The Spell Read online

  Alex leveled his gaze at Ceres, the tension so thick it would break any blade that tried to cut it. He knew that, in hindsight, there might have been easier options, but they were here now, and there was no changing that. Julius was coming—it was just a matter of when. If they were all going to survive his arrival, they were going to need each other.

  “Then I guess we’ll have to put up a fight,” he whispered, his gaze unwavering.

  Ceres gave a bitter smile. “What choice have you given us?” she muttered, echoing words he had heard her brother speak, barely a few hours before. “Who knows, maybe we’ve been hiding too long… Maybe it’s time something brought us out of our rabbit holes, to fight the wolf that put us here.” She crossed her arms with a sigh, her expression grim.

  Alex shuddered, feeling the presence of that very wolf sniffing them out as they spoke.

  Chapter 6

  They needed an army.

  Ceres informed Alex that she would be arranging a public meeting shortly, to ask the opinion of the survivors. Any who wanted to fight would be permitted to, and any who wanted to hide would be taken far from the camp to set up another somewhere safer, where Julius might not seek them out.

  With that decided, and Ceres in a decidedly less volatile mood, she showed the six friends to two spare tents, where they could rest and recuperate, though she insisted she take Virgil and lock him away where she could keep an eye on him.

  “The last thing we want is for him to sneak off and tell Julius everything,” she remarked, snapping her fingers to capture the attention of two Kelpie riders from earlier. They picked up Virgil, their muscled arms making the Head look lighter than a loaf of bread, and hauled him away.

  “When he wakes up, I might need to talk to him about the spell—” Alex began.

  “If you want to see him, come and find me first,” Ceres said with a glare, letting Alex know, once again, who was in charge.

  “Of course,” Alex murmured, before heading into the tent that had been designated for the boys.

  The tent was sparsely decorated, with a few roll-mats on the floor, a pile of motheaten blankets, and a couple of benches set up in a square around a central fire. It was here that Alex headed, lying flat on his back on one of the benches, staring up at the billowing yellow fabric of the roof. It had been a long day by anyone’s standards, and it still wasn’t over. Above all, he wanted to talk to Elias, but the shadow-man wasn’t offering his company.

  “I think your beastie has arrived!” exclaimed Jari, who was peering out of the tent flap.

  Alex sat up. “Huh?”

  “Your bird, dude. I think she’s arrived.” Jari grinned.

  Wearily, Alex wandered over to the spot where Jari stood, and looked out. There was a commotion up ahead, where a large crowd had gathered. Looking closer, Alex could make out the silky, striking silver feathers of Storm, and saw her beak snapping at over-curious hands.

  Alex smiled, pleased to see that she’d weathered the journey. Hurrying outside, he weaved through the crowd, heading toward the center, where she stood. Storm chirped when she saw him, and the crowd dispersed, whispering among themselves as Alex petted the creature on the side of her neck, as if she were any domestic animal.

  “You made it,” he whispered.

  She chirruped loudly.

  “I suppose we’d better put you somewhere safe,” he said, leading her through the crowd toward the tents where they were staying. There was a shady spot just behind, with a few low-hanging willows draping their leafy fronds across a sun-dappled expanse. “How’s this?” he asked.

  Storm dipped her head and gave a throaty coo of approval.

  Alex grinned. “Then I suppose I’ll leave you to it,” he said, watching as the Thunderbird moved off beneath the willow tree, where she hunkered down on her haunches and settled herself in the cool shade, like any nesting bird might. Resting her chin on her fluffy, feathered breast, her eyes closed, and soon, all that could be heard from beneath the willows was the soft cooing snore of a mighty Thunderbird. None of the crowd dared to follow her there, though some peered around the edge of the tent to catch a glimpse.

  Knowing she’d be safe enough, Alex returned to the tent. Jari and Aamir had gone off to explore the rest of the camp, so Alex was left alone with his thoughts. He took up his spot on the bench. This time, however, he didn’t lie down. Instead, he pulled the satchel from his shoulder and lifted the flap, pulling out the thick book inside. He almost hated the feel of it as he brought it out onto his lap. This was the thing that had caused them so much suffering, and yet they still needed it. He was just glad he’d had the foresight to snatch it up before they’d made a run for it; otherwise, they’d really be in trouble.

