He made his way over to the bookshelf.
Most of the words on the spines were in Latin. While Alex knew some basic roots, he didn’t know nearly enough to understand half of what was before him. He recognized a few books of what must have been anima magic, something that read Monstrum Dica, a few books of what may have been more pyromancy. He was starting to wonder just how he was supposed to locate his objective when he spotted a small black book shoved into a corner of the shelf. Dust covered its spine, where faded words read:
Nobilitum Mortem.
Alex reached out, fingers ready to brush the ancient leather cover, when his eyes caught sight of a thin crimson line on the interior of the bookshelf. He cursed under his breath.
Alex would have bet anything that he was looking at another curse. He stared at it with hard eyes. His bones still felt icy after the last piece of magic he had recklessly flung himself through, but the book was right there, within his reach. They could stop Finder with it, free a trapped soul and prevent any more students from being dragged to this place. Alex clenched his fist, drew in a breath, and seized the book.
A spark of energy started in his toes and crackled up him, sending him twitching to the ground. He only just managed to close his fingers around the book and yank it free before agony rolled through his being, his vision washed away by a blur of multicolored sparks and pain. He must have cried out as ice erupted within him with the sensation of being impaled upon countless spears. His body convulsed, and he felt bile frothing up into his mouth, his eyes wide, mouth gaping like a fish out of water, hands clinging desperately to the book in his hands.
He was only dimly aware of it when the door opened and a dark figure stepped inside. He heard the shuffling of rags, smelled the scent of grave dirt.
Through his pain, he heard a voice.
“There was a puddle of water by the entrance,” it said softly. “A puddle of water. How strange is that?”
Finder.
No, not now…
There was the soft tread of boots as the man in rags crossed the room to the window. Alex bit back a groan as his spine convulsed, arching in pain.
“That spell does not make water,” Finder continued. “And yet there was water. There was ice.”
He turned, sweeping the room, but once again seemed thankfully unable to see Alex. His robes hung in tattered streams at his sides, dragging over the ground in his wake. In the midst of the pain, with his whole body tense and burning, Alex couldn’t help but think how very real the man looked. He didn’t look like any ghost he had ever heard of—Finder looked solid, present, as he dragged one finger along the windowsill, sending a cascade of dust spinning through the air.
Alex tried to keep himself from crying out as another crackle of energy ran through him.
“I bet you’ve been so very cold,” Finder said. To Alex’s surprise, the man crouched, sitting against the wall and looking toward where the stone desk stood at the end of the room. Could he sense Alex? “Your kind are supposed to feel magic’s touch so keenly.”
Alex’s back slumped to the ground, the magic finally seeming to relent, and he drew heavy, quiet breaths as he watched the ghost. Finder’s hood was drawn low over his face, and he sat in a position which Alex would almost have described as dejected.
“So cold that it enters your blood,” Finder said. “So cold it crackles through your bones.”
Alex shoved himself to his knees, shaking. The biting, icy touch of the manor had infested him, drawing pale lines across his bumpy skin. He clenched his jaw to keep his teeth from chattering, looking at where a little curl of blue magic was looping down his arm, the occasional spark of power straying to nestle, burning cold against his skin.
Finder rose.
“If I had found someone here,” he said, voice careful, “I would have taken them to him. However, I see nobody. And so I take my leave.”
Alex watched as Finder reached out, his fingers seeming to slip into the handle of the door for a moment before they found a hold and gripped it. He paused.
“I used to kill your kind,” he said. “Long ago. They hunted me to this manor, and I slaughtered them. Threw the bodies in the lake, and let the fish gnaw on their bones. But then he came.”
Alex clutched the book of necromancy to his chest, shuffling away from where Finder still stood in the open doorway.
“He told me I had a duty,” Finder continued. “That I had hidden for too long, and he was right. I had to help. I watched the last dragon die. Did you know that, Spellbreaker?”
A bitter note crept into the old ghost’s voice, and he let out a long sigh. Wisps of ghostly magic curled in the air around him, pale mist pooling about his feet.
