The Secret of Spellshadow Manor 6: The Spell Read online

  With his life on the line, he didn’t particularly feel like eating. In fact, the sight of so much food made his stomach turn. Julius was watching him closely, no doubt expecting him to refuse the glorious meal he had prepared, just so he could pretend to be affronted, or could gain some smug pleasure in the fact that Alex was too scared and too broken to eat. Well, Alex wasn’t going to permit that. No matter how sick he felt, he wasn’t going to give the king the satisfaction. Sitting down in the chair opposite Virgil, Alex picked up his knife and fork.

  “Is this for us, Your Royal Highness?” Alex asked brightly.

  A flicker of disappointment passed across Julius’s face. “It certainly is. I thought you could use a hearty meal to restore your strength before the big event. I’m just sorry we couldn’t save you any of the delicious roast we had,” he said, recovering quickly. The king’s jibe stung Alex to the very core, but he refused to react, no matter how much it pained him. He had to try very hard not to show how the words “big event” jarred in his head, too—if Julius had put on this meal before the “big event”, that meant it was today. With Virgil there too, it only confirmed Alex’s suspicions. Still, he wasn’t going to let the king see his terror, not if he could help it.

  “How very thoughtful,” Alex remarked. “This is so generous, Your Royal Highness. Do you mind if I dig in? I’m starving,” he said, laying it on thick.

  “By all means,” Julius replied, having a harder time keeping his emotions off his face. Alex could see the very act of him eating was irking the king, and that pleased him greatly.

  Reaching forward, he took up two enormous waffles, drenched in a bright amber syrup, and brought them to his plate. With one eye always on Julius, Alex forced the food down, though it got stuck in his throat. Gritting his teeth, he swallowed, taking bite after bite and going back for more, simply to prove a point. He ate apple slices coated in cinnamon and sugar; he ate blueberry pancakes; he ate thick slices of toast drenched in dark jam. He ate hash browns; he ate omelets with cheese; he ate a myriad of things he’d never seen before—little pinwheel pastries stuffed with green, jelly-like goo, and steamed buns with savory fillings. He ate as much as he could, washed down with orange juice and black coffee, until he felt like he really was going to be sick.

  “That was delicious,” Alex said, patting his stomach. “You are most kind, Your Royal Highness. I know you didn’t have to do this for me. You have my thanks.”

  Julius stared at Alex, in disbelief of the amount of food he had just polished off. “Yes, well, I try to cater to my guests as best I can. It is a royal duty, to see people are well taken care of within the palace walls,” he said, still staring at the empty plate in front of Alex, and the chunks he’d taken out of the feast. “Are you sure you are finished?” he asked, sarcastically.

  Alex nodded. “Oh yes, I couldn’t eat another bite, though I might get hungry in a bit.”

  “Then we should begin preparations,” Julius remarked. “I trust you brought the book, as instructed?”

  “Yes, Your Royal Highness,” said Alex. He brought out the book and laid it on the table, pushing his plate away with a spine-tingling scrape to make room.

  “Very good. I would like you and Virgil to go over the spell until you know it back to front,” he insisted. “I will not have another slip-up. Is that clear? Although, you know the consequences for your friends if you fail.” He smiled cruelly, drawing a line across his neck with his index finger.

  Alex wanted to roll his eyes, or at least tell the king how clichéd he was, but he held his tongue. Such comments would get him nowhere.

  “Of course, Your Royal Highness,” Alex replied.

  “As you know, you only have one chance left to get it right, so make it count,” Julius added, the remark falling somewhat short of a pep talk.

  “Of course, Your Royal Highness,” Alex repeated.

  With that, Alex and Virgil set to work. The skeletal man came around to Alex’s side of the table so they could work at closer proximity to the book. The atmosphere was tense, with Alex constantly aware of Julius’s eyes upon them, perhaps wondering what they were discussing. When Alex conjured up a thin veil of anti-magic, by which they could read the words on the pages, Julius’s face twisted into a mask of utter disgust—it seemed the very sight of something Spellbreaker caused a kneejerk reaction of displeasure. Alex tried not to smile.

