The Breaker (The Secret of Spellshadow Manor #2)

“You must take them off—they look ridiculous!” Natalie said. The two boys shuffled the scarves down, exposing their faces. They couldn’t deny it felt nicer to breathe properly than to have their faces covered.

Faces fully visible, they began the stealthy journey toward the blue line of the teachers’ quarters. They moved slowly through the dark hallways, the dimming torches barely shedding any light on the path ahead of them. They could have done with some moonlight, but the worlds and lands beyond the shifting hallway windows were having none of it; they refused to offer up any glimmer of light, giving only dark storms and savage tempests, clouds thick and furious, smothering any sunlight or moonlight that might have helped the trio find their way. It was as if the manor itself were angry at their disobedience.

Suddenly, Natalie’s voice whispered back to the other two as a dim blue light appeared in the distance.

“There it is,” she breathed, pressing herself flat against the wall. “We should check for any teachers.”

They crept closer to the glow of the blue line and stopped beside it. Natalie peered around the wall and looked up through the darkened corridor beyond, squinting to try to make out any shapes lurking in the shadows. It was empty—as silent as the rest of the manor.

“It is all clear,” she said. Alex shuffled past her to get to the blue line. He knelt on the ground, the stone cold beneath his knee, even through the fabric of his trousers.

Taking a deep breath, he found the energy coiled within him and felt it course through his veins as he willed it into his hands, the familiar sensation of it twirling around his fingers as he conjured a mass of anti-magic between his palms. Seeing the raw ball of anti-magic, rippling black and silver, he focused his thoughts upon it, manifesting it into something more useful. With a slight turn of his wrist, the anti-magic stretched out into a blade, the edge thinning to a point, as it pulsed and sparked with icy energy.

He lowered the blade toward the blue line, surprised to see the weapon holding its shape more easily as he focused his mind more intensely on what he wanted to see, using the turn of his wrist to build the definition of the long knife. As he touched the edge to the blue line, it cut through the stream of sapphire light as if it were butter, severing the connection as the two ends broke apart. Alex felt the push of the magic against his hands as he held the blade of anti-magic against the ground, but it did not creep through him or try to attack him. In fact, the blue line seemed to have very little effect at all on Alex, barely bothering him as he deflected it elsewhere. He moved the severed ends away, leaving a safe gap for the others to pass through.

“Nice job,” Jari whispered. They walked tentatively through, into the unfamiliar territory of the teachers’ quarters.

“Thanks.” Alex grinned as he drew his anti-magic back into himself. It looked as though the self-teaching might be finally paying off.

The teachers’ quarters were hopelessly steeped in pitch black as the three of them shuffled up into the first corridor. They could see nothing ahead of them, no light of any kind. Their only guide was the towering walls beside them.

“Wait one moment,” Natalie whispered as Jari bumped into her.

“Sorry,” he said softly.

A small golden glow trickled down toward the floor, meandering delicately from Natalie’s fingers. Suddenly, a thin stream of light shone beneath them, a snake of bright yellow, glowing in the center of the masonry below their feet. As they took a step forward, the snake of light moved ahead, showing them the direction they needed to go in.

“Nice trick,” Alex commended.

“It is a new one,” Natalie said.

They followed the ribbon of glowing energy, keeping an eye on it as it slithered along the floor, casting a dim glow on the walls on either side. It was not as bright as they might have liked, their eyes still squinting into the darkness ahead, but it was enough to see by, and the dim glow would provide some camouflage if they needed to cut and run. It was not bright enough for them to clearly see each other’s faces.

Alex paused when the snaking torch lit up a series of frames on either side of the corridor. In them were pictures of people he had never seen—stern portraits, all painted in the same pose, wearing the same black robes that marked them as teachers. At the bottom of each portrait, set into the varnished wood of the frame, was a small bronze plaque, bearing the name of whomever the image resembled. Alex didn’t recognize any of the names as his eyes glanced across the engraved letters. Some of the dates beneath went back decades. Picture upon picture of stuffy, stony-faced teachers lined the wall in a grim gallery. It wasn’t until they moved into a different network of corridors that Alex saw a name he recognized.

The picture was in the same sort of frame as the previous one, the canvas gathering a sheen of dust. But the plaque at the bottom was shinier, as if it had only recently been placed there. The face was unmistakable, though younger and fresher. Barely any lines marred the smooth features around the figure’s bright eyes, which jumped from the canvas in a deep, captivating blue. The hair was dark, untouched by the gray Alex had been used to seeing, and there was a half-smile of victory on the lips, though the pose was supposed to be a stern, serious one. He had been young and hopeful once—a force to be reckoned with. The proof was there, hanging from the wall, with his name carved beneath: Professor R. Derhin. Alex ran his thumb along the lettering, the engraving rough beneath his fingertip, and he felt a twinge of remorse for the young man in the portrait.

I bet he never thought he’d end his days still trapped here, Alex thought sadly.