All they could do was watch Alex as he writhed on the stone, battling with his anti-magic and the pain that had taken over his body. Eventually, the pain ebbed just enough for him to regain jurisdiction over his own senses. Feeding his anti-magic through his veins, he felt the savage sting cooling down with an icy relief, though a dull ache remained as he struggled to sit up. Shaking it off, he looked to the bookshelf. The red line had shattered, leaving the books ripe for picking. Alex tried to read some of the titles, but many were in Latin or other ancient languages that he didn’t recognize.
“Natalie!” he called, his throat still constricted and thick with discomfort.
Natalie hurried over. “You broke it?” she asked with a hint of excitement.
Alex nodded, feeling the pulse of pain throbbing behind his eyeballs. “Just about,” he replied with a grimace. “See if you can figure any of these out,” he added, gesturing to the ancient, rare tomes.
Natalie ran her fingers along the dusty spines with a gentle caress, her lips moving as she silently mouthed the names. As she went along, she picked out a few she thought looked interesting, explaining what they were as she laid them out on the top of the desk. The Rare Spells of Clarita von Bismarck. The Dark Times. Spells from the Otherworld. All of them curiously named and meaning very little to anyone but Natalie, whose eyes glowed with that same worrying glee. Alex supposed it couldn’t do any harm now. They might as well use the power they had if it meant they might survive.
He watched as Natalie took the books over to the corner of the room and sat with them open in front of her, flicking rapidly through the pages, trying to take in as much information as she could, while she could.
“Anything useful?” asked Alex.
Natalie shook her head. “I am still looking,” she sighed bleakly.
Through the thick door and down the hall, Alex could hear the fight raging on, knowing it meant they still had time. He picked up a few books with English names and placed them on the desk to read. Jari took up a few too and went to sit beside Natalie on the floor, turning to her now and again to ask what something meant as they studied side by side.
“Aren’t you going to read?” Alex asked Ellabell, who was sitting on the desk, focusing her shielding magic at the door, to strengthen the barrier. He had never known her to give up the opportunity to read.
She shook her head, her brown curls bouncing. “My powers are better used here,” she said simply, never taking her blue eyes off the door.
Nodding, Alex turned to where he had left his short stack of tomes. He picked the top one up and flicked it open to the first page, but his eye was caught by the great window that stood before him. The stretching expanse of emerald field leading up to the midnight-blue lake that glittered beyond, on the horizon—the very same lake that held the bodies of thousands of his brethren. He could not tear his eyes away from it, nor could he understand why it was always there. It was the only view of foreign scenery that never seemed to change. Giving up on the book, he walked toward the window and its abhorrent image, pressing his palms against the glass as he neared.
Suddenly, the sound of fighting ceased. There was only the sound of footsteps echoing on the flagstones, growing closer. Dread surged acidly up Alex’s throat. Natalie and Jari jumped to their feet, panic flashing across their faces as Ellabell poured more magic from her palms toward the shield rippling across the doorway. Her slender hands were shaking with fear, but she did not let up; her focus was steady.
“What are we going to do?” she whispered with terror as she did her best to bolster the shield.
“We wait. It might not be the Head,” Alex lied. It had to be him. He knew it wasn’t Elias walking up to the door. It could only be him.
They had run out of time.
Alex ran an anxious hand through his hair. They were looking at him with such hope, and he wasn’t about to let them down, but he wasn’t sure what he could do. The books hadn’t proved all that useful, and there weren’t any weapons hanging helpfully from the walls.
The lake caught his eye again. Moving to touch the glass, he wondered grimly if he was about to join his fellow Spellbreakers beneath the glittering surface, buried in a watery grave. There would be no last after him.
Uncertainly, he searched within himself for the semi-familiar glow of his essence, coiled up within him. He knew what he had to do, if it came to it. If it would save his friends, he knew he’d risk a piece of his soul.
As he turned to join the other three, something drew him back. Beneath his hand, he felt a peculiar sensation prickling at the skin—the same cold numbness he felt from anything magical.
