The Secret of Spellshadow Manor 3: The Chain

by Bella Forrest

He made his way over to the structure. The padlock was a beastly thing, covered in flaking red rust. He fed silvery tendrils of energy through the inner mechanisms, opening his hand sharply to explode the decaying metal with a loud crack. What remained of the padlock fell to the ground with a heavy thud.

  As he pulled the creaking, rotting door open to see what was inside, he became aware of Ellabell next to him, standing close.

  It was dark inside the shack, but the sunshine glancing in through the cracks in the wood shed some light on the cave of wonders within. It was full to the brim with things. There were stacks of crates to one side and coils upon coils of fraying rope. Hanging from the disintegrating walls on the far side were a variety of lamps in different shades of stained glass, with bulging canvas bags hanging below them. On the other side of the wall were several shelves stocked with a multitude of rusting tins and cans in all shapes and sizes, their labels long since peeled away.

  Alex stepped farther into the musty-smelling hut. Other knick-knacks and bits of random wood lay strewn about, not much use to anyone. There was one shape, however, nestled beneath everything else, that grabbed Alex’s attention. He could make out curved sides and chipped paint, poking through the dusty edges of a moth-eaten tarpaulin. Alex waded through the sea of debris, heaving boxes and crates and heavy bags from on top of the hidden structure and shoving them haphazardly onto the unstable piles of junk around him. Ellabell followed suit, moving around to the other side of the object, where she began to remove the bric-a-brac, stacking it neatly behind her.

  Within a few minutes, their hands were filthy and their faces were streaked with dirt, but they had managed to clear the object of scrap, revealing the undeniable shape of a boat beneath. The tarp that lay across it had done little to keep the boat protected, however, as its state became apparent. It was more the skeleton of a boat, in dire need of work.

  “What do you think?” Alex asked Ellabell, whose logical mind he knew would come in handy.

  “It’s a bit of a mess.”

  “Fixable though, I think…”

  It was on casters, equally rusted and rotten, but there was enough integrity left in the wheels to get the boat out into the fresh air and space of the clearing.

  “What’s that?” Jari mocked.

  “A boat,” replied Alex, not taking the bait. Though, seeing it in stark daylight, he realized it really did need a whole load of work. He headed back into the shack and rummaged through the tins on the shelves. A few moments later he emerged triumphant, wielding a hammer, several tins of varnish, various types of glue, and a large container full of screws.

  Armed with what they needed, the group set to work—Alex assuming the role of project manager. They toiled away throughout the day and deep into the night.

  It was only when a snore from Jari pulled him awake, the sunlight shining in his eyes, that he realized he had fallen asleep at some point. They all had. The last thing he remembered was seeing the first hints of daylight overhead.

  Alex quickly turned back to what he had been doing, and as the hazy glow of sunset bathed the shoreline in a dim orange light, he put the finishing touches on the boat. Surveying their masterpiece, Alex felt a slight glimmer of pride at what they had achieved. It was mostly held together with glue and varnish, but it was as seaworthy as it was ever going to be.

  He nudged the others awake.

  “So, what do we do now?” Jari asked groggily, crawling over to inspect the vessel.

  “We wait until it’s dark, using it as cover. Then, we row.”

  As the last few rays of bronzed light disappeared into the horizon, giving way to the darkness, Jari and Alex lifted Aamir into the boat, making him comfortable near the bow. With the last remnants of creaking functionality from the wheels, the four friends pushed the boat on its casters toward the lake’s edge.

  As soon as it had edged into the shallows, Jari and Ellabell hopped up onto the benches, taking up the oars as Natalie jumped in behind, leaving Alex to push it the rest of the way into deeper water. Having forgotten momentarily about the lake’s strange reaction to him, he was startled to feel a sudden burning sensation against his skin as he waded in deeper, at one moment boiling hot, the next sub-zero temperatures. Holding out his hands to the others, he let them haul him out of the odd lake and into the safety of the boat, where the sensations instantly stopped.

