The Breaker (The Secret of Spellshadow Manor #2)

Professor Gaze had an innate sensitivity to the world around her, seemingly able to pick up on small undercurrents in the atmosphere. Whenever she was near, Alex could sense her observing him—not in an aggressive or intrusive way, but simply as if she could sense something was amiss in him and was trying to pinpoint it, like a puzzle in need of solving.

“How peculiar,” she muttered to herself one day as she passed so close to him her wrist almost brushed his shoulder.

“What is?” asked Alex.

“Are you quite well, child?” she asked.

He frowned. “I think so.”

“Are you cold? You seem cold,” she said. “I must offer you a hot beverage. Can I fetch you a hot beverage? I have a variety of exotic and flavorsome teas.” That puzzled expression played upon her lined features as she waited for him to accept.

“Oh, I’m honestly fine, Professor,” insisted Alex, recalling the chill in his bones. He’d endured it for so long now that his Spellbreaker body had somehow adapted to it, and he barely noticed it anymore.

“But you are cold. You seem cold,” repeated Gaze. “Please allow me to fetch you a tea. Something simple, perhaps. Peppermint?”

“Uh, okay,” he conceded, watching her as she rushed off to fix him a mug of peppermint tea. She knew he was cold. He couldn’t help but find that curious. He didn’t shiver anymore; it was more of a dull numbness in the pit of his stomach, never really coming up to the surface of his skin like it used to. But Gaze had sensed it in him.

He drank the peppermint tea, mulling over the thought, as Gaze rushed around, helping students with their magical tasks. The hot liquid heated him from the inside out, and he was glad of it as he drained the mug. He guessed he must have been colder than he’d realized, though the tea only gave him a momentary respite from the insistent chill.

On many occasions after that, Alex came into the lesson to find a mug of steaming tea already waiting for him on the desk, in countless exotic varieties. Often, there was one waiting for Natalie, too.

Alex had overheard Gaze several times noting that Natalie seemed fatigued and should take a rest. When Natalie refused, claiming to be fine, Gaze had zipped off to her tea chest in the corner and whipped up a mug of pungent tea that wafted across the classroom, sour-smelling and heady. She had insisted that Natalie drink the infusion. For days, Natalie had been telling Alex she was fine, though Alex had his suspicions about her wellbeing. With her doing so much, studying all hours of the day, helping him out in lessons, on top of her extra tutoring with Renmark, Alex knew she had to be exhausted, though she was too stubborn to ever tell him she was struggling. He watched Natalie drink the tea, his eyebrows rising in surprise as she downed the entire mug. Her mood seemed to instantly lighten. Alex could see Natalie’s tiredness fall away as Gaze gave a pleased grin.

“Excellent. You feel better?” she asked Natalie.

Natalie nodded, smiling. “I do, thank you.”

“Good. You let me know if you need more, and I’ll brew you up a batch of the good stuff,” cackled Gaze as she zipped away to help another student in need.

Even Jari could not escape Gaze’s perceptive energies. She moved past him one lesson, remarking with a high whistle that his aura was particularly angry that day. Unfortunately, she did not appear to have a tea that cured anger. At the end of the lesson, she simply asked that he stay behind for a moment. Jari had waved Alex and Natalie on, promising to catch up as he stepped back into the classroom. He never told them what she had said to him, but his mood had seemed to brighten.

It was undeniable that, as well as being a kind, compassionate teacher, Professor Gaze was also a powerful mage. There was an ancient quality to her, an imperceptible aura that pulsated with raw magical ability. Complex spells wove deftly from her fingertips as if they were a beginner’s glamor, moving like molten gold at every subtle whim. In her lessons, she focused on teaching them defensive strategies that could be used against Mages of all strengths and abilities. The spells themselves were intricate and mind-boggling, but she made them seem easier. She took the time to stand with every student and explain the ins and outs of the defensive design, making them understand what they were capable of.

When she paused beside Alex’s desk to watch the magic thread spool from his fingers with Natalie’s assistance, Gaze frowned, an amused smile on her thin lips.

“You can do this,” she said to him in a low tone, touching his hands. “You have the ability, child. A powerful ability,” she added, her voice barely above a whisper as she gave him a secretive wink. It didn’t need explanation; at first he felt terrified that she’d guessed his secret, but then he felt confidence swell in his chest as he took what she’d given the class and thought about how he might use it for anti-magical purposes. He and Natalie kept up the charade, but, always, Gaze would stop beside him and whisper the same words, touching his hand lightly, before offering up another cup of tea to combat his chill. It gave him more hope than any teacher or textbook in the school had done so far.

Every pupil seemed to adore her, and she had time for each and every one. No problem was too small, and she did not shy away from teaching them powerful magic that could very well have been used against her. At her age, Alex mused, perhaps she no longer cared if anyone challenged her. He watched as other students learned to deflect and snatch magic, but the thing that truly intrigued him was the creation of great, powerful shields. None were as powerful as Gaze’s, which seemed forged from pure, solid metal, but others had successes of their own, some conjuring screens of light that thrummed powerfully in curved arches around them. Alex made a mental note to try to inverse the method to create his own extra-strong anti-magical shield that night, in the peace of his dormitory; it was too cool not to.

With a conspiratorial glance around the room, Gaze rapped on the edge of the blackboard with her bony fist and waited for the students to fall silent.

“I’ve got a treat for you,” she whispered gleefully. “I’m going to show you something very secret and very rare—something none of you will ever have seen, I guarantee it! It’s so very exciting, so very, very special… but before I show you, you must promise not to breathe a word of it. That’s the deal, my little chickens.”

The room bristled with anticipation, wondering what it could be.

“Do you promise?” she asked as she flashed them an irreverent grin.

The room chorused a “yes,” their eyes focused on her as they waited to see what she would do next.