His head snapped back as he saw, for the first time, the tiny shimmer of a delicately thin red line, barely wider than a strand of hair, lining the outside of one of the window panels. Then the memory of the book on magical travel came flooding back to him once more. Glorious disbelief coursed through Alex’s body.
“Come here!” he hissed to the others. “Bring Aamir.”
The window was a portal. A still, unmoving passageway that seemed strange, just like the book said. Of course, Alex thought, his mind racing, the view from every other window in the manor changed, except this one. This was the only window that didn’t go zipping off to Southeast Asia or the Amazon Rainforest each day—like in the hallways—or have an ever shifting landscape in the distance, as was the case in the library. It was forever looking out on the cemetery of his ancestors, always gazing upon the glittering lake.
The others looked at Alex in confusion, not understanding his sudden excitement.
“Bring him!” he yelled again, this time with more urgency.
They obeyed this time, dragging Aamir’s limp body over to the window, Natalie tucking a few books about her person as they rushed over.
Just then, there came a knock at the door.
“Little pigs, little pigs, let me come in,” jeered the Head through the wooden door. His voice was newly tinged with malicious amusement.
Alex pressed his fingers to the improbably thin red line and felt the familiar surge of agony pulse through his veins, though he guessed it must have been an old barrier, because it broke apart with a rapidity he had not expected. It fell to pieces with no added nasties, only the usual twist of his nerve endings being shredded with pain. An altogether unpleasant experience, but nothing he couldn’t handle. He had been bracing himself for extra defensive measures, but none came.
Knowing there was no time to force the pain away, no matter how viciously it seared through his body, Alex gritted his teeth and soldiered through the agony, tasting blood in his mouth as he bit into his cheek.
With great force, he pushed open the window. The panel swung outward as a cool whip of wind blew in through the gap, soothing the damp perspiration on Alex’s face. He peered out and saw, to his relief, that there was only a small drop between the ledge and the ground below. It would sting the ankles a bit, but it wouldn’t break anything.
“Jari, you and Aamir will go first,” he breathed, with no real time to explain as he bundled Aamir toward the open portal.
“This is wild,” Jari whispered, awed, as he clambered up beside Alex and sat on the edge of the windowsill, wrapping his arms around Aamir.
“Ready?” asked Alex.
Jari nodded. “As I’ll ever be.” He grinned broadly, peering down to see the distance for himself.
“I’ll huff and I’ll puff!” mocked the Head, rapping more loudly on the dense oak of the door. The sound made Alex’s heart pound faster as he gave Aamir and Jari a light shove. They tipped over the edge, disappearing into the darkness below.
“You okay?” called Alex, careful not to raise his voice too loudly, in case the Head heard. From the sarcastic, teasing quality in his mocking tone, Alex guessed the Head had no idea what they were up to in here. He wanted to keep it that way.
“In one piece,” came Jari’s voice from beneath the window. Alex heard the soft sound of Aamir’s body being dragged
along the grass, followed by Jari’s labored breathing.
“Little pigs, I know you’re in there,” the Head chuckled.
Alex knew their time was quickly disappearing. It wouldn’t take long for the Head to realize something was amiss and come barging through the door, but he needed to think. He needed to figure out a way to cover their tracks.
An idea popped into his head. He didn’t like it, which seemed to be a recurring theme, he thought dryly, but he knew it might be the only way to give them a decent head start.
“Natalie, do you think you can close the portal behind us?” he asked with trepidation, hating himself for the question. He knew the dangerous magic involved in opening and closing portals, but it was a risk they had to take. Natalie had been learning rare and complex magic; surely there was something in her arsenal they could use.
Each moment they wasted was peppered with the menacing sound of the Head’s voice, oozing through the door, intent on delivering the message from his nursery rhyme.
She frowned and glanced toward the door. “I know a trick that is not portal magic, that I read in one of the darker arts books, but I think it might possibly work for this,” she said, a gleam of excitement in her eyes. “Yes, I think it could.”
