying not to let on that he was pleased to see his shadow-guide.

  “I believe congratulations are in order,” Elias whispered, his words like silk.

  “Congratulations?” asked Alex, confused, wondering if Elias had been in the cellar watching them. He hadn’t felt the eyes of the mysterious creature.

  “You disposed of that vile gray thing.” Elias grinned, a sinister quality in the pleasure of the words as they glittered in his endless black eyes, the whole of the universe seemingly compressed within two dark almonds. “You got rid of Malachi Grey, achieving what decades of your kind couldn’t.” He chuckled slyly. “Surely that has to feel good?” he said, his voice oozing like honey from the shadowy cavern of his mouth.

  Alex shrugged. “I haven’t really thought about it,” he lied. He got the feeling Elias wouldn’t take too kindly to his admission of second thoughts over the death of Malachi Grey.

  “And off the Head runs, like a scared little boy,” cackled Elias, the sound startling. It was hard not to hear the thrill in Elias’s voice. Alex couldn’t be sure, but he thought Elias seemed more excited about that than the actual disposal of Malachi Grey.

  “So, the Head really has gone?” asked Alex, wondering if he might get a straight answer for once.

  “That’s not for me to say,” Elias tutted.

  “Well, has he or hasn’t he?” Alex pressed, trying again.

  “Who can say?” Elias replied, the liquid slope of his shoulders rising in a shrug.

  “Have you just come back to annoy me?” Alex snapped. “Where have you been, anyway?” He eyed the shadow-man curiously, looking for a hint of honesty on the peculiar, ever-shifting face.

  “Oh, you know, here and there and everywhere. Watching this an
d that, getting under peoples’ feet.” Elias grinned, whipping his shape up suddenly into a wisp of black shadow before emerging against the post as a cat, his fangs pointed. Brushing his fluid form against the wooden frame, he stretched out, yawning loudly.

  “You have just come back to annoy me,” muttered Alex, lying back on the bed to stare up at the ceiling as the cat pounced up onto the mattress beside him, peering down with those alarming onyx eyes.

  “Oh, come now, there’s no need to be like that,” said Elias, the words rumbling at the back of his throat. Alex ignored him, watching the darkness play across the rafters.

  There was a snap in the air, a dark mist swirling as Elias-the-man reappeared. The stars in his eyes seemed to burn as he glanced down at Alex, his smile ebbing. “In fact, I brought you some things, though I’m not sure I want to hand them over now.”

  Alex sat up on his elbows. “You brought something?”

  “I certainly did,” said Elias, delving into the dark robes of his shadowy cloak, his hand seemingly disappearing into the starry expanse of his chest, a sight Alex wasn’t sure he could ever get used to. From within the crevasse of his ribcage, Elias withdrew two books. He handed the first to Alex—a red, leather-bound book. “I thought you might enjoy this one more,” he quipped as Alex read the cover. It was a non-fiction book, similar in style to the Historica Magica, but the title simply read A Comprehensive Guide to the Great Battles by Reginald M. Boyd.

  Alex smiled. “Another history book?”

  “Of sorts. Much more interesting than the last,” sighed Elias. “And this. A rare thing.” Elias handed Alex another book. This one was a notebook, slim and black, with barely any pages inside and no title embossed on the front to hint at what was held within. “You might find this useful.” Elias smirked.

  “What is it?” Alex asked, opening the middle of the notebook to find a scramble of symbols scattered across the thin paper, browning at the edges.