The ghost whirled in the air, showing an image of Ellabell, trapped by the mouth of the demon. All around her, the walls were beginning to close in, moving closer and closer to her. Though Alex couldn’t hear the sound of her scream, he could see her mouth opening wide in silent panic.
“No!” Alex said, wishing he could reach through the vision and free Ellabell from her prison.
“It has to be one of us,” Aamir said somberly.
Lintz shook his head. “No, dear boy, it has to be me.”
“We need to talk about this!” Aamir insisted.
“I am already on borrowed time, Aamir Nagi.” Lintz sighed. “I lied back there, Alex, when I told you I didn’t look the specters in the eye. I did. I did, and I-I know what that means. I know that they will come for me. It has to be me who gives myself. I will die, one way or the other—in truth, I am already dead. I was dead the moment I looked into their eyes. I cannot cheat the specters, and I cannot cheat death,” he said, his voice laced with sorrow. “At long last, I will be reunited with all those I have lost.”
“You won’t need to die, Professor. I’ll make sure this spell gets done as quickly as possible, and I’ll come back and set you free when it is,” Alex promised. “We’ll find a way to keep the specters at bay, I swear it.”
“A noble thought, and one I hope comes true, but I don’t think there is time.” Lintz smiled. “Now, Ellabell needs you, so I’ll tell you all you need to know as quickly as I can. Hadrian can help to open any portals you might need opened. Make sure you read the spell carefully, and don’t be duped by any tricks the other royals might throw at you. Oh, and if you get your chance to be free, all of you… take it. Promise me you’ll take it?”
Alex nodded slowly, unable to process what was happening. “You’ll be coming with us, Professor.”
He grinned, but it did not quite reach his eyes. “I’ll wait.”
With a quick shake of hands and a pat on the back for his dear students, Lintz darted toward the red orb of Jupiter and clasped his hand around it.
“I vouch for this person. They are worthy of the prize,” he said.
With a sickening whoosh, Lintz began to disintegrate, his body being sucked into the mechanism. Alex watched with open-mouthed horror as the diorama absorbed him. First his hands, then his arms, then his torso, followed by his head, his stomach, his legs, and, at last, his feet. The orb glowed orange for a moment before dimming to a simple planet again.
Slowly, the clock began to tick, sounding Lintz’s death knell.
Chapter 13
Alex plucked the book out of the compartment, his eyes snapping to the vision of Ellabell. The walls had ceased closing in on her, and relief flooded her expression. A moment later, the jaws of the demon sprang open, releasing her.
Alex watched on the gauzy screen until she had ducked through the now-open door and made her way back to them. He could hear her footsteps running along the narrow corridor leading toward the library, and his arms were open and waiting as she sprinted into the room. She ran to him, wrapping her arms around his waist.
“I was so sure that I was going to—” She paused, breathing sharply.
He leveled his gaze at her. “If I had known that was going to happen—” he began, still a little mad at her.
“Then someone else would have had to stay,” she cut him off, her determined expression showing she was still satisfied with the choice she’d made. “I did what I had to do. That’s as much as any of us can do here, to get through this. It can’t always be up to you, Alex,” she added, not unkindly. There was a soft affection in her voice, laced with a steely undercurrent.
“I didn’t say it was always up to me,” he replied quietly.
“Of course not, but I know what you’re like. You want to protect, but you forget that others can protect too, and sometimes you’re the one who needs saving.” She smiled.
“I just… I worry about you, that’s all.” He sighed, his shoulders slumping.
She squeezed his hand tightly. “And that is what I love about you,” she said, the word “love” flowing easily from her mouth. “It’s also what irritates the hell out of me. You just need to know I’m no damsel, and you’re no hero—we’re a team, a partnership, shouldering equal responsibility. Once you see that, you won’t worry so much.”
“I think I’ll always worry too much about you,” he said softly.
“Alex, look,” Aamir said, shattering the moment. He was pointing toward the side of the room, where a doorway had appeared. It hadn’t been there before, and Alex could feel the chill of a breeze wafting through.