  On the underside, small leaks had begun to spring, much to Alex’s dismay. He pressed his palms onto either side of the boat and allowed the silver-black tendrils of his anti-magic to run along the wood, forging a barrier over the hull to keep the water out. The leaks ceased, but the freshly conjured barrier seemed to have a curious reaction to the lake itself. It began to glow with a blinding silver light that was almost bordering on white. Naturally, the sight of this reaction alarmed Alex—not wanting them to be seen in the darkness. However, before he could remove his energy and have one of the others put up a barrier, the glow ebbed enough to ease his fears, though he still couldn’t shake the knowledge that it was a risk.

  For some reason, the lake didn’t seem to tolerate him. Why? Alex couldn’t say. It didn’t seem fair to him that he was the one it rejected, when the bodies of his ancestors lay buried beneath. Something didn’t sit right with Alex, and, as he listened to the steady slap of oars cutting through the pitch-black water, he felt a familiar shiver of fear. What if they were headed somewhere far worse?

  Chapter 5

  The stars twinkled overhead, and the black water glittered back as Alex and his friends made the long voyage across the lake. The shadows shrouded them from sight, though every so often the boat would glow dimly with silver as it sliced quietly through the mirror-like surface, disturbing the darkness. Around them, the world was deathly silent, interrupted only by the steady slap of oars cutting through the water. Natalie and Alex had taken over the rowing duties for a while, but Jari and Ellabell were once more at the helm, moving in unison.

  Clambering over to the stern of the vessel, careful not to lose his footing, Alex sat down on the narrow bench at the very end of the boat, leaning sideways against the blunt wooden edge so that he could gaze back toward the side of the lake they had come from. Not that he could see much by the pale moonlight. He could just make out the frothing lines of their movement through the lake and the spreading ripples that showed the path they had followed.

  The rowboat glowed again for a moment, and Alex peered over the edge, down into the inky water below. Staring into the still surface, Alex at last understood why the anti-magic was reacting to the liquid with such volatility. Beneath the water, illuminated by the dim glow of the boat, pearlescent skulls stared up at him with dead, empty hollows. Silvery gray vines twisted around the sickening gleam of bones, pulsing faintly.

  Anger twisted inside Alex as he watched the gruesome scene, unable to tear his gaze away. There were too many to count, scattered thoughtlessly and shamelessly on the lake bed, jumbled together in a terrible mass until no skeleton could be separated from the next. And those were only the ones he could see beneath the muted light. It pained him to see that there were skulls and bones of all shapes and sizes. Gripping the edge of the boat tightly, he closed his eyes only when his vision trailed across a heartbreakingly small skull, tangled among the wreckage of so many Spellbreaker lives.

  The glow of the boat ebbed away to nothing, returning the grim frieze to the darkness.

  It made sense now—the lake’s fierce reaction. It was his anti-magic responding to that of his dead ancestors, sensing the twisting vines of their silvery gray lifeblood within the water, feeling their loss connecting with the beating heart of his still-living body. Of course he couldn’t drink it or stand in it or touch it without feeling the agonizing effects of such overwhelming loss. How could he have even brought himself to do so?

  As the boat skimmed through the water, he felt their ghosts all around him. There were eyes, following him in the darkness. Alex’s skin prickled, giving him the disquieting sense
that they were trying to warn him—these phantoms, moving invisibly in the air all around him. Shivers ran up his spine as he felt them reaching out for him, brushing his skin with cold, unseen hands.

  Every so often, the rowers would exchange places, Natalie switching more frequently. For hours they rowed, skimming easily through the night. Those who weren’t rowing tried to sleep, using the soft sound of the water lapping against the boat as a lullaby as they drifted off beneath the glitter of stars. Alex couldn’t, though. Every time he found himself with a break, he would move to the back of the boat and gaze out over the edge, desiring bitterly to see a glimpse of the sunken depths and foul secrets the dark waters held. He hoped the sight might spur him on, fortifying his purpose through whatever trials may come.

  It was a long night, with the finish line unknown. Every time Alex was certain they must be close to land, he was met with mile upon mile of endless water and a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. Refusing to be beaten, he took up the rowing seat once more and dug deep, chasing the oncoming dawn.