  “I’m still not sure where it went wrong the last time, though I know it had something to do with it not being ‘witnessed properly,’ whatever that means,” Alex began, pointing at the section in the spell where the line was mentioned. The words were very hard to make out, but he could discern the phrase he was looking for. “Yeah, here: ‘Two sides of a coin must witness and see, for the grip on the realm to be finally free.’ I was thinking about this part yesterday, and thought it might have something to do with it.”

  Virgil nodded. “I had been thinking about that too.”

  “Do you know what it means?” Alex asked innocently, testing Virgil’s dedication to secrecy.

  Virgil glanced at him oddly. “I have an idea, but it’s not something I can share,” he whispered.

  “Why can’t you share it, if I’m the one doing the spell?” Alex pressed, feeling a strong sense of déjà vu.

  “I can’t explain now, but be sure it is all in hand,” Virgil breathed, making sure Julius couldn’t hear.

  Alex shook his head. “No, this is stupid. If you know—” His words were cut off by the hasty arrival of the young woman he’d seen upstairs sitting at the desk, the whites of her eyes showing her fear. She rushed over to where Julius was prowling, handing him a letter on a silver tray. Julius plucked it up, turning it over and opening the seal. The young woman didn’t stick around to see his reaction, but scurried away through the door, practically slamming it behind her in her rush to be out of there.

  As the king read the letter, everything froze. His eyes flickered across the slender sheet of vellum, the color draining from his face, his lips curling more with every sentence he read. Reaching the end, Julius balled the card up and hurled it toward the table. Without Venus to help, there was nobody to quell the king’s temper.

  “You!” he roared, picking up a butter knife from the table and rushing at Alex. “You did this!”

  Alex tried to get up and back away as quickly as he could, but his foot caught on the chair leg, stalling his retreat. Julius ran at him, the knife raised.

  “What did I do, Your Royal Highness?” Alex asked, lifting his hands to protect himself from the blade. In Julius’s hands, even a butter knife seemed like a deadly weapon.

  The King tapped the blade against Alex’s arm. “You and your band of do-gooders have caused me another calamity!” he snarled, the spittle flying into Alex’s face. “I have just been informed that Stillwater House has been engulfed by the silver mist because there was no essence left in the pit. Nobody bothered to pour any down, and nobody bothered to tell me! It could have been avoided, Alex Webber, if one of you had simply spat it out!” He yanked Alex’s arms out of the way. “But this was your plan, wasn’t it? You thought you could keep it secret, just to aggravate me. Isn’t that right? Well, your little scheme worked—we found out too late, and several of my men have died because of it!” he bellowed, bringing the knife to Alex’s throat.

  “Your Royal Highness, I apologize for causing you more trouble,” Alex began calmly, trying not to feel the cold bite of the blade every time he spoke. “We didn’t know that would happen. We had friends there too,” he said, half lying.

  Julius paused, removing the blade slightly. “You had friends there?”

  Alex nodded. “Not everyone from Stillwater managed to escape. We had allies trapped there. If the mist engulfed Stillwater, then we have lost people too, Your Royal Highness,” he explained, hoping to appeal to some twisted sense of justice in the king’s moral code.

  “I hadn’t thought about that,” Julius mused, taking the knife away.

&n
bsp; “I know it is an inconvenience to you to have lost your men, but I am going to pay for the hassle I have caused you soon enough,” Alex added, pleased to see Julius’s face relaxing.

  The king took a step back, moving toward the head of the table again. “Indeed you are. I suppose a handful of men is a small price to pay, in the grand scheme of things,” he murmured, a smug expression on his face. Alex felt disgusted that the king could dismiss lives so easily—not that he was surprised in the slightest. “Go ahead then, get back to whatever it was you were doing. Quick as you can,” Julius instructed, pulling a small book out of one of his pockets and settling down to read it.

  As the minutes wore on into hours, however, the king grew more and more impatient, every look and sigh showing his annoyance at the length of time it was taking. Alex and Virgil had been at it for a long while, trying to iron out any kinks, though Virgil still refused to spill the beans on what he had planned. It irritated Alex deeply, but he knew he wasn’t going to get the skeletal man to break.

