Page 23 of The Breaker


  “Think of your mothers’ tears and the empty caskets that bear your names, on headstones, in cemeteries miles from here. They don’t know what happened to any of us,” Alex said, his eyes burning with a bright fury. “Imagine the joy on their faces when they see us again, after so long—all that heartbreak forgotten in an instant, to see our faces again. This might be the only chance we ever have. We must prepare for a great battle ahead—we must be ready for his return.”

  Alex felt the shift in the mood of the room as the mob’s anger diverted wholly toward the Head and the battle that lay ahead.

  “We’ll lock Aamir away,” Alex stated, gesturing to Jari and Natalie. “The rest of you should gather in smaller groups and practice sparring, all hours of the day, as much as you can, until I make a call-to-arms. I will rally you when the time is right, and, until then, you must prepare. Ransack the library, find all the spells you can to help in the battle to come. Try spells you never dared. Go to the mechanics lab and build bombs and traps and set them at every corner.” He leveled his gaze with several of the older students. “You must rally the younger students. Spread the message and take charge of the groups. If any student is too scared to fight, do not force them—they are the ones who will need our protection in battle. If they do not wish to fight, we must not make them.”

  The students nodded, though there was fear among the hope.

  “Learn as much as you can about attack and defense. Knowledge is power. Ask for help from the teachers you think you can trust,” Alex said, knowing he didn’t need to spell out their names. The only ones Alex was certain of being trustworthy were Lintz and Gaze. The other two, he couldn’t be sure whose side they’d be on, when the time came. “Go! Prepare yourselves!” he commanded.

  The mob split apart at Alex’s final instruction. Alex watched as his fellow students retreated, hopeful that they might have a chance. They had the numbers, and, if everyone studied hard, maybe they would have enough power to overcome the Head.

  “The shield is breaking,” called Jari, his voice panicked. “I don’t know how much longer it can hold!”

  Alex turned and walked cautiously over to Aamir. The barrier sputtered, and thin slits had appeared in the anti-magical fabric of the cell, tearing the energy apart piece by piece. Alex poured an extra layer of glittering power into the barrier, repairing some of the shield’s gaps, but he knew it wasn’t a permanent solution.

  Suddenly, an idea came to him. He couldn’t believe he was even contemplating it, but it seemed to be the only way, with what little time they had at their disposal. What he was about to suggest saddened him deeply, twisting at his heart, but he was convinced that in this moment, it was the only solution.

  “I know a place,” he said miserably, not daring to look his friends in the eye, “where Aamir will be safe.”

  Chapter 27

  Alex led the way. Behind him followed Natalie and Jari with Aamir between them, his hands tied with the coiled ropes, glittering with black and silver from the anti-magic Alex had fed through the interwoven threads. Around his mouth glowed a golden gag Natalie had conjured to keep him silent; Alex’s anti-magic would only have burned.

  The hallways were empty, the students using the rest of their evening to do as Alex had instructed: ransacking the library, dueling in empty chambers, building weapons in the mechanics lab, and strengthening their skills. Some had even taken to the grounds, as far from corridors and prying eyes as possible.

  “Alex?” said Jari as they helped Aamir along.

  Alex turned over his shoulder. “What is it?”

  “About back there,” Jari muttered sheepishly, “with the others.”

  “What about it?” Alex shrugged, feigning ignorance.

  “I feel like I need to apologize,” he explained, shifting Aamir’s weight slightly. There was discomfort in the boy’s voice.

  Natalie nodded. “Me too.”

  “It’s fine,” said Alex quickly.

  “No, we left you out, and I’m sorry—I want to explain.” Jari seemed sad, imploring Alex to listen. “I wasn’t myself, with him gone,” he murmured, nodding at Aamir. “I needed to fix this, and I didn’t think you could help. I thought you were weak. I didn’t know you were capable of what you are clearly capable of. I left you out without thinking, and I didn’t bother to ask if you were up to it or even how you were doing. I was consumed by this. I was self-centered, and it was wrong. When you came into the cellar that day and caught us, you made me feel guilty about what we were doing in secret, and I got defensive. I reacted badly, and I should never have done that—I’m sorry. We should never have left you out of it or let it get as bad as it did.”

