The Spell

by Bella Forrest

  Natalie was next, though her embrace was softer. She wrapped her arms around him, and he returned the gesture. “I am sorry I got you into this,” she whispered. “Jari is right—you are a true hero. For all the times I doubted you, please forgive me.”

  “There is nothing to forgive,” Alex said, letting her go.

  She turned her face quickly away, hurrying to where the boys were standing. Both Jari and Natalie leaned into Aamir, appearing to draw strength from his stoic demeanor, though the older boy’s face was undeniably sad. With a final, awkward wave, they left the solarium, two guards flanking them to escort the trio back to their chambers.

  Now alone, Ellabell stood up abruptly. “I should be going too,” she said.

  “Ellabell, you can’t go like this,” Alex insisted, reaching for her arm to prevent her from walking from the solarium, and out of his life forever. He could see she was already hardening herself against the pain and suffering that was to come, becoming colder in order to survive. The defiant expression on her face reminded him a little of Ceres, another woman forced to guard herself against emotion, to protect herself from the pain that would undoubtedly come.

  “I don’t think we have much more to say to one another.” Ellabell sighed, her eyes steely.

  “Come on, please don’t leave this way,” he said. “I don’t want this to be my last memory of you.”

  She smiled strangely. “Would you rather I was a mess on the floor, crying my eyes out, tearing out my hair, begging you to run, to hide, to do anything to get out of this? Would you rather I was clinging to you for dear life, wanting to change places with you, with every fiber of my being? Would you rather I fell into your arms like a damsel, and kissed you until the whole world faded away?” she asked, digging her nails ever harder into her palms.

  “No, Ellabell, I don’t want any of that,” Alex whispered, moving closer to her, though she took a step back. “I just want you to know that you are loved. I love you, and you will be there with me, when the moment comes, and for that I will be glad,” he said softly, reaching for her hands.

  “I love you too, but I can’t stay here giving you the sweet, loving goodbye you want. I won’t stay and be broken by the loss of you. Otherwise, I won’t make it,” she replied, squeezing his hands tightly for the briefest moment. No tears glittered in her blue eyes, and though she reached up to kiss him momentarily, it was a hard, cold kiss.

  The soft side of her seemed to be fading before his very eyes, and though he hated to think of her that way, so spiky and distant, he knew it would serve to pull her through the impact of his death. Many people would fall apart—even Natalie had been on the verge of tears—but Ellabell would not be broken by it. No, she would become stronger in the face of adversity, because that was what survivors did; they found strength they never knew existed. They adapted and they changed to match the cold world that met them.

  “I have to go,” she said, moving toward the entrance to the solarium. She turned back, her face an expressionless mask. “I wish you luck.”

  And with that, she was gone.

  Chapter 25

  Alex stayed in the solarium for a while longer, until one of the guards came in and told him it was time to leave. He went without a fuss, his mind full of Ellabell and his friends. Thinking of her, he felt troubled; he wanted to find her, to make her soft and sweet again, to take away everything that had made her heart turn to stone, but he knew he couldn’t. He had to hold onto the memories they’d shared, and hope they’d be enough to see him through the task that lay ahead.

  Once more, Alex arrived at the double doors of his bedroom and went inside, walking over to the edge of the bed, where he sat down, holding his head in his hands. It was lonelier than ever within the silent walls of his pretty prison.

  Before long, shadows began to trickle from the ceiling.

  Alex looked up, half glad, half exasperated that the shadow-man was arriving just when Alex needed company most. It wasn’t exactly great timing, considering the red rims around his eyes, which the vaporous man would no doubt comment on, but Alex was pleased not to be alone anymore.

  “They didn’t blast you back into the ether, then?” Alex asked as the shadow-man stretched into his full form, a yawn spreading from the cavern of his black mouth.

  Elias grinned. “Not this time. When one is a master of wriggling out of tight spots, one finds you can talk your way out of just about anything,” he explained, giving a low, dramatic bow. “Flashing a face of pure innocence doesn’t hurt, either,” he added, putting on his best naïve expression.

