The Keep
Page 27
Enraged, Alypia was in full swing now, spurred on by words she clearly didn’t want to hear. Fury flashed wildly in her pale eyes, her lips drawn back in a cruel sneer.
“You know how she died, don’t you—your Spellbreaker whore?” she gloated. “I saw it for myself, though I was only a child at the time. That sad, pathetic scream of her last hope being dashed, like her head upon the rock my father ended her tragic life with—after he’d torn everything from within her, naturally,” she muttered coldly, a devious smile upon her lips. Alex tried to squeeze his eyes shut against the mental image, but he couldn’t help but visualize the hideous scene.
“Don’t speak of her,” said Caius quietly, the torment clear in his golden eyes. As much as he currently wanted to dash Caius’s head against a rock, Alex couldn’t help but feel a twinge of pity.
“I will speak of whom I please,” Alypia remarked churlishly. “It was for the best though, wouldn’t you say? The world is a much better place without their sort—though, quite the last laugh, right? Needing one to end this mess we’re in—a fairly surprising turn of events, though I don’t doubt that monster knew exactly what he was doing, cackling in our faces the whole time, knowing what would come of it. You tell me he cared about my mother, and still went ahead and did that? I’d say you’ve lost whatever sanity you had in your old age, Uncle.”
Alex wondered if there might be some truth to Alypia’s words, but then recalled that it was unlikely Leander Wyvern even knew Venus was pregnant with what would become Virgil. The threat from Alypia’s father had been geared solely toward Alex’s ancestor, as far as he knew; there was no knowledge of Venus’s unfortunate state. How could there have been? There hadn’t been time, nor any hint of suspicion on Leander’s part, seeing as it was ordinarily impossible to create a hybrid such as Virgil. In that final, split-second decision, Alex guessed that all Leander had wanted to do was destroy the mages and save his progeny, not realizing the Great Evil could be held back by a tide of unwillingly given essence. In performing the spell, Alex suspected his ancestor had thought only of the unborn child he knew about, growing in the belly of a non-magical woman—the one hope of Spellbreaker survival. The loophole of an entire race. When thinking in the moment, there was no time for the thought of future consequences. Leander had done what he had with the best intentions—of that Alex was almost certain.
“It seems we have managed to get somewhat off track, dear Niece,” said Caius, an eerie calm returning to the old man’s voice. “I wanted a negotiation, not a trip down memory lane. You are here for Alex, and I want something in return—a simple exchange.”
Alypia smirked. “I will take him, if you are unwilling to cooperate.”
“Try to remember my strength, dear Niece. I may look old, but there is fire in the old goat yet—I could destroy you and your guards before your next breath, so I wouldn’t recommend trying to steal my property.”
This revelation seemed to shake Alypia’s resolve for a moment, her lip trembling for a fraction of second, just long enough to be seen. Shrugging off the trepidation, she launched into another offensive move, evidently smothering her fear with bravado.
“Family is family, Uncle, no matter what our differences are. I wouldn’t try to steal something from you, just as I know you wouldn’t try to steal from me. That boy belongs to me—he has a debt to pay, and I want him to pay it. If you don’t hand him over, there will be trouble,” she said, her voice dripping with malice.
Caius smirked. “Now, now, things don’t need to get nasty. I am willing to negotiate—I have already told you as much—but I refuse to simply hand the boy over. I need to hear what you will offer in return, for the trouble of keeping him, if nothing else.”
She shrugged languidly. “How does the glory of the mages restored to their full power sound? No more fear, no more culling of exceptional talent, no more scraping the barrel with those half-formed plebeians we fetch from the outer world. Finally, there will be no more worrying about where we’re going to get our essence, though it’d be a shame not to keep a few of the lower classes around, in case we need to borrow some essence for anything major,” she mused, prickling Alex’s anger. “The mages will be able to get on with their lives and do as they please, with no trace of Spellbreaker left. It will finish the job my father, your brother, set out to achieve. It will mean justice for my mother, after what that monster did. Those are the greatest returns I can offer, for the price of this boy.”