“Good. Close the portal—or whatever it is you’re going to do—as soon as I’ve jumped, okay?” he instructed hurriedly.
She nodded. “I will do my very best.”
“Good luck,” he whispered.
Natalie climbed up onto the ledge and jumped gracefully, her feet barely making a sound as she landed on the field below. Alex peered out to make sure she was okay and saw the glimmer of her magic working beneath her hands. The golden streams of energy were tinged with a much brighter pink and shot through with bolts of sapphire blue. Seeing them, he knew whatever she was conjuring came from a much darker place than he was happy with, but it was too late now; he needed her dark magic, whether he wanted to admit it or not.
Hastily, he hurried over to where Ellabell still sat, perched on the edge of the desk, focusing on the door. Golden light still flowed elegantly from her hands.
“Ellabell, you have to stop,” he said, but she shook her head, her eyes glittering with defiance and frightened tears.
Slowly, he placed his hands over hers and stemmed the current of her power, turning it into soft flurries of snow. It burned his palms a little, but it snapped her out of her intent trance.
“Ellabell, we have to go,” he whispered, still holding her hands in his.
She nodded, terror flaring in her eyes as another loud knock echoed through the room. Beneath his hands, her fingers trembled.
Making sure she didn’t turn to glance back at the door, Alex led her over to the window and helped her up onto the ledge. With a graceful leap, she followed the others out and down onto the field below. It was only Alex left now.
As he began to climb up onto the ledge, a thud of magic jarred against the door, making the chairs and diagonal bookshelf shudder violently. Alex knew with a rush of panic that he had mere seconds. Ellabell’s residual shield would hold, but not for very long.
Hearing another blast, followed instantly by the sound of splintering wood, Alex stepped onto the windowsill.
Natalie was below him, her eyes closed tight in concentration. The others stood far away from her, and Alex could see why. A vortex whirled wildly in front of Natalie, swirling with a myriad of colors, from the brightest cyan to the deepest purple and all the colors in between. In the very center of it was a stationary ball of energy, glowing with a dark pink pulse that seemed to suck in all the light around it. Shadows poured into the radiance, pulled with magnetic force.
Alex glanced back to see a crack ripping through the surface of the doorway. He turned and jumped, dropping down onto the grass beside Natalie as the window closed behind him. A loud blast erupted from within the manor, shaking the earth beneath him.
“Now,” he whispered.
Natalie gave a barely discernible nod as she lifted the vortex up toward the window, the expanse of it growing wider, sucking in more shadows and more light as it rose up. Everything it touched was drawn into the glowing center, and it seemed the portal was no different.
Another explosion blasted through the earth as Alex caught sight of a shadow rushing toward the window. Hands seemed to fumble at the catch, before swinging it open. At that moment, Natalie surged the vortex forward with greater ferocity, catching the figure in the swirling magic. A blood-curdling scream pierced the air as the grasping magic reached for the strong power at the Head’s very core. He pulled away with a furious roar, stepping back from the window, though Alex was convinced he could see the burning glow of red eyes beneath the hood.
Alex looked anxiously at Natalie, his heart thundering. Although the portal resembled an ordinary window to the untrained eye, Natalie’s magic quickly seemed to sense there was something magical about it, and stretched toward it hungrily. Before the Head could come at them again, the pulsing epicenter floated from the middle of the vortex and burned with blinding ferocity against the dim light coming from the office above, sucking a dense stream of a dark gray substance from the center of the window. The vortex pulsated again, ablaze with opalescent fire as it engulfed the very last of the dark mist, pulling the portal forcefully from its stronghold and swallowing it whole, until the window was no more. In its place were dew-soaked fields rolling away into the distance; the manor wall and window were gone from sight, moved away under Natalie’s skillful hands.
Now that the vortex had folded in on itself, disappearing in a silent swell of energy, Alex wondered if the window would still look out on the lake, or if the Head would see something else now.
He was staring up at the sky where the window had been when Natalie crumpled before him. Her legs gave way beneath her, but Alex reached out quickly, catching her just in time.
