The Secret of Spellshadow Manor 6

by Bella Forrest

  “Oh, and I forgot to mention,” he purred. “I have another little surprise for you.”

  Alex didn’t want to know; he was done with surprises. There was nothing that could come out of that man’s mouth that would make Alex feel any better, or ease his troubled mind.

  “A surprise? For me, Your Royal Highness?” Alex replied, trying not to let the sarcasm drip from his words.

  Julius glowered, moving closer to Alex. “I have your friends,” he whispered malevolently. “And if you speak in that insolent tone again, I will change my mind about what I have planned for them.”

  Alex frowned. “So they’re here?” he asked, all the daring gone from his voice.

  “Oh, yes,” said Julius. “And I had planned something remarkably kind for them, though I’m starting to have second thoughts.”

  “My apologies, Your Royal Highness. I didn’t mean to offend. I am simply in shock,” Alex admitted, hoping to win the royal over with a little groveling. “It’s not an easy thing, to learn your life has a much briefer timer over it.”

  For a moment, the king said nothing, his wolfish eyes scrutinizing Alex closely, no doubt trying to see if the fear was genuine. Alex was convinced Julius could sniff out the real deal, and hoped there was enough of it to convince him.

  “No, I would imagine not,” said Julius, finally.

  “Please, tell me what kind thing you had planned—I won’t speak out of turn again, Your Royal Highness,” Alex insisted, adding the cherry to the top of the forgiveness cake.

  Julius gave a dramatic sigh. “Well, Alex Webber, I will promise the freedom of your friends, upon the successful completion of the spell, by you,” he explained grandly, clearly thinking himself the most benevolent creature to ever walk the earth.

  Alex didn’t know what to say. The offer seemed genuine, but he knew better than to believe anything uttered by the king, especially where good deeds were concerned. Glancing over to Venus, he saw a small smile pulling at the corners of her lips, and realized the offer must’ve had something to do with her hypnosis magic.

  “Forgive me, Your Royal Highness,” Alex began, his voice tight. “Your offer is as generous as it is kind, and it’s one I would gladly thank you for, but how do I know you’ll carry out your promise? After all, if I succeed, then I won’t be around to…” A lump formed in his throat, but he continued through it. “…see that your promise is kept. It’s not that I don’t trust you, but I would like some sort of insurance, Your Royal Highness.”

  Venus stepped forward. “Your friends will all be safe. You have our word. It has been promised, and so it shall be done,” she said softly, her voice carrying like a song toward Alex’s ears.

  “Thank you, Your…”

  “Your Grace,” Venus offered, seeing that he was struggling with how to address her.

  Alex bowed. “Thank you, Your Grace. As I say, the offer is a generous one. I’ll be happier going to my grave knowing they are taken care of. Not happy, but happier,” he said, trying to force a smile onto his face, though he wasn’t in any kind of mindset to feel pleased. All through the conversation, though it was growing more promising by the second, Alex could not escape the sense of impending doom that was threatening to crush him beneath its weight.

  Julius leaned into his wife, his face showing his displeasure.

  “You do not speak when I am speaking,” he hissed, pulling her roughly toward him by the neck. “You know this, and yet you continue to disobey. I don’t like to blemish your beautiful skin, my darling, but if you persist…” The rest of the sentence did not need to be said; the intent was clear enough.

  Venus took in a deep breath, her face perfectly calm as she lifted her hands to her husband’s face and planted a delicate kiss on his lips. Pulling away, she held his gaze. For a moment, they were perfectly still, saying nothing, barely moving, while Venus, using whatever strange powers of manipulation she possessed, turned their full force onto her husband.

  “I am sorry, my darling,” Venus whispered. “I got overexcited about your grand idea, and felt compelled to speak. It will not happen again,” she said. Julius appeared hypnotized by her words, his expression softening. Alex watched, transfixed to see her powers at work on someone else.

  Slowly, Julius broke away from his wife, and she released her hold on his face. His eyes looked strangely placid, as if he’d just awoken from a deep slumber. He blinked sluggishly, apparently figuring out his surroundings. Seeing Alex, he narrowed his eyes.