  Alex glanced at Jari, trying to gauge the blond-haired boy’s sincerity. There was a deep look of regret creasing his brow, and his eyes glistened as he returned Alex’s gaze.

  “I thought your powers needed protecting, when what they really needed was nurturing and for us to understand your strength,” chipped in Natalie with a remorseful expression. “Now that we’ve seen them, we know how stupid we have been. I never stopped to ask, and neither did Jari, and we’re sorry for that.”

  “I didn’t exactly help matters. I know I kept the havens from you,” said Alex, shoving his hands into his pockets as awkwardness stilted his speech. “I know you must have thought you couldn’t trust me. I’m sorry for that,” he added, sighing heavily as he felt a prickle of guilt in his heart.

  “We trust you,” murmured Natalie.

  “Of course we trust you—you’re our friend. I behaved badly. I overreacted and let other things cloud my judgment… I’m sorry.” Jari nodded, mirroring Alex’s awkwardness.

  “I appreciate it,” said Alex quietly, feeling the ties of their fractured relationship coming together again. “Anything else I should know about? The student uprising, perhaps?” he added, with the beginnings of an irreverent smile playing upon his lips.

  “The Uprising was just an extension of the training you saw. We aren’t keeping anything else from you, we promise,” Jari replied swiftly, looking to Alex with encouragement. There was something earnest in his friend’s behavior that Alex sensed was genuine—a very real sorrow for what had passed between them all.

  Alex wanted to believe them, wanted to know their apologies were sincere, and he hoped time would reveal them to be honest. It felt a touch hypocritical, knowing his own secrets bubbled just beneath the surface, but there would be time for his apologies and his truths later. He would come clean. Silently, he promised himself he would, soon.

  “That’s good to know,” said Alex, the smile reaching his eyes at last. It felt nice to be united again.

  “You forgive us?” asked Natalie.

  “There is nothing to forgive.” He would have hugged them both had they not been holding up the limp, angry figure of Aamir between them. Smiles spread across their faces as they continued on toward Alex’s destination. Once they saw where he was taking them, Alex knew, those smiles wouldn’t last for long. He only hoped they didn’t think him a monster.

  Passing the familiar door to Renmark’s classroom, Alex could hear the gruff tones of the professor within, grumbling something incoherent, his voice rising threateningly as he spoke to himself. Alex stopped to listen, Natalie and Jari nearly running into him as they too halted.

  “I’ve had enough of these blasted students and these God-forsaken walls!” Renmark shouted. There was a dull thud, as if something had hit one of the walls. “…taking it to the Head. I’m tired of teaching these imbeciles and their constant disrespect for authority! Punishments are what we need here. Yes, punishments…” He seemed to relish in the possibilities as he weighed the pros and cons of each kind of reprimand. Alex was certain he caught a mention of the word “Escher” somewhere in the tirade.

  “The Head should have left me in charge, not some young, useless upstart!” Renmark cried out to his apparently imaginary audience. “Decades of my life I have dedicated to this place! For what? To be ov
erlooked time and time again!”

  Another thud rumbled through the wall. Alex took it as a sign to hurry onward. He beckoned for the others to quicken their pace as they rushed past the classroom doors, not wanting to disturb any of the inhabitants within.

  Aamir still fought against his restraints, but he could make no sound louder than a muffled groan through his gag. The anti-magic within the ropes seemed to have sapped Aamir’s energy somewhat, leaving him more compliant as they hurried him through the hallways.

  Reaching the familiar golden line, Alex paused.

  “Stand back,” he told Natalie and Jari. He conjured the body of a sword above his hand, the spell weaving habitually through his fingers in icy streams. It was an easy spell for him now. The blade sharpened to a thin edge that glinted with menace as he poured anti-magic into the center of the weapon, solidifying it so he could pluck it from the air.

