The Secret of Spellshadow Manor 4

by Bella Forrest

  Alex jumped as a voice pierced the air above him. Instinctively, he ducked, not quite knowing how it would help him.

  “Admiring the view?” the voice called from the balcony.

  How he hadn’t seen the man standing there or heard his cane on the floor, Alex didn’t know, but he sensed trickery at work—some kind of illusion or camouflage. The man was certainly pale enough to match the façade. Alex felt bile rise up his throat as he examined the figure more closely. The man was old, his hair white, though not the kind of white brought on by old age. It was a particular kind of white, one Alex instantly recognized. Keen golden eyes glanced down from their vantage point, clearly scrutinizing Alex, trying to assess the threat he presented.

  Caius, at long last.

  “You needn’t be afraid. I’m no danger to you,” the man said, the softness in his clear, almost musical voice taking Alex by surprise. “I believe you must be looking for the girl, yes?”

  Mention of Ellabell brought Alex back to his senses, and he braced himself, trying to prepare for the fight ahead. Above him, the man he knew to be Caius had disappeared from the balcony, but he could hear the scuffle of feet within the town hall, growing gradually closer. Caius was almost upon him. Alex raised his hands, ready to battle to the death.

  Only, the fight did not come.

  “Put your hands down, my boy. There’s no fight in this old dog.” Caius smiled, the expression utterly confusing to Alex, who had been expecting something far more dramatic. “Come on in. You’ll see I mean you no harm.”

  Tentatively, his hands still raised, Alex followed Caius as he limped into the town hall’s foyer and up the remnants of a grand stairwell, which had what looked like brass pineapples sticking up at the bottom of each curving banister. Old paintings hung on the walls, but they were so rotten, the canvases so moth-eaten, that Alex couldn’t make out many of the images upon them. He thought he saw the mountain in one, a flash of lightning jolting down in a jagged scar across the paintwork, though it could just as easily have been a tear. Still, it left him pondering whether the storm ever went away, and what mad feat of weather kept it there—perhaps it was the magic of the realm, drawing it in, keeping it brewing.

  At the top of the stairs, Caius led Alex across the landing toward a room at the front of the building, where he must have accessed the balcony, Alex realized. Inside, there was a study of sorts, a fire roaring in the grate to keep out the mountain chill. Curled up beside the flames was Ellabell, fast asleep on a thick, clean rug, smothered in intricately woven blankets with various vivid patterns that reminded Alex of Native American textiles he’d seen when he was younger. As far as he could tell, she looked unharmed, her slumber a peaceful one.

  Alex’s heart felt as if it were about to burst with relief. There she was, seemingly safe and sound. He wanted to run over to her and check that she was okay, but Caius’s voice distracted him.

  “Don’t wake the poor girl. She’s had a tough time,” he said, sitting in one of the armchairs that stood a short distance away from the fire and the sleeping Ellabell. Caius set his cane against the chair, and Alex noticed that the cane’s silver top seemed to be in the shape of a falcon’s head. “May I offer you a drink?”

  Alex raised an eyebrow, still wary of this stranger. “Why should I trust you?” he muttered, musing upon those very words. Why was he still standing here? Why hadn’t he lifted his hands and made the first move? Why had Caius let him approach? There were so many questions, and only one who could answer them.

  “Come now, let’s not get off on the wrong foot,” said Caius softly, gesturing toward the armchair opposite him. “Join me by the fire—we’ll talk, we’ll drink tea, and then we’ll see if you still want to blow my head off.”

  Alex hesitated.

  “Please, if you’re thinking of trying to fight me, I would strongly advise you not to. It would be futile, for you and for me,” he said calmly. “You see, your anger is misplaced… I am not the kidnapper you are looking for.”

  Chapter 18

  The old man was a mystery, a million miles away from the villainous monster Alex had been expecting, the polar opposite of his cruel brother. Although Caius greatly resembled King Julius, there was a welcoming quality to him that reminded Alex of his grandfather, and as much as he tried to stir up thoughts of combat and gaining the upper hand, the warden was one step ahead, warning him against it with his gentle gaze.

