Chapter 19
“So you’re ready to try the gate again?” Alex asked.
The crisp air turned his words to mist in front of him. Natalie was wearing a thin black T-shirt and jeans, but he didn’t see so much as a bump of cold on her arms. He wondered if she was using magic to heat herself.
“Yes,” she said. “But I don’t think it will work.”
He started. “You don’t?”
“Of course not. I am not stupid. I thought it might when we first got here, but that was before I learned more about magic.” She looked at him skeptically. “You do not think it will work, do you?”
“Well, no,” he admitted. “The gate’s probably guarded by loads of charms. But I guess I didn’t want to disappoint you. You seemed happier, more hopeful, when we were planning this.”
Natalie scoffed and rolled her eyes theatrically. “I am not some precious flower, Alex. You do not need to protect me from disappointment. I thought we were on the same page.” She glared at him, then continued slowly, deliberately. “Anyway, it is important to know what we are up against. And to know that, we must try magic. So I have practiced, and you have helped, and now we test the Spellshadow defenses.”
She strode briskly forward and grabbed one of the metal rungs of the gate.
“I have a family, you stupid gate,” she growled. She pushed, a light sheen of sweat appearing upon her arms as she heaved at the metal bars. Alex watched in awe as golden fire flared up around her, then surged toward her hands, but before it could strike the bars, it diverted, flowing straight into the gray ivy. For a moment, the plant trembled, the leaves growing a sickly green. Then it fell still, limp and colorless once more.
“Did you…?” Alex said.
Natalie only stared, panting, her eyes flashing dangerously.
“The ivy ate my magic,” she said indignantly. “I could feel it. It was like…” She shuddered, unconsciously backing away from the gate.
“I’m guessing your magic isn’t going to work,” Alex said.
Natalie shook her head. “I did not think so.” She looked at the walls. “Could we climb?”
Alex stared at the bricks, perfectly fitted and at least ten times his height. “Not a chance,” he said. “And even if we could, what are the odds there aren’t spells at the top of the wall?”
Natalie sighed. “Low.”
She strode over to the wall, pulling one long strand of gray ivy away from the stones. She closed her eyes. A whip-like line of magic came into existence over her head, and she frowned deeply. All at once, the golden line burst into a great saber of flame, which carved down at the thin strand of plant. Alex yelped, skipping back a step, but once again, nothing happened. The fire struck the ivy, writhed for a moment, then sank into the plant. The ivy glowed red for an instant, then green, then went limp. Natalie dropped the strand of ivy back against the wall.
Alex stared at her.
“I take it you spent some more time practicing yesterday?”
Natalie nodded. “I am starting to get the hang of it,” she said. “Although, the other girls tell me the mark of good magic is keeping your essence from appearing. I am not yet that good.”
“Still,” Alex said, his tone appreciative. “You improved really fast.”
Natalie rubbed her temples. “It is not enough,” she said. “I wonder what it would take to break this.”
“I read something about an old practice called anti-magic,” replied Alex, recalling a book that had mentioned it in passing. “But that was only usable by a scarce bloodline called ‘Spellbreakers’, and they went extinct.”
Natalie tossed her hair and glared at the gate, seeming not to have heard him, then drew her hand back and sank a shining fist into the metal. She drew back with a cry of pain, shaking her hand as the ivy glowed.
“Hey, stop it,” Alex said, stepping forward. “You’re hurting yourself.”
But Natalie wasn’t listening. She drove her hand into the gate again, magic rippling out around her.
“Natalie,” Alex said, putting a hand on her shoulder.
He noticed in shock that the earth around her was starting to twist, the gravel forming a swirling pattern as the dirt beneath ripped, caught up in the power Natalie was wielding. Little tendrils of pinkish light reached out from the heart of her aura, and a terrible cold washed over Alex. He reached out and grabbed her by the wrist, and it felt as though she were made of ice. He grunted, staggering back.
