The Secret of Spellshadow Manor 4: The Keep

by Bella Forrest

  Alex raised his hands. “Guys, it’s me! I’m not in any danger. There’s nobody coming to get me,” he fibbed, wanting to calm them down. “I’m already safe, remember? We have a plan—we’re supposed to be getting Alypia. She’s just over there, look. Come on, guys, come back to me. Fight it—it’s just the barrier playing tricks with you. You can fight this, I know you can,” he pleaded, but it made no difference.

  He stepped forward, toward Jari, who was the closest to him. The blond-haired boy pulled away from Alex’s hands just in time, preventing Alex from reaching his head and restoring his mental faculties. The action seemed to trigger something, as the group darted toward Alex and seized him roughly, shoving him toward one of the open cell doors. Before he could conjure anything, they had shunted him into the cell and slammed the door behind him. A moment later, Alex heard the jangle of keys as Demeter locked him in for good.

  Alex lunged for the handle, but it was no good—it wouldn’t open. Peering through the grate, he watched his friends drag a table in front of the door, and banged hard on the wood as they came near.

  “LET ME OUT!” he yelled.

  Alex pressed his palms against the door and fed his anti-magic toward the lock, but the barrier seemed as if it was already sensitive to attack, and his attempts at breaking free only served to strengthen the fog, causing a second wave to surge from the walls. He removed his hands as quickly as he could, but it wasn’t quick enough. More red fog rolled from the masonry, pouring straight through him, not affecting him in the same way as his friends, though he felt a familiar spike of anger as it traveled through his body, aggravating his emotions, heightening them. The glistening fog rushed out, through the door, layering more paranoia into his friends’ minds. He could do nothing but watch through the bars as their bodies shook and their eyes glowed, the fog taking over entirely. The spasming ceased, and it was then Alex heard the screams he had been expecting.

  “LET ME OUT!” he shouted again.

  “It’s for your own good! There are monsters, Alex!” He could hear Ellabell’s muffled voice through the thick wood. She was just on the other side, crouching by the floor. “They want to devour you, they want to put you on an altar and rip out your heart, but we won’t let them—you’ll be safe in there!”

  “Ellabell, please, it’s not real—let me out of here and I will help you!” Alex begged.

  “That’s what they told me you’d say,” she said quietly. “They want me to let you out so they can have you for their own. I won’t do it. I’ll keep you safe.”

  “ELLABELL! Let me out!”

  “Don’t do it, Ellabell. It’s what the demons want!” Jari’s voice joined the conversation. “Come on, we need to chase them away.”

  “Don’t go!” Alex yelled.

  “I’m sorry… It’s for your own good,” she whispered, barely audible through the door.

  Alex could only watch as they disappeared from sight, darting down branching hallways. Then they were all gone, leaving the hall beyond in silence. Alex banged louder on the door in the futile hope that they might return, but as the minutes ticked past and his fist grew swollen with bruising, he realized they really weren’t coming back. His friends were out there, running through the prison, and he worried about where they would end up. He tried the lock again—presuming the red fog could do no worse damage—but was met by a scuttling sound that rushed toward the mechanism, followed by a sharp electric shock that surged up his arm, jolting his hand away from the door. There was something keeping watch over it, preventing his anti-magic from working on the lock.

  Casting a wide-eyed glance down, he saw a beetle, its antenna poised to shock him again. He didn’t know what Lintz had done to it, but it was making any chance of escape even more difficult. His friends were wandering through a dangerous place, and Alypia could overcome the fog and come for him at any moment. It didn’t seem like Caius was going to show up, either. He had to find a way out.

  There was no window, and the room was too small and confined for teleportation; he didn’t want to end up splattered against the ground, his legs in one place, his torso in another.

  With dawning realization, Alex knew there was only one person who could get him out of this scrape quickly.

  “Person” isn’t quite right, Alex thought grimly, hating that necessity had brought him to the conclusion it had. Gritting his teeth, he closed his eyes and spoke the name, resenting the sound as it escaped his lips.

  “Elias,” he whispered.