  “What do you mean, you’re not the kidnapper I’m after?” Alex asked, still not taking the seat opposite the old man.

  “Exactly as I say—I am not the kidnapper you are looking for,” he replied, matter-of-factly. From an elegant crystal decanter, he poured two glasses of blood-red liquid. Alex eyed them cautiously. “It’s not poison, I promise. I thought you could use something to warm you up.” Caius smiled, a natural expression of warmth washing over his wrinkled face.

  Alex frowned. “I thought you said we’d drink tea.”

  “And indeed we shall—this is more medicinal than flavorsome, sadly,” he explained, pushing the glinting crystal glass across the small table between the two armchairs. “Come, sit. It’ll do you no good hovering over there like a baffled hornet. You have questions. I am happy to answer them, but only if there is civility between the two of us. I can understand your hesitation, and even your wrath, but I assure you, you have nothing to fear from me—undoubtedly you believe otherwise, but I swear it upon whatever you’d like me to swear upon. I am the architect of my own reputation. I know how I appear on paper; I have written the pages myself, tearing a few from my brother’s book, but you will find me quite surprising if you take the time to sit and talk, like two ordinary beings.” He gestured once more to the chair opposite him.

  This time, Alex obliged, though he felt a little strange, sitting across from a known sadist with Ellabell a short distance away, breathing softly beneath the blankets, the glow of orange flames dancing upon her peaceful face. It was a deep sleep she was under, that much was clear.

  “What have you done to her?” he asked, flashing an accusatory look at Caius.

  “A small spell to make her sleep, no more.”

  The admission made Alex bristle. He wanted to snatch her up and take her back to the keep as quickly as he could, and yet something kept him in his place, his curiosity piqued.

  “Before you jump to conclusions, let me explain that it was for her own benefit. I am not the heartless fiend you have no doubt been informed I am,” he sighed. “I found her barely conscious at the foot of the mountain, frozen to the bone, shivering so much she almost cracked her teeth, they were chattering that hard. I did what I had to and brought her back here as quickly as possible, to get her temperature back up. I fed her, warmed her, and wove a little spell to help her sleep, to let her forget the nightmares that kept her from drifting off.”

  Alex frowned. “Nightmares?”

  “She kept murmuring something about being too afraid to sleep, but she had clearly been through a traumatic time and needed to rest. I simply helped calm her mind so she could do so,” he explained with a cursory nod.

  We have all been through a traumatic time, Alex thought bitterly, though he didn’t speak the words as Caius continued.

  “I have no idea how she came to be there, at the bottom of the mountain path, but I made sure she was safe. You have my word on that.”

  “Why should I believe a single thing you say? I’ve heard about you—I know the stories. I can’t trust anything that comes out of your mouth,” Alex remarked coldly, glancing down at the sleeping figure in the blankets, wondering what had happened to her. It had seemed unlikely it was anyone other than Caius who had snatched her, considering what they had tried to do to his prison, but now he wasn’t so sure. Caius was convincing, Alex had to give him that.

  Caius smiled sadly. “As I say, I am the architect of my own reputation—I have been forced to make it so. I am not the character I have created, but I have to make everyone believe I am. As I say, m
ost of it is stolen from my brother’s playbook, though I could never be as utterly heartless as he. That man is a true monster, whereas I am simply the illusion of one,” he said. “Do you truly believe I could keep that place in order if they did not fear me?”

  Alex shrugged. “I suppose not… but they aren’t all criminals. Why keep them there if they haven’t done anything wrong?”

  “No, you are right—they aren’t all criminals, but many of them are, and the ones who are, are not the kinds of people you want out in the world. In order to control the worst of them, I have to control them all. I am made to abide by the rules of those above me as much as anyone else is. And no, it isn’t right and it isn’t fair, but I have to oversee it consistently, or the true crooks would crucify me. You aren’t stupid, my boy; I can see a sharp mind in that head of yours. Those with evil in their hearts would seek to overthrow me if they saw the man you see before you now,” he explained. “My reputation is fierce, and it keeps everyone safe. I rule from afar to keep the balance from tipping.”