  Folding out the pages at the back, Alex forged a thin gauze of anti-magic and placed it over the glyphs, watching as they rearranged themselves into proper letters and sentences. Even now, the novelty had not quite worn off.

  He scanned the text to find what he had missed, to uncover what had caused the catastrophe at Spellshadow. However, as his eyes glanced down at the page, he got something of a surprise. Where, before, the lettering had been clear and easy to read, now the words had faded, the ink less bold, the wording harder to make out. It was like someone had left the pages out in the sun too long.

  “One failed attempt,” a voice whispered in his ear. Alex jumped, nearly dropping the book. Elias cackled as his wispy form floated onto the bench.

  Alex scowled and scooted as far away from the shadow-man as he was able. “Did you know this would happen?”

  Elias gave a careless shrug. “It’s rather obvious, isn’t it? If you fail again, the words will continue to fade. On the third and final try, the book will return itself to its cozy little home in the vault.”

  “But what went wrong? We missed something—how could we have missed something?” Alex ran a hand through his hair in frustration.

  Elias looked suddenly uncomfortable, his shadowy lips pursed, his galactic eyes shifty.

  “What do you know, Elias?” Alex asked, his tone accusatory.

  “Yogodarongblod,” Elias muttered.

  Alex blinked at him. “What?”

  “You got the wrong blood.”

  Alex turned sharply in the shadow-man’s direction. “The wrong blood?”

  Elias nodded his wispy head. “It had to be the blood of the ruler, the blood of the one who sits on the throne.”

  “And you didn’t think to say this sooner?” Alex growled.

  Elias held up two dark fronds. “Hey, don’t go blaming me! I didn’t know until the mist rose. Until that moment, I thought we were dandy.”

  Alex had been wracking his brains, and hadn’t even fathomed that the blood was the issue, until Elias had mentioned it. Now that it had been spoken aloud, it made complete sense. Venus’s blood wasn’t the same as the blood running in Julius’s veins, and his was the blood of the ruler. Venus, as his wife, had married into the title—she had not been born to it, as Julius was.

  “So we have to get our hands on the king’s blood,” Alex murmured.

  “If you can move close enough to the guy without him sucking the life out of you, yes,” Elias said, rather unhelpfully.

  Alex sat up straighter, struck with a sudden thought. “Well, we do have leverage—Venus.”

  “You may have his wife, but what exactly do you plan to do with her? I wouldn’t really consider Julius the deal-making sort,” Elias purred.

  “It’s our best shot—heck, it’s our only shot right now,” Alex said, pausing thoughtfully. “We could offer him his wife back in return for a vial of blood. Getting rid of the Great Evil is in his best interest, anyway. There’s no reason for him to refuse.”

  “I think you underestimate how much our dear king enjoys doing things on his own terms,” the shadow-man tutted, waggling a shadowy finger.

  Alex clutched the edge of the bench, trying to rein in his irritation. “Would you stop with the endless pessimism? Or at least of
fer up a better idea, if you’re going to be so critical about everything.”

  “What can I say? I’m a realist,” Elias replied blithely. “But don’t point the finger at me when it all goes awry. If you manage it, I’ll eat my own hat.”

  “You don’t have a hat,” Alex remarked.

  Elias grinned. “Precisely—that is how confident I am.”

  “Confident in my failure? How very uplifting of you, Elias. Remind me never to ask you to give a pep talk,” Alex muttered.

  “Well then, you’ll be pleased to know you’re about to get a brief reprieve from my glorious presence,” Elias said, smiling.

  Alex frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “Since you believe I am not pulling my own weight—not that I weigh a whole lot,” he cackled, “I have decided that a book hunt is long overdue. You require answers, and I shall seek them out. Should only take me a few days, perhaps longer… Depends what else I find on my travels,” he said, with a sly wink.

  “Why do you need books?” Alex asked, not quite following.

