Pulling his t-shirt up over his nose, he walked into the prison itself, peering anxiously around corners in case anyone came hurtling toward him. No one did. The prison was like a ghost town, everything silent and deathly still. He even peeked into a few cells, just to see if there was anyone inside, but each one was empty. Stepping through into one of the larger common areas, he understood why.
Piles of bodies lay stacked up on the floor, tossed carelessly like yesterday’s trash. Worse than that, each body looked as if the bone and muscle had been pulled from it, the corpses floppy, ghoulish messes, the sunken faces staring upward at nothing, each expression still showing the horror of their final moments. A sea of scarlet ran beneath Alex’s feet, maggots writhing across the open wounds, as blowflies buzzed around the mouths of the dead. The smell was overwhelmingly metallic and so strong that he could almost taste it.
This was Julius’s handiwork.
Staring down a nearby hallway, he saw the same gruesome scene at the end of it. Bodies piled high, everything torn from within—bone, muscle, sinew, organs. Undoubtedly, the king had taken the essence too. Perhaps, Alex thought, this was Julius’s quick method of extraction, removing it all at once, not caring about the mess it caused.
Nobody said a word as the trio stalked through the mass grave, leaving footprints in the congealed blood beneath their shoes. With every footstep, a swarm of green-tinged flies soared upward, flying into their faces. The trio’s hands swatted wildly with palms coated in bristling energy, a frying sound hissing every so often as a blowfly got zapped.
At each floor they came to, knowing they had to descend to the subterranean levels, they found more of the same, the foul stench of death and decay growing more pungent. The murder was endless. Julius had evidently ripped through the place like a tornado, destroying everything in his path, not caring if it was male or female, young or old. There were even scorch-marks on the wall where some of them had tried to fight back, though such a thing could only be futile against a man like that.
There were no words to describe how nauseated Alex felt, knowing how these people had suffered at the king’s hands. He remembered how he had broken the barrier modules on his way out, hoping to distract Julius’s attention and bring him to Kingstone, to deal with the chaotic mess. Well, if Alex had known this was what that cleanup would entail, he’d never have broken the cylinder. One impulsive move, and all these people had died. Had he not had the spell to think about, he would have curled up in a ball right there, and remained that way for the rest of his life. Though he knew it wasn’t his fault, considering nobody could predict something so abhorrent, he still felt the weight of responsibility crushing him.
Focus, he told himself, trying not to look at any more hideous corpses.
At long last, they reached the subterranean level they needed—the one with the empty cell that led to a staircase. Fortunately for them, both cell door and staircase trapdoor were already open. Alex thought that was a bit strange, but said nothing about it as they followed the narrow stairs down. Alex led the other two past the room where Natalie had crouched in her possessed state, toward the large gates at the end of the rough-hewn corridor.
He heaved himself against them, and the doors swung open with a loud creak. Expecting to see the golden bird and the pit, Alex stepped into the room, only to stagger back again as the smell hit him hard in the nostrils. The whole room emitted a rotten stench, and, as his eyes adjusted to the dim light, Alex could see why. The edges of the pit were slimy with the remnants of decaying entrails. Julius had evidently dumped everything he’d extracted into the pit at once, organic and magical alike, not bothering with any form of control or etiquette. Well, at least the Great Evil was satisfied here, Alex thought, shuddering at the mental image of Julius pouring the slops of hundreds into that gaping hole.
“We’re doing the spell here?” asked Virgil, pinching his nose.
Alex nodded. “We have to.”
“Are you sure we cannot go to Stillwater or Falleaf?” Natalie wondered, her eyes watering from the stench.
Alex shrugged apologetically. “I’m afraid not. It’s either here or nowhere.”
“Right now, I’d vote nowhere,” Virgil muttered, turning to retch slightly.
“You can’t do that while you’re reciting the spell,” Alex warned.
Virgil rolled his eyes. “Which of us do you think has more experience with this spell?” he remarked, silencing Alex. “Speaking of which, I won’t be able to do the spell with these on my wrists,” he said, jangling the cuffs on his wrists.