  Alex brought the sword down hard on the golden line, which instantly shattered. Moments later, he sent a dense, powerful blockade charging down the hallway, wiping out any of the hidden magical defenses, his icy blast rushing into the darkness and disappearing from sight. It was almost second nature to him now, breaking into the Head’s quarters. He had definitely become something of a pro, anticipating the next issue before it arrived.

  “You won’t like my suggestion,” muttered Alex, as he gestured for them to follow. He knew it was the only way to keep Aamir safe, from himself and from hurting others. Alex had seen the suspicion in the other students’ eyes as they observed Aamir, knowing their old classmate wasn’t behaving like himself. Despite their misgivings, Jari and Natalie seemed convinced the real Aamir was just beneath the surface somewhere, but Alex wasn’t sure how deep the real Aamir was buried.

  Alex walked along the familiar hallways, coming to the fork in the path and heading straight on. He kept going until he reached the eerie wooden doorway to the chamber that reeked of fear and blood. Pushing the door open, he stepped in and waited for the others to follow. The wide-brimmed hat still lay on the table at the side of the room, but the ivy-covered door to the antechamber, which he was sure he had left open in his hurry to leave before, was shut. He leaned back against the tabletop, his hand resting close to the bladeless knife, as the other two entered, with Aamir held between them.

  “What is this place?” asked Natalie, horror lacing her words, her eyes wide with shock and disgust.

  The manacles dangled from the ceiling, the metallic tang of dried blood permeating the room.

  “You can’t be serious,” hissed Jari.

  “What other option do we have?” replied Alex, looking up at the manacles.

  “You’re insane. We’re not leaving him here,” snapped Jari, shaking his head.

  Alex sighed. “This place was designed to hold wizards,” he explained grimly, gesturing around the room at the tools and devices that looked intended for torture and confinement.

  “What is this place?” repeated Natalie, her voice barely above a whisper.

  “This is graduation,” Alex said, his voice thick with anger and sadness as he tapped the ledger that lay on top of the table behind him. “I don’t know why or how, but this is it. This is where the students come, on the same day each year, to be strung up, their essence removed. It’s a final test of some sort.” He swallowed hard. “So far, it seems no one has passed.”

  His eyes hardened as the certainty cemented itself in his heart. He had guessed as much, but it seemed so obvious now. In the depths of his chest, his anger burned with a renewed fury. The blood on the floor was the blood of broken youth, used for some unknown, foul purpose.

  “What?” gasped Natalie.

  “I don’t know what the test entails or what it’s for, but there’s a reason it’s done, and this is the place where it happens,” Alex said, remembering bitterly the comment in the notebook, telling of the desperation of wizards.

  Is that what this is? Alex thought. The Head’s desperation? But to do what, and why?

  “Let me see that,” said Natalie cautiously, pointing toward the ledger. Alex handed it to her and watched as she flipped through it. Her face was horrified. A pang of sorrow rippled through Alex as Natalie’s mouth shaped the names written there. Jari moved beside her to read over her shoulder, his features darkening as his eyes scanned the pages.

  “Raul Gallico. Odette Narcisse. I knew them,” Jari said, his voice trembling with wrath.

  “We need to get him up there,” said Alex reluctantly as Natalie set down the ledger.

  Awkwardly, they removed the coiled ropes, expecting Aamir to fight back. Sapped of his energy, he made no effort to retaliate as Alex pulled the heavy bolts out of the cuffs. With some difficulty, Natalie and Jari held their friend up while Alex closed the manacles around the coppery skin of Aamir’s wrists, sliding the bolts quickly back into place. Stepping back, the sight was a horrifying one—to see Aamir’s body dangling limply, an echo of so many students before.

  “Please, let me go,” he begged as he hung there, his head lolling to one side.

  Alex felt the pull of guilt. He knew they couldn’t help Aamir until they were sure he had returned to his former self, but that didn’t mean he didn’t want to break the cuffs right there and then. His friend dangling there like a prisoner was a gut-wrenching sight, and Alex could not believe the idea had come from his own mind. He felt appalled with himself, yet unable to tear his eyes away.