  The slam of a vial on the table interrupted their work, making them both jump. Through the glass, Alex could see blood sloshing around, ready to be utilized.

  “Hurry up!” Julius demanded. “Why is this taking so long?”

  Virgil spoke up. “We want to ensure we have everything right, Your Royal Highness. As you said, we don’t want any slip-ups this time.”

  “Well, do it quicker,” Julius barked, returning to his book.

  “Yes, Your Royal Highness,” said Virgil, turning to Alex with an apologetic expression upon his sunken face. It was clear they couldn’t stall anymore—the moment was upon them. “In fact, I believe we are ready to go,” he added. The king looked up in surprise.

  “Oh, you are? Excellent.” He pocketed his book. “Then gather your things and follow me,” he said, jumping up excitedly.

  Alex put the Book of Jupiter back in his satchel, while Virgil took up the fresh vial of blood. With that, they nodded for Julius to lead the way. Like the Pied Piper, the king practically danced down the hallways, knowing he was about to get the very thing he wanted the most—glory, at no cost to himself. Up and up he led them, until they reached a fairly innocuous-looking door. Pushing through it, he gestured for Alex and Virgil to step inside.

  It opened onto a small room with a bronze dome, speckled with glinting diamonds made to look like stars, bending above. There was a design etched into a gold plinth in the center, showing a ring with four dots, a gemstone marking each one, encircled by a larger ring containing five dots, though these no longer bore gemstones.

  All around the room stood portals, though most were blocked off. Crouched down beneath three of the still-working ones were two men, their magic flowing through the gateways, clearly trying to shut them down. The two that remained untouched, however, seemed to open out onto wide expanses of sky. No buildings or trees or ground, even, could be seen through them. Alex realized this was likely how Julius did his heavens-opening arrivals, but the thought of having to plummet through the air wasn’t exactly comforting. Besides, he didn’t have the same floating abilities that mages had. If he jumped through that portal, he knew he’d end up falling to his death.

  “Do you want us to go through these, Your Royal Highness?” Alex asked.

  “Why else would I have brought you here?” Julius sneered.

  Alex glanced at Virgil. “We’re going to have to do our whooshing travel thing,” he said, to which Virgil nodded.

  Julius grinned. “I don’t think so.” He chuckled coldly as two guards stepped up.

  Grabbing Alex roughly by the arm, one of the guards led him up to the lip of the chosen portal, gripping him hard as he stepped through. Alex was pulled along by the momentum. For a moment, the air rushed up to meet them, and Alex thought he was going to end up a squashed mess on the ground. But then things slowed, the guard holding Alex as he used his magical abilities to float down. A flurry of snowflakes fell from Alex’s arm where the guard was clutching him, but aside from that, they managed to soar downward and land with little difficulty.

  Brushing off the remaining flakes of snow, Alex looked around. He had seen where they were headed from the sky, and realized it was the only place that made sense. Falleaf remained the sole haven without any mist rising from it… for now, anyway.

  Virgil landed beside him, followed swiftly by Julius and a handful of extra guards. Once everyone had regrouped, they set off toward the pagoda, where Hadrian was standing at the main entrance, awaiting their arrival.

  The nervous royal gave Alex the subtlest of nods before turning to Julius.

  “Your Royal Highness, and guests, I welcome you to Falleaf House,” he said, the muscle in his cheek twitching with the effort it was taking him not to stammer. “Please, f-follow me.”

  With that, Hadrian led them up to the third floor, ushering them through into a wide gallery that reminded Alex of the one a few floors above, the tapestries shimmering with movement as the group walked past. At the end of the room, hidden away in a recess in the wall, stood a silver statue of an owl. Hadrian twisted its head, and a door slid back to reveal a staircase, the steps going all the way down beneath the earth. It was similar to one Alex had walked down before, in this very building, only this went even deeper. A door opened out onto a rough-hewn rock hallway, gut-wrenchingly familiar, with a set of looming gates ahead.