  Chapter 24

  The rafters above Alex’s head were swathed in shadow, and his eyes lingered upon the darkness there as he waited for the vaporous troublemaker to arrive. It was bad enough that Alex had been forced to call him, but to have to wait as well… Alex’s patience was already growing thin.

  “Elias?” he said sharply.

  At the second request, the shadows shifted, taking shape as a familiar figure poured from the ceiling. With a soft whisper of air, Elias landed on all fours, taking the crackling form of his feline self.

  “You rang?” Elias purred, fangs flashing as he brushed up against the stone wall, scratching a misty itch.

  “You took your time,” Alex remarked bitterly, although he was a little surprised that the shadow-man had actually come when called. “Feeling sheepish, are we?”

  Elias smirked, despite his form. “Not quite—I’d say more catty. Careful of my tongue. It’s sharp today.”

  “If I hear a single note I don’t like on that sharp tongue of yours, or a flash of any cattiness whatsoever, I will not repeat this,” Alex warned, gesturing between them.

  A strange look shifted across Elias’s feline face. With a whoosh, he swirled upward into his semi-human form, still crackling from the effects of the barrier magic, as if tuning in to a distant television station. The stars moved in his eyes, flowing over the shadowy lids, trickling down to meet the galaxies that fluctuated in kaleidoscopic patterns across his features. Alex imagined he saw a sun exploding in a burst of glittering silver light just above the darkness where Elias’s heart ought to have been.

  “No cattiness of any sort,” Elias said, with unexpected solemnity. “Though I must say, I wasn’t expecting to hear your dulcet tones beckoning me so soon, not after the way you flounced—sorry, departed—our company the other day. Understandable, certainly, and I was pleasantly surprised to hear your call. As you well know, I’m not normally one for doing as I’m told, but I can make an exception for you.” His vaporous hand twisted as he gestured toward Alex, and though he hadn’t quite lost all his usual sardonic humor, Alex could see the shadow-man was making attempts to tone it down.

  A true challenge for you, Alex thought wryly.

  “I wouldn’t have called if I weren’t desperate,” Alex retorted.

  “Ouch.” Elias feigned a wince, clasping his misty hands to his cavernous chest.

  Alex raised an eyebrow. “You can go, if you want.”

  “Can I?” Elias taunted, a knowing smile stretching the shifting shadows around his mouth. Alex realized they were at something of an impasse; he couldn’t just let Elias leave without opening the door, and yet he didn’t want to seem as if he truly needed him.

  “There’s a beetle stopping me from unlocking the door. I need to get out so I can deal with Alypia, and find my friends,” he said, not meeting Elias’s gaze. “I would like you to unlock it.”

  “I would like a castle of my own, a supermodel wife, a mountain of cash—perhaps an actual body that doesn’t keep trying to escape. But sadly we don’t always get the things we would like,” Elias replied. “I’m afraid it’s a no can do—these were not made for unpicking locks.” He flapped his vaporous hands at Alex.

  It became clear that neither he nor Elias was going anywhere, and nothing was more frustrating. If Alex had known his former guide couldn’t do anything, he would never have called him down from his dark bower. Now, not only was Alex locked away, unable to help friends who might be in a world of danger,
but he had to endure Elias’s sarcastic company.

  “You really can’t do anything?” Alex asked. If Elias could be of no help, he could do nothing but wait.

  Elias lifted the peaks of his shadowy shoulders in a half-hearted shrug. “It would appear not. Looks like it’s just the two of us.” He grinned, humming a familiar tune that seemed to echo in the peculiarity of whatever served as his throat. Alex had to wonder if this was exactly what the shadow-man wanted—a private audience.

  “No humming.” Alex glared.

  “How about a song? We could duet.”

  “No singing, no humming—you’re distracting me!” Alex snapped, trying to think of what other options he had.

  Elias raised his hazy palms. “Temper, temper! My apologies, Webber. I was only suggesting amusing pastimes to make the time tick by all the quicker.” A smirk undermined his apology. “Though you always did have trouble with focus.”

  “One more word, and I swear I’ll blow you out of this cell.” Alex jabbed a finger in the direction of the shadow-guide’s wispy mouth.

  “I’d like to see you try,” Elias muttered.

  “What was that?”

  “Nothing—not a word, not a peep.”