“I watched,” he said. “And I did nothing. Now I wonder if I have done too much.” He shook his head, throwing the door aside with a sudden, savage motion that made it bounce off the wall with a sharp bang. “I wonder if you can do any better, magic-killer.”
He vanished, and Alex was left standing alone. He swallowed, shivering. He was so cold. He looked out the window and saw the great frozen lake as if for the first time.
Threw their bodies in the lake.
Spellbreaker.
Magic-killer.
Feeling sick, Alex made his way quickly out of the office, running through the overgrown, decaying hallways toward safety as fast as he could.
Chapter 26
When he knocked at the door of room twenty-eight, Alex was greeted by a bleary-eyed Ellabell. She rubbed at her face, trying vainly to paw her hair into some semblance of order.
“Alex?” she said, squinting at him and fumbling with a pair of glasses.
He faltered. He had forgotten, in all the excitement, that it was the middle of the night. He gave an awkward wave.
“Yep, it’s Alex,” he said. “Sorry to wake you.”
Ellabell tried to draw herself up straighter, her eyes narrowing.
“How did you get here?”
“I found a girl by the entrance,” Alex replied. In truth, he’d figured out his way back here alone, and if there was magic in place to stop boys from entering, it hadn’t deterred him.
“What do you want?”
“Just looking for Natalie,” he said quickly. “Have something I want to show her.”
Ellabell stared at him blankly. “And you two claim you aren’t dating?” she said after a long moment.
“Ella,” he intoned, drawing out her name through a smile.
“Alex,” she countered, unmoved.
The two glowered at each other for a moment, then Ellabell rolled her eyes, yawning. “Natalie is sleeping, and she damn well needs it after the scene she caused.”
“Scene?”
Ellabell quirked an eyebrow in surprise. “Yeah, at the Head’s speech. She threw up all over Petra and caused a huge commotion. I had to haul her back here myself. Weren’t you there?”
“Had something to do.”
Ellabell grunted. “Well, you can talk to her in the morning.”
Alex frowned. “Can’t I—”
“No,” said Ellabell. “You cannot. You can see her in the morning. Them’s the rules. Now go, get out of here. I’m tired.”
She shooed him away with a couple sleepy waves of her arms, then shut the door in his face. Alex huffed, feeling the weight of the stolen book heavy under his jacket, and made his way back down the hallways toward his room.
Even though he was no longer in the Head’s forbidden wing, he found himself on edge. Everything he learned about the manor only made it seem stranger and more dangerous. What had Finder meant about ‘having a duty’? What had he meant when he said he had killed Alex’s kind?
Spellbreaker. But the Spellbreakers had died out, hadn’t they? Could he be a—
“Webber.”
The word cut into his reverie, and Alex stumbled to a halt, feeling his blood freeze in his veins. He turned slowly, and was met with the sight of Professor Lintz. His portly form was little more than
a shadow as he stepped forward out of the dark, his eyes narrowed.
“What are you doing out at this hour?”
Alex swallowed, all too aware of the weight of the book against the inside of his jacket.
“Just going to check on Natalie, sir,” Alex said. “She’s sick, you see, and—”
“And she was sick at the speech. Yes. I was there.”
Lintz’s eyes scoured Alex with a critical gaze, a thin tongue darting out to wet his lips. That look said it all.
You weren’t there.
“I’m patrolling the hallways,” Lintz said, shrugging and looking away down the darkened hallways. “Seems some student has been creeping around out of bounds. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?”
“No, sir,” said Alex, hoping against hope that Lintz wouldn’t hear the lie in his voice.
Lintz’s eyes flicked back to him. “Then what’s that you’re hiding?”
Alex’s jaw locked. His legs tensed, although whether to run or to fight, he did not know.
“Your pockets,” Lintz said, gesturing. “Turn them out.”
Alex frowned, then turned out his pockets. A few coins, some crumpled notes, and one illicit screwdriver.