  “Where was I?” he asked.

  “Your kind plan for my friends, Your Royal Highness,” Alex replied, encouraged by a subtle nod from Venus.

  Julius nodded slowly, as if it was all coming back to him. “Yes, your friends shall be set free, upon completion of the task before you,” he repeated, before pausing, a grim smile dancing upon his lips. “If you aren’t successful, however, then your friends shall suffer the same fate as you. There will be a public execution, and all of you shall leave this world together.” He sighed, evidently delighted by the poetic drama of it.

  Alex nodded, not daring to say anything. He would do the spell, as he had been asked, but to have his friends’ fates hinge on his success seemed cruel and unjust. But what choice do I have? Alex thought miserably. He could only hope that Venus would ensure the promise was seen through to fruition, no matter how much power it took her to persuade her husband of mercy.

  “Excellent. Then you are dismissed until I call for you again!” Julius cried, turning around to go back to his throne and his book.

  Alex cleared his throat, and the king froze midway over the bridge leading to the central island. He turned in slow motion, a look of pure resentment upon his face, just as Alex opened his mouth to speak.

  “What about everyone else, Your Royal Highness?” he asked brazenly, knowing it would get him into trouble. Still, if he didn’t ask, no one would.

  “Why, you ungrateful little beast! How dare you come in here and make demands of me! I have given you plenty, and you ask for more? You vile wretch. You’re almost as bad as that disgusting half-breed, wanting everything, sucking the very life out of me with his mere presence! How DARE you!” Julius screamed, sprinting toward Alex and grasping him by the shoulders. He shook Alex as hard as he could, making Alex’s brain rattle, while jabbing a finger in the direction of the shamefaced Virgil.

  Alex thought he might be sick, the world juddering in front of him. “I… am sorry, Julius! I should not have asked… more of you. I am… grateful for all you have… offered. I was… simply concerned… for the people… down there, just as… you are no… doubt concerned for… them. They are… your people, after… all,” he said, managing to blurt out the words between shakes.

  Julius released Alex, sending him careening backward. He landed with an awkward splash in one of the streams, startling a small band of goldfish. Scrambling to his feet, he brushed the moisture from the back of his trousers, but Julius was already halfway back to his throne.

  The king shrugged, not bothering to turn around. “They aren’t your concern. I left them to my soldiers… though, I was tempted to escort them all through to Spellshadow Manor or Kingstone Keep and watch them all squirm as the mist took them.” He chuckled callously. “Mind you, I have no control over what my soldiers do—most of those at Starcross are probably already dead,” he added with a backward flick of his hand.

  Alex glanced over to where Venus was standing, and saw from her face that what her husband said wasn’t true. Her beautiful eyes said a thousand things, and none of them spelled out the deaths of the Starcross survivors. Whatever she knew, it was clear there was hope still for all those in the havens below.

  “You can go now,” Julius repeated, his tone carrying a warning. “But just so we’re clear, you will pay for what you’ve done, and you will pay for it with your life. I will come and collect you soon, to set the ritual in motion… So you had better start saying your prayers, Spellbreaker. Now, get out, before I start making alterati
ons to my offer,” he added coldly, keeping his back to Alex.

  Alex didn’t need telling twice. He turned to leave, but once again Julius called him back, apparently desiring one last moment of attention.

  “Oh, and Alex?”

  “Yes, Your Royal Highness?”

  “We’re having a mighty feast tonight, and you’re not invited,” the king said, sounding like a spoiled toddler.

  “I am sorry to hear that, Your Royal Highness,” Alex remarked, wanting to leave.

  Julius chuckled. “Are you? You see, Spellbreaker, I’ve asked that a special meal be prepared,” he continued, his eyes dancing with malice. “I wonder, have you ever tasted roasted Thunderbird?” he asked, his mouth twisting into a foul grin.

  Fury pulsed in every cell of Alex’s body. “Am I dismissed, Your Royal Highness?” he hissed through gritted teeth, spitting out every word as he fought back tears.

