As he walked on alone, he remembered the last time he had come this way, with the chambers of rotting four-poster beds with moth-eaten drapes that smelled damply of age and mildew. The rooms of people who had long since departed. He almost didn’t stop as he came to the door of the small chamber he had seen before—the stone chamber with the manacles dangling from the ceiling above a slickly covered grate. The pull of the strange room was magnetic to him. Alex pushed open the door. The metallic tang of blood and fear still rose pungently from within, filling his nostrils with the nauseating scent as he stepped inside. He couldn’t help but revisit this place, curiosity getting the better of him.
Yeah, and curiosity killed the cat, he thought dryly as he closed the door quietly behind him.
The room was little changed. Above the center grate, smothered in gray ivy, were the grim manacles, dangling limply from the ceiling. Beneath, the ground glinted with the same sticky, sinister residue as before, the smell of blood growing stronger as Alex drew closer to the grate. To the side of the room, the same foul painting of a gaping mouth with layer on layer of savage teeth and a lashing tongue still hung above the small wooden table, which was strewn with tools and something new that made Alex’s stomach turn. A wide-brimmed hat lay on the very edge of the tabletop, tattered and frayed at the edges—undeniably similar to the hat Derhin had worn on the day of his last battle, the hat that had given him a brief advantage over Aamir. Beside it were the bladeless knife and the ordinary-looking clipboard.
Alex wandered over, glad to be away from the grate’s sickening stench and the slick substance that glistened in the semi-darkness of the chamber. Cautiously, he picked up the steel hilt of the bladeless knife and felt a sudden rush of energy course through his forearm, oddly cold, as a blade appeared at the end of the handle. The silver blade glowed with radiant white light, solid and menacing. Holding it up in awe, Alex caught sight of something peculiar as the brightness of the knife’s blade cast a silvery glow across the room. At the opposite end of the chamber, buried beneath a dense mass of gray ivy, stood a thin wooden door, the black handle just visible beneath the layered leaves. He must have missed it in the rush of his last, hurried visit to the chamber.
Putting the knife down, Alex moved toward the door, skirting around the grate and feeling his foot slip in something vile. Shuddering, he rested his hand on the door handle, trying to avoid the ivy that hung across the wood as he pushed against it, but the door wouldn’t budge. It was locked.
Slowly, Alex covered the lock with his palm and conjured a small ball of black-and-silver anti-magic, focusing the blast of it into the center of the lock. There was a quiet crack as the door gave against the shove of his shoulder.
In the room behind the first stretched a long antechamber, filled with row upon row of wooden shelves, stacked neatly with small black bottles. Though there were no windows, the room was somehow filled with a dim light, just bright enough to see by. Alex squinted into the long room, wondering if it was another wine cellar. As he ventured farther along, he realized the bottles were far too small for wine, and they seemed to glow dully from within, like fading fireflies, pulsing with a dimmed red color behind the black glass.
Leaning closer to some of the racks, Alex saw they were labelled with dates. One rack had 1909 written in curling black ink underneath, but there weren’t any bottles on that one. Frowning, he saw that only the most recently dated racks were full—the shelves closest to the door. Behind those, many were empty.
Horror gripped his stomach as he hurried back up the length of the room and reached for a bottle on the first rack. Illuminated by the dim red glow within, Alex almost dropped the bottle as the letters on the label lit up. In the dim pulse, he felt sick as he read the name over and over, wanting to be sure.
It read R. Derhin.
As he closed his hand around the bottle, gripping it tightly in his palm, Alex felt the energy radiate from within as color rippled out from the dark glass, causing the world around him to bend and distort as the ground rushed away from him and his body tumbled through darkness, into oblivion.
Chapter 21
As the world stopped spinning and the rush of air slowed to a light breeze, Alex found himself floating unseen above a familiar setting. Students rushed past below him, dressed in black, their laughter echoing down the hallways as they pushed and shoved in small groups, chattering away about the trials of the day ahead. Everything seemed more colorful, with only narrow patches of gray ivy creeping from the chilly stone walls and cracks in the flagstones, hardly noticeable and easily kicked away by a stray foot as students trod over it. There were more students than Alex had ever seen at the manor, the corridors crowded with young men and women.