“I want to go home,” Natalie hissed under her breath, the magic around her snapping the air into pieces. “You cannot keep me here!”
Alex knew she was speaking again to the gate. He stepped up beside her once more, keeping his voice level, trying to snap her out of this dangerous mood. She had insisted she didn’t expect this attempt to succeed, but she was clearly devastated that it hadn’t.
“I know. And you will.” He pulled her away from the gate and put his arms around her.
The light went out. The terrible, churning magic vanished, and Natalie slumped against him, dragging a hand over her brow, shaking.
They just stood there like that for a time. Alex could feel Natalie’s frustration like a tangible heat against his skin. He knew he should say something, do something to alleviate the girl’s tension.
“Natalie,” he began, but before he could finish, the gate let out an aching groan. Natalie’s head shot up, and she slipped out of his arms, turning to where the doors had begun to open. Little tongues of magic whirled off her as she stared at a line of light spilling onto the grounds from outside.
Finder was bringing in a new student.
Without thinking, Alex grabbed Natalie by the shoulders and dragged her back. She resisted, struggling against him, her eyes fixed on the opening gate, but Alex threw them both into the thick ivy that hung down along the wall.
Natalie’s magic went out as the heavy plants fell against her skin, and she spun to stare at Alex with angry confusion.
“What are you doing? We could leave,” she spat.
“We wouldn’t make it ten feet. Finder is right there!”
“But what could he do to us? The gate is open, Alex! We could run!”
“He could enchant you again!” Alex said, holding her a little tighter. He wasn’t sure he could stand it if that happened. “And probably much worse. He’s powerful, Natalie.”
Natalie hesitated, then looked back up, peering through the ivy at where the gates now sat open.
Finder stood there, his hand on the shoulder of a young boy with pale skin and wide eyes. Finder eased the boy through the gate, guiding him toward the manor.
“I do not see him,” Natalie said, frowning. “Is he really there?”
“Yes, he’s right there,” Alex said, pointing to where Finder was ushering the boy with his ragged fingers.
Natalie paled, slumping back against the wall as the gates eased shut. The ivy swung over the bars again. The sky shifted suddenly from the blue of fall to a dusky, red-gold sunset.
Natalie stared at the boy as he walked into the manor, letting out a curse in French.
Alex frowned. Finder hadn’t entered the manor alongside the boy, but had stridden off to one side, cutting through the grounds with long, purposeful footsteps. His ripped robes trailed behind him like smoke behind a burning branch.
Natalie must have noticed Alex’s eyes tracing his path along the edge of the building.
“Finder did not enter, did he?” she asked, frowning at him.
Alex shook his head, his eyes narrowed, then came to a quick decision.
“Let’s follow him,” he said, jumping softly to his feet. “We’ll have to be very quiet, but this is a rare opportunity for information.”
Natalie looked reluctant, but stood too and reached for his hand, her irritation evaporated.
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” she whispered as they jogged as quietly as they could.
“Well, no,” he replied, “it might be a terrible idea. But I’
m going after him. I’m sick of biding my time, hiding in this place. We have to take some risks. You can go back to the manor if you want; it could get dangerous.”
“No,” she said firmly. “I will go with you. I am not a precious flower, remember?”
“Yeah, I remember,” Alex muttered, his eyes on Finder’s retreating form. He was heading around toward the back of the building.
They set off across the grass, Natalie’s dark hair swinging behind her in a streak as she danced silently over the scattered tendrils of ivy that reached for her legs. Alex kept hold of her hand.
The grounds of Spellshadow Manor were as eerie and derelict an environment as ever. As they passed through them, Alex thought he could see ghosts of places past. A great lawn, lined with magnificent figures of marbles with onyx eyes. A gazebo made of white iron, all intricate patterns and delicate workmanship. A stand of trees in neat rows, presumably an orchard of some sort.
But those places were gone now. The statues lay in rubble, the lawns coated with ivy and brambles. The gazebo was a mess of tangled metal, and the trees had grown dark and sinister looking, shrouded in a funeral veil of gray ivy that simply climbed over their branches in smothering loads.