For a moment, Caius said and did nothing. Sitting in his chair, he remained perfectly still, a blank expression on his face, his eyes giving away no secrets, as he seemed to mull over what Alypia had just said. It was an unbearable wait, even though Alex had a feeling he knew what the answer would be.
Finally, Caius spoke. “That isn’t good enough.”
Alypia flashed him a look of disappointment, her tongue clicking in a crass tut-tut as she slowly shook her head in his direction. Alex could feel the tension growing even tauter between uncle and niece as they stared one another down, neither of them willing to shift the balance of their resolution. An immoveable force had met an immoveable object, and this could only end one way.
“Then you’re forcing my hand, Uncle,” Alypia hissed, her lips forming a petulant pout. “I came here today to give you the benefit of the doubt, hoping your time here might have changed something, but I can see you’re as stubborn and disrespectful of our kind as ever. I might have known, but I am warning you, if you don’t hand that boy over and give me what I want, I will send word to my father and make sure you pay a suitable price for your latest betrayal of our race. He is still your king, unless you had forgotten? You might not be so insolent toward him.”
With a reluctant sigh, Caius raised his palms in surrender. “Very well. You leave me no choice,” he murmured.
Alypia’s pale eyes widened in gleeful delight, clearly believing she was about to get what she wanted, thanks to the threat of her father’s involvement.
Caius stood, moved over to where Alex was sitting, and dragged him to his feet. “You’ll have to come and help me—if you’re going to get him through the portal, he’ll need sedating,” Caius explained.
She frowned. “What do you expect me to do?”
“You don’t want him running off, do you? Just come over here and help me hold him still,” Caius demanded.
“Fine,” muttered Alypia, as she came to where Alex was being forcibly held.
Out of the corner of his eye, Alex saw Caius dip into his pocket and pull out the small silver box. The warden handed it to Alypia, who took it tentatively, eyeing the object with some suspicion.
“Open it and take out the string inside,” Caius instructed.
Frowning, Alypia lifted the small silver lid. A bronze light sprang out of the tiny box, rushing at her face. It smothered her, pouring down her throat and running into her eyes. Alex leaned back instinctively, unable to look away. Alypia opened her mouth to scream, but the sound came out as more of a gurgle. Her eyes wide in horror, she sank to the floor.
Caius removed the handcuffs from Alex’s wrists and slapped them onto Alypia’s instead. Alex stood shakily, and, in the next instant, Caius guided him out of the room by the arm. Looking back over his shoulder, Alex could see Alypia still trembling on the ground.
Caius slammed the door shut and turned the key in the lock. There was no sound to be heard from within.
“My apologies,” the warden said solemnly, putting the keys back in his pocket.
“What the hell was that all about?” Alex snapped.
“It was the only way—”
Alex shook his head. “Why did you do that? I can’t believe you just did that!”
“I had to keep her here somehow,” Caius said, his expression utterly calm. “She kept insisting she was going to return to Stillwater, but I promised to find you and bring you to her if she would stay put and wait. I wanted to tell you my plan, but I couldn’t risk her detecting something amiss. And now she
’s trapped—as you planned.”
“Next time you want to use me as bait, you could just ask!” growled Alex. “What was that thing, anyway? The silver box?”
Caius gave a small smile. “A personal barrier. It works the same as the one around the keep, and it will stay until I remove it.”
Alex shuddered. “I can’t believe… I can’t believe you didn’t say a word.”
“She suspected nothing, and that is what matters.”
Alex eyed Caius intently. “So you don’t really want to kill me?”
“Of course not… Forgive me, my boy, I only did what I thought was right,” Caius said, leaning forward with his cane. “I hope you can forgive me for that.”
Right now, Alex didn’t know what to think. He just knew there was a portal open in the courtyard of the keep, and now nobody stood in its way.