Putting his arm around Ellabell, he walked toward the newly opened door, with Aamir bringing up the rear. It led out into the depths of the forest, the air growing still around them. It had started to rain, and a light drizzle met their faces as they rose from the underground tomb. As soon as Aamir was through, the side door slammed shut, closing the vault.
Ellabell glanced back, startled. “Where’s Lintz?”
“He sacrificed himself so we could have the book,” Alex explained sadly.
“He’s dead?” she gasped.
Alex shook his head. “No, not dead… Well, not exactly. He told us he looked the specters in the eye—I guess they don’t leave you alone once you’ve done that. Now, he has to stay in the vault, as the price for us taking the book, but I’m hoping we can free him, if we’re quick with the spell, and get the book back as soon as possible. I’m sure he can survive long enough,” he said, though he wasn’t convinced in the slightest. It stung to admit it, but he had a sinking feeling that Lintz was already dead. Even if they could return to the vault in time, he knew the specters wouldn’t rest until they dragged Lintz down with them.
It did little to comfort Ellabell, though Alex could tell she was trying to put on a brave face. It was what they were all trying to do, silently sharing the knowledge that the professor was likely lost to them.
“You three!” A familiar voice called to them from the trees. Hadrian crept from the darkness, his expression anxious. “You made it? Where is the professor?”
Alex gave another quick rundown of what had happened, and watched as Hadrian’s face fell. It seemed the royal had known it might have been the case, from the weary weight that made his shoulders sag and his brow crease.
“I’m sorry for that,” he said kindly. “The p-price is always high.”
“Did you know this would happen?” Alex asked, his tone accusatory.
Hadrian gave a slight nod, wringing his hands. “I had an inkling. It has happened before, but the game often changes, so I couldn’t be certain.”
“You didn’t think to tell us?”
Hadrian winced. “I couldn’t, Alex. The vault knows when assistance has been given. B-besides, what would you have done if you had known? Would you h-have given up the book?” the royal scrutinized him with nervously darting eyes, and Alex found he didn’t have an answer. In truth, no matter what the price, they would have had to pay it. It wasn’t just their own lives at stake—the whole picture was so much bigger than them, and as much as he hated to admit it, Alex knew they probably still would have had to go through, even if they’d known beforehand.
“I guess not,” Alex finally replied, though his eyes glanced back toward the vault door. “Are you sure I can’t just write down the spell and put the book back?”
Hadrian shook his head. “With this p-particular counter-spell, the book must bear witness—the book must gauge the s-sincerity of the performer.”
Alex clutched the book tighter in his hands. He would have to make sure he didn’t lose it, or let it fall into the wrong hands. If the book had to be present at the counter-spell performance, he was determined to keep it safe, leaving it under the watch of trustworthy guardians when it wasn’t safe for him to have it by his side.
“Will we have to return here when the spell is done?” Alex asked, reluctant to step away. It was stupid, but part of him felt like he was abandon
ing Lintz, and the pull of those ties was unbearably painful.
“Since it has never been successfully completed, it is not known. The book may need to be returned by h-hand, or it may disappear by itself, as it does when the spell f-fails three times,” Hadrian said, his eyes flitting toward the tree-line. “Come, we must get you to safety,”
Alex still felt reluctant to go, but the book was calling his name as the group followed Hadrian. It was a slow trek through the damp woods, the exit to the vault having popped up a long way from the pagoda, but eventually the grand structure appeared in the distance. Hadrian carried a small device, shaped like a long, slender pen, with him that seemed to scope out any traps or devices lurking in the dingy forest, its presence leading them safely back, without incident.
It didn’t deal with guards, however. That’s what Hadrian was for. Ensuring the coast was clear by sending several troops off to see to broken-down traps, the royal ushered them into the pagoda and up the stairs, to the very top floor, where he had had chambers prepared for them. It was a kindness Alex had not expected, and the thought behind the act made him thaw slightly toward the man.