Rounding the manor, Alex drew up short. There, tucked against one of the back walls of the manor building, was a small stand of stones, lined in a neat row upon trimmed grass. Alex just barely caught sight of Finder’s robe flapping behind him as he vanished into a cave-like passage that led down between them.
Natalie looked at Alex, and he jerked his head toward the opening. She nodded, creeping up to examine the row of stones.
“Graves,” she whispered as Alex drew closer. “Old ones.”
They weren’t just old, Alex soon found. They were ancient. The dates and names had been worn from their surfaces by time, until nothing but smooth stone remained.
They moved on.
The passage Finder had entered was a strange thing. There was no door, just a deep hole of darkness that led to a staircase which plunged down into the earth. Natalie stepped forward, and with a flick of her hand she conjured a small flame at her fingertip, casting a pale pool of light around them. She made to move farther in, glancing nervously back at him.
“Natalie!” Alex caught her arm just in time, gesturing to the thin golden line that crossed the hallway and pulling her away from it. “Aamir warned us about those lines. The blue ones we could probably risk, but the gold lines I’m not so sure about.”
“What will happen if we cross it?”
“I’m guessing something horrible.”
She fell silent, looking at the golden line with him. Alex could already feel the line’s hostile presence, beating cold as ice against his skin. He looked over at Natalie, who was edging away from the line with a cautious expression on her face. Well, they had come this far. And they might finally be close to some real answers.
He made his decision.
“I’ll go first,” he said. “But if something bad happens, you run, okay? Run back to the manor right away.”
She was shaking her head. “No, Alex—”
“It doesn’t make sense for both of us to get in trouble!” he insisted, and finally she relented.
He took a deep breath and moved forward. He hesitated just shy of the border, his heart racing, the chill air beating against his skin. He bit his lip, drew in a breath, then threw himself forward.
It hit him as though he had swallowed a gallon of ice water, and now he could feel it swashing about in his gut. He doubled over, his breath coming free in a great cloud of frost. Natalie leapt forward, her feet kicking up golden dust from where the line was writhing and twisting, its ends broken on the ground, as Alex continued to heave up frost and snow, his eyes bulging as he clutched his sides.
“Alex! Are you okay?” Natalie asked, rushing to his side.
“Cold,” gasped Alex, his teeth chattering as ice wrapped around them.
She held him a moment, rubbing his arms up and down. The cold wasn’t getting worse, but he could feel it in his bones, could see his fingertips paling, then darkening with frostbite. Natalie clearly saw it as well; she reached out, and warmth poured from her hands as little bubbles of fire gathered in her palms, warming Alex’s skin.
“Honestly, I thought it would be something worse.” She poked at the broken line with her toe. “You are feeling better?”
“I need a minute,” he grated out.
Natalie bit her lip anxiously. “I think we should keep moving,” she said. “We should not stay here long.”
It took a few minutes before Alex was ready. Natalie insisted on draping his arm over her shoulder like a wounded soldier as they limped down the stairs into the dark.
There was no light save for Natalie’s little flame. The air around them grew moist with the smells of dirt and decay, and as Alex watched, the walls changed from the manor’s coarse bricks to a smooth, black marble.
He knew what the place was before they saw the first tomb. It lurched out of the dark, a great statue of a man in a crisp suit, one hand outstretched and covered in delicate veins of ice, carved to look like lightning. They stared at him, and the plaque beneath him.
Gifford White, the Stormcaller. Lord of Spellshadow Manor.
Set in front of him, on a little white sheet, was a skull. Natalie gasped at the sight, covering her mouth with her hand.
They kept moving. There were other figures, other names. Women with rubies for eyes, and men with ever-flowing fountains of water pouring from their hands. Beneath each, a skull lay upon the white sheet.