Chapter 28
Caius seemed troubled as they parted ways, insisting that Alex not tell the others what he had done. It had been for the good of all, the warden said, to successfully capture Alypia without raising any alarms or causing undue fuss. As much as Alex wanted to tell his friends about Caius’s false betrayal, he agreed to keep the secret. The more Alex thought about it, the more he realized that it had probably been for the best. Still, it was a shock that would take some time to recover from.
Alex sat alone in the tower room, waiting for the others to return. Caius had suggested that Alex go back by himself, to seek a moment’s respite, while he went to inform the others of the new development in the proceedings. At first, Alex hadn’t been sure, but the earnestness in Caius’s voice had won him over; it seemed the warden was eager to show Alex he wasn’t all bad.
With nobody to distract him, Alex’s mind wandered to Alypia. He had questions that needed answering, and she might be his best source of information. He wanted to ask what she had intended to do with him, with regards to the counter-spell and Julius. It made him antsy to think that he might return to Stillwater House without having taken the opportunity to interrogate her.
Maybe I could go back while nobody is looking, see what she has to say for herself, he thought, moving toward the entrance of the tower.
“And where do you think you’re going?” a familiar voice purred.
Alex groaned as the shadows in the farthest corner above his head shifted, taking shape as the black vapors trickled down the masonry toward him. He had neither the time nor the energy to take part in a mud-slinging match with Elias, and he knew the shadow-man would be feeling particularly smug after swooping in to help him earlier.
“Not now,” Alex grumbled, squeezing his eyes shut in the futile hope that the appearing creature would leave him alone. As with everything Elias did, Alex was certain these surprise visits were purely to aggravate him.
“Sorry, kiddo, you can’t block me out,” Elias said. “Squeeze your eyes shut as tight as you like—I can wait longer than you can resist. You know me. Patience is my middle name.”
“Haven’t you already bothered me enough for one day?” Alex said sharply, still refusing to give his shadow-guide the satisfaction of his full attention.
“If you wish to be treated like a child, who am I to stand in your way?” Elias replied, adopting a babyish voice that was almost more annoying than his usual one. “Would little Alex like to see what Uncle Elias has brought for him? A giftie! Ooh, isn’t that exciting? Yes, it is. Isn’t Uncle Elias unbelievably handsome and generous and charming and… I could go on. I will, if you don’t open your eyes.”
Alex opened his eyes, immediately wanting to shut them again as he saw the smug, amused expression that shifted across Elias’s kaleidoscopic features.
“What do you want?” Alex frowned.
Elias tutted. “Now, now, that’s no way to speak to your personal postman, is it? I’ve brought you information.”
“About?”
“Well, if you must know, it relates to the counter-spell I told you about,” the shadow-man explained. “You know, no pressure, but the one you might have to do if you choose to go ahead with the reversal of what your great-great-great-great-great-great-great—”
“I get the picture,” Alex interrupted. “You have information about the spell that I may or may not decide to do.”
“That’s the gist of it… The spell is a complex one, not for the fainthearted or the illiterate—seriously, the thing is like a novel. It’s written in a great big, dusty old book, as these ancient things usually are, which can be found within the walls of Falleaf House, under the protection of a man named Hadrian. Not my favorite royal, I have to say—not nearly enough spice for my liking. Bit of a goody two-shoes. You’ve got a lot in common, now that I think about it. He’s just your type of person.”
“Doesn’t sound like a bad thing to me,” Alex remarked, trying not to take the bait.
Elias scoffed. “I suppose, if you like a liberal. Me, I find dictators and despots so much more colorful. Hadrian takes a different approach to his school than the overseers of Spellshadow or Stillwater. He actually seems to care deeply about his students, if you can believe such a thing.” He shuddered. “Saying that, he’s the Head most likely to help your cause instead of the royal cause.”