As he scanned the students below, his eyes were drawn to two boys, on the border between boyhood and manhood, laughing mischievously as they perched side by side on one of the deep windowsills. They were faces he had seen before, though slightly older than these iterations. It was unmistakably them. Lintz and Derhin, smiling and joking, laughing about a mishap Lintz had had with one of his bombs in the mechanics lab, Lintz gesturing to the two ungainly bandages wrapped tightly around his hands where he had managed to burn himself. Derhin was grinning, his face youthful and boyish, his hair jet black and his dark blue eyes glittering in amusement as his friend recounted the tale. Lintz was wincing through a belly laugh as he explained how the bomb had gone off just as Professor Gaze had come into the lab, doing a dramatic impression of the scream she had given. Derhin howled beside him, holding his ribs as the laughter pealed from them both.
Lintz’s ginger hair flopped over his lightly freckled face, smooth and fresh with youth, as he tried to wipe away the giddy tears with his bandaged hands, like bright white mittens on the ends of his wrists. He was athletic-looking, and his chiseled cheekbones flushed pink with humor as Derhin tried to copy the sound of Gaze’s scream, causing Lintz to collapse into another fit of hysterics.
Alex felt an instant warmth toward the two boys in their own hilarious world, not caring about the looks of disdain they were being thrown by other students. Some teachers, too. Alex squinted as he noticed one particular individual, clad in the instantly recognizable cloak of a teacher, standing at the corner of the corridor, watching the pair intently. His eyes were narrowed into slits, and the expression on his face was one of intense displeasure, the muscles in his cheeks twitching each time their laughter pierced the air in a raucous wave. There was something about him that niggled at the back of Alex’s mind. The face was familiar somehow, but Alex couldn’t quite place him. He wondered if he could move closer to the figure to get a better look, but, as he floated forward, a bloodcurdling scream shattered the image.
As the piercing cry vibrated through Alex’s body, the world of Derhin’s memory broke apart, rushing away again as the colors bled away to darkness. Alex returned to the dimly lit antechamber with the glowing red bottles, Derhin’s still clutched in his hand. He shoved it back onto the shelf and tore out of the room, back through the rancid stench of the chamber and out into the stale corridor. He sprinted, his footsteps echoing loudly on the flagstones, until he reached the door of the library. Ellabell sat huddled against the wall by the entrance, her whole body trembling and her eyes wide in horror as blood trickled down her chin. Her hands were clamped tightly over her mouth, her fingers shaking violently. Her spectacles lay crushed on the floor beside her, little shards of glass scattered out from the wire frame.
Alex glanced around the medium-sized chamber, feeling eyes on him, as he reached down to pull Ellabell to her feet. She shrank away from his hands with a whimper, not wanting him to touch her. He tried again, lifting her by the arms, ever conscious of the deafening scream inviting unwanted visitors, but she thrashed against him desperately, tears falling from her wide blue eyes.
“Hey, hey, it’s me. It’s only me,” he whispered in soothing tones, trying to calm her as he held her to him. Eventually, she stopped thrashing, her fists no longer
pummeling his chest as she rested limply in his arms.
Suddenly, Jari appeared in the doorway, an expression of panic on his face. His face was pale and sweating, his chest heaving with exertion as he looked down at the sight of Ellabell clutched in Alex’s arms.
“We better run,” he gasped, as Alex heard the first echoes of footsteps on the flagstones behind Jari, gaining speed.
Gathering Ellabell up in his arms, Alex burst from the library and ran with her, Jari only slightly ahead of them as they raced through the corridors toward the main body of the building, hurdling over debris and clusters of tangled gray ivy that threatened to sabotage their escape. Alex felt a fleeting moment of frustration that he hadn’t managed to see the Head’s office, but knew there was no point worrying about it now. If it was the Head in pursuit, he would no doubt be seeing the inside of the Head’s office soon enough.
Glancing over his shoulder for the briefest second, Alex caught a glimpse of the figure running behind them. He was tall and dressed head to toe in black, with a pale, haunting mask covering most of his face. It wasn’t the Head, but it was someone equally terrifying. The black holes in the mask, where the eyes ought to have been, stared coldly and intently as two gloved hands lifted and sent glittering bolts of golden magic snaking rapidly after them.
