The Breaker (The Secret of Spellshadow Manor #2)

Beside it hung a similar image, though the plaque at the bottom was missing. Still, it wasn’t hard to see who the image was supposed to be. Lintz sat a little taller in the picture, with a shock of ginger hair and the beginnings of a reddish-toned moustache, nowhere near the monstrosity he had grown over the years. His hazel eyes were lighter, almost honey-colored, and there was a smile upon his lips too—a mischievous glimmer, twinned with that of Derhin. His face was slimmer and almost chiseled in the rise of good cheekbones, the apples of them rosy and his jawline firm, no hint of a jowl, just the upward curve of a thick neck and a strong chin. He had been far better-looking than his older self suggested.

Alex felt sympathy toward Professor Lintz. The man had to walk past the image of his younger self, day in, day out, hung up beside his brother-in-arms—painted at a time when they had still had their whole lives ahead of them, their minds still racing with madcap schemes of escape and a spark of hope. A hope that had sputtered out long ago, no doubt, a world away from the crumpled old man they had seen in the mechanics lab, tinkering away with his owl to take his mind off what had happened to his black-haired friend in the picture beside him. To walk past that reminder every day, that notice of their failure to escape… Alex could not imagine the suffering it brought to Lintz. He felt a flicker of guilt, mingled with curiosity, wondering what sort of friendship those two must have had. It had lasted all those years, stayed as they aged from mere boys to old men. A sense of dread, too, ran cold up his spine.

If they couldn’t do it, after all that time, how can we? Alex pondered, his eyes glancing to Natalie and Jari, walking just ahead of him. Their hopes were hauntingly similar to those of Lintz and Derhin, with their eternal optimism of one day breaking free from the walls of the manor and returning to the lives they’d had before, to the families and friends and dreams they had once taken so utterly for granted.

There was another portrait, down the line, just after the image of Lintz. The indent of a plaque remained at the bottom of the varnished frame, where the bronze had once been screwed in, but the plaque itself was missing. The figure sitting within the frame was familiar to Alex somehow, with a striking face and piercing brown eyes, dark hair combed neatly back. The man sat with a sense of pride and authority, a sardonic smile playing upon his lips. It certainly wasn’t Renmark or any of the others. Nor was it any of the statues buried deep in the crypt, or reminiscent of the Head or anyone Alex had seen in the manor. And yet the man looked irritatingly familiar.

He would have stopped longer to look at the portrait, but the snake of light had disappeared around the corner, along with Natalie and Jari. Alex hurried after it, entering a broader corridor that stretched far into the distance, with doors on either side. The doors themselves were plain, boasting none of the elaborate etchings of the doors elsewhere in the manor, although some had small ceramic tiles hanging from the stonework beside them. On the tiles were different names and words, etched onto the smooth white enamel with black paint, perfectly curled into cursive lettering by a deft hand. They passed tiles which said Common Room, Library, Kitchen, Storage Cupboard—all the usual dull necessities—spread out at the bottom end of the corridor.

Alex wanted to pause the group for a moment and duck quickly into the library, to see if they might get their hands on any contraband books, but he guessed what Jari’s response might be. Their goal was Aamir; he could check out the library on the way back, when their objective wasn’t quite so pressing. Still, Alex felt a pang of regret as they slipped swiftly past it.

As they moved farther along, careful to listen for voices coming from any of the communal areas, the tiles grew more personal. Natalie paused beside one tile with an anxious look on her face, barely visible in the hazy glow of the light-snake. On it were written the words Professor A. Nagi.

“Do you think this might be it?” Alex joked, trying to lighten the mood.

“Do you think we should knock?” Natalie asked, lifting her hand.

“No way,” said Jari. He pushed forward, turned the handle, and stepped boldly into the room beyond.

Aamir stood near the door, his shoulders hunched as he examined an array of belongings laid out neatly on the bed in front of him—pants, shirts, socks, underwear. A black leather bag sat to one side, open.

When Aamir turned, his face morphed into a mask of horror as he saw them standing there, smiling at him with innocent joy on their faces. Alex closed the door behind them, and Aamir observed the trio with a flustered look of fear.

“What are you doing here?” he gasped, his voice tight with anxiety. “You shouldn’t be here—you need to leave, right now.” Aamir took Jari by the shoulders and ushered him toward the open door.

“We came to see if you were all right,” Jari explained sullenly, resisting Aamir as he pushed him toward the door.

“You can’t be here! You need to leave. You need to go. Now!” Aamir pleaded, diving for the door handle and opening it wide. He shoved them roughly through, back into the corridor, pressing a finger to his lips as they stood out in the darkness. He paused, listening intently to the silence. “You shouldn’t have come—you really shouldn’t have come,” he whispered, his voice dripping with terror.

“We wanted to make sure you were okay… Jari told us what happened,” Natalie tried to explain, but Aamir was restless, his eyes scanning the shadows, his neck jerking backward in sharp motions as he glanced anxiously over his shoulder.

“You need to leave,” Aamir murmured again. “Come with me—you need to go. You really shouldn’t have come here.” He took hold of Jari’s arm and set off down the corridor with the rest in tow. Beneath his palm, he held the dim glow of a ball of magic, casting a faint light as they walked.

“We came for you,” Jari repeated, his face crumpling at his friend’s disinterest.

“I know… but you shouldn’t have.” Aamir shook his head, picking up the pace as he strode onwards, obviously hell-bent on getting them out of the teachers’ quarters as quickly as possible.

“If it’s the curfew, then we’re ready for that,” Jari told him as he struggled against the pull of the older boy’s strength.

“It’s not the curfew. You just—” Aamir began, but Jari cut him off sharply.

“We shouldn’t have come. I think we’re starting to get the picture,” he snapped.