The Breaker Read online

  Alex felt sympathy toward Professor Lintz. The man had to walk past the image of his younger self, day in, day out, hung up beside his brother-in-arms—painted at a time when they had still had their whole lives ahead of them, their minds still racing with madcap schemes of escape and a spark of hope. A hope that had sputtered out long ago, no doubt, a world away from the crumpled old man they had seen in the mechanics lab, tinkering away with his owl to take his mind off what had happened to his black-haired friend in the picture beside him. To walk past that reminder every day, that notice of their failure to escape… Alex could not imagine the suffering it brought to Lintz. He felt a flicker of guilt, mingled with curiosity, wondering what sort of friendship those two must have had. It had lasted all those years, stayed as they aged from mere boys to old men. A sense of dread, too, ran cold up his spine.

  If they couldn’t do it, after all that time, how can we? Alex pondered, his eyes glancing to Natalie and Jari, walking just ahead of him. Their hopes were hauntingly similar to those of Lintz and Derhin, with their eternal optimism of one day breaking free from the walls of the manor and returning to the lives they’d had before, to the families and friends and dreams they had once taken so utterly for granted.

  There was another portrait, down the line, just after the image of Lintz. The indent of a plaque remained at the bottom of the varnished frame, where the bronze had once been screwed in, but the plaque itself was missing. The figure sitting within the frame was familiar to Alex somehow, with a striking face and piercing brown eyes, dark hair combed neatly back. The man sat with a sense of pride and authority, a sardonic smile playing upon his lips. It certainly wasn’t Renmark or any of the others. Nor was it any of the statues buried deep in the crypt, or reminiscent of the Head or anyone Alex had seen in the manor. And yet the man looked irritatingly familiar.

  He would have stopped longer to look at the portrait, but the snake of light had disappeared around the corner, along with Natalie and Jari. Alex hurried after it, entering a broader corridor that stretched far into the distance, with doors on either side. The doors themselves were plain, boasting none of the elaborate etchings of the doors elsewhere in the manor, although some had small ceramic tiles hanging from the stonework beside them. On the tiles were different names and words, etched onto the smooth white enamel with black paint, perfectly curled into cursive lettering by a deft hand. They passed tiles which said Common Room, Library, Kitchen, Storage Cupboard—all the usual dull necessities—spread out at the bottom end of the corridor.

  Alex wanted to pause the group for a moment and duck quickly into the library, to see if they might get their hands on any contraband books, but he guessed what Jari’s response might be. Their goal was Aamir; he could check out the library on the way back, when their objective wasn’t quite so pressing. Still, Alex felt a pang of regret as they slipped swiftly past it.

  As they moved farther along, careful to listen for voices coming from any of the communal areas, the tiles grew more personal. Natalie paused beside one tile with an anxious look on her face, barely visible in the hazy glow of the light-snake. On it were written the words Professor A. Nagi.

  “Do you think this might be it?” Alex joked, trying to lighten the mood.

  “Do you think we should knock?” Natalie asked, lifting her hand.

  “No way,” said Jari. He pushed forward, turned the handle, and stepped boldly into the room beyond.

  Aamir stood near the door, his shoulders hunched as he examined an array of belongings laid out neatly on the bed in front of him—pants, shirts, socks, underwear. A black leather bag sat to one side, open.

  When Aamir turned, his face morphed into a mask of horror as he saw them standing there, smiling at him with innocent joy on their faces. Alex closed the door behind them, and Aamir observed the trio with a flustered look of fear.

  “What are you doing here?” he gasped, his voice tight with anxiety. “You shouldn’t be here—you need to leave, right now.” Aamir took Jari by the shoulders and ushered him toward the open door.

  “We came to see if you were all right,” Jari explained sullenly, resisting Aamir as he pushed him toward the door.

  “You can’t be here! You need to leave. You need to go. Now!” Aamir pleaded, diving for the door handle and opening it wide. He shoved them roughly through, back into the corridor, pressing a finger to his lips as they stood out in the darkness. He paused, listening intently to the silence. “You shouldn’t have come—you really shouldn’t have come,” he whispered, his voice dripping with terror.