Turning a corner, Alex placed Ellabell down and yelled for Jari to get her to safety as he held his own palms up and felt the tendrils of shimmering black and vivid silver slipping easily across his fingers in vibrant tendrils, made more powerful by the pulse of emotion rising through him. Pressing himself flat against the wall, he drew the anti-magic back into himself, feeling the strange tingle of it in his bloodstream as he peered around the corner, his heart pounding as he witnessed the figure gaining ground quickly.
“Stop!” called the figure, in a strict, sharp voice that wasn’t familiar to Alex.
Alex extended his hands and sent the blockade rushing toward the figure. It was densely packed with ice and snow, ripples of black and silver energy twisting and turning within the frosty interior, far stronger and more powerful than the one he had practiced in the cellar. It knocked the figure backward with a loud thud, its body hitting the stone floor hard. Watching the blockade disintegrate, Alex moved his hand in a rapid figure eight, creating a fog of condensation that rose up thickly from the icy remnants, distorting the escape route from view.
Alex didn’t wait for the figure to get up as he raced after Jari, who was a short way ahead with Ellabell’s arm draped around his neck. Taking up Ellabell’s other arm, Alex gripped her waist and ran, holding her up as they raced past the golden line that lay cracked and broken on the floor. Spying the dull, painted red wood of one of the empty chambers in the adjoining corridor, Alex headed for it and burst through the door, dragging them all inside. He gently set Ellabell down and touched his finger to his lips, ensuring she and Jari understood his meaning as he crouched low to the floor and crept back over to the door, placing his eye close to the keyhole to watch the hallway beyond.
He heard the figure before he saw it, the hurried beat of shoes hitting stone sending jolts of panic through Alex’s heart as he waited for the figure to come into view. The dark-clad pursuer passed close by the door without pausing to check it, permitting Alex to get a closer look. The figure looked tall and menacing as he ran past, with a distinct masculinity in the broadness of the shoulders, though his face was shrouded by a hood. Alex frowned as he sat back from the keyhole; he had never seen the figure before, and the notion made him wonder how easy it was to hide a stranger in the manor. Perhaps the Head was hiding an army in this labyrinth of a place.
Looking back at his fellow escapees, he noticed that Ellabell had curled up against the wall with her eyes staring out into space. He felt a wave of protectiveness for the curly-haired girl, wondering what on earth had happened to her.
“Ellabell?” he whispered, his hands reaching out to hold hers as she trembled uncontrollably. “Ellabell, what happened?” he asked, but she only shook her head and lowered her gaze.
Her entire body shivered, the blood drying and flaking from where it had trickled from the corner of her mouth down to the edge of her chin. Tears streamed silently from her big blue eyes as she clutched the broken spectacles in her hand, the splinters of glass pricking her skin until Alex took them carefully from her desperate grasp and placed them on the ground.
“Ellabell, tell me what happened. You can trust me,” Alex reassured her earnestly, squeezing her hands lightly as he spoke.
She shook her head, a choked whimper escaping her throat as she looked up to the darkness that crept across the chamber ceiling, her pupils darting rapidly as if she thought someone was watching her. Alex glanced up, following the direction of her gaze, but could sense nothing in the shadows that might want to hurt them.
Only when the coast seemed clear did Alex give the go-ahead for them to re-emerge, some hours later. Gently, Alex picked up the wilting, terrified form of Ellabell and carried her carefully back to her dormitory like precious cargo. Jari headed back to the boys’ dormitory at Alex’s insistence, leaving Alex to tiptoe through the vacant halls, checking around every corner to make sure he was alone. Nobody stopped him as he made the slow trek back to the girls’ dormitory, and he felt a keen sense of relief when he reached the door with the brass number twenty-eight on the front. He rapped quietly on the wood and waited for Natalie to open it.
She answered it quickly, and Alex realized she must have stayed up all night, anxiously awaiting their return. Natalie gasped when she saw Ellabell and helped Alex carry her to her bed.
“She needs professional help,” said Natalie, pressing her hand to the back of Ellabell’s forehead to check her temperature.
“No,” whimpered Ellabell. “I’m fine,” she insisted, curling up into the fetal position as Natalie pulled the covers over her.