  Elias sighed. “After all this time, you still don’t see the glory of literature. Everything is in books—people can’t help but write things down. Every little thing. If someone has successfully done this spell before, even if it only happened once about a million years ago, I will find it, and I will figure out if there’s anything else you did wrong, or anything else you need to know, to ensure it doesn’t go wrong again. So, ciao for now, Alex Webber—don’t miss me too much!” he taunted. With that, the shadow-man disappeared in a swirling vortex, leaving Alex alone with his thoughts.

  Leaning his elbows on his knees, Alex was still trying to process his options when Aamir and Jari walked in wearing awkward smiles. Jari was munching on a handful of what looked like pecans, presumably found on his and Aamir’s exploration of the camp food stores.

  Alex gave an apologetic wave. “Have you been waiting outside the tent?”

  “We didn’t want to interrupt your chitchat. Sounded intense!” Jari said through a mouthful of snacks.

  “How much did you guys hear?” Alex asked, slightly embarrassed. Elias always made him feel like a petulant child, and he didn’t like to think of his friends seeing him as anything but calm and collected.

  “Only a little,” Aamir said, at the same time Jari announced, “Pretty much everything.”

  “Great,” Alex replied drily.

  “At least we know what needs to be done, right?” Aamir asked with an apologetic look.

  “Yep, just need to strike a deal with the devil,” Jari said. “Easy peasy.”

  Alex stood up. “Well, there’s one more thing I need to do, to make sure I haven’t overlooked anything important with the spell.” Even though Elias had gone to do just that, Alex couldn’t rely on the shadow-man being back in time, and, with Spellshadow exploding in a cloud of silver mist, they didn’t have the luxury of waiting anymore.

  Aamir raised an eyebrow. “You want to talk to Virgil?”

  As always, it surprised Alex how perceptive the older boy could be; he had assumed he hid his thoughts well, but it seemed he wore his heart on his sleeve more often than not.

  “Exactly. Virgil has gone through this four times now, counting our most recent failed attempt,” Alex said with a sigh. “So if anyone knows the pitfalls, or has any ideas, it’s him.”

  “I bet he’ll give you a hard time,” Jari commented. “I wouldn’t feel like talking to the person who hijacked my brain and almost got me killed. Although you could always just rummage around in his head if he doesn’t cooperate.” He waggled the fingers of his free hand.

  “We can come with you, if you’d like,” Aamir offered.

  “He might be more open to talking if it’s one-on-one,” Alex said, hoping that would be the case. Neither Jari nor Aamir seemed surprised at his response.

  “Have fun,” Jari said, flashing a peace sign.

  “And do let us know what you find out,” Aamir added with a knowing look.

  Alex promised he would and assured them that he would be back soon, although he knew he had a somewhat bad habit of leaving his friends out of the loop. He just didn’t want to drag them into making tough choices, not if he could spare them the mental anguish he was going through when it came to the counter-spell. This wasn’t exactly a “problem-shared, problem-halved” kind of event.

  If he wanted to talk to Virgil, he would first need to find Ceres. The vividly remembered image of her riding the Kelpie had also given him an idea.

  Heading out of the tent, he turned toward the spot where he had left Storm sleeping, and emerged between the narrow passageway that led between the girls’ tent and the boys’. Sitting on the low fence that ringed the back of the two makeshift shelters was Ceres, her one good eye gazing intently at the sleeping Thunderbird, who was nesting beneath the shadow of the willow trees, oblivious to her watcher. Ceres turned as Alex approached, a serene look on her face; it was an expression he hadn’t seen on her before, and it knocked him slightly off guard. He had been expecting the brutal, no-nonsense Ceres, but this one was different.

  “She’s something else.” The short-haired royal spoke first.

  Alex nodded. “She certainly is.”

  “Where did you find her?” Ceres’s attention moved back to the resting Thunderbird.

  “She found me,” Alex laughed, though her interest made him curious. “How did you find your Kelpies?”

  Ceres smiled. “Through a similar experience. They were thriving here when we arrived. I didn’t expect anything to be alive, and then there they were… beautiful creatures, just trotting around on the riverbanks.”

