The Secret of Spellshadow Manor 2

by Bella Forrest

  “How can you—hand me that knife at once!” he demanded, his voice pouring from an unnatural place deep beneath his cloak. “It does not belong to you. You should not be able to wield it! Give it to me!” The Head reached for the blade. Alex slashed a warning slice between them, stopping the Head in his tracks.

  “Never,” replied Alex.

  “Where did you steal it from, you vile little thief? How dare you!” the Head seethed, the whispering sound sending a shiver up Alex’s spine.

  “You know very well where I took it from,” said Alex in a low voice, the knife’s silvery energy emboldening him. “I will make you pay for what you’ve done.”

  As Alex’s anger rippled out from the epicenter of his heart, the blade began to glow more brightly. It strengthened with every pang of emotion felt through the hand that held it, burning more fiercely as it connected to the soul within.

  The Head gave a hollow laugh. “You,” he whispered, pointing a bony finger toward Alex. “What are you?” His foul gaze leveled with Alex, but Alex refused to look away.

  “You know who I am,” growled Alex, slashing again with the blade as the Head took a step toward him.

  A vicious smile appeared on the wizard’s emaciated lips. “Can it be, after all this time, that you have come to me?”

  He lunged toward Alex, but Alex was ready for him, swiping at the Head’s bony arm with the knife. His mind focused on the pulsing center of the Head’s essence, feeling the coiled creature within the Head’s body. It was cold and uninviting, pushing against Alex’s mind. He pushed back, teeth gritted, and lunged forward once more.

  The knife made contact with the Head’s arm, and the scream that erupted from the hooded figure’s throat pierced the air in a bloodcurdling howl—the cry of a demon, guttural and raw. Snarling, the Head recoiled in searing agony.

  As Alex withdrew the knife, he noticed a tiny bead of something red, glowing at the end of the blade, diluted against the shimmering silver. Before he could examine it more closely, Ellabell grabbed his arm.

  “Run!” she cried, pushing him forward.

  They broke into a sprint. The knife still glowed in Alex’s hand, and as he ran, a wave of clarity crashed through his mind. After what he had witnessed on the battlefield and with the blade, he knew now, with great certainty, the man beneath the hood was a creature of both magic and anti-magic—a hybrid of the two, forged from light and dark.

  But Alex couldn’t wrap his head around how the Head had come to be. Could it be as simple as the Head being the offspring of a forbidden love? The abominable result of a Spellbreaker and a Mage, defying tradition and propriety to bring him life? Or was he something worse, created and not born?

  He heard the thud of Natalie and Ellabell’s feet close behind him as they made it to the fork in the corridors. They had just entered the main hallway leading toward the Head’s office when a great blast surged from behind and knocked them flat on the floor. Alex’s face slammed against the hard ground as the blade went skittering across the flagstones, just out of reach. He scrabbled for it but could not reach it as a second blast exploded over his head, keeping him down.

  Jari burst from the chamber next to them, a war cry howling from his lungs, only to be sent flying, seconds later, by the eruption of a third blast. He landed on his back with a heavy thud. A fourth blast followed, more forceful than the last, knocking the air clean out of their lungs as the Head’s voice filled Alex’s ears.

  “You will never escape me,” the malicious voice breathed.

  “We will,” spat Alex, his face pressed down against the cold stones, the taste of blood in his mouth.

  “It was an excellent attempt, but it was never going to work. I am far stronger than you will ever understand. You have merely annoyed me. Thanks to your foolish endeavors, you have set me back years. Do you know what that means, Alex Webber?” hissed the Head, the voice somehow coming from inside Alex’s own skull.

  Alex did know what that meant. “I will stop you,” he seethed through gritted teeth, speckled red.

  “Thanks to you and your ill-favored uprising, I will have to find double the students. I will need to bring in more to replace what that idiot Renmark disposed of.”

  The Head’s displeasure surprised Alex; he would have thought the Head, in all his vile glory, would have relished the death and suffering of so many students. Wasn’t that what the whole purpose of the chamber was? To see so many students die, year after year, as they failed a test they could never win?