  “Good,” Alex grumbled. “Seeing as I’m not getting rid of you anytime soon, I do have a couple of questions.”

  “Ooh, I love a Q and A, don’t you?” Elias purred.

  Alex rolled his eyes. “Can we keep the sass to a minimum?”

  “Never.” Elias grinned.

  Alex sighed. “Well, I met with Caius, and he shed some light on why these royals seem to want me,” he said, watching Elias’s face for any hint of guilt or panic. “It seems I can be of some use to them, thanks to the blood running through my veins.”

  “Well, the anti-magic,” Elias quipped.

  Alex frowned. “Is that what you wanted all along, for me to learn about my ‘purpose’ without you having to get your hands dirty?”

  Elias exhaled, all pretense dissipating. “I couldn’t tell you,” he replied, a hint of sadness in his voice. “Many times, I thought about damning the consequences, but that hasn’t exactly worked in my favor up to now. Whenever I try to tell the full truth, well, let’s just say someone shuts my trap for me. I only get a few strikes and then… well, I’m out. Gone. Done. I’m just about down to my last one, if memory serves.” Finally, the shadow-man had the decency to look sheepish.

  Alex thought of what had happened to Elias in the cell, when he had disappeared in a snap of light. As Siren Mave had said, it seemed that his “guardians” could only tell him the answers when the right questions were asked.

  “So it’s up to me to perform the counter-spell?” Alex asked.

  Elias said nothing, refusing to lift his black, star-spangled eyes in Alex’s direction. It infuriated Alex to see the shadowy creature still so reticent, even now, when just about all of the secrets Alex could imagine were out on the table.

  “Can Virgil do it?” Alex pressed, the name still sounding utterly alien.

  Elias sniggered. “Name doesn’t fit him, does it?”

  “Can he do it?” Alex repeated. “Can he do the spell and rid the magical world of the Great Evil? If there’s a chance it doesn’t have to be me, I’d like to hear about it,” Alex snapped, losing his already tested patience.

  Elias lifted his wispy chin, finally looking Alex in the eye. Alex had forgotten how intense the galactic stare could be, when directed entirely at him. Still, he refused to sever the connection. At long last, he felt as if he were about to get a straight answer. Elias sighed, as if a weight had been lifted from his weightless shoulders, making Alex believe he must be asking the right questions, finally.

  “In theory, our wizened friend Virgil should be able to do it, though I should warn you that all his previous attempts have failed, and he hasn’t tried it again for several decades. Not that that means much—I think he deliberately threw his endeavors, wanting to make it look like he wasn’t capable. A pretty cowardly move, considering most of the royals think he’s utterly useless, particularly his apparent step-father. But at least he got to keep his life. Saying that, there is always the slim chance that he was telling the truth and he just can’t do it, even if he gave it proper gusto. Looking at him, I wouldn’t rule it out.” He smirked.

  “Could he be made to do it again?”

  “You’d be better off getting a giraffe to try,” Elias quipped. “Nothing will get that wormy creature to do it again, aside from a king’s command, but that won’t come again anytime soon. It’s probably why he’s so intent on handing you over like a bicycle on Christmas morning. The last attempt was something of a drama, and I don’t think anyone is ready to repeat that fiasco. I think the wails could be heard from here—in fact, if you listen hard enough, I think you can still hear them… Simple answer: he won’t do it again unless somebody makes him.” This made Alex curious, seeing as that was exactly what he wanted to do.

  “Wait, so how do you know I can do the counter-spell?” Alex asked, expecting a suitably vague answer. Instead, Elias came straight out with it.

  “I’m sorry to say it, but you’ve got the stuff, kiddo,” he replied, glancing down at his non-existent feet. “It’s like an aura around you—I can see it, feel it, sense it. You’re lit up like a big silver Christmas tree. With our friend Virgil, it’s not so clear. He’s like one of those tiny plastic trees made out of tinsel that just look sad, stuffed on a shelf and forgotten about. The energy is weaker, diluted in some way, probably by his magical side.”

  Alex wondered where Elias’s obsession with Christmas-based metaphor had sprung from, but there was no time to joke about it. There were too many questions Alex needed answered, and he still had to think of a way out of the cell. Time, his arch-nemesis, was once more against him.