The hall of dead lords and ladies was long, and it took some time before they reached its end. With each step, Alex grew more concerned that Finder would be there to step from the shadows, pale hands reaching out and condemnation on his lips, but there was no sound or movement as they approached the final statue.
“Is he here?” Natalie asked warily. “Finder?”
Alex turned to the final statue, and hesitated.
The man the last statue depicted was tall, his shoulders broad and muscular, his cloak a crisp cut. His eyes had been wrought from gold and steel, irises gleaming from beneath a low-hanging hood.
Malachi Grey, the plaque beneath him proclaimed. The Finder. Lord of Spellshadow Manor.
Beneath the statue was a skull. It frothed with a cold so intense that Alex could feel it against his skin. Between the two gaping eye holes, a third hole had been carved into the bone. It seemed to stare at Alex as he looked, his mouth dry, his hands clenched.
Finder was dead. How was that possible?
“Time to go,” Alex stammered.
Without waiting for Natalie’s response, he grabbed her by the wrist and hurried from the little crypt. As he went, he thought he could still feel the skull’s regard, the three empty sockets watching them go.
Chapter 20
“Necromancy?” Professor Lintz said, his heavy brows lifting. “My boy, that was outlawed a long time ago.”
Alex was seated in the professor’s office in the student wing. It was a lavish room, adorned with several gold-framed portraits, which appeared to depict Lintz himself, and a display case containing a rather impressive collection of scepters.
“No, no, no,” Lintz continued. “It’s a forbidden magic. Anima’s nasty cousin, you know?”
“How’s that, sir?” Alex asked interestedly.
“It deals in magic that shouldn’t be touched,” Lintz said, his eyes darting toward the closed door and then back to Alex.
The man was nervous about something. Ever since Alex had come in, Lintz had been on edge, scanning the room as if he suspected something was lurking there. For a moment, Alex wondered whether Finder was invisible to the instructors as well. He knew he would be jumpy if Finder made a habit of popping up out of nowhere.
“Look,” said Lintz, leaning back in his chair and rummaging under his desk to bring out a green bottle of murky liquid. “There are two kinds of magic, okay?”
&
nbsp; Alex watched as Lintz poured himself a generous glass of the contents of the bottle, then immediately downed half of it. A thick, tangy scent filled the room, mingling with the smells of leather and cologne.
“I’m not sure I do, sir.”
Lintz finished his glass and poured another, his cheeks turning faintly pink.
“Magic is always gold, right?” he said. “When you summon it in your aura?”
Alex nodded slowly. When he thought of magic, he pictured a gold light.
“Incorrect,” Lintz said, smirking as he tapped one heavy finger on the tabletop. “Normal magic uses your vim, boy. Your fighting spirit! It’s a healthy, natural art. But there is another force: life magic.” His hands folded together on the table in front of him.
“Sir?”
“There are two wells of power in a person,” Lintz said. “One comes from your essence, and we call this magic. Life magic, on the other hand, comes from your soul itself. To tap into it, even once, can cause irreparable damage to a person’s very existence—but it will give a wielder unimaginable power.”
Alex paused as he took in the information. “What does this have to do with necromancy, sir?”
Professor Lintz’s cheeks grew pinker still, his eyes darting away as he took another sip from his glass. “I shouldn’t say,” he muttered.
“Very well, sir. I’m sure I can find it out for myself,” Alex countered.
Lintz waved his hands, his eyes widening. “No, no, there’s no need for that. I’ll explain, just…promise me that you’ll leave this dangerous business behind you once I have?”
Alex nodded emphatically.
“I am only curious, sir.”
“Necromancy is wrong on two levels,” Lintz said, his voice dropping to a whisper. “The first is that it taps into a school of magic which is devoted to ripping the magical essence out of another person. The second is that it involves the removal of a person’s life magic.” He shook his head. “The outside world, it has these notions that necromancy is something you do to a corpse, but it’s not like that. You kill your target, and then their ghost—the remnant of their life magic—becomes your thrall, your slave, bound to your will.”