  Alex scrutinized the old man, with his flowing white hair and shrewd golden eyes, and wondered how much he could trust what came from Caius’s lips. Alex didn’t exactly have a good track record with royals, and he wasn’t sure this encounter would be any different, though there was something sincere about the old man that was impossible to ignore.

  “I think I’ll hold onto my disbelief for now. Your extended family and I haven’t exactly seen eye-to-eye in the past, and I haven’t decided where you fit into all of this,” Alex said evenly, meaning every word. “I even had the pleasure of coming face-to-face, or rather nose-to-nose, with your brother. I believe he is every word of what you say he is, and he seems less than happy with you.”

  Caius frowned. “You met Julius?”

  Alex nodded. “We were trying to lure you out of hiding. We broke down a section of your barrier, and he appeared… He left a stern warning for you.”

  “A warning, was it?”

  “I think the gist of it was, if he has to come to the keep again, there will be dire consequences,” Alex explained. “He said he wants you to begin extracting more essence, too,” he added, wanting to gauge Caius’s reaction.

  The old man was thoughtful for a moment. “He’s been wanting that for years. If he wants more, he can come and get it himself. Once upon a time, I feared him like you would fear the most crippling of nightmares, but at my age, there is little left he can do to me that he has not already done,” the warden said, a faraway look in his eyes.

  “Is this some kind of show, to prove to me you’re not like the royals I have met before—Alypia, her brother, and her father?” Alex asked.

  “A fair question, though I honestly believe you will not find me quite as unpalatable as the royals you have already encountered.” Caius smiled wryly. “Alypia was never a favorite of mine, though I think you judge her brother a little too harshly. I would not tar him with the same brush as Alypia and Julius.”

  Alex begged to differ, but said nothing, not wanting to break the warden’s train of thought. Caius rested a thoughtful finger on his chin.

  “Yes, he might have been passable had he not followed Alypia around like a little puppy, clinging all the harder the more she beat him. I am not like them, and I am certainly no reflection of my brother—I do not seek out conflict as they do, but avoid it where I can. Nor do I rule out of pleasure; I rule out of necessity. I am the warden of Kingstone so that somebody worse is not. In fact, you would probably find my sentiments more in line with your own, especially where the Crown’s own is concerned.” He chuckled softly to himself, though there was a hint of bitterness behind the laughter.

  “I can’t imagine we share any of the same values,” Alex retorted.

  “Though I am technically a royal, I am no royalist. A few times in my long history I have betrayed the Crown, but they can’t simply lock you away, not when you’re the brother of the king.” He smirked, a flash of something strange glinting across his golden eyes. “And my dear brother did so hate that small disclaimer.”

  Alex gaped. “You betrayed the Crown?”

  Caius nodded. “Ah, that got your attention,” he teased, a smile lifting the corners of his thin lips. “I did it on more than one occasion—we had differing opinions, shall we say, the Crown and I. And when I say the Crown, I mean my brother Julius. My father’s opinions, rest his soul, were probably just as unpopular as my own, but he wasn’t there when war came and my brother sat on the throne. And so, my views were my undoing, especially considering my relation to the top dog, but I think you would appreciate the stance I took.”

  The last few words and the knowing expression upon Caius’s face took Alex slightly aback, making him wonder how much the warden had known about him before his arrival at this place. It worried him as much as it intrigued him, but he knew Caius could have done away with him already, if that were what he wanted. So far, Alex thought, Caius didn’t look as if he had any such intention.

  “Why would I appreciate anything you’ve done?” Alex asked.

  “Because of what you are,” Caius said simply, pouring two cups of tea and passing one to Alex, who took it automatically, too distracted by Caius’s words to do otherwise.

  “And what is that?” Alex asked.

  Caius smiled. “The last of your kind. The last Spellbreaker.”

  So Caius knew quite a bit about him, then. Alex’s heart beat a little faster.