  Just as the velvety black of the night sky was softening to a deep bluish hue, a small island appeared in the near distance. Sunrise was on its way, but they had yet to reach the opposite shore and whatever lay beyond it. It wasn’t the objective Alex was after, but the island seemed like the only feasible compromise.

  “Should we stop here?” asked Jari, who had been Alex’s rowing companion for the last few hours. Glancing to the boy beside him, he could see dark circles around his eyes. Each pull of the oar was becoming more difficult, and, with the sun coming up, Alex didn’t want them to be left out in the open.

  Alex nodded. “I think it’s the safest bet.”

  As the island grew closer, Alex could see there was a tower of sorts in the center of it—a lighthouse, almost, though the light at the top wasn’t flashing down onto the water below, as it ought to have been. Running the boat aground through a narrow inlet, listening to the crunch of the wood on gritty sand, Alex thought the whole island seemed deserted. No shadows moved across the ground or through the glass dome at the summit of the lighthouse. Nor did their arrival send anyone running out.

  “Stay here,” whispered Alex as he jumped lightly from the boat and tied it to a stubby tree at the opening to the inlet.

  “I’ll come too,” insisted Jari.

  “No, stay with the others. I just want to check it’s safe—no point waking them if it’s no good,” Alex replied, nodding toward the curled-up figures of Ellabell, Natalie, and Aamir.

  “Shout if you need me,” pouted Jari, his face showing his disappointment.

  “I will.” Alex flashed his friend a smile before turning to the lighthouse.

  It wasn’t far, but Alex still felt uneasy as he crept toward the towering structure. He could make out an overgrown path beneath his feet, leading from the inlet, but it had long since been reclaimed by weeds and delicate wildflowers that poked up in a myriad of surprisingly bright colors. Within a couple of minutes, he had reached the front door of the lighthouse, which had definitely seen better days. The hinges were brown with rust, and the painted door was chipped and cracking. However, there didn’t seem to be a padlock or a lock of any sort on the front, and when Alex pulled the metal handle toward him, the door gave instantly with a rush of stale air.

  He waited for someone to come running at the loud crack of the door opening, but nobody did. There was only silence beyond.

  Alex moved quickly back to the boat.

  “It seems safe,” he said, moving around the side of the vessel to gently shake Ellabell and Natalie awake.

  They gazed around in confusion, their eyes becoming accustomed to the gathering light. The deep blue sky was now shot through with the first bolts of pale pink and hazy orange as the sun began to force its way up through the inky shadows.

  “Where are we?” asked Ellabell in a quiet, sleepy voice.

  “Somewhere safe. Do you need a hand?” he asked as she stood to step out of the boat.

  “Okay.” She smiled shyly.

  Alex’s hands lightly encircled her waist, and her hands rested on his shoulders as she jumped from the side of the vessel. Their eyes locked for a moment as he placed her carefully on the ground, but it was only afterward that he felt a wave of elation run through him, making an unexpected smile play upon his lips. He knew very well that she could have jumped from the boat herself, but he had wanted the chance to help—to make up for not holding her back in the forest.

  Natalie flashed a knowing smile at him as she vaulted the side of the boat with ease, showing him up for his unnecessary gallantry. He flushed a little, hurrying to help Jari get Aamir out of the boat and onto dry land in a vain attempt to hide the blush of his cheeks.

  Aamir groaned as the two boys carried him toward the lighthouse and in through the broken door that hung awkwardly from its damaged hinges. Settling him down on the dusty floor, they returned to the boat and dragged it as high up the island as they could to hide it among some spiny bushes, intending to keep it out of sight from anyone who might pass by. For good measure, Alex tore down a few branches from a nearby tree with palm-like fronds and draped them across the top and sides of the boat, camouflaging it in the surrounding greenery.

  Only then did he return to the lighthouse, where everyone else was now gathered. Inspecting the interior, he confirmed it was definitely abandoned, with grimy sheets over what furniture remained and everything else covered in a thick blanket of dust. A narrow set of curving stairs hugged the circular wall, leading up to another floor.