  “Yes, you are dismissed,” the king cackled.

  Turning from the throne room, Alex ran out into the vast foyer, darting past the young woman behind reception, hurtling down the spiral staircase two stairs at a time. At every level, he thought about jumping down past the guards and finding an escape route, but, the truth was, Julius had truly cornered him. Yes, there were soldiers keeping watch over every floor, and some following him, but it didn’t matter—Alex wouldn’t have run, even if they hadn’t been there.

  The king had his friends, and there was no way he was going to let them suffer for his fear.

  Chapter 23

  Alex returned to his room, watched by the keen eyes of guards along the hallways, and the ones following at his back, ensuring he went the right way, without making any detours. Although he knew he couldn’t make an escape, part of him wanted to search the grand palace for any sign of his friends. But everywhere he turned, more guards blocked his path. They were here, and that would have to be enough for now. He just hoped that, wherever they were, they were safe and warm, and being treated properly. The thought of them in a dank cell while he lived a life of luxury in a plush bedroom wasn’t something he wanted to dwell on, but he had confidence in the manipulative hand of Venus. With her around, he knew his friends might just be okay. Well, as long as what he was seeing wasn’t simply a well-rehearsed act, made to ensnare people in her trap.

  Once he had shut the double doors behind him, ignoring the sneers of the four guards outside, he let out a long, shaky sigh. His heart beat faster, his hands trembling, his mouth suddenly dry. Sinking down to the floor, he let the enormity of the meeting, and his loss, wash over him. All around him, he could feel the sand in the hourglass of his mortality hissing away, the world suddenly very small and desperately precious to him. Never before had he wanted to cling onto it so badly, knowing there was nothing he could do to hang on. Julius had signed his death warrant—now he just had to wait for his moment on the gallows.

  Tears pricked his eyes, and for once he let them fall. He was alone, so completely alone, facing his mortality head on. Holding his head in his hands, a wave of nausea crashed through him. He let it pass and kept his head down, his whole body shaking. Looking up slowly, he saw the billowing curtains and the marble balustrade beyond and, just for a second, wondered if he should just vault it and get it over and done with. If there weren’t something he needed to do first, he knew it’d be preferable.

  “I want to live,” he whispered to the vacant air.

  He stayed there for what seemed like hours, crouched in front of the double doors, trying to push the thought of what was to come from his mind. Julius had deliberately not given him a date or time, of that he was certain; it amped up the panic and paranoia, just the way the king liked his torture. The tears dried, and soon all Alex was left with was a numb ache of dread, pulsing deep in the pit of his stomach.

  He got up, dragging himself over to the bathroom. As he was about to reach for the door handle, there was a frantic knock at the bedroom door. Swiveling around, Alex frowned, not knowing who it could possibly be. He walked over to the double doors and tentatively opened one side, peering out to see who waited in the hallway.

  Virgil stood there, glancing up and down the corridor with anxious eyes.

  “You?” said Alex, dumbfounded to see the Head standing before him.

  Virgil nodded. “Can I come in for a moment?”

  “Why would I let you in?” Alex asked, hoping the skeletal man couldn’t see he’d been crying.

  Virgil rolled his eyes. “This again? Really? I thought we were over that.”

  Alex paused. Where there had been four guards, now there were none. “Wait, where are the guards?” he asked, puzzled.

  “Look, there’s no time to explain,” Virgil insisted, pushing past.

  Once the Head was in the chamber, there wasn’t much Alex could do but close the door and go back in, although not before taking one last look at the empty hallway. There was no sign of anyone, the entire length. It was a very tempting sight, but Virgil’s voice called him back to reality with a rude bump.

  “Don’t even think about it, Webber. There are still guards patrolling, I just managed to persuade your particular set to go elsewhere for a while,” he explained.