  “Aren’t they dangerous?” Alex asked, not sure he’d call those monstrous beasts beautiful. Imposing, perhaps, but not beautiful.

  “All wild things are dangerous, Alex. Your Thunderbird is dangerous, but she trusts you, and you trust her, and there is a partnership between you. People who don’t understand that unique bond would seek to domesticate her, but she should never be tamed. That’s where they went wrong, way back when—trying to domesticate creatures that should always be wild…” She trailed off wistfully, before snapping back toward Alex. “Anyway, what did you come out here for? Were you looking for me?”

  Alex nodded. “I need to speak with Virgil.”

  “I thought you might.” Ceres sighed. “Come with me. He should be awake by now.”

  Alex did as he was told, trailing Ceres through the encampment, walking past the curious eyes that watched them as they went. A few people whispered furtive words as he passed, though he tried hard not to hear what they were saying.

  “I hear he’s a Spellbreaker,” one muttered under their breath.

  “I hear he’s something else entirely—neither mage nor Spellbreaker,” another breathed.

  Before long, they had reached the outskirts of the camp, moving past the spot where Alex had landed on that first visit. Ceres was showing no signs of stopping, though she paused for the briefest moment at the edge of the riverbank before crossing over to the other side, wading through the knee-high water without hesitation. Alex followed, feeling the cold squelch of water in his shoes as he hurried up after her. They appeared to be keeping to a worn-out track that led along the perimeter of a gaudy poppy field, where the flowers bloomed in a variety of different shades, some unfurling blue petals, others showing off purple ones, with the occasional white flower popping up between the bolder variants.

  They came to a halt at what looked like an ancient windmill, though the sails had long since broken off into a heap of splintered wood at the base of the structure. Two sentries stood at either side of the entrance. They straightened to attention as Ceres approached.

  “How are the prisoners?” she asked.

  “One is asleep, one is awake,” said the sentry on the right.

  “Which is doing which?” Ceres enunciated.

  “The lady is asleep, the gentleman is awake,” said the sentry on the left.

&
nbsp; Ceres smiled. “Very good. Thank you. My friend and I are in need of an audience with the gentleman—we won’t be long.”

  The sentries opened the heavily bolted door and gestured for them to enter.

  Inside the windmill, the air was stagnant, though the floor was clean and the walls were devoid of grime. Sunlight shone in through thin, slit windows, pooling on the flagstones in two long rectangles that crossed in the center. Around the circular room were four large, heavy-duty cells, the iron bars reinforced with twisting vines of gray ivy, and the dull glow of a protection spell or two. Inside two of these cells were Virgil and Venus, though, upon closer inspection, it was clear that Venus was asleep in hers, breathing softly where she lay, curled up on a rather soft-looking mattress, a thick blanket tucked around her chin. Virgil, however, was not so quiet.

  “Not you again! Can’t I get a moment’s peace?” Virgil hissed, smacking the iron bars hard with the palms of his hands. “If you think you can make me do that spell again, you’re out of your mind,” he added, his expression furious.

  “Good to see you’re awake and ready to chat,” said Alex, more confident now that Virgil was behind bars.

  “I won’t do it, Webber,” Virgil retorted.

  “We got you out, remember? You’d be dead if it wasn’t for us,” Alex reminded him, recalling the way the silver mist had surged toward the Head and his magical half.

  “I almost died because you used me as a puppet, in a spell you were woefully unprepared for!” Virgil snapped back.

  Alex felt a surge of shame and annoyance at that statement, but he tried to keep his tone measured. He didn’t want to argue with the Head; he just wanted to talk.

  “And that’s why I’m here. That’s why I saved you. That’s why… That’s why I need your help, Virgil.”

  “I suppose he put you up to this too, looking at me with your doe eyes—or doe eye, I should say,” Virgil sniped, turning his attention to Ceres, but she seemed unruffled by his words. Instead, she simply stared at Virgil for a moment, something strange passing between them, his fury calming, before she opened her mouth to speak.