“Of course you can,” Natalie countered.
“I need my hands for the spell,” he insisted. “One hand needs to be on the book, and I can’t do that with them pulled together like this.”
“I guess not,” Alex said, a little dubious. Still, he moved over to Virgil so he could undo the cuffs on his wrists. Once they were off, he threw them to Natalie, who had taken up her position by the door. Whipping the book and vial from his satchel, he reluctantly handed the two objects to the Head. “Shall we get started?”
“No time like the present,” Virgil replied sourly, taking the book and vial and gesturing for Alex to follow while he approached the pit. “I hope that nasty little shadow friend of yours isn’t going to turn up in the middle of this?” he said as he opened the book to lie flat on the surface of Alex’s palms.
Alex shook his head, still wishing Elias were here. “He’s otherwise engaged.”
Virgil snorted. “Unsurprising—he’d always do anything to get out of hard work.”
With that, Virgil pressed his own palm down on the page. Slowly, the book began to glow, before bursting into a fierce light that backlit Virgil’s hand, making his skin appear to glow too. As it had done before, the writing on the pages lifted, swirling up in a spiral, and then settled in the air before them, hovering just above the pit. The large, glowing letters were paler than they had been the last time, but they were still readable, the words clear.
With a deep breath, Virgil made to begin the incantation.
Suddenly remembering Siren Mave’s advice, Alex cut in, hoping to stop the Head before he spoke the first word. “A friend of mine said the spell had to be properly witnessed, by all who are involved. Does that mean anything to you?” he asked.
But it was too late. Virgil had already spoken the first word. There was no way he could pause to talk; he had to continue. Like a runaway train, there was no stopping him. With every stanza the skeletal man cleared, the earth shook. His voice rang clear and true across the cavern, the words singing smoothly toward the Great Evil.
Gradually, Virgil came to the twelfth stanza, though his eyes stared at Alex strangely. “With the blood of my enemies, I close the circle of pain,” he said.
As the final word echoed across the cavern, Virgil nodded for Alex to pick up the vial on the ground. Leaving the book in Virgil’s grasp, Alex did just that, ducking down to pick up the small bottle.
A second later, the book landed on the ground beside him with a heavy thud, dust flying up from the pages. Looking up in horror, Alex watched as Virgil slowly backed away from the edge of the pit, heading for the door. The skeletal man was trying to escape before he had finished the spell.
“VIRGIL, NO!”
Chapter 17
Virgil broke into a sprint as Alex shouted.
“I can’t finish it. I can’t do it,” he stammered, shaking his head, racing for the door of the pit room. Natalie cut him off, ready with the cuffs, but he feinted out of the way, leaving them to clatter fruitlessly in her hands.
Virgil struggled to pull open the heavy door, but Natalie lunged for him again, tackling him to the ground by gripping his legs. She tried to run her magic under his skin, but his anti-magic half fought back.
Alex dove for Virgil too, creating quite the pileup, though they were getting perilously close to the edge of the pit. Natalie scrambled to her feet before scooping the vial and the book off the ground, away
from where the two men were brawling.
“The cuffs!” Alex yelled, still wrestling with Virgil on the ground. Natalie held out the cuffs for Alex to grab. He snatched them from her hands, and tried to shove them onto Virgil’s wrists. The royal was already weak from having the manacles on the first time, but the repeated presence of the gray ivy that wound around the cuffs debilitated him further. A weak coil of hybrid magic emerged from his palms, twisting feebly past Alex’s head. Alex himself could barely conjure a shield, much less fight back. Realizing it was futile, Alex threw the cuffs away, and they hit the wall with a tinny clank.
Instead, he powered through the flurry of Virgil’s twisting fists, ignoring the searing pain as Virgil’s weakened spells landed on him, and clamped his hands onto the sides of the Head’s temples. The Head’s eyes went wide in horror as Alex fed the silvery strands of his mind-control into Virgil’s brain.