  “We wanted to make sure you were okay… Jari told us what happened,” Natalie tried to explain, but Aamir was restless, his eyes scanning the shadows, his neck jerking backward in sharp motions as he glanced anxiously over his shoulder.

  “You need to leave,” Aamir murmured again. “Come with me—you need to go. You really shouldn’t have come here.” He took hold of Jari’s arm and set off down the corridor with the rest in tow. Beneath his palm, he held the dim glow of a ball of magic, casting a faint light as they walked.

  “We came for you,” Jari repeated, his face crumpling at his friend’s disinterest.

  “I know… but you shouldn’t have.” Aamir shook his head, picking up the pace as he strode onwards, obviously hell-bent on getting them out of the teachers’ quarters as quickly as possible.

  “If it’s the curfew, then we’re ready for that,” Jari told him as he struggled against the pull of the older boy’s strength.

  “It’s not the curfew. You just—” Aamir began, but Jari cut him off sharply.

  “We shouldn’t have come. I think we’re starting to get the picture,” he snapped.

  As they passed the door with Library written beside it, Alex muttered his annoyance under his breath, wishing he had just made them stop for a second to have a look. It might not have been a wasted trip, then, he figured—they might have found something useful. Silently, he wondered if that was where the missing books were kept. Perhaps the censored gaps in the library’s index were hoarded within the teachers’ private library, giving them information students weren’t permitted.

  Looking at his friend-turned-professor, a sour thought popped into Alex’s head. Aamir probably knew, now, about the inner workings of the manor, everything inside and outside of it. How much knowledge did their friend have, held back by that glimmering band around his wrist? Alex couldn’t help but feel a touch resentful toward the new professor and the secrets at his disposal. For a brief moment, even knowing it was unlikely and unfriendly, Alex couldn’t help but think that, perhaps, Aamir hadn’t wanted Alex to try to remove the band because he didn’t want to share his secrets. Alex pushed the thought away, knowing it was bitter and unfair, as he followed Aamir through the hallways, past the stern gallery of former and current teachers.

  A figure stepped out into the light, blocking their path.

  “And just what do you think you’re up to, after curfew, in the teachers’ quarters?” roared Renmark in his unmistakable growl, his eyes sinister in the pale glow of Aamir’s feeble light.

  “I had some personal matters to discuss with these students, Professor Renmark,” Aamir said swiftly. “I asked them to my chambers, as they required some extra tutoring. We went on later than I anticipated, and I am just returning them now, to ensure they don’t get into any trouble. It was entirely my fault.”

  “I know you’re new here, Nagi, and you haven’t quite gotten into your head how things work—despite being told time after time—but that doesn’t mean you get to bend the rules to your liking. This is simply unacceptable. The Head might turn a blind eye to it, but I won’t,” Renmark said, eyeing Aamir with the look of someone who had just stepped in something unpleasant. “You want to provide extra tutoring, you do it in your classroom or study hall—you do not bring students into our personal quarters whenever you feel like it. We come here to get away from students, not be followed around by them. Is that clear, Nagi?”

  The
re was a strong animosity between the young new teacher and the seasoned professor, Renmark visibly displeased with the manner in which Aamir had forced his way onto the faculty. After so long with the same lineup of teachers, Alex imagined it hadn’t been an easy pill to swallow—to see Derhin replaced with some young upstart, especially one who seemed favored by the Head, at least initially.

  Aamir tensed, a flash of anger passing across his eyes, as he leveled his gaze at Renmark. Touching Aamir’s arm lightly, Natalie stepped forward, the dim glow of Aamir’s magic glancing across her pale skin, revealing more of her face in the warm light.

  “I am truly sorry, Professor Renmark. It was simply an opportunity to learn, and the time got away from us,” she explained gently, her eyes wide with sincerity.