  “He should have known better. So much work to be done,” muttered the Head, apparently not realizing Alex was still privy to his thoughts.

  Out of the corner of his eye, Alex could see the Head was still a fair way away, standing at the entrance to the main hallway. But in the skeletal palms of his hands he was beginning to manifest a rippling ball of black and gold. It was like no energy Alex had ever seen, and he was certain it spelled out the end for him. Pinned to the floor, unable to move, the blade just a fraction too far away, there was nowhere to run, no way to win.

  Suddenly, the very shadows around Alex and the others shifted. The darkness became liquid, whirling from the deepest recesses of the hallway. The air crackled, and a rush of frosty air sent icy fingers running through their hair. Alex lifted his head in time to see Elias appear, floating in vaguely human form before them.

  He flashed his glinting teeth at Alex. “Why do I always seem to be doing the heavy lifting?” he quipped with a starry grin.

  The sight of the shadow-creature startled the Head, his inhuman mouth twisting into a grimace of confusion and wry amusement as he and Elias prowled around each other. Only it wasn’t clear which was prey and which was predator.

  “Oh, Elias, you are a thing of beauty, aren’t you? Just look at you. Still so powerful. You had such potential. The finest wizard I had ever seen—the only one who might have been of vital use to me, and yet you chose to waste it on this half-life. Such a shame,” the Head taunted.

  “You have no idea,” snapped Elias, his voice brimming with bitterness. “I would have been more powerful than you could ever have dreamed if it weren’t for that sniveling little weasel Derhin. He was so desperate to take my place, and you listened! You are the fool here. Together, we could have fought and found another way out of this mess, but you were too much of a coward for that! As if I was just going to give myself up,” he growled, the rage building in his shadowy throat. “I would rather watch you burn. I will see it one day. I will watch your destruction and I will smile, as you did,” he spat, his sharp teeth glinting with menace.

  “Now, now, Elias. No need to be so sensitive. It was all such a long time ago,” chuckled the Head.

  “I am patient. I have been patient. Your days are numbered.” Elias smirked, as if he knew something the Head didn’t. “You have realized too late,” he whispered.

  The Head sneered and conjured a spear of ice and fire, aiming at Elias’s head. The shadow-man evaded it easily, coming back at the Head with a rippling swarm of pure, dark energy that billowed in a mist toward the Head’s face.

  “This is the end of you!” yelled the Head with a snarl, as he delved into the depths of his cloak. From within, he pulled out a bottle of black glass. Alex’s eyes widened in horror, knowing the bottle’s purpose. Elias froze too, his starry black eyes glittering with violent rage.

  “Did you forget I had this?” the Head sneered, as he ripped the stopper from the top and tipped the contents out onto the palm of his hand. Within, Alex could see the dull red glow of something tiny. It was far smaller than the coiled, glowing essences he had seen stacked like condiments in the antechamber. It was only a section of the larger whole.

  “That’s mine!” shouted Elias, lunging toward the Head.

  The Head waved his pale hand over the small, glowing ember, and a ripple of pale pink light shot through the shadowy form of Elias’s body. Elias cried out in agony, slivers of his fluid form fading and slithering away from him, back int
o the darkness. Clawing the threads back into his shifting figure, Elias drew himself up and launched another attack at the Head. Jets of the purest black fired from Elias’s shadowy form, the Head unable to snatch them or push them away. They were made from another energy entirely.

  With a sweep of his arm, the Head passed his hand over the small coil of Elias’s essence. Another cry shivered from Elias’s shadowy throat, echoing between the walls and chilling Alex’s blood. It was unearthly and inhuman and made goosebumps prickle along every inch of his skin. It seemed to come from another realm, the scream trembling the fabric of the world around them.

  Elias swept backward, gathering up his errant shadows as he leveled a furious gaze at the Head. Alex had never seen rage like it. He was almost sure he saw a red glow burning, replacing the black, galactic irises of Elias’s peculiar eyes.

