The Test Page 11

  Taking a deep breath, he turned the first page.

  Chapter 14

  Flicking through the pages, Alex ran his finger across the glyphs, eager to find out what secrets they would reveal. Remembering the way he had conjured the thin veil of anti-magic to read Leander’s notebook, he did the same now, creating a square of gauzy energy that would unravel the glyphs. The symbols spread out before his eyes, tumbling into sentences and paragraphs. There were diagrams, too, though some of them depicted things Alex didn’t even want to look at. Flaying a person, removing a voice, disintegrating a body from the inside out. That last one reminded Alex of Julius, and what he’d done to the laughing prisoner. He shuddered at the memory.

  The whole book was packed to the brim with spells, some intriguing, some awful, some downright baffling. Alex wondered if any of these horrible things had been used during wartime, and had a strong feeling they probably had.

  It took him until the very end of the book to find the spells he actually wanted to see, not that he didn’t enjoy the detour. Anything to do with the Spellbreakers had him hooked. Running the square over the glyphs, he saw that they were twin spells, coming one after the other—the one Leander had used to release the Great Evil, and the one Alex was expected to perform. Reading through it, he wondered if it had been Leander himself, or some other Spellbreaker, who had built the contraption that held the book within, as a means of keeping out prying eyes. Perhaps the writer of the book had created the vault, though there was no name on the cover or inside the tome, as far as Alex could see.

  It made him think about who might have sacrificed themselves for Virgil’s run of the gauntlet. Does that mean Virgil is worthy? Alex mused, trying and failing to see Virgil in another light. It didn’t seem possible. Maybe the Head had cheated somehow, or forced somebody to give their life. Alex simply couldn’t believe Virgil had enough moral fiber to have won the book on his own merit.

  Drawing his focus back to the book, he began to absorb the words on the page in front of him. The steps themselves were relatively brief, only requiring a few items, but the incantation was long. Surprisingly, it was just one sole object on the list that caused his heart to sink the farthest.

  The first was the revelation that the counter-spell had to be performed by consuming more than five drops of blood from the king or queen, and the second was the knowledge that the spell had to be done by someone who was wholly ready to meet their fate. Alex wasn’t sure what that meant, but he was beginning to suspect it meant that the spell required voluntary participation. So, he couldn’t be coerced into doing it, no matter how much the royals might want to force him. For a moment, he felt a fleeting sense of joy, as he realized that the royals must not know about that aspect. Elias’s words began to take on more clarity too; the shadow-man had said it was Alex’s battle, nobody else’s.

  However, he began to have doubts about the implications where Virgil was concerned as he read on. The spell said that the performer must give an honest sacrifice, without selfish intention, with one hand placed on the book, so that the book may gauge the honesty of the spell-caster. Alex hoped he could manipulate Virgil’s mind into feeling those things, with enough truth to convince the book of good intention and honest sacrifice, but the blood aspect was a huge wrench in the works. He definitely couldn’t fake that.

  After all this time trying to evade the upper echelons of royal society, to be told that he now needed their involvement was a real blow to his optimism.

  He kept reading, regardless. The incantation covered two whole pages, but there was a rhythmic flow to it. On the back page, where the incantation ended, was another section, written in a box below the spell itself. It told of a loophole, though not in so many words:

  Where there are rules, there are always exceptions. Should a Spellbreaker be unable to undertake the task at hand, there is another who will suffice. A mage may take the place of a Spellbreaker sacrifice, should they be of extraordinary power. No simple, everyday mage. The mage must be nearly unique in their potent ability. Failing such a volunteer, the king or queen whose blood is consumed may be used in the completion of this spell, though the sacrifice must be willingly intended, just as the Spellbreaker’s should be. If an apology were to be made, with the price of their own life paid, then the powers released would be drawn into the earth again, all ties mended, all lost lives paid for in sorrow.