  Alex gave a half smile. “Glad you got out of it. I thought you were a goner for a moment there.”

  “Takes one to know one,” Elias retorted.

  “I take it you heard about my meeting with dear old Julius?”

  Elias gave a slow nod. “Oh, yes, I had a feeling it would go down like a granny on a frosty morning. That man gets ideas in his head and there is no shifting them. Who in their right mind turns down an offer from a much-loathed stepson to willingly take himself out of the picture? Honestly, if Virgil were my stepson, I’d have jumped at the chance,” he said, a hint of amusement in his strange voice.

  “Nope, it looks like I am the chosen one,” Alex said bitterly.

  “Hey, let’s not be getting ideas above our station,” Elias replied. “I’d say you’re more like the unlucky one in this scenario…” The shadow-man’s expression became briefly uncomfortable. “I am sorry it’s come to this, you know? As much as we’ve had our little frictions, you’ve grown on me—like an unsightly mole, or a rash, or the first few flecks of gray in one’s hair.”

  Alex wouldn’t give Elias the satisfaction of saying he’d grown on him too, especially given the actual scale of their “little frictions.” What Elias had done to Alex’s father had not been forgotten; it had simply been put on the backburner of his mind.

  “Wasn’t this the whole point of you being my guardian, though?” Alex asked, voicing something that had been bugging him for a long while. “Wasn’t this your objective, to find me and get me to do the spell?”

  Elias tilted his head from side to side. “Yes and no. Once we knew what you were, there was an element of that, but it was only ever supposed to be a voluntary act. I would never have made you do it, and with Virgil still around, I always hoped you’d make him suffer by getting him to do it instead, just like old times. It made my day when you said that was precisely what you had in mind—all my little drip-feeds paying off handsomely. Well, until they didn’t,” he said, gesturing at the room.

  “Why do you hate him so much?” Alex asked.

  “Actually, I don’t. We have somewhat buried the hatchet, in the brief interim since last we met,” Elias explained, shrugging with languid arms. “Well, I say that—we may have tied a ribbon on the fruit basket of our differences, but a lifetime of hatred is a tough thing to shift completely. I’ll always keep a little spot in my heart for my secret loathing of him,” the shadow-man chuckled.

  “I’m sure he has one for you too.” Alex sighed, incredulous of the idea of Elias and Virgil no longer at odds.

  “Hey, I never did anything to him. He was the guilty party in all of this,” said Elias, wafting his hands in front of his vaporous body. “I’d still be a solid man if it weren’t for Virgil’s idiocy. We were friends, back in the day. It wasn’t me who caused the rift.” He pouted.

  Alex smiled, pleased to have rattled the shadow-man. “Regardless, I’m sure you annoyed him enough to warrant whatever he did to you,” he teased.

  “I’ve a mind to show you precisely what he did,” Elias grumbled. “Instead, I shall bring you vague news, in the hopes it’ll exasperate you enough to satisfy me.”

  Alex frowned. “What news?”

  “Well, I stopped off by our old chum on the way, and we decided enough was enough, where our feud was concerned. But, we also had a little chat about you,” Elias began. “He’s got something up his sleeve—something to do
with what we were discussing when I got snapped away. I would show you the image again, but I don’t feel like pushing my luck. Anyway, Virgil has it all worked out. He has a plan, and he’s putting it into action as we speak, though he’s told me not to tell you,” he continued, putting on the voice of a petulant schoolchild. Alex felt as if Elias were about to say he couldn’t sit with him at the lunch table.

  “Elias, what did Virgil say? What is he planning?” Alex asked firmly, not in the mood for funny business. “Does it have something to do with the third person in the vision you showed?”

  “Maybe… Maybe not.” Elias sighed, stretching out his long, vaporous arms. “I can’t say any more on the subject. All you need to know is that it’s worked out.”

  Alex felt a wave of irritation prickle across his skin. He was tired of people keeping important information from him, yet again. Surely, if it was something to do with the spell, he had a right to know?

  “If I’m supposed to be the one doing this spell, shouldn’t I know if I’m missing something glaringly obvious?” Alex pressed.