  “Who told you that? Was it Alypia? Did you see something?” he muttered, knowing his flimsy cover was blown.

  Caius shook his head. “Nothing so mundane,” he replied. “I was firm friends with many of your kind, back in the day… I could never forget the sensation and scent of being near one of you, like being too close to lightning in a thunderstorm.” A wistful look glazed his golden eyes for a brief moment, his thoughts visibly distracted.

  Alex was stunned by the revelation. “You were friends with Spellbreakers?”

  “It’s how I know what to look for,” Caius explained, making Alex feel instantly less self-conscious about his potential “scent.” A wave of nostalgia seemed to ripple across Caius’s face. “They were glorious times, the times I spent among your kind. My great love was one of yours—the truest, purest love I have ever known. My dearest Guinevere. In all the time since and all the time before, I could never replicate it. If I had a thousand years more, I would never find it again. That girl was as rare as the very love we shared,” he said, his eyes growing misty. “I haven’t thought about her in a long while… much too painful. Anyway, that is how I came to know and love your kind. Guinevere showed me peace, and the loss of her only caused my support of the Spellbreakers to grow. I was almost glad of it when they sent me here, to take care of this place.”

  “Let me guess—strike one?” Alex asked, unexpectedly moved by the old man’s speech. For a moment, it seemed as if Caius had almost forgotten Alex was there with him, his mind lost in a bygone world with long-gone players.

  Caius nodded. “Strike one indeed. Though, as I said, the king isn’t really in the habit of punishing other royals—or rather, he isn’t allowed. Even kings have to follow rules,” he said with a knowing smile. “He simply exiles them to a place where the others can forget they ever existed, and pops in every now and again, throwing his weight around to remind everyone who is in charge. Not to mention the little alarms he has hidden around the place, to alert him if I should slip up. Undoubtedly, that is what happened when you tried to break down my barrier magic.” He gave a conspiratorial wink.

  “You’re not mad?” Alex asked, slightly confused.

  Caius shrugged. “I have little time for bearing grudges. As long as nobody dangerous escaped, I have nothing to be angry about. The barrier is back up, and everyone is safe.”

  The old man’s nonchalance surprised Alex, and his revelation about Julius’s means of ridding himself of errant royals made Alex think of the Head, no doubt exiled to Spellshadow to be kept out of the
way, where he couldn’t be an embarrassment to anyone with his hybrid abnormalities. A place where everyone could just forget he ever existed. Had he not hated the Head, Alex knew he might have felt sorry for the hooded creature.

  “So, the Head at Spellshadow Manor, he was an exile too?” Alex asked.

  Caius frowned for a second before understanding shifted his features into a grim smile. “You mean Virgil—our little mixed disgrace? I was wondering if you might have learned his secret. Spellbreakers have always had a knack for seeking one another out, though I suppose he doesn’t exactly count,” he mused, tapping the side of his cup thoughtfully. “Yes, I suppose that must have been why they sent him to oversee a haven. Like me, an abomination—all of us, outcasts, though Alypia would no doubt argue she was still in favor.” He grinned.

  Alex couldn’t help it—he was warming to this man with the easy grin and the frankly extraordinary revelations. He also couldn’t help but find it strange to hear the Head referred to by anything other than “the Head.” To give him a name humanized him somehow, making him seem less of a monster and more of an actual, tangible human being.

  Virgil. Virgil. Virgil. Alex let the name roll around in his mind a few times, but no matter how many times he envisioned it, it still felt wrong.

  “That girl, honestly,” Caius sighed, shaking his head. “Alypia has always been like her father. They are two vile peas in an equally vile pod, though I doubt she will ever reach the same lofty climes of cruelty as him. Ever since she was little, she would copy her father’s ways, punishing her brother and lording her power over everyone else, torturing the serving staff and such. I could never keep her in check. Who knows, perhaps I looked less frightening back then?” He laughed, pulling his cheeks back a little to smooth out the wrinkles. “Though I doubt she’d listen to me now, either.”