  The pit lay beyond, and with it, Alex’s fate.

  Chapter 27

  They entered the pit room, Virgil leading the way. Hadrian had remained above, standing beside the silver statue, promising to keep guard over the staircase. It all looked the same, the gold bird flapping slowly above the gaping mouth of the cavern.

  Julius entered last, stepping in with surprising tentativeness. An expression of uncertainty passed across the king’s face upon seeing the crevasse.

  “Where would you like to stand, Your Royal Highness?” Virgil asked, gesturing toward the solid boundary that surrounded the pit mouth.

  “I think over here, perhaps,” said Julius, moving toward the widest stretch of ground. Virgil followed him, opening out his hands as if to begin weaving a spell. The bristle of silver and gold, the Head’s particular brand of energy, rippled out over his skeletal hands, forming a swirling orb. However, the king paused beside the wall of the cave. “Yes… here, I think,” he said after a moment of silence.

  Virgil nodded and began to forge a barrier around the king and his guards, who had taken up position behind their royal leader. It swelled out across the small group, forming an almost liquid sheen between them and what lay below the earth, distorting their faces until it was like seeing someone through the thin film of a bubble.

  “It is complete, Your Royal Highness,” said Virgil. “The barrier will hold back any mist that might come, giving you the chance to escape, should you need to.”

  From the uncertain expression on his face, it was clear the king was having second thoughts. “Actually, perhaps I would be best outside the pit room? Yes… I think I will leave you to it, and wait for you on the other side. There’s no real need for me to be here, is there?” he asked, his stern voice overcompensating for the fear he evidently felt. Alex smiled—the pit tended to have that effect on people, and it was nice to see that even the king wasn’t immune.

  Virgil spread his hands. “But, Your Royal Highness, pardon my boldness, somebody will need to write a book about the undoing of the Great Evil, and what happened here today. If things go well, surely you will want to be the one to see it—to witness it, firsthand, and write the tome decreeing its destruction? I imagine it will truly be a moment that will live long in the memories of the people of our world,” he encouraged. “Who better to write a firsthand account than our great king? It will be your triumph, after all, should it succeed.”

  Julius eyed Virgil thoughtfully, and Alex frowned as he watched the scene play out. Whatever Virgil was up to, his powers of persuasion were proving just as impressive as his mother’s. Alex also no
ted the small team of soldiers behind Julius—if the king were to bow out now, they would see his weakness. Perhaps, if Julius waasn’t careful, news of his cowardice would spread.

  “I can see you are trying to regain my favor with blatant flattery,” Julius replied at last. “However, you are correct that I am the best person to record such an heroic tale. It must be well documented. It is a story that begs to be told.” He nodded to himself, as if it had been his idea all along. “How does that sit with you, Alex Webber? You may die today, but you will be immortalized in my book,” he chuckled, grinning in amusement.

  “I guess that is all any of us can ask for, Your Royal Highness,” Alex replied, though he was distracted by Virgil’s behavior. It wasn’t like the Head to be so insistent where his stepfather was concerned, yet here he was, daring to suggest something that scared the king. More than that, Julius appeared to have taken the bait.

  “Ha! Quite right, Alex Webber, quite right,” Julius mused. “With this book, I too shall be immortalized.”

  Alex held his tongue, wanting desperately to say that the king already was immortalized in the annals of history, playing the villain of the piece—the murderer of an entire race. With Alex’s death, the circle would close; there would be no true Spellbreakers left in the world. Julius’s initial vision of a cleansed magical world would come to fruition, at long last, and the thought made Alex sick.

  “Are you staying, then, Your Royal Highness?” Virgil asked. “If so, I shall make some final adjustments to the barrier, and then we can begin.”

  Julius nodded. “Yes, I shall stay, along with my guards,” he said, gesturing to the small squadron behind him. They exchanged nervous glances, evidently not sure what they’d signed up for. Alex felt sorry for them, dragged into something they had no say in. He wanted to hate them for assisting the king, but knew they were as helpless as he was. To fight back meant certain death.