  “Ah, Natalie—I didn’t see you there,” said Renmark, a puzzled look creasing his brow. “Well… be on your way, then, and be quick about it. Don’t let it happen again,” he added, his tone softening.

  “Of course, Professor Renmark,” Aamir spoke tersely. He skirted around Renmark, the others following quickly behind.

  A melancholy air hung around the four friends as they slowly made their way down the corridors, toward the blue line at the entrance to the quarters, which was still broken at both ends. Nobody was willing to speak as the silence stretched unbearably, peppered only by the scuff of Aamir’s feet on the stone and the soft pad of the others’ socks. Aamir’s gaze was always forward, never looking down at Jari or back at Natalie and Alex as he led them closer to where the blue line had lain, buzzing and crackling. It seemed to Alex that Aamir was beyond their help, his face fearful, his eyes constantly looking over his shoulder.

  Aamir’s urgency was palpable as he moved them over to the other side and knelt on the ground, before the broken barrier. Hurriedly, he began to repair it with his magic, the golden energy flowing from his palms and into the shattered ends of the line.

  “I need to fix this before anyone else notices,” Aamir whispered. “If someone were to see it, they would suspect a student and start a witch hunt.”

  "Sorry,” Alex said. “I would’ve fixed it myself if I could.”

  “It’s fine. You must—” Aamir made a choking noise. He lifted his gaze up to his trio of friends, a wide look of anguish in his eyes as he slowly began to mouth something. Alex felt a prickle of fear shiver through him as he understood the unmistakable shape of the words:

  “He knows.”

  As soon as the words had silently slipped from Aamir’s mouth, his body doubled up in an instant burst of agony. He crumpled sideways onto the hard stone floor, clutching desperately at his stomach and raking at his lungs, as if the air was being squeezed from them by the pain. Aamir’s face twisted, and his eyes bulged, his cheeks turning purple. He clawed at his throat, his breath coming in short, painful-sounding rasps, as he convulsed on the floor in untold agony—the golden line on his wrist exacting its punishment for his whispered warning.

  The blue line was back in place, bursting into life, preventing the others from running over and helping their friend.

  “Aamir!” Jari cried out in panic.

  Alex skidded to the floor to place his hands on the sapphire pulse of energy, but Aamir raised a desperate hand against his attempts, shaking his head as the veins popped and strained beneath his neck, begging him not to. They watched, helpless, as Aamir writhed against the savage bite of the golden band.

  “Go! Go!” Aamir commanded over and over, his voice frantic and thick with the pain.

  Grabbing Jari and pulling him back, Alex retreated with Natalie. Tears prickled Alex’s eyes at the sight of his friend’s suffering, knowing he could do nothing. Aamir’s mouthed words haunted them from the shadows as they turned and ran, his tortured cries ringing in their ears.

  It was the Head. The Head knew.

  Chapter 10

  Alex had lain awake long after they had returned to their dorm, and when dawn arrived, he realized he hadn’t slept a wink. Across the room, he knew Jari had been the same, the boy uncharacteristically silent. Alex had spent the night staring up at the ceiling, his mind racing with the events of the night before, stirring up visions each time he had closed his eyes, a cold sweat trickling down his back and across his brow. Aamir’s mouthed words had played again and again, on endless repeat, making sleep impossible.

  How much does the Head know? was all Alex could think, his heart racing along with his mind as he envisioned the skeletal creature beneath the hood grasping for him, wanting to destroy the Spellbreaker history coiled up inside him.

  Unable to stay in bed any longer, Alex sat up and rubbed his itchy eyes. Jari sat up too, and a look passed between them. Aamir’s unmade bed drew their eyes, and Alex thought he saw Jari shiver as he turned his gaze away. The sound of Aamir’s cries, echoing behind them, had been a disturbing one, and Jari certainly looked haunted. His face was drawn, dark circles shadowing the skin under his red-tinged eyes, his shoulders slumped.

