The Breaker (The Secret of Spellshadow Manor #2)

“You could at least try,” Jari muttered sullenly, shaking Aamir’s hand off his back.

“I’m sorry. It’s like I said, things have changed. Everything has changed,” Aamir replied. “Even if you could get this thing off, it wouldn’t mean I was free. I still wouldn’t be able to come here as I pleased, and run about with you guys the way I used to. Even if it was gone, I’d still have to act as if it were there. Do you understand?” Aamir’s voice was heavy with sadness as he sat back against the cellar wall, glancing up at the ceiling. He looked so very tired. “The risk is too high, for all of us.”

“Aamir?” Alex said.

Aamir tipped his head forward again, leveling his gaze with Alex. “What is it?” he asked.

“Would you mind if I tested the… in case it comes up later on… down the line?” Alex pointed at the band on Aamir’s wrist.

Aamir looked down at the line, watching it pulse and fizz and crackle against his skin. He looked to Alex, and nodded slightly. “Just to check—to touch and no more,” Aamir warned.

Alex agreed and moved closer to Aamir until he sat cross-legged in front of the older boy. Slowly, he reached out toward the golden band, and had barely touched a fingertip to the ripple of energy before it began to retaliate against Alex’s anti-magic. The power was immense, sending a pulse of frozen tendrils up Alex’s arm, numbing his fingers. He snatched his hand away and drew a sharp breath. The golden line was more powerful than Alex had imagined. He felt the shiver of it still as it snaked through his veins toward his stomach. Trying to break it would be futile, Alex realized, but he couldn’t bring himself to reveal this to Jari, who watched him with quiet hope.

“It’s not too bad,” Alex managed. “I imagine, with practice, I might be able to come up with something. Maybe a pair of scissors.” He laughed stiffly, the humor not reaching his eyes. Natalie chuckled softly and Jari broke a smile, but Aamir’s face remained stoic.

“Thank you for trying,” Aamir said quietly. He reached out to shake Alex’s hand, drawing him into a hug as he did so. Alex understood. Aamir knew what Alex knew—that it was useless trying to remove the thing.

“I’ll work on it, Aamir. I promise I will,” Alex murmured close to Aamir’s ear. “Somehow, we’ll get you back.”

When they drew apart, Alex could see the misery in Aamir’s eyes, though he covered it swiftly as Jari asked if he wanted another round. A mask of bravado fell across Aamir’s face, smothering the vulnerability, as he glanced over to his friend.

“I can’t stay,” Aamir said apologetically. “And you should all be thinking about heading back.”

“Let’s call it a night,” Alex agreed.

There had been more than enough excitement for one evening.





Chapter 5





Alex stirred in his sleep, waking suddenly to the darkened room around him, the soft sound of his roommate breathing the only noise. The curtains above him billowed slightly, but that was not what had awoken him. Rubbing his eyes, still scratchy with sleep, he propped himself up onto his elbows and glanced around.

Part of him expected to see Siren Mave, furtively removing the last traces of Aamir from the room—gathering up the folded pile of his bedding from the mattress nearby, stealing away with pillows and duvets and sheets, into the night. But that part of the room was still, the bedding undisturbed, everything neat and in its place. Jari was splayed out in a bizarre position, one leg hanging off the side of his bed, arms stretched out on either side of him, snoring into his pillow.

Something else had woken Alex.

His sleepy eyes caught a glimpse of a shiny blur that darted across the bottom of the bed. It moved quickly, with a quiet whirr. Alex sat up a little higher, squinting to try to make out the object running to and fro across the blanket. Whatever it was ducked and rolled, barreling into one of the wrinkles in the sheets made by Alex’s leg. He felt it knock into his knee with an ungainly thud.

Peering around the corner of the wrinkle were two small, beady eyes, glittering black in the darkness of the room. The creature crept out from its burrow, moving stealthily toward Alex, across his stomach and up onto the rise of his chest, the tiny feet barely making an indent. Alex could see that it was a mouse, delicately crafted in silver and gold panels of different shapes and sizes, all working together in perfect unison. The clockwork parts were intricate and beautiful to behold as they powered the small legs forward, one at a time, its impossibly fine tail whipping from side to side as the precise, bronze, half-circular discs of the ears twitched. Even the nose, a painstakingly applied triangle of gold inlay, seemed to sniff the air as the mouse approached, those glittering eyes watching Alex cautiously—the behavior so skillfully lifelike. The creature paused on the upward incline of his ribcage, and Alex saw the glow of pale amber light flowing easily through the mechanisms, keeping the pieces moving.

The mouse twitched its ears at Alex, turning sideways a little. Alex could feel the pad of the mechanical feet on his chest, which brought an awestruck smile to his face. The smile turned to a frown of curiosity as he caught sight of a small scroll, rolled up and tied to the mouse’s delicate metal leg with a thin ribbon of silver twine. He reached over gently, expecting the mouse to dart away from him—the creature was so realistic—but the mouse stayed put, allowing Alex to remove the small roll of paper from its hind leg.

He unrolled it slowly. On the minuscule sheet of paper was a message, written in the tiniest hand. Alex had to strain to see it in the darkness as he brought it closer to his eyes, using the sliver of moonlight that strayed in through a gap in the curtains to read. There was a lot written, for such a small scroll.

The note was a warning.

You ought to be more careful with your secrets, Alex. Not everyone can be trusted with them. Think twice before you speak. Your lack of discretion is disturbing—I would have expected more from you. Be careful. You never know who is listening.

Alex turned the paper over for some clue as to who the sender might be, but it wasn’t signed.

Frustrated, he read the note again, its vagueness irking him as he tried to make sense of the warning. The tone was definitely threatening. Almost accusatory, Alex thought as he paused on his ‘lack of discretion.’ What lack of discretion? Racking his brain, he tried to think who might have sent it. Who might want to warn him, or at least chastise him like that? His eyes darted to the shadows that draped from the rafters.