  “These places usually have a bedroom for the keeper, right? We should get Aamir up there,” suggested Alex, pointing through the gap in the ceiling.

  There was a grumble of agreement. Jari and Alex knelt to pick Aamir up by his armpits and legs and carried him in an ungainly fashion up the creaking, questionably stable staircase. The others followed. On the next floor, there were even fewer signs of habitation, but the circular room wasn’t nearly as grim as the one below. Another curved staircase led up to a floor above, but Alex indicated for Jari to carry their friend over to the far wall of the first floor and set him down.

  “Blankets!” exclaimed Ellabell, poking her head around a cupboard built into the curved wall. In her arms, she held a stack of soft-looking blankets, only slightly moth-eaten. They smelled musty, but they would keep them warm.

  Jari took two, pulling one over Aamir’s sleeping body before settling down nearby to get some rest of his own. It seemed like a good plan, and everyone else followed suit. Even those who had slept on the boat were still weary, their slumber having been often interrupted by an oar bashing the sides of the vessel or a sudden jolt in its movement.

  Alex took a blanket too but knew sleep would take a while to come.

  As the others drifted off to different sections of the rundown lighthouse in order to lie down for a while, Alex began to explore. Despite the ache in his muscles and the itch of his dry eyes, he wasn’t tired. And so, he distracted himself with the tower. Moving stealthily past the sleepers on each floor—Natalie and Ellabell tucked away on the floor above Jari and Aamir—he investigated, though there wasn’t much to be found. There were a few tables and chairs and empty bookcases. The odd cupboard with an ancient jar of beans in it. Mostly, the four floors of the lighthouse were empty.

  However, as he reached the fourth floor, the narrowest room by far, he saw there was a trapdoor in the ceiling above his head. There were grooves in the stonework where ladders had been removed, but that only served to increase his curiosity as to what was up there.

  Glancing around for something to use, his eyes settled on a bookcase, pushed up against the banister of the stairs. It looked a little suspect in terms of stability, but it was the only thing that would reach. Heaving with all his might, he hauled it over to the side of the room, just below the trapdoor, and climbed stealthily to the top. It bowed beneath his weight as he reached up and pushed against the wooden slats of the trapdoor. T
o his delight, it gave, flipping open with a creak before crashing down onto the stonework of the floor above.

  Excited, he pulled himself up through the gap and into the very top floor of the lighthouse, where the light itself was kept. Alex grinned as he stood up in the stunning room, which reminded him so much of a greenhouse. The walls and domed ceiling were made of glass, separated by slim lines of white-painted metal, and on the very top, Alex could make out the turning shadow of a weathervane.

  At the center of the room was the fitting where the light should have been, though there was no longer a lantern within it, to warn sailors on the black lake. It still had the curved blinker that would fit around the lamp, causing the flash that would let sailors know of rocks and treacherous waters beyond, but there was no longer a glow. It had gone out some time ago, Alex thought, from the looks of the place. Regardless, it was a work of mechanical art that made Alex smile like a schoolboy; the mechanisms beneath were brimming with cogs and clockwork to make the mind race.

  Beyond the strange, hexagonal glass dome, which was all still intact save for a few cracks beginning to appear in some of the panes, the warm glow of the sunrise was streaking through the sky. It was beautiful. Alex walked toward it, his eyes catching sight of a narrow metal platform that ran around the outside of the dome. It was then that he noticed one of the panes in the hexagon was a door and not a window.

  Gently, he pushed down on the handle and opened the door with a grating squeak, careful not to shatter the fragile glass as it swung wide. The breeze that whipped against his face was fresh and cool, dancing up from the sparkling water beneath.

  He tentatively pressed his foot down on the outside platform, checking its integrity. Satisfied it wasn’t going to crumble and send him plummeting to his death, he stepped out fully and walked along until he found a good spot to watch the sunrise. Sitting down, his legs dangling between the metal bars that acted as a barrier, he gazed with contentment as the kaleidoscopic sunrise shifted from rich pinks and fiery reds to burnished bronze and bold oranges, finally settling upon a golden yellow as the sky brightened to a beautiful azure that told of a warm day to come.