  “Well, it can’t be that glaringly obvious if you haven’t figured it out,” Elias bit back, smiling sardonically.

  Alex glared at the shadow-man. “Elias!”

  “Okay, okay, I didn’t want to be the one to tell you this, but the reason Virgil has explicitly said you are not to be told, is because you can’t be trusted,” he said, holding up his misty hands in defense, though it was clear he was reveling in every second of Alex’s torment.

  Alex almost choked on the words. “I can’t be trusted?”

  “That’s what he said.” Elias shrugged. “Or perhaps he said it was to protect you, in case Julius tried to torture you, and you accidentally let something slip? I forget. This old mind is like a sieve—a great big, foggy sieve. It’s nothing bad, though. It’s just something he needs to keep secret. Or so he claims, anyway.”

  “And he told you all of this?” Alex pressed, still in disbelief over the idea of the two of them being buddies all of a sudden.

  Elias smirked. “Oh yes, he’s quite the chatterbox once you get him going. We discussed your upcoming task, and what happened in the throne room. He told me he’d come to you after, to speak with you, which I thought was a nice touch.” He sniggered. “Yes, he called to me, I was curious, and we spoke. There was tea and a quartet and unicorns too,” he said, with a wave of his shadowy fronds.

  “If both of you want me to succeed, I don’t understand why you won’t just tell me what it is Virgil has in mind,” Alex snapped, exasperated. “You almost told me yourself, before you got dragged back into the ether. Why not just tell me now? I won’t say anything.”

  “Can’t, shan’t, won’t,” said Elias petulantly.

  “This is ridiculous!” Alex was almost shouting now.

  Elias’s face grew stern. “I’m not the one making the rules, Alex. Virgil has asked me not to say anything, and I happen to agree with him, in this case. It is for your own good,” he insisted, his voice serious.

  “Then why even bother coming here to feed me these stupid, annoying little tidbits? You do it just to get under my skin, don’t you?” Alex was really going for it now. “You come here to flounce about and irritate the living hell out of me. That’s all this is—this is the Elias show! You just want to prove how amusing and witty you are, but you’re starting to grate on me. Actually, you started to grate on me a long time ago. What use are you, if you can’t tell me things that will be legitimately helpful to me?”

  Elias put up his hands. “I don’t want to start an argument, Alex. I just wanted to let you know that Virgil is coming up with something that will help you, but you can’t know about it. It is to protect you,” he reiterated, but Alex was having none of it.

  “Protect me? Don’t make me laugh,” Alex snarled. “Your whole purpose was to protect me, and look at the great job you did at that! I am going to die because of you, Elias. I am going to die because you didn’t do your job. I am going to die because none of you would tell me anything that could have prevented this. Everything that comes out of your mouth is worthless. It’s just vague, worthless crap!”

  “Alex, you should calm down,” Elias said softly.

  He shook his head. “I am way past the point where I need to calm down. I am sick of you! I am sick of this world! You think you can come and go as you please, without even asking if I want to see you. And then, and here’s the best part, you don’t even do anything useful! You’re a smug, self-centered ass, and you deserved what happened to you. I want you out of my sight!”

  “Alex, I am sorry… I didn’t mean to—” Elias began, but Alex cut him off sharply.

  “No, you never mean to do anything, do you?” he snapped. “I am so sick of you I don’t even have the words. If you have nothing useful to say, then GET OUT!”

  “I’m sorry, Alex,” said Elias, who was beginning to disappear up into the shadows in the corner of the room. “I’m trying to help. You will see…” His disembodied voice trailed off as his wispy form evaporated into nothingness.

  Alex stared up at the corner of the ceiling for a long time, wondering if the shadow-man was going to reappear, but as time wore on, Elias remained absent.

  It eventually began to plague Alex that they had parted on such bad terms. Yes, the shadow-man was annoying, but perhaps there had been something worthy in what Elias had been saying, and he’d just said it in the wrong way.

  Virgil was trying to protect him, but from what?