  With his arms above his head, the sleeves of Aamir’s robe had peeled away, revealing the golden band on his wrist. It was glowing brighter and more vividly than before, seeming to thrum and crackle in the air as it burned with renewed ferocity. If he could break the golden line on Aamir’s wrist without alerting the Head, he’d do it in a heartbeat. But it was too risky. Alex didn’t know if the Head was already aware of everything that was happening around Aamir, but destroying the line seemed like a surefire way to attract attention.

  “What do we do now?” asked Jari miserably, unable to look at the hanging figure of his friend.

  “He’ll be safe here on his own, but we should try to spend as much time watching him as possible. He could do with the company,” replied Alex, staring at the glittering band as it glowed angrily in the darkness of the chamber. “We’ll take it in turns, and when we aren’t here, we train. We get better, we hone our skills, and we prepare for what’s to come.”

  “I’ll watch him first,” said Jari.

  Alex nodded. “You’ll have to stay until morning, to avoid any curfew issues,” he warned.

  “I don’t mind.” Jari shrugged and tried to look up at his friend, who was staring at the trio with mournful eyes.

  “You sure you’ll be all right?” Alex frowned at Jari, wondering if he was the best person to leave alone with Aamir. Surely, if anyone was to be persuaded by Aamir’s sad expression and weary pleas, it would be his best friend?

  “You can trust me,” whispered Jari, as if reading Alex’s mind. “I won’t let him loose, no matter how much he asks,” he added sadly.

  “Okay. We should go,” said Alex, turning to Natalie. She nodded, hurrying toward the door, clearly eager to be away from the stench of blood and the sight of Aamir hanging from the manacles.

  Almost without thinking, Alex reached out for the bladeless knife on the tabletop and slipped it discreetly into his belt. A sad, bitter terror followed him as he made his way back through the vacant halls. The true extent of the lies being told within the manor was finally being realized. Suddenly, escape seemed a far more pressing matter. There could be no escape at any other time, only a one-way ticket into that chamber, making this one opportunity all the more important. The Head was away, and the manor had been left without a master. Alex guessed that, for some reason, Aamir had been sent back and was now supposed to be the leader in the Head’s place, but they had managed to overcome him, leaving the manor vulnerable. The Head was still out there fulfilling his vile task of student recruitment, not realizing the manor was under thre
at, thinking it in the safe hands of his masked avatar. If they didn’t rise up, Alex knew those headstones he had spoken about would have a reason to be there.

  “Do you think we will win?” asked Natalie in a whisper as they walked together.

  “I think we’ll try,” replied Alex worriedly, putting his arm around her.

  It all seemed too real, suffused with a very tangible sense that not everyone would make it out alive. Still, Alex knew his fellow students shared his stoicism and steadfastness; they would not give up, and they would not give in. After all, there couldn’t be a plan B now.

  Chapter 28

  In the following days, Alex was pleased to see that the others had taken heed of his instruction. Lessons were skipped in favor of training, and the bookshelves in the library had been looted for spell books and manuals. Without a Deputy Head to carry out any severe punishments for late curfews and missed classes, the fear had lifted a little from the manor, everyone able to breathe more easily. Alex wondered if his fears about the golden band listening in had been unfounded. Days had passed, and still the Head did not come. He hoped tentatively that they might have more time than he’d thought.

  Walking quickly down the hallway, intent on reaching the wine cellar for a private training session, Alex jumped as a head appeared around the corner of one of the classroom doors. It was Lintz, his brow furrowed and his mouth set in a stern line.

  “What’s going on?” he asked sharply. “Where is everyone?”

  Alex had known this time would come. The classrooms had been growing progressively emptier, and so had the dormitories, with students scattered throughout the manor, trying to keep as much distance between themselves and the teachers as possible. As yet, it seemed, nobody had asked for Lintz or Gaze’s assistance. Perhaps they were too afraid to judge their trustworthiness wrongly, Alex thought, as he narrowed his eyes at Lintz, weighing whether or not he could trust this particular professor.