On the low table in the central space, another feast had been laid out for them. Alex eyed it with suspicion, his mind still dwelling on the moldering, bug-infested fare that the vault had offered them. The others didn’t seem too keen either, though everyone sat dutifully, at Hadrian’s behest. Alex put the book on the floor next to him, desperate to delve into its pages, but not wanting to appear rude to his host. After the others had helped themselves, he reached for one of the sour, berry-filled rice balls. It tasted good, but his mind lay with the book beside him.
With a shiver of anticipation, he slyly lifted the cover. To his surprise, the inner page was filled with the same glyphs and markings that had been in Leander Wyvern’s notebook. There were no complete words, only code. The sight thrilled him, making him feel as if it contained a secret solely for his eyes. He didn’t feel right opening it while the others were around, not when he knew it was of true Spellbreaker origin. In addition, he felt he ought to at least look at the pages on his own first, to make sure there was nothing dangerous within. After the loss of Lintz, he didn’t want to put anyone else in harm’s way if he didn’t have to. He would tell them what it contained later, but first, he wanted to take time to pore over the text.
“I’m not that hungry,” he announced. “I think I’m just going to have a look at this book, then hit the hay.”
Hadrian looked up, a stern expression on his noble face. “It can wait, Alex. You must properly honor the sacrifice that Professor Lintz made by giving thanks and sparing a silent moment for his courage. It would not be right to continue without having done so. Given the amount you still must do, the truth is…you might not get back to him in time. I believe we must honor the Professor as if he were already gone, though the flicker of hope may remain.”
Alex felt a pang of guilt. “Sorry, Hadrian, you’re right,” he murmured. It wasn’t simply his secret—it was theirs too, and he needed to show the proper respect. Picking up a glass of lurid green liquid, he raised it across the table. “To Professor Lintz, who gave us so much—the bravest man I’ve ever met.”
Alex’s use of the past tense didn’t go unnoticed. A solemn, heavy air hung low over the feast, as the others picked up their glasses and repeated the words, clinking afterwards. Alex lifted the drink to his lips and sipped tentatively. The color of the drink was garish, but it tasted delicious, somewhere between an apple and a kiwi.
As well as food, the group shared their sadness. Tears welled in the eyes of all those present as the hope they’d had for Lintz’s return faded by the second. It was clear now that the chance of his release was improbably slim—a couple of days wouldn’t be quick enough to avoid the specters, and though Alex couldn’t explain it, it felt like the professor had already gone. His spirit soared around them, an almost tangible presence, and Alex knew it would be a long while before the wound of Lintz’s loss healed. He had to put it beside the scar Gaze’s passing had left, and hope he wouldn’t have to add any more to his internal cemetery before their journey was done.
“I shouldn’t have let Lintz do it,” murmured Aamir, his face crumpling. “I should have insisted.”
“We all know Lintz would never have chosen differently,” said Alex, his tone somber. “He wouldn’t have let you do it. Even if he hadn’t looked the specters in the eyes, he would still have done what he did.”
Aamir nodded, but Alex could see the older boy was plagued by doubt. It wasn’t easy to think of outcomes that might have played out, if only one action had been altered.
Tapping the side of the glass absently, Alex’s mind turned toward Kingstone. Seeing the specters again made him contemplate the fate of Caius and Vincent, and that of Alypia too. When he had left, they had all been in a bad state, with the exception of Alypia, perhaps, but it troubled him. He had to go back at some point, to relay messages of progress to those at Stillwater, but also to check that everything was still in order. If Vincent had managed to overcome Caius, Alex was sure the necromancer would be holding back any chaos that might have ensued. However, if he hadn’t managed to overcome Caius, there was no telling what state the prison might be in.
Alypia might have escaped, he thought, the prospect a chilling one. It made a return visit to the keep a necessity.