Lintz looked at the tool, then reached out and plucked it from Alex’s hand.
“You know these aren’t supposed to be out of the lab,” he said, his tone disapproving.
Alex stared at his feet, praying that the man wouldn’t demand to search the rest of him. “It makes me feel safe,” he mumbled, hoping this would ring true.
Lintz huffed, then looked back down to the screwdriver.
“Safe, huh?” he said.
With a brusque motion, he handed the tool back. Alex took it with a blink of surprise, looking up at the professor.
Lintz wouldn’t meet his eyes. He was looking away again, down the hallway.
“I need to keep patrolling,” he muttered. “Get to your room, and stay there.”
Alex nodded and darted off into the night. The screwdriver had turned out to be useful in quite a different way than he had ever expected, but he was more grateful than ever to Aamir.
His room was quiet when he entered. Jari and Aamir had already turned in. Aamir lay on his side, while a showered Jari was sprawled over his bed with one bare foot drooping off the edge, his oversized, striped pajamas hanging heavily off his thin limbs. Alex smiled, then went to his desk and retrieved a pair of scissors.
Pulling his pillow from its case, he made a quick incision into the side and stuffed the book inside, carefully fluffing the stuffing back out around it. Reversing the pillow so the damaged end was on the interior, Alex slotted the pillow back into its case, then lay down. It was stiff, but not horribly so. It would have to do.
Alex awoke to the sound of someone hammering on the door. He sat up, rubbing at his eyes as Aamir slid from bed and made his way over to answer it. The door swung open, and Alex had a clear view of a tired, disheveled, and distinctly upset Professor Derhin, holding a shining lamp.
Before Aamir could say a word, Derhin had shouldered his way inside, looking around with hawkish eyes. Jari’s eyes fluttered open just in time to see the professor bent over him. He yelped, scrambling against the wall.
“What the hell?” he cried.
Derhin took one more look around the room, his lamp splashing light across the walls.
“An artifact has gone missing from the Head’s office,” he said shortly. “A book of some value.”
Alex kept his eyes locked on Derhin, resisting the urge to check on the pillow in which he had hidden the stolen book.
“A book, sir?” Aamir said, pushing impatiently at his dark curls.
“A book,” Derhin repeated. He rubbed at his temples, looking about the room. “You’ll need to empty out your dressers. Yes, you too, Petra, come on. I’ve got three more rooms to do, and I don’t want to be up the whole night.”
“Happy New Year to you too,” Jari mumbled as he rose, tossing the drawers from his dresser into a haphazard heap on the floor. Alex and Aamir unloaded theirs in a more orderly fashion while Derhin looked under the beds.
When the brief search was concluded, Derhin sat down heavily on Alex’s bed. Alex carefully controlled his breathing as the pillow he had hidden the book inside slid dangerously toward the professor.
“Look,” Derhin said, “I don’t need to tell you two this, but for Webber’s sake, I’ll spell it out. If I catch you with this book”—and here his eyes narrowed to angry slits—“I will end you. As a wizard. As a student. This is not something that should be tinkered with. Do I make myself patently clear?”
The three boys nodded. The air in the room had gone still as Derhin had spoken, and everybody was holding their breath, waiting to see what would happen. Now, however, the professor relaxed, shooting them his normal dopey grin.
“Right,” he said. “On to the next room.”
Derhin stood briskly, brushing his hands together, then smiled and vanished into the hallway. Darkness flooded back into the room as his lamp was whisked out of sight, and suddenly there was nothing left but the uncertain, worried breathing of three young men.
Chapter 27
The next time Alex awoke, it was to the sound of Jari arguing with someone at the door. He rolled over, trying to cover his ears, his body stiff and heavy from the previous night’s ordeals. He could feel his stolen book wedged up against his head, and shifted his weight so he lay more firmly atop it.
“He’s sleeping,” Jari said.
A sharp response. Jari laughed nervously. “Besides,” he said, “girls really aren’t supposed to—”
“Alex.”