If Elias didn’t like Hadrian, then Alex figured he might just be worth meeting—though the idea of another sympathetic royal, in addition to Caius, was difficult for Alex to believe. And no matter what Elias said about Falleaf House, Alex couldn’t shake the image Professor Lintz had conjured of the place when recounting the tale of how he had arrived at Kingstone Keep. He had made it seem a hostile and dangerous land, rather than this pleasant utopia Elias was describing. Perhaps Elias simply wanted him to go there, in order to trick him. It didn’t make sense for Lintz to lie about it… But maybe Alex wouldn’t have to find out which version was the truth.
“Did you bring the book?” Alex asked.
Elias shook his head. “Afraid not, although I did try. It’s tucked away somewhere safe—somewhere even my deft paws can’t get at it. A veritable Fort Knox. If you want it, you’ll have to go and get it yourself, I’m sad to say. Usually, I love a game of spiriting things away, but this was beyond me. I couldn’t even get close.”
Alex felt a twinge of disappointment, although the thought of a place that Elias couldn’t access was both intriguing and concerning. More than that, he realized this information changed things slightly. Even if he didn’t want to do the spell, he understood that he might need to know it, especially if he wanted to force the Head to do it. If he could learn the spell and feed it into Virgil’s mind, getting him to say it and act it out with manipulated conviction, then he could escape an awful fate. He wondered what kind of protection this ancient book was under, and whether he’d even be up to the task of retrieving it, if Elias couldn’t.
This fresh news gave him a renewed sense of hope, despite his qualms. Yes, it meant they might have to change their plans, with Alex traveling to Falleaf House instead of going through Alypia’s portal to Stillwater, but he knew it would be better for them all in the long run, even if he had to face down unknown dangers. Surely, if Lintz had managed to sneak through Falleaf, Alex could sneak in? If he could do it, it would mean he might have found an actual, tangible way to destroy the Great Evil without having to do it himself. It would be more than a hypothesis. It would mean the ability to set everyone free from a life of pursuit and persecution.
Turning back to Elias, Alex wondered if this would be the last time he would see the shadow-man. What else could he possibly have to offer? As far as Alex could see, the wispy guide had done his job—there was surely nothing else of use that he could impart. If this was to be the last time Alex saw him, there were a few more things he wanted to know, but he knew Elias was not one for giving up secrets willingly. There was, however, one way he could try to find the answers he wanted.
Alex lunged for the shifting, shadowy creature, reaching for the galactic space where he thought Elias’s mind might be. A split second later,
he was feeding twisting strands of anti-magic into Elias’s kaleidoscopic form. Although the shadow-man wasn’t solid, Alex felt something connect on a spiritual level as memories began to race into his mind, flowing in a fast-moving torrent that Alex struggled to stop. Along the rushing tide of remembrance, however, Alex managed to pick out the scene that told him Elias was indeed responsible for what had happened to Ellabell. He watched in horror as the shadow creature swooped down upon her while she was walking innocently back to the tower room, snatching her from the corridor, apparently not so useless at controlling his faculties after all. He clutched her in grim, black claws as he staggered toward the mountain with her, pausing at the edge of the forest to rest before setting off again, soaring and stalling at sporadic intervals, his mind dead set on leaving her to the wolves and the elements. His hatred for the girl was palpable, and Alex looked on with disgust.
Anger coursed through him, tinting the silvery strands of his anti-magic with a bolt of red. The pulse of his fury threaded with the ethereal mist of Elias’s strange existence, and a piece of Elias’s hidden essence tore away, feeding backward through the strands of coiling anti-magic, carried along the blood that rushed through Alex’s veins, seeking out the edge of his soul.
With a roar that seemed to shake the very universe, Elias threw Alex from his mind. The piece of essence went with Alex, sinking into the very core of him with a searing hot bolt of pain. He could barely speak, the agony so intense he thought he might be dying. It wasn’t even clear what he had done, but he knew it couldn’t be good.
Elias gasped, his shifting features distorted in a twist of angry pain. “What have you done?” he cried, a flash of rage lighting up the black of his eyes, before he disappeared in a fragmented mist of shattered shadow and glittering dust.