The Secret of Spellshadow Manor 2

The Secret of Spellshadow Manor 2: The Breaker


Bella Forrest


Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Epilogue
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Copyright © 2017 by Bella Forrest
Nightlight
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.


Chapter 1
Alex stood on the singed main lawn, scuffing his shoe against the white line that had been painted around the area where Derhin and Aamir had fought. The line was already fading into the dry ground, soaked up alongside the blood—Derhin’s blood, spilled under the impact of Aamir’s desperate fist. The battle had taken place barely two weeks ago, yet it felt like a lifetime.
He looked up at the wall, at where the creeping gray ivy had been blown away during the duel, the masonry scorched. Alex walked up to the bare patch of wall and examined it, running his hands over the smooth, rusty-red brickwork for what felt like the hundredth time, hoping to have missed something he could use to escape. He felt a familiar cold ache ripple from his fingertips to his stomach as his body prepared to retaliate against the magic of the manor.
It’s going to take a lot more practice before I can destroy it, he thought. He removed his hands from the wall and stared down at them, disappointed by their ineptitude. He wished—not for the first time—that anti-magic were as seemingly simple to use as the golden light that gleamed easily and swiftly from his friends’ fingertips, doing as it was told.
Alex sighed, shoving his hands into his pockets, out of sight, as he wandered over to the gates, which were still curtained in ivy. A spark of anger burned in his chest at the memory of the fateful day he had arrived at Spellshadow Manor: slipping in behind the ghostly gray creature and a zombified Natalie, wanting so much to save her that the consequences hadn’t seemed so dire.
His mind drifted back to the tomb and Finder’s demise, and he found himself wondering silently if they had done the right thing. Finder had seemed to know so much more about everything than everybody else, the Head being the key exception. And Elias, of course, but Elias only seemed to want to tell Alex a censored version of events—just what Elias wanted Alex to know. No more, no less. Alex wondered where the shadowy figure had gone; he hadn’t seen him since before Derhin and Aamir’s showdown.
With Finder dead, whatever the phantom knew had been taken to his long-overdue grave. All his knowledge about the Spellbreakers and why the school existed as it did, what the Head did behind locked doors, what exactly “graduation” entailed… All gone. All of it. Elias knew some of the answers, Alex had no doubt about that, but he wondered if Elias would prove an even harder nut to crack than Finder might have been. A shiver of uncertainty trailed up his spine as he recalled the ghost’s ghastly gray face and tattered rags. What on earth had made Finder agree to let the Head do that to him? Alex had the feeling it must have been a matter of life or death, and that worried him deeply.
Still, Alex wasn’t stupid; he knew Finder wouldn’t have simply given up all his information. It would’ve likely taken more magic and anti-magic than Natalie and he had to spare, and they may still have ended up with nothing. At least they had stopped Finder from recruiting more students to the school for a while. That was a decent consolation prize. Regardless, Alex couldn’t shake the peculiar feeling that they had made some sort of mistake in getting rid of Finder so quickly. After so many years in phantom slavery, Finder had been fed up with the Head—they had heard him say as much. Maybe they could have broken him; maybe he would have given them some answers. Now, they’d never know.
Alex’s rage toward the manor burned a little brighter, and he kicked the wall in frustration, wincing as a twinge of pain shot through his foot.
“Maybe it’s not so wise to kick magic walls,” Natalie’s familiar voice called out from behind him, with its exotic French undertone.
Alex turned. The color had come back to Natalie’s face. Shortly after Derhin had been dragged away, kicking and screaming, to wherever they had taken him, Natalie had brightened up, a rosiness returning to her pale cheeks, a liveliness that hadn’t been there for months. Natalie seemed to have come back to life, the curse’s chokehold no longer draining her of energy. In the week or so since, she had become healthier than ever—her vitality restored, her black hair shining, her skin glowing, her eyes glittering.
Alex was glad to see her looking better, but it was hard not to remember Ellabell’s whispered words from the library: “Just kill whoever cursed her.”
Derhin must really be dead. Alex shivered at the thought, still hearing the man’s terrified pleas ringing in his ears. “We were going to escape together.” The words could not be shut out as they came back to Alex, spoken so desperately by the doomed professor. Lintz’s face haunted Alex too, the resignation as he had said he’d do it—whatever it was…
At least it was nice to see Natalie smiling again.
“Yeah, that wasn’t the smartest idea I’ve ever had.” Alex grinned, his toe still throbbing.
“You had the same thought as me, huh?” she muttered, nodding toward the bare patch of wall. Strands of silky black hair fell over one eye, and she brushed them back behind her ear in a single sweeping motion.
“Yeah.”
“I keep