“Natalie, talk to me. Are you okay?” he asked, shaking her gently as he held her.
Her face was pale and her lips were colorless. She looked dead.
Alex shook her more vigorously. “No…” he begged. “Natalie. Natalie, wake up!”
She whimpered quietly, her eyes blinking open with a painful slowness. Her face and her clothes were drenched in sweat, and her black hair clung to her skin in damp tendrils. Her mouth moved slowly, as if she wanted to say something.
“Are you okay?” asked Alex gently, as the others gathered around Natalie’s slumped form.
She nodded slightly. “It… was very… powerful… magic,” she whispered as a small smile appeared on her cracked, bloodless lips.
“You took the portal away.” Alex was impressed and infuriated with his dear friend, in all her recklessness. She had no doubt saved the day, but Alex wasn’t sure at what cost.
She shook her head slowly. “I… moved it,” she breathed, the smile breaking into a broader grin.
“Promise me you didn’t do something stupid,” Alex said, his voice thick with emotion. He knew he would not be able to forgive himself if she had used a piece of her soul to help them escape.
She laughed quietly. “Not… life magic… just big… magic.”
“Do you promise me?”
She nodded, wincing slightly. “I… promise.”
“I think we should get out of here. Wherever here is,” said Jari, saying exactly what Alex was thinking. Aamir, still unconscious, was slumped against the blond-haired boy.
“You took the words right out of my mouth,” said Alex as he looped Natalie’s arm around his neck, pain still surging through his body like an all-over stitch.
Ellabell stepped toward Aamir’s dangling arm and pulled it around her shoulders, propping him up between herself and Jari.
“Let’s go,” said Alex, with hesitant relief, as the five of them took off across the pitch-black field, lit only by the dim glow of distant stars.
It was foolish, Alex knew, to hope they had found a portal leading to the normal world. All around them, the air buzz
ed with magic. They were no longer at Spellshadow Manor, but they had escaped to somewhere utterly foreign to them.
They looked only toward the glitter of the lake ahead as the grass crunched underfoot. The thin crescent of a selfish moon was out, offering little in the way of visibility, giving no indication of what could be lurking in the dark, waiting for them. It didn’t matter. It wasn’t important that they could see, just as long as their legs could run. That was all Alex was certain of. They had to run—only time would tell how much of a head start they had.
Though what they were running into, Alex wasn’t sure.
Epilogue
Elias slunk furtively from shadow to shadow, battered but undefeated, licking his wounds with the lashing tongue of his shadow-cat form. He pouted with remorse, knowing he could have fought for longer, but the Head had almost clasped his skeletal fingers around the dull red glow of his essence once more, reaching straight into the starry abyss of his chest. And he hadn’t been about to let that happen again, not after he had just gained it back. Running away would seem cowardly to others, but Elias wasn’t bothered by others. He had the glowing particle back, and it burned inside him, though he couldn’t feel its warmth.
He slithered in the darkness, peering down upon the grim aftermath of the uprising, looking over the wreckage, sliding from corridor to corridor to seek out the remaining students, his curiosity piqued. He was amused by the higgledy-piggledy state of the hallways, left in a jumbled mess by one of Gaze’s powerful spells.
Very clever, he thought, though it didn’t much affect him. He could still go where he pleased. It just took a bit longer.
Eventually, he found the rest of the survivors huddled in the mess hall, as safe as they could be beneath the protection of Professor Gaze. He had always liked Gaze. It was sad to see her so old and still here, all that power wasted.
He purred with amusement as a weary Professor Lintz entered the room, his large figure covered in deep lacerations from the magical beating he had taken at the Head’s hands. He was limping slightly, too, but he was, surprisingly, alive. Elias wasn’t sure how happy he was about this turn of events. Though Lintz had never given him reason to dislike him, Elias had found him guilty by association. A sniveling weasel by association. Still, he couldn’t help feeling a touch impressed by the sight of the old codger still standing.