  There was nothing Alex could do to take back the words, and that made it worse. His mind raced with all the things he should have said, not only to Elias, but to everyone. Though they’d had their goodbyes, there hadn’t really been a proper farewell. They had spoken of memories and old days, but nobody had mentioned the elephant in the room—not really. Panic coursed through him, combined with a strange numbness, a dull dissatisfaction in the way he had parted with everyone. He was going to die, and there was so much he still wanted to say. More than that, there was so much he still wanted to do. He ought to have his whole life ahead of him, to indulge in all the things everyone else got to do and see, but that path was closed to him now.

  It was all too late. With so many goodbyes, Alex had a feeling that D-Day was coming much sooner than he was prepared for. Not that he could ever be prepared. Time was running out; he could hear the death knell sounding.

  Chapter 26

  Alex didn’t remember falling asleep, but the rough shove of hands stirred him abruptly from his brief slumber. Blinking awake, he saw Siren Mave loitering beside the bed, her gnarled hands shaking him into consciousness.

  “Ah, he’s alive,” she crowed.

  “What is it? Has something happened?” he asked, regaining his bearings.

  She shook her head. “No, nothing so dramatic,” she tutted. “The king has demanded another audience with you, that’s all.”

  Alex felt like snapping at her. That was all? The last time he’d met with Julius, it hadn’t exactly gone well for him. Still, he knew he couldn’t defy the king’s orders. If Julius wanted to meet with him again, so be it.

  “Why does he want to meet me?” Alex asked, getting down off the bed. The covers were still in place; it seemed he hadn’t managed to get under them.

  Siren Mave flashed him a withering look. “You think I know the inner workings of the king’s mind? I’m just the messenger, and if you don’t hurry yourself up, I will be in trouble,” she barked, rushing off to the wardrobe to pick out some clothes for him to wear. “He did say you were to bring the book, however,” she said, not bothering to turn as she pulled a dark gray three-piece suit out of the wardrobe and laid it out on the armchair by the fire.

  Alex frowned, both at the clothes and the request to bring the book. “I’m not wearing that,” he said firmly.

  Siren Mave sighed, smacking her overly painted lips together. “Just put it on and be happy I didn’t choose something flashier,” she instructed, pulling ou
t some shoes to go with it. “I’ll be outside—you have five minutes,” she added, before scuttling from the room.

  Reluctantly, Alex walked over to the clothes and put on the shirt and trousers, leaving the waistcoat, jacket, and tie she had put out. There was no way he was going to dress up for Julius again. Once he had the clothes on, he picked up the book and the mostly empty vial and shoved them into the depths of the satchel that still sat on the dining table. Slinging it over his shoulder, he went out into the hallway, where Siren Mave was waiting. She eyed him as if he were an unsavory vagrant who had just traipsed into her home, but Alex didn’t care.

  “Why do I even bother?” she mumbled to herself, before leading the way toward the spiral staircase.

  They had reached the halfway point when Siren Mave stopped and got off on the middle level, turning to ensure Alex was following. They walked down a long, beautifully decorated corridor, toward a door at the very end. It was here that she stopped, knocking lightly on the gold-and-cream door before hurrying away.

  “Come in!” Julius’s voice bellowed.

  Taking that as his cue, Alex pushed open the door and stepped inside. Beyond lay an enormous dining room, with a table longer than any Alex had ever seen running down the middle, capable of seating more than five hundred guests, by the looks of it. Painted on the ceiling was a fresco that reminded Alex of the Sistine Chapel, with gods and cherubs floating above, playing instruments and lounging upon clouds.

  Julius and Virgil sat up at the very top end of the table, with Julius at the head. Seeing just the two of them, Alex was a little anxious that Venus wasn’t there to offer her soothing influence. Still, that wasn’t what drew his attention.

  Laid out on the gleaming marble surface, a very civilized breakfast had been prepared. It looked delicious, the scent of sweet muffins wafting up from the table. Alex paused, wondering if this was some kind of last supper-type deal, especially as there seemed to be everything he liked spread out before him. They even had a stack of strawberry pancakes, just like the ones his mother used to make. The sight of them was almost more than he could bear, making him lose any remaining appetite he had been clinging onto.