The Breaker (The Secret of Spellshadow Manor #2)

Each time he saw her at the end of the corridor, knowing they would have to cross paths, she would look at him for the briefest moment before turning swiftly and walking the other way, scurrying along with her head down. If they stood closely in the line for dinner, Alex would watch her remove herself and loiter toward the end, only rejoining it once Alex had moved away and taken his seat elsewhere. He had tried to speak to her a number of times, but she didn’t seem to want him anywhere near her. The realization stung him a little, but he could hardly blame her; he still wasn’t sure what, exactly, had happened to her, but the trauma of it lingered. Every time he thought of the thick sound in her throat and the blood soaking through the delicate pink fabric of the handkerchief, his stomach turned, knowing it was his fault. He wished she would at least let him hug her or help in some way, so that he could ease her suffering.

Clambering up the rungs of one of the library’s giant columns, Alex stepped out onto its middle platform and walked along the rows of books. He wanted to find out more about shielding and defensive techniques so he could try to invert them—but, as fate would have it, at the end of the row, drawn up against the stacks with her knees to her chin, was Ellabell. She looked as if she was muttering something to herself, her lips moving but barely a sound coming out as her eyes flitted distractedly across the pages of a book open on the ground beside her. She was wearing new glasses with square black rims that made her look as studious as she was, her fingers toying anxiously with strands of hair that had escaped the tight ponytail at the back of her head as she read over the book’s words, completely absorbed in the task.

“Ellabell?” said Alex softly, not wanting to frighten her.

Startled, she jumped back against the stacks of books, the shelves shaking beneath her desperate hands as she struggled to get to her feet. Her blue eyes were wide with panic as they looked up at him.

“Ellabell, wait,” Alex pleaded, but her gaze had shifted toward the barrier of the walkway.

Without saying a word, her book still open on the floor, she vaulted the banister and sailed through the air, landing with a light thud on the ground. Alex watched her go, feeling crestfallen as she raced off toward the entrance to the library, not once looking back up to where Alex stood.

Reluctantly, he tidied away the open book on the floor. It was a heavy thing bound in a peculiar, soft, silken cover that read Mistress Bodmin’s Guide to Mythical Creatures in uniform black lettering that seemed to have been seared into the jacket. Alex flicked through the first couple of pages, which featured intricate drawings of dragons with jeweled scales that glinted in a thousand facets of color and fierce jaws that grinned menacingly. Closing it again, he put the book back on the shelf, reaching up to fetch the volume he had been seeking on magical defense. As he descended the tower, walking past the spot where Ellabell had landed in her hurry to get away from him, he made a silent promise to himself to keep out of her way, until she was ready to talk to him. If that was never, then so be it.

Fate, again, it seemed, had other plans. As Alex took his usual seat at the back of Professor Gaze’s class, Gaze announced they would be doing something a little bit different, just to mix things up. With a cheerful grin, she explained that she would be pairing the class up to do a week-long project, to work on some of the shielding techniques they had been learning. They would duel and test the weaknesses in their defenses. The class groaned. Alex’s one of the loudest as he wondered how he would get around his magical shortcomings if he was paired with someone other than Jari or Natalie.

Gaze strolled around the classroom, shouting out the named pairs she had decided upon. Alex waited on tenterhooks as Gaze neared him.

“Alex and Ellabell,” she announced, frowning as she caught Alex’s wince of concern. “Something wrong with that, Webber?” she asked, lifting a scraggly gray eyebrow in his direction.

Alex wondered if Gaze had sensed the discomfort between the two of them, in her keen, perceptive way, and decided to step in. It seemed like a scheme to him, to get him and Ellabell together, especially as it meant separating him from the two people who could conjure for him. Gaze wasn’t stupid. There was more to this pairing than met the eye. In the meantime, he’d have to hope Jari and Natalie were paired with each other, giving them a chance to help him out, taking turns as he underwent his lesson-time counseling session, courtesy of Gaze.

Alex shook his head. “No, Professor. I just had a twinge in my neck,” he lied feebly, pretending to massage the inner corners of his shoulders. Gaze snorted with amusement and walked away. Alex didn’t dare look over to see Ellabell’s reaction, knowing it wouldn’t be a particularly favorable one.

She was sitting at the front of the classroom with her back to him, her shoulders slumped and her head hung low. There was a mug of something steaming in front of her, hand-delivered by the professor. As Gaze yelled for them to sit with their partners and begin, Alex was surprised to see Ellabell scrape back the legs of her chair, gathering her things from the worktop and placing the mug precariously on top before making her way slowly toward the back of the classroom, where Alex sat. Placing her things on the table, she pulled back the chair of the vacant seat to the left of him and sat down, keeping her gaze forward and her hands wrapped tightly around the ceramic of the mug, warming them.

Able to observe her more closely, Alex noticed two small, healing scabs at each corner of her mouth, thin, like papercuts. He frowned, only to be distracted by the sight of a large, discolored bruise on the side of her head closest to him, just above her ear and half-hidden beneath the curling sweep of her hair. He desperately wanted to ask her if she was okay, but the vibe she was giving off wasn’t exactly friendly. There was a frostiness to her manner, and Alex didn’t want to cause her any further distress with unwanted questions.

“So… where do you want to start?” asked Alex, flipping open one of the textbooks Gaze had laid out for them.

Ellabell shrugged.

“We could start with handheld shields?” he suggested, turning to the right page. It showed pictures of sketched wizards holding a small circular disc of a shield on their forearms, to rebound any incoming magic.

Ellabell nodded.

“Do you want to go first?” he offered, pointing to the page.

Ellabell shrugged again, lifting the mug to her lips to take a long sip.

“What did she give you?” Alex asked, attempting to divert the conversation.

“Tea,” she answered, her voice muffled and peculiar, as if her tongue were swollen.

“Peppermint?” He tried to smile, but she wouldn’t look in his direction.

“No,” she replied, shaking her head lightly. Her mouth moved like she was in discomfort, and seeing it made Alex’s concern want to burst from his lips. Pushing it down, he remembered his silent promise to himself and swiftly changed the subject back to the topic of shielding. At the end of the lesson, Ellabell bolted from the room before Alex could even say goodbye.

As the week drew on, she began to relax ever so slightly in his company during Gaze’s lessons. Not by much, but Alex could sense a subtle shift in her comfort around him. She was still twitchy and jumped at the smallest sound, but was more forthcoming with her words as they worked on their project.