  Elias rallied again, flowing back on the wave of pain. This time, the Head was not as fast. The black mist of Elias’s mysterious energy engulfed the hooded skeleton, blinding him for a moment as Elias swooped in with a rush of shadow and knocked the ember from the Head’s palm. It fell like a marble, bouncing across the flagstones. Elias scurried after the ember, sweeping along the floor until his fluid fingers settled across the tiny red glow. Alex watched with wonder as Elias buried the glowing red marble deep inside the glittering cavern of his chest, where he seemed to store all of his most precious possessions.

  “Go!” hissed Elias as he slithered along the floor, a triumphant grin on his strange face. Alex understood. Now nothing stood between Elias and the Head. Without the glowing particle of Elias’s essence, the Head had no further control of the shadow creature. It was the moment Elias had been waiting a long time for, Alex realized, feeling a niggle of confusion in the back of his mind. Had this been the goal all along? The reason for the gifts and the books and the visits? Alex knew it would plague him later, but for now he had other things to worry about.

  Alex scrambled to his feet, running to the others, who were doing the same, dragging themselves back up. He paused for a moment to pluck the almost-lost knife from the floor and slide it back into his belt.

  The fight, so close to where they stood, intensified between Elias and the Head. All bets were off. Without the Head’s advantage, the two seemed to be more than evenly matched, even with Elias’s less-than-solid form.

  Ellabell seemed frozen to the spot by the sight of Elias, her eyes staring at the shadow-creature in abject horror.

  “Ellabell! You have to run!” Alex told her, grabbing her hand. She shook her head as if brushing off a trance.

  “We can’t leave Aamir,” insisted Jari, just as they were about to break away from the fight.

  Of course, Jari was right. They couldn’t just leave Aamir to whatever fate might befall him if left within close proximity to the two superhuman opponents down the corridor.

  Running into the foul chamber, a bolt of guilt sliced through Alex. Aamir was still hanging from the manacles, a cold sweat glistening on his sickly, waxy-looking face. Without thinking, knowing their time was precious, Alex reached up with the blade of the knife, watching it sear into life, and severed the golden line on Aamir’s wrist.

  A howl of agony erupted from Aamir’s mouth as the line shattered, some of the energy seeping into the skin beneath, making his veins glow amber beneath the coppery outer layer as the rest fell, like iridescent confetti, to the floor. His face twisted and his entire arm glowed a molten gold, the overwhelming pain evident on his half-conscious face. Mid-cry, Aamir collapsed in the manacles, his body completely limp. Alex lifted his fingers to check for a pulse in Aamir’s neck. He was still alive, just unconscious.

  With the help of the others, Alex grabbed Aamir and unchained him as Jari and Natalie looped his arms around their necks. Running as fast as they could with their ungainly charge, they ducked out of the chamber and fled toward the Head’s office as the battle raged violently on at the end of the corridor, sparks of black and gold flying against a glistening slick of oily mist.

  “What now?” asked Natalie as the sound of the battle ebbed. She looked fearfully to Alex, her face damp with sweat, her eyes panicked.

  “We need to barricade ourselves in the Head’s office. I don’t know if Elias will be able to hold the Head off forever, and if he can’t, it’s going to be up to us. We’ll have to make a last stand against him,” said Alex, wiping the moisture from his forehead. The name Elias slipped from his mouth with a comfortable familiarity he hadn’t experienced before, taking him by surprise.

  “Elias?” asked Jari, his eyebrow raised in suspicion.

  “The shadow creature?” echoed Ellabell.

  The truth had caught up with Alex at last. “Elias is a strange friend of mine,” he began. It felt odd to say Elias’s name out loud. With the others finally seeing the shadow-man, the invisible restraint binding Alex’s tongue seemed to have faded away. “It’s a very long story, and right now we don’t have time for it, but I promise I’ll tell you all about him later, when we’re…” He trailed off, as realization gripped his heart in a vise. He didn’t know if there would be a later.