  Alex knew he had little chance of making Julius take on the mantle of martyr, not with what he had learned of the king, and seen with his own eyes. Venus, however, remained something of a mystery, though he was pretty sure she’d have the same reaction as her husband, if the option were put before her. He didn’t think one disastrous affair with a Spellbreaker would be enough to make her change her mind, though the more he dwelled on her, the more he wondered what she would make of him, given his origins.

  She had loved his ancestor. Did that bind them together, in some strange way?

  If it did, he still had zero hope that she would step in and voluntarily take the task of the counter-spell upon her shoulders.

  No, it’s either you or me, Virgil.

  Before he could even think of the Head, however, he had to come up with a way of getting the blood. In the spell, it said he needed the blood of the king or queen, but Alex didn’t even know where they lived. He would have to bring Julius or Venus to him, somehow.

  His mind raced with possibilities, settling on Venus as the proposed target. Julius was too volatile and too unpredictable, and Alex knew he’d never get close enough to the king to extract any blood. He was, however, more optimistic about the queen; so far he hadn’t heard any fearsome tales about her. Alex would just need to get close to her, perhaps visit her as she slept and take some blood without her even knowing.

  How hard can it be to get five drops? he thought as the ideas rolled in.

  If he could get her to come to Falleaf House, he was positive he could retrieve the blood, one way or another. There were endless methods he could utilize, but it meant enlisting Hadrian’s help. The kind royal was scared of his own shadow, and visibly quaked at any mention of Julius, or any other royal for that matter. Alex didn’t know where to begin when it came to convincing Hadrian that it’d be a good idea to invite Venus down to Falleaf House. Elias had been right about Hadrian’s pacifism, but it was so much more than that—it wasn’t pacifism, but an all-out refusal to face conflict of any sort. This was going to take some real effort, and all the charm Alex had at his disposal. He knew it might even take a threat or two, if pushed.

  With his mind brimming, he walked toward the door of the chamber and peered out, but the dining table was empty. The others had undoubtedly gone to bed too, after the strain of an arduous, sorrowful day.

  For a moment, he pondered going in search of Hadrian, to start convincing him right now, but thought better of it. It didn’t seem polite to steal through someone’s home and disrupt them in their personal chambers, just to ask a favor that they would no doubt have nightmares over. It would have to wait until morning, and though that frustrated Alex deeply, there was a hint of relief too. He was utterly exhausted; he could wait one evening before putting his plan in action.

  Chapter 15

  It seemed his night wasn’t quite yet over, however, as the shadows began to shift in the corner of the room, dripping downward in a vaporous waterfall. They slithered along the floor, and Elias burst up out of the darkness. For the first time since Spellshadow, there was no barrier seeking to distort Elias’s form; he was as whole as a wispy thing like him could be.

  Alex rolled his eyes, turning away from the shadow-man. It had been coming for a while, this appearance, but Alex wasn’t ready for it. There was a lot of unspoken rage inside him, where Elias was concerned, and he didn’t think another meeting would do much to heal the wound. No amount of good intention could ever bring his father back, nor could Elias be forgiven for his kidnapping of Ellabell. Even if it had been Elias helping her in the vault, trying to ease
her fear of the dark by handing her the key, it didn’t make up for the act that had probably made her afraid of the dark in the first place.

  “The fun has arrived!” Elias grinned.

  “The fun should go away,” Alex remarked sourly.

  “Is that any way to speak to your new partner? We’re linked now, kiddo—there’s no escaping me this time, so you might as well get used to having me around,” Elias purred.

  Alex flashed the shadow-man a dirty look. “I’ve been trying to ‘get used’ to you since the moment we met,” he said curtly, his expression changing as he processed the words Elias had said. “Wait, what do you mean ‘linked’? What have you done to me?” Whatever it was, he knew it had something to do with the visions he’d been having.

  Elias pulled a face. “It’s not what I have done to you, but what you’ve done to me. You tore off a little piece of my soul, and now we’re linked forever—whether you like it or not.” He chuckled. “There’s a funny sort of irony in it, wouldn’t you say? You try so hard to keep me away, then go and do something stupid like get yourself mentally joined to me. I do love a delicious slice of comeuppance.”