As his power took over, Alex felt a twinge of remorse for what he was doing. Part of him wished it didn’t have to be like this, given how much their relationship had progressed, but Virgil hadn’t left him with another option. There was no way he was going to give up on this opportunity, just because Virgil was scared and having second thoughts. Once again, he heard Venus’s voice in his head, reminding him that Virgil was just a person, with hopes and fears like the rest of them. Like everyone else, Alex understood that the Head probably feared death too—it was the great leveler, bringing even the strongest men to their knees.
Still, they had made an agreement. One life wasn’t enough of a reason to stop the spell, not when there were hundreds out there, at risk while the Great Evil continued to exist.
Maneuvering the skeletal man, Alex managed to get him to his feet, walking him slowly back toward the edge of the pit. The stench of the room had eased slightly, as Alex had become accustomed to it, but sometimes a fresh wave caught him unawares, making bile rise in his throat. This was one of those moments, though he recovered quickly. Natalie ran up with the book and the vial, and held them out, just as Alex had done before. He thanked her, before placing the Head’s palm flat on the open page. For a long time, the page remained nothing but paper. Then, just as Alex was about to give up hope, a glow surged from within, growing brighter with each second, until it shone with ferocious luminescence around Virgil’s hand, the golden words rising up into the air once more.
Alex breathed a sigh of relief, though he hoped this didn’t mean they were on attempt number three. Virgil had never swallowed the blood, or even so much as lifted it to his lips, which gave Alex the tentative belief that it may have opened a loophole through which they could remain on that second try. The only problem was, he had a feeling they couldn’t simply pick up where they’d left off, with Virgil just drinking the blood. The book had dropped, the hovering words vanishing from the pit, which led Alex to believe they would have to begin again, to ensure the spell was done in its entirety. Whether his inkling was right, he guessed they’d see soon enough.
Closing his eyes, Alex followed the familiar motions of mind control, hearing Virgil’s voice reciting the words he was thinking. Each stanza danced in the air in front of them. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven… and, finally, twelve came and went, without a hiccup. Though Alex didn’t dare feel even a hint of confidence, there was something different about this try—it felt smoother, somehow, almost like it was going better than last time. Not that he’d say such a thing out loud.
Finishing the twelfth stanza, Alex felt excitement bubble up inside him. He lifted the vial, which Natalie had graciously un-stoppered, and forced the last words from Virgil’s mouth.
“With the blood of my enemies, I close the circle of pain.”
Making Virgil take the vial from him, Alex fed instructions into the Head’s brain, forcing him to lift the vial to his lips, pour the liquid in, and swallow the thick substance. He did so, following the puppeteer, though a scarlet smear stained the Head’s bottom lip as he removed the vial and handed it back to Natalie, as per Alex’s mental instructions.
With that, Alex released Virgil from the clutches of the mind control, lowering him carefully to the ground. He groaned, coming around much quicker than the last time.
“What have you done?” he croaked.
“What I had to,” said Alex, glancing down at the man on the floor. However, he quickly realized there was something wrong with the image before him. Everything felt as if it had gone well, but nothing seemed to have changed. No pits were caving in; no walls were crumbling. And, most notably of all, Virgil wasn’t dead. If the spell had gone as it was supposed to, the Head wouldn’t be sitting up, calling Alex all the names under the sun.
Curious, Alex stepped right up to the edge of the pit to peer down into the darkness below. Was the second attempt a dud? If they used the right blood but got everything else wrong, did that mean the mist stayed below? So far, nothing seemed to be rising from the cavernous depths. He peered closer, trying to remember whether the mist had already reared its ugly head by this point, the last time they tried it. He simply couldn’t remember.