Natalie’s voice sounded every bit as bad as it had the day before. It was hoarse, but it was undeniably her.
Alex groaned, propping himself up on his pillow.
“Natalie? Let her in, Jari.”
Jari bowed Natalie inside with a flourish, and she made her way over to Alex’s bed. Alex smiled at her, raising a hand in greeting.
“I hear you were sick,” he said. “Are you feeling okay?”
Jari looked around nervously as Natalie sat down on the edge of Alex’s bed. Alex noticed with some concern that her skin still had that pallid, sickly look to it. In response to his question, she laughed, shrugging.
“I did not throw up on everyone,” she said with a twinkle in her eye. “Only a select few.”
Alex laughed, but his heart wasn’t in it. By the door, Jari let out an indignant noise.
“Not as funny if you were one of the few,” he said, folding his arms.
“I thought you could handle it,” Natalie said seriously, looking back at him. “I didn’t want to throw up on anyone too sensitive. But I am sorry. I could not help it.”
Alex smiled. It was just like Natalie to try to spare the sensitive, but he hadn’t thought she would actually puke on someone.
“Well, I guess I can’t ask a favor, then?” she asked Jari with a smile.
Jari rolled his eyes. “Let me guess. You want to be alone with Alex?” He shook his head. “You two are not subtle. Let me just grab some things, and I’ll get out of your hair.”
Aamir had already left, presumably studying or practicing magic in the cellar, and Jari was giving the two of them a pointed look as they sat next to each other on Alex’s bed. Alex just grinned, saying nothing. This was probably better than any cover he and Natalie could have thought up on their own.
“We just want to talk,” Natalie said. “Really.”
“All right. Have fun talking, then,” he said, rummaging through his dresser until he found a small, battered book. On the cover, a woman swooned into the arms of a man with flowing, golden locks.
“Classy,” commented Alex.
“Entertaining,” replied Jari. He gave a cheery wave, then strode out of the room.
The door had barely closed when Natalie rounded excitedly on Alex.
“How did it go?” she asked. “It was hor
rible sitting in that stupid little room wondering if you were okay! I am so glad you are unhurt.” She leaned forward and wrapped her arms around him, pulling him into a brief, tight hug.
“It went okay,” he managed, clearing his throat. “I hit a few spells and got a little banged up, but…”
He pulled his pillow out of its case and drew out the leather-bound copy of Nobilitum Mortem. It looked different here; in the eerie, macabre setting of the Head’s office, it had seemed like a commonplace thing. Here, however, there was something otherworldly about it. Maybe it was the letters of the title, etched into the leather as if by an unsteady hand wielding an oversized knife. Or the way the surface seemed to warp and twitch at the touch.
Natalie didn’t seem to care. She reached out, hefting the book and flipping it open.
“This is really it?” she asked. Her eyes sparkled with excitement as she looked at the page. “Is this Latin?”
Alex cursed under his breath. “I didn’t look inside,” he said, taking the book from her and staring at the rows of indecipherable script. He felt a flash of disappointment that this would not be simple.
“Looks like it,” Natalie said, taking it back. “Oh, this passage is about corpses.” She made a face.
Alex paused. “You can read it?”
Natalie had tilted the book, and was squinting at the fine, handwritten text, glancing from time to time at an illustration of what appeared to be a disemboweled rat.
“I took Latin classes at school,” she said absentmindedly. “I am not great at it, but I think I can make sense of some of this.”
“That’s good,” said Alex, wetting his lower lip nervously. “But you need to be careful. Really careful. Derhin came ‘round last night and threatened anyone who might have it.”
She stood up, holding the book close to her chest like a favorite child.
“I will be careful,” she said solemnly. “I just need to do something useful…I’m glad that you are okay.”
With that, she turned and headed toward the door. Her cool façade was spoiled only slightly by a fit of coughing that left her leaning against the doorframe. Alex leaned back in his bed, his brow deeply furrowed.