  “Why isn’t my Spellbreaker side diluted by my non-magical side?” Alex countered.

  “Doesn’t work that way. Supernatural energy paired with non-magical ordinariness is complementary, and the supernatural overtakes the ordinary side, using it as a vessel through which to flow. When supernatural energy is paired with supernatural energy, it creates a conflict, and one side has to prevail or the host would implode. In little Virgil’s case, the magic side seems stronger,” Elias explained. “It’s why it was thought to be impossible before he arrived and trounced everyone’s painstakingly crafted theories, because the two sides fought on a cellular level too, meaning conception wasn’t possible until Virgie Virge came along—he is a true mystery. It’s just a shame he’s so intolerably dull.”

  “So are there others like me?” Alex wondered aloud.

  Elias sighed. “Afraid not, though I understand the desire to have another stand in your place, when the consequences are what they are. Believe me, we’ve looked high and low. If there was anyone else, I wouldn’t have spent the last eighteen years dangling like a streamer from shadowy corners, keeping out of the way.”

  “Is this what you wanted all along, then? To feed me little bits and pieces, make me think I was becoming something, building me up to a strength where I might be capable of doing the counter-spell, just so you could then try to coax me into it? Is that what all of this has been for—just a setup for my eventual demise?” Alex asked coldly, trying to stop the bristle of anti-magic that threatened to push through his skin. “Naturally, you couldn’t just tell me why you wanted me to do all of these things, so you let others do it for you, watching and waiting until you could strike and get me to do it… thinking you could appeal to my compassionate side, no doubt.”

  With something akin to regret, Elias spoke. “The curse that was placed on Siren and me, though ‘gag order’ is a better term, worked like Aamir’s golden band. Neither of us could say anything directly—you had to find out your heritage and purpose on your own, to prove your worthiness,” he said quietly, his voice echoing strangely around him. “We didn’t make the rules, but we had to follow them. We followed them to the letter with your fath
er, in that we weren’t allowed to influence anything directly, to help. But, as a result, he learned nothing and discovered nothing about himself. As far as he knew, he was ordinary. If we’d been able to equip him… Well, things may not have happened as they did.” In the wispy dark of his throat, he made a strange gulping sound. “So, over the years we discovered ways we could bend the rules a bit, to make things easier if another Spellbreaker ever came along… and you did. Here you are,” he whispered, a palpable sorrow in his voice. It was almost worse than the sarcasm.

  “I guess I’m asking the right questions now?” Alex said wryly.

  “Finally,” Elias replied, though the humor sounded forced.

  “What were you going to say before you disappeared in a flash of light? You said, ‘It is not their—’ or something. Then you disappeared—what were you going to say?” Alex asked, hoping the question was precise enough to garner a clear answer.

  “I was going to say, it is not their battle. They were all squabbling over who gets you, not realizing that it isn’t even their fight or their choice. I mean, they could force you, but it might end up with the same results as Virgil’s feeble attempts. In the end, it is your battle, not theirs.”

  “Can you make me do it?” Alex asked, trying to keep the trepidation out of his voice.

  Elias shook his shifting head. “Even now, I’m not allowed to influence you one way or the other, as much as I would like to,” he jested. “So far, I haven’t come up with a way of getting you to do it, and I have been wracking my brains for a long time. No, in all seriousness, the decision has to be yours.”

  A sudden, horrifying thought came to Alex’s mind. Perhaps Elias hadn’t thought of a way around the no-influence clause, but Alex could think of someone who might have figured out an emotional loophole. He wondered if that was why Siren Mave had made Aamir offer to return him to the real world, to be reunited with his mother. With a pang of bitterness, he realized there could well have been a darker, less altruistic side to the offer. If it had happened, if he had accepted the offer before Jari and Natalie had burst in, would the trip home simply have served as a sweetener, to persuade him to accept his “purpose” and give his life for the cause? A reminder of what he was fighting for, to make him feel so overwhelmed with guilt for all those who couldn’t go home—a chance to say goodbye before he gave up his life? With a sinking feeling, he understood it was a grave likelihood.