  Alex wandered over to where Virgil had taken up a seat at the small dining table where Alex’s satchel still lay, deflated with the book and vial now out on the bedcovers. Up close, the sunken-faced man looked even worse for wear. Bruises and cuts had formed a camouflage pattern across his features, and there seemed to be miniature bolts sticking out of his skin, the metal a dull gray, the wounds still sticky where the awful objects had been twisted in. Virgil grimaced every so often, jumping in his seat, like an electric shock had just gone off inside him. Peering closer, Alex could see that was exactly what was happening; tiny blue sparks jolted every couple of minutes, flickering in a pathway across the hybrid’s face.

  “What did he do to you?” Alex asked, genuinely concerned.

  Virgil brushed it off. “Nothing he hasn’t done to me before. He calls this his Frankenstein torture treatment—made it just for me one time, when I was in the stable and shouldn’t have been,” he explained, gesturing to the tiny bolts. “It’s been a while since I’ve endured this, I can tell you… but I’ll be fine. Anyway, I’m not here for sympathy, not that I’d expect to get any from you—even if this is partially your fault.”

  “How is that my fault?” Alex remarked.

  Virgil sighed. “I offered to take your place. I told Julius I wanted to do it. I told him I wanted to redeem myself, that I wouldn’t stand to see him force you… and this was his reply,” he explained solemnly.

  Alex glanced suspiciously at the Head, not really knowing why he was telling him this. It sounded true, and the mottled blue and black of his beat-up face certainly gave some credence to the story, but Alex couldn’t figure out Virgil’s reasoning behind sharing this with him. Perhaps, Alex thought, it was the Head’s way of showing that he could be trusted? If that was the case, it certainly went some way toward proving it. No sane person would come under the wrath of Julius, if there wasn’t a good reason behind it.

  “You really offered to take my place?” Alex asked, unable to keep the hint of doubt from his voice.

  Virgil nodded. “You may never believe me, but it is the truth,” he croaked.

  “Was that all you came here to say?”

  Virgil’s eyes flitted about the room, as though he were double-checking there wasn’t a guard dangling from the ceiling, or hiding in the enormous wardrobe. Once he appeared satisfied nobody was about to interrupt them, he opened his mouth to speak, leaning his elbows up onto the dining table for support.

  “I came to tell you that the students still at Starcross are all fine, despite what my stepfather would have you believe,” he began. “A few are injured, and those who didn’t make it have been buried, but the rest are alive and well. They are under the perpetual watch of a large army of soldiers, and they have been corralled into pens, presumably so Julius can deal w
ith them swiftly at a later date, when he can bring himself to be bothered about them. He’ll probably do a quick cull at some point down the line, but we are hopeful it will never get to that.” A strange smile pulled at the taut skin of his face, causing the swollen cut on his lip to bleed afresh.

  Alex fetched him a tissue. “‘We’?”

  “Thank you,” said Virgil, dabbing his lip. “Yes, we—Hadrian, Ceres, and I. Ceres and I have had many discussions in my time at Starcross, and they have been somewhat enlightening. With her words, I have found parts of myself I thought were long dead, buried with the boy I once was. Sorry, I shouldn’t get bogged down in the past…” He trailed off, staring out at the view beyond the French doors.

  Alex listened intently, eager to learn more about this strange man who had been his arch-nemesis not so long ago, but was now something else entirely. What he was to him, Alex had yet to figure out, but it was becoming clearer with each meeting.

  “No, go on,” Alex encouraged, but it was clear the moment had passed.

  “It doesn’t matter,” Virgil said, shaking his head. “Where was I? Ah yes—so, Ceres and I had many discussions in the windmill at Starcross, and one of those was a plan of action, should the place be captured. As planned, Hadrian is still at Falleaf, under no suspicion whatsoever, because he managed to do the impossible task of getting Julius to believe he wasn’t involved in any of it. That nervous tic he has is a veritable pot of gold when it comes to persuading someone you’d do anything not to be killed,” he explained, chuckling softly. “So, Hadrian told the king that Ceres had been blackmailing him and taking students in the middle of the night, without his consent. Once captured, Ceres admitted to it to Julius’s face, to back up her brother, in the hopes of keeping that alliance with the king open, should it come in handy again one day soon,” he continued, pausing to flash Alex a curious look. “Am I boring you yet?”