  The two spoke very little as they dragged themselves out of bed and dressed quickly, wandering dozily toward the mess hall to attempt to eat a quick breakfast before the trials of the day. Alex was on edge and couldn’t help but imagine the Head breaking down the doors at any moment and dragging him to the room with the manacles that dangled from the ceiling.

  Alex and Jari walked into the mess hall, expecting the usual buzz of morning activity, only to be met with a low hum of curious gossip. Natalie marched over to them, looking just as worn out as they felt, her eyes bloodshot and her skin far paler than normal. Nobody paid the trio any mind, their gazes distracted by the far wall, where an enormous noticeboard had been erected against the stonework. On it was a long list of announcements written on the black background in curling white chalk. The three friends stepped closer to get a better view of what was written there, joining the small crowd already gathered in front of it.

  The first bullet point read that graduation had been cancelled, causing a few students to smile with relief, giving a quiet whoop as they patted each other on the back.

  The next statement announced that Professor Nagi would be on temporary hiatus from the school while he worked with both Heads in pursuit of new student recruitment. Alex, Natalie, and Jari looked at one another in alarm. There was, at least, some comfort to be found in the word ‘temporary’—a certain promise that Aamir would be returned to them, at some point down the line. There was little comfort to be found, however, in the rest of the sentence, as it brought to light some meaning in what Aamir had mouthed to them the night before.

  The Head knows about Finder’s death, Alex thought. That has to be what the Head knows. Alex didn’t think the Head knew specifically that it was he who had disposed of Finder, but he knew the Head was onto something. The statement seemed intended to keep the students believing nothing had changed. To mention ‘both Heads’ kept the secret of Finder’s disappearance from the curiosity of the other students, reminding them of the potency of their leaders, but Alex couldn’t shake the feeling of what it meant to him.

  The Head knew. That was the crux of it. He knew, but he didn’t want the truth to spread, though Alex guessed the Head must have known the perpetrators would see the statement and know it to be a lie. There was only one Head now, and they would have to wait and see if any vengeance would follow.

  A ripple of quiet surprise spread across the rest of the students at this revelation. Nobody could remember a time when the Head had left the premises before. It was well known that the mysterious, invisible ‘Finder’—the second Head—was the only one to venture outside the manor walls, in pursuit of new students. Though none of them had ever seen him, save for Alex and his anti-magical capabilities, everyone had seen the gate open and close, and the misty-eyed, hypnotized students he had brought through. The students of Spellshadow were proof enough of Finder’s existence, but his sudden departure with the Head spurred both alarm and curiosity in the other students. It had never been done before, as far as any of them
knew.

  The students wondered what the reasoning might have been. Suggestions traveled around the mess hall in a haphazard game of ‘telephone’, all of them asking the same question: What was important enough to call both Heads away, with a teacher in tow?

  Another note on the board explained that Professor Nagi’s classes were to be covered equally by Professor Renmark and Professor Gaze, which caused a quiet groan amongst the gathered pupils—nobody wanted extra classes with Renmark.

  The announcements grew worse as the list progressed. In the Heads’ absence, a new curfew of nine p.m. sharp was to be introduced. The message stated that if anyone was caught out of their rooms after such a time, they would be subjected to severe punishments. It didn’t elaborate, but the students could guess well enough.

  Any former buzz of excitement had turned into an anxious ball of tension as the list went on and on, adding more and more rules to an already extensive list.

  There would be an extra lesson put in place, after the evening meal, to prevent any lax behavior before bed, a time that ought to be used solely for study. Evenings were to be spent asleep, in the library, or in study hall—there were to be no alternative options. It also stated that students were strictly forbidden from spending their leisure time—what remained of it, anyway—on the manor grounds, as fresh air was to be taken within the lunch hour only, or not at all.

  Beneath that was a warning that failure to attend lessons would lead to the same ‘severe punishments’, and tardiness would not be tolerated, under any circumstances. All of it seemed cruel and relentless, snatching away the final snippets of freedom they had clung to.