He knew that he could use the still-open portal at the keep to pass a message through to Natalie, Jari, and Helena, and make sure everything was okay on their side. After everything that had gone on since the two groups parted ways, he felt bad for not having thought more of them, but there had been a lot of other things taking up his headspace. He just hoped they were okay, and were safe at Stillwater, though he wasn’t looking forward to telling them about Lintz when he saw them again.
Alex glanced down at the book beside him, and thought of the promises held within its pages. Caius had believed the mages didn’t deserve to be saved, what with the genocide they had wrought. But how had the two races come to despise each other in the first place? He had never thought to ask.
“Hadrian, do you know what it was that started the war between the mages and the Spellbreakers?” Alex asked. The others looked at the royal with interest, as if they too had been thinking about it.
Hadrian gave a wan smile. “It’s a long story, but I’ll tell the short version,” he promised, his stutter fading to nothing as he relaxed. “My grandfather, Titus, the king at the time, was a strong believer in equality between the races. The leader of the Spellbreaker Houses was also a strong believer in peace. You see, there were whole towns and cities that were split by race, and though Spellbreakers and mages lived almost side by side, they rarely fraternized. It was frowned upon, but my father and the leaders of the Spellbreaker Houses were keen to see an integration.
“My uncle, Julius, was not. He was the face of those who wanted the integration efforts to fail. There were peace talks going on, and, during one of them, my grandfather was assassinated—at the hand of a Spellbreaker, they said, but I have my own theories on that one. I believe it was made to look like it was a Spellbreaker, when really it was done by the hand of a mage.
“Naturally, Julius took control of the throne, and had the leaders of the Houses executed. Both sides were enraged, and it led to war. Spellbreakers fled the supposedly integrated towns and cities, and many mages too—all those who wanted to be as far from the conflict as possible. I helped smuggle many mages out into the non-magical world, which is where you must have come from.” Hadrian gestured toward Ellabell and Aamir. “You are their descendants. Their identities were kept secret, to avoid any kind of retribution, but I suppose nobody is able to outrun my uncle forever.”
“Is that why Finder was sent for us?” Ellabell asked.
Hadrian nodded. “Julius knew refugees had escaped, and he put it to my cousin, Virgil, to find a way to seek them out, even if it took a generation or two.”
“So m
uch death,” Alex whispered, more to himself than anyone else.
“That is war,” Hadrian replied solemnly. “We saved as many as we could, but the death toll was overwhelming.”
“You didn’t think the Spellbreakers might have needed refuge?” Alex muttered.
Hadrian winced. “A fair p-point. We did not do enough, and for that, I am sorry. I can’t even b-begin to imagine the loss you must feel,” he said, his stutter returning with Alex’s confrontation. It seemed that whenever the royal was frightened or felt cornered, the stammer in his voice came back, a tic brought on by his ever-present nervousness.
“It hurts more, the more I find out,” Alex admitted. It was a lot to process, thinking how the mages had staged an assassination, leading to a war that wiped out his people. He felt overwhelmed, needing solitude. “I’m sorry, I’m really not hungry. Please, excuse me.”
Nobody stopped him as he got up and left the table, heading for the room on the far side that had been designated as his. Sitting down in a chair by the fireplace, he rested the book on his lap, his mind too full of other things to really get into the pages. All he could think about were the executed leaders of his people and the suffering that had ensued. So many people running for their lives, only to be snuffed out at the end of it all.
He sat there, mulling it over, trying to make sense of it, feeling the weight of the book on his knees. Before he opened it, he thought once more of Lintz, and the sacrifice the professor had made for the book Alex held in his hands. Alex would miss the comforting boom of the professor’s voice, and knew the world would feel too quiet without it. Lintz had always been warmhearted despite enduring his own share of heartbreak and disappointment. Alex felt sorry that the professor would never get to see the sister he had waited so many years for, in the hope she’d appear at the gates of Spellshadow. He knew that Lintz would continue to wait, at a very different set of gates, until the day they were finally reunited.
The Secret of Spellshadow Manor 5 Page 10