  Alex had so many questions for Elias, having heard the exchange between the shadow-man and the Head. He wanted to know what Derhin had done and how the Head had come to have only a piece of Elias’s essence. Where was the rest of it? He wanted to know what Elias had been before, when he was powerful and human and not a shadowy substance flitting from there to here and back again. He wanted to know what the Head had meant when he said Elias could have been vital, and what Elias had meant when he said they could have fought together in a different way. He wanted to know so many things, but he wasn’t sure he’d ever get the chance to find out any more than what he already knew.

  Their hope was a very weak flame now, moments from going out. The understanding settled in a cloud of melancholy around the small group.

  “We can still get through this. All of us,” whispered Alex. “Once we’re in the Head’s office, we’re going to ransack the place for anything and everything we can use. We will find something, and we will make it out of this,” he said, trying to comfort the despondent faces of his friends. “There might be something in those rare books we can use against him.”

  Natalie and Ellabell nodded silently. A smile grew across Jari’s face, and Alex knew he was thinking the same thing.

  Knowledge was power, and they were going to find it.

  Chapter 31

  Alex led the way as they ran up the remainder of the corridor toward the Head’s office and burst into the room. Moving quickly, knowing they didn’t have much time, Alex instructed the others to set the still-unconscious Aamir up against the gnarled tree trunk that sat in the well of the fireplace. It was easily viewed from all areas of the room, in case Aamir awoke and still felt bound to the Head in some deep, disturbed way and tried to lash out at them. Who knew what side Aamir would be on. Even now, Alex wasn’t sure how much Aamir was responsible for and how much the golden band was responsible for. He had so many questions for the unconscious young man that would have to wait for an answer.

  Like those notes, warning him in the middle of the night; Alex still didn’t know if it was Aamir who had sent them or someone else entirely. Then there was the mystery of his presence in the Head’s quarters that night, now so long ago. Why had he been there, only to appear soon after through the gate with the new boy Felipe? Had the Head called him somehow? How had he moved so quickly from one place to another? Alex’s mind flitted momentarily to the ill-fated magical travel attempts he and Natalie had made, wondering if that was how Aamir had done it, and if he had permission to move freely outside the manor’s restraints.

  Shaking his head, Alex returned his attention to the room and how to defend it. There would be time to ask those questions later, if they made it out alive. Secretly, Alex hoped Aamir would stay unconscious; he couldn’t focus on that, too, with everything else he had to worry about.

  With the others joining
in, Alex blocked the door to the office with a few heavy chairs and a bookshelf laid diagonally across it. He knew it was a silly thing to do—it wouldn’t hold the Head for more than a second if he came for them—but there was comfort in the practical action of keeping the skeletal figure out.

  With the door barred and Aamir somewhere safe, Alex turned to the red-lined bookshelf. Jari was already sitting on the Head’s desk, swinging his legs with an irreverent grin on his face. It cheered Alex to see his dear friend still smiling, when there was so little left to smile about.

  Alex knelt on the cold, hard floor, careful not to get in the way of Jari’s swinging legs as he took out the anti-magical knife and touched it gently to the red line that glowed from within the ancient wooden structure.

  Nothing happened.

  Alex tried it again, but the knife did nothing. It could not cut through the red barrier.

  Alex realized the knife must only have specific abilities. The knowledge was a little disappointing as he slid it back into his belt, but he wasn’t defeated yet. Already grimacing, he moved his palms toward the thrumming red line and touched his anti-magic against it. Pain tore through his body, white-hot and searing through every cell, seemingly gripping at every organ and trying to crush every bone beneath his skin. It bit and twisted and ripped, leaving Alex bent double on the floor with his arms wrapped around himself, trying to hold the burning pieces of his body together.

  Jari jumped down from the desk as Ellabell rushed to his side, asking if she could help, but Alex was in too much pain to speak properly. His jaw felt as if it had fallen away, and his teeth throbbed and stung around a swollen tongue. With whatever resilience he had left, he tried to focus his anti-magic in a last-ditch attempt to control the agony that shredded through every nerve.

  Ellabell reached to grab his hand, but he pulled it sharply away.

  “Don’t… magic…” he gasped, worried about the residual energy hurting her. Her face showed she understood, although her brow creased with concern.