A sudden, violent tremor shook the ground, sending Alex lurching forward. With the gaping mouth of the pit staring him full in the face, he knew he had been too close to the edge. His feet were no longer touching solid ground. In slow motion, he felt himself begin to tumble into the darkness, only to be snatched back at the very last moment, his body jolting upward, his neck snapping back. Virgil had taken hold of his t-shirt, while a gleaming rope of anti-magic twisted around Alex’s chest, rapidly conjured from the Head’s hands, allowing the skeletal man to pull Alex back over the edge of the pit, to safety. Natalie rushed to the pit’s lip to grasp at Alex’s flailing arm. Together, Virgil and Natalie managed to retrieve him from the edge of certain death, and for that he was eternally grateful.
“It went wrong again!” Virgil gasped, as another tremor tore through the earth below them.
“No—” Alex yelled, his words muffled by the roar of the earthquake below.
“As I was doing it, I knew something was wrong!” Virgil explained quickly, shouting over the din. “Something was missing—it was missing last time, and it was missing this time. What you said before, about the witness, it got me thinking…” he added, one eye constantly on the pit. “But right now, we need to get out of here!”
The noise of the quake was growing louder and louder, making Alex feel like his eardrums were about to burst. It was almost like pressure was building, deep below them, as something prepared to erupt.
Alex nodded, shoving Natalie toward the door, throwing the book and the vial to her. Given her wholly magical being, he knew the mist would go for her first, if that was what was building beneath the earth. As she reached for the handle, turning it and yanking the door open, a geyser of silver mist shot up through the crevasse, moving faster than anything Alex had seen before. This version of the mist was rapid, latching onto Natalie’s essence like a missile. Fortunately, Alex and Virgil were already at the door, blocking its route toward Natalie, who had managed to get out into the corridor and was running for the staircase at the far end. The mist surged toward them, recoiling at the last minute. This time, it didn’t seem to have much of a taste for Virgil. The mist swept out before crashing back in again, like a shark circling its victim, testing the flavor.
As it swept out again, the two men took their chance, diving out of the pit room and slamming the door shut behind them with a boom that shook the whole hallway. Glancing at one another, they sprinted for the staircase too, following Natalie up into the main body of the prison.
The mist wasn’t far behind them, a door proving little challenge for this iteration of the sweeping plague. It rushed up the stairs behind them, snapping at their heels. Not pausing for a second, they raced through every floor, ducking bats and sidestepping rotting corpses, until they reached the very top level, their lungs screaming against the exertion. The mist stopped by the entrance to one of the large
r common rooms, seemingly confused by the piles of dead bodies. Slithering across the lifeless forms, it snaked beneath their decaying flesh, seeking out any dregs of essence that might still be inside. This gave the trio the break they needed, and they hurried toward the turret where Storm was waiting.
She chirped in a panicked tone as they appeared. Turning around, she squatted down on her haunches, allowing them to clamber up, before hopping onto the wall and gliding off in one swift movement. As they took to the sky, Alex turned around in time to see a wave of silver undulating up through the staircase, smothering the flagstones they had been standing on, mere moments before. They’d had a very close call—too close for Alex’s liking.
Nobody spoke as Storm flew. Alex couldn’t stop thinking about what had happened, and what that now meant for him. He doubted he would be able to keep such a disastrous event from Julius for very long. After what Venus had said, Alex knew there were likely to be spies watching Kingstone, though whether they’d escape the mist remained to be seen. If they did survive it, they’d tell Julius what had happened, and that would signal the signing of his death warrant.
They just needed to get back to Starcross before anyone noticed them. If they could do that, Alex knew he might have a chance of evading Julius’s terms of the bargain.
“Natalie, can I see the vial?” Alex asked.
“There is not much left,” Natalie replied, passing the vial over, though she clung tightly to the book in case it fell.
Alex sighed. “I didn’t think there would be.”
Keeping one hand on Storm’s shoulder handle, he lifted the glass bottle to the light. There was indeed some liquid left at the bottom, but it didn’t look like there was enough for a third attempt. Peering closer, he thought there might just be five drops, but was that a risk he’d be willing to take on his final attempt? No, he didn’t think it was.
The Secret of Spellshadow Manor 6: The Spell Page 14