The Breaker (The Secret of Spellshadow Manor #2)

Alex ran across the marble toward them, standing in front of Natalie and Jari.

“Stop! Your anger is misplaced,” Alex stated. “The person in there is not who you think he is. He is not some faceless, masked monster who wants to hurt you, and there is no Professor Escher. That man in there is Aamir—your friend and classmate. He is suffering under a curse, laid upon him by the Head. He is not responsible for any of this.” Alex gestured toward the walls of the manor. “Your anger is with the Head, not with Aamir, who needs our help as much as anyone.”

“This could have happened to any one of us,” Natalie declared, nodding to Alex before turning to the mob. “Aamir was only doing what the Head made him do. He could not say no, the same way none of us could have refused if we had been in his position.”

“You’re only saying that because he was your friend!” sneered Jun. The group behind him grumbled in agreement.

“It’s not Aamir’s fault!” snarled Jari.

“Of course you’d say that. You were his pet. Always tagging along behind him like a lost puppy,” laughed Jun with a cold mockery.

“You shut your mouth!” yelled Jari as Alex held him back.

“All of you, stop!” Alex shouted. “We have to work together and use this opportunity. Aamir could know something we can use against the Head, and you can be sure that if any of you harm him, the Head will come running.”

Jun frowned. “You’re lying,” he hissed.

The mob shouted insults and angry slurs behind their leader, howling for Aamir’s comeuppance, furious at being held back by three upstarts. It didn’t matter that two of them had helped train them; they seemed hell-bent on their revenge.

Jun raised two cupped hands with a sneer, posed to strike. But before he could even twist his wrists to release a spell, Natalie had formed a shining shield of gold between them. It thrummed powerfully as the mob stepped back with a cry of discontent.

“Give us Aamir!” Jun shouted, those behind him echoing the call.

“Do you really want to wait here until my shield falters?” Natalie challenged.

“It’ll be days,” Alex said, casting Natalie a wry smile.

Jun snorted and formed a ball of energy between his palms, throwing the glowing orb toward Natalie. The blow ricocheted off the shield, crackling above the gathered heads of the mob and frying the top of the doorframe with a sharp sizzle, blackening the wood. No one else dared attempt to break the shield after that, though a few shouted brazenly that they might.

Jun motioned for his entourage to gather around, and they set into a hushed debate about their next plan of attack, flashing furtive glances toward Natalie and her glinting barrier. Her own gaze never faltered.

Alex gave a low sigh at the raging voice of Aamir, who was screaming abuse from across the ballroom, doing himself no favors. Unfortunately, it seemed the shield did not silence the person within, only kept their magic from doing any harm.

“You’ll all pay for this! You are nothing! When the Head returns, he will punish you all! You will wish you had never set a foot out of line, you fools!” he bellowed from within his pulsing cell, his words descending into a bitter cackle.

Alex stepped into Jari’s place as the blond-haired boy moved quickly back toward his friend and knelt on the floor in front of the rippling barrier of his prison. He could not reach Aamir through Alex’s anti-magic, which burned his hands with a sharp wince as he attempted it. Alex felt the judder of Jari’s impact, feeling sorrowful as he watched Jari try to grasp his dear companion by the shoulders. Alex would have lowered the shield, but was too worried about what Aamir might do. He watched Jari sit cross-legged on the floor and talk softly to Aamir.

“I am your friend. Aamir, it is me. I have been with you from the beginning, through thick and thin in this place. You have to listen to me. You have to know it is me,” begged Jari, his voice heartbreaking to hear. “Remember my first night, when I was terrified and had been chucked into the room by Siren Mave? I couldn’t stop crying, do you remember? Remember me, Aamir. Remember all the times we have shared together, as the closest of friends,” he whispered, reaching his hand up as if he were about to test the barrier again. He held it there, frozen, instead.

Aamir smashed against the shield, bouncing back. He roared up close to the very edge of the barrier, screaming in Jari’s face. Alex saw Jari flinch, but the younger boy was not deterred.

“Please, Aamir. I’d still be a shivering wreck if it