  “It’s not me who needs the comeuppance, Elias,” Alex growled, letting the words sink in. Elias was the last person in the world he wanted to be linked to, in any way, shape or form. Regardless of the reasoning, Elias was the one responsible for the death of his father, and the knowledge of their new bond made Alex feel as if a terrible virus had crept its way into his veins.

  A moment of tense silence stretched between the two acquaintances. It was Elias who broke it.

  “I know, Alex,” he said, with uncharacteristic solemnity. “I’m… sorry for the pain I have put you through, and the things I have done to hurt those you love. I promise I am trying to be a better being, in any way that I can.”

  Elias hung his head, and Alex felt as if he were in therapy, listening to the words of a recovering addict. It was tricky to gauge whether the sentiment was genuine or purely for show.

  “What’s brought all this on?” Alex asked. “It’s not like you to be so gushy.”

  The shadow-man gave Alex a withering look. “Here I am, pouring my heart out, and all you can do is mock. Well, I shall take my feelings elsewhere—or, perhaps, I’ll feed them into your mind until you beg me to go back to gushing. How about that?”

  “So it has been you feeding images into my head?” asked Alex.

  Elias sighed wearily. “You really do need everything spelled out for you, don’t you? I’m sure if I whacked you around the face, you’d say, ‘Did something just hit me?’ How you coped before I came along, I’ll never know,” he teased. “Yes, it has been me, feeding my thoughts into yours. I’d say I’ve come in pretty handy, wouldn’t you?”

  Alex had to admit that he had. If Elias hadn’t used their mental link, Alex knew he might still be standing on the edge of a mountainside, trying to figure out how to ride a Thunderbird.

  “You’ve done okay,” he said reluctantly, though it didn’t make up for all the hurt Elias had caused.

  “Ouch—damning me with faint praise.” Elias scoffed.

  “Was it you who got us into trouble, in the vault?” Alex asked, ignoring Elias’s dramatic expression of hurt, one shadowy hand pressed to his vaporous forehead.

  Elias lifted his wispy shoulders in a shrug. “Even if I hadn’t helped that curly-haired crush of yours, you’d still have had to do what you did. That nosy guardian just decided to throw me under the bus, to make you blame me. He’d have made something else up, even if I hadn’t given my assistance. Your little sweetheart would likely do the same again, given the chance. Quite the firebrand, that girl. I’m starting to think I should have started pestering her instead of you,” he remarked, with something akin to respect.

  Alex had a feeling he was going to prefer it when Elias hadn’t liked Ellabell, and yet, there was a small part of him that wanted to thank the shadow-man for how he had helped her, in the pitch-black room. Still, he couldn’t quite bring himself to say so, after the enormity of what had happened between them. Not yet, anyway.

  “Do you think you’ll be able to help me collect the blood I need for the spell?” Alex asked, changing the subject.

  Elias tilted his head from side to side. “I may come up with something—what did you have in mind?”

  “You don’t already know?” Alex joked. “I was thinking of asking Hadrian to call Venus to Falleaf. Maybe you could get the blood for me, if you can sneak up to her?”

  “Not really in the job description, old pal, but I can certainly provide a suitable distraction while you get close enough to extract what you need. Mind you, I think the harder task will be getting wimpy little Hadrian to get her here in the first place!” He cackled. “You don’t feel up to taking on the big dog, then?” He flashed a knowing look at Alex.

  Alex shook his head. “I still value my life. I figured Venus would be easier to approach than Julius.”

  “You’re not wrong.” Elias nodded. “Have you read over the counter-spell carefully? It may sound obvious, but, knowing you, it may not be—the spell must be performed perfectly. There is no room for any error, however small. There can’t be a single flaw, or missed step, otherwise it won’t work. More than that, there could be disastrous consequences if it gets messed up. I don’t mean a slap on the wrist or a paltry shock or something—I mean disastrous consequences.”