A look passed between Alex and Natalie. He hadn’t heard Ellabell speak properly until that moment, and the strangeness in the curly-haired girl’s voice was deeply concerning; it was thick and distorted, as if her mouth were filled with liquid.
“You should see someone. One of the professors should be on duty,” pressed Alex, but Ellabell looked up at him in horror.
“No. I don’t want to see anyone. I’m fine,” she repeated, her odd voice catching in her throat as she began to cough violently. Natalie handed her a handkerchief from the top drawer of her bedside table, and Alex was certain he saw blood as Ellabell spluttered into it, the deep red staining the pale pink of the fabric as she held it to her mouth, though she tried to hide it with her hands as she smothered the handkerchief with her fists.
“You should go. I will make sure she is okay,” whispered Natalie as Alex tried to get another look at the handkerchief. He was growing more worried about Ellabell with each fact he didn’t know.
“Are you sure?” he asked, frowning.
Natalie nodded. “I will make sure she is okay. I promise.”
“I hope you feel better soon,” Alex murmured, not knowing what to say to Ellabell as he moved toward the door of the dorm. She didn’t respond, turning beneath the covers to face the wall.
“You can tell me everything tomorrow,” Natalie said as she led Alex to the door and ushered him out into the corridor.
Alex nodded, passing her a wave of goodbye as she closed the door on him.
Back at his own dormitory, Alex changed quickly out of his dusty, dirty clothes and into his clean, crisp pajamas, lying wearily back on his mattress as he stared up at the ceiling, his limbs aching a little from the run. Across the room, Jari was a mirror image, staring up into space with his arms folded across his chest.
“What did you find?” asked Alex, propping himself up on his elbows as he looked over toward his friend.
“The Head is gone,” replied Jari with a low sigh, “but I couldn’t get my hands on what I was after.” There was regret in Jari’s voice, and a subtle hint of anger rippling just below the surface.<
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“The Head is gone?” Alex was curious that Jari didn’t seem more pleased by the revelation. “How can you be sure?”
“He’s definitely gone. It’s a long story, but let’s just say a little bird told me,” he explained with a vagueness that frustrated Alex. “What happened to Ellabell, by the way?”
“No idea. She won’t say, but it was definitely something bad,” said Alex, wishing he knew what had happened so he could help her. He couldn’t get the image of her wide, terrified blue eyes out of his head.
“Looked it,” mused Jari. “Poor girl.”
Alex nodded. “Yeah, I hope she’s okay.” He didn’t want to admit it, but he felt responsible for what had happened to Ellabell. It was his suggestion that had led her down that rabbit hole and caused her whatever trauma she had experienced. If he had just gone with Jari, like Jari had wanted, it would never have happened. Guilt gnawed at his stomach as he thought of the terrified girl, huddled beneath the covers, scared of the shadows.
“Did you get anything?” asked Jari, breaking Alex’s train of thought.
Alex shook his head. “Not really.”
He wasn’t ready to tell anyone what he had seen and felt in the antechamber—not until he was able to process it in his own mind. The rows on rows of glowing black bottles, glimmering red within. The labels, the dates, the slick floor of the chamber beneath those menacing manacles. It haunted him, flooding his mind as he lay back to go to sleep.
What was that place? Alex wasn’t sure he wanted to know.
Chapter 22
Alex awoke with a churn of nausea in the pit of his stomach. He had slept fitfully through the few hours left between their hasty return to the dormitory and the customary wake-up call, and he knew he was going to struggle to keep anything down that morning.
Blood rushed in his ears, and his hands took on a clammy, sweaty texture that would not be wiped away no matter how hard he tried. He felt as if he could see his heart pounding through his chest as paranoia coursed through his waking body like a virus, his mind recalling the previous night’s events with a sickening dread. He had tried to tamp down any fear or anxiety while the events were happening, but they had caught up with him and were all the more potent for having been kept at bay. He envied Jari, who was still snoring away across the room, once again spread-eagled on top of the covers with his limbs sticking out over the edges of the bed. While Alex had tossed and turned for most of the night, he had heard the snores of Jari’s slumber within moments of his blond-haired head hitting the pillow.
The Secret of Spellshadow Manor 2: The Breaker Page 18