  “I’m aware, Elias. I know what’s at stake,” Alex grumbled. As ever, Elias was making him feel like a stupid kid, unable to put two and two together.

  Elias raised his palms in surrender. “Hey, no need to shoot the messenger. If something does go awry, I’m just covering my ass, making sure you can’t blame me.”

  “I doubt you’d let me blame you anyway—you’re always wriggling free of responsibility,” Alex remarked tersely. Elias was beginning to get on his nerves again. “What are these disastrous consequences, anyway?”

  Elias raised a wispy finger to the place where his lips should have been.

  Alex let out a sigh of exasperation. “I thought we were over that?”

  “Afraid not. Still only allowed to say snippets, without giving away the whole truth,” Elias said. “It’s as annoying for me as it is for you.”

  Alex found that hard to believe, knowing how Elias reveled in the misery of others. He was fairly sure the shadow-man wouldn’t lose sleep over not being able to say more, if he even slept at all.

  “How come this spell is so complex?” Alex asked.

  “Spells are always complex,” Elias retorted.

  “I know that, but why is this one so complex?” Alex explained. “I mean, if the counter-spell is this hard, how did Leander bring the Great Evil into the world with such apparent ease? Like, compared to this, the stories I’ve heard of how he did it seem pretty simple.”

  “It’s easier to break things than to fix them,” Elias replied.

  For once, the shadow-man’s ambiguity made perfect sense. Alex flipped back through the spell book to the twinned spell that had released the Great Evil, and saw that it was, indeed, much shorter and much simpler. It required a few of the same ingredients, but the spell as a whole was not nearly as involved as the one he was expected to perform.

  An idea formed in Alex’s mind, and it was definitely not one that had been put there by Elias. It was the makings of a contingency plan, should things get really bad. Reading over the notations at the very bottom of the last page, his eyes were drawn to the mention of somebody with extraordinary power being able to assist with the spell. Although Elias was no longer very human, he was definitely a creature of extraordinary power, who had once been the kind of mage described in the pages of the spell book—a unique individual. He’d heard Derhin mention it too, as well as Elias himself, who was often boastful of his own abilities, now and in the past.

  Could a guardian protect a Spellbreaker, if they were strong enough? he pondered, flashing a curious look at Elias, who was busy tr
ying to grasp the tail of an asteroid that was trailing along his arm. Perhaps the shadow-man would prove himself when the time came—it just depended on what Elias was willing to give up, provided his eternal vendetta didn’t get the better of him.

  “You should probably go. I need to sleep,” said Alex. There was a lot to think about, and Elias’s presence was clouding his thoughts.

  Elias grinned. “I’m taking my guardian duties to heart these days. You won’t be sending me away so easily anymore. I plan to watch you, around the clock, until there is no longer anything to protect you from,” he said, evidently overjoyed at the prospect of causing Alex more irritation.

  Flashing Elias a look of pure loathing, Alex got up and stepped into the bathroom that adjoined the chamber Hadrian had set up for him. Looking at the door through the bathroom mirror, he half expected Elias to come in after him, but, fortunately, the shadow-man kept his distance. After washing himself and dressing in the pajamas that had been provided, he opened the bathroom door a crack and peered out at the room beyond.

  Elias was nowhere to be seen.

  Even so, as Alex slipped beneath the sheets, he could feel the familiar prickle of eyes on him. He tossed and turned, struggling to drift off. Just as he was about to surrender to the oblivion of sleep, he heard a voice whispering, close to his ear.

  “Rock-a-bye baby, on the tree tops, when the wind blows, the cradle will rock. When the bough breaks, the cradle will fall, and down will come baby, cradle and all.”

  It was the creepiest lullaby Alex had ever heard, and the sound of it being breathed into his ear made his spine tingle in the most unpleasant way. It conjured up every nightmare he’d ever had, of monsters and ghouls hiding beneath his bed, and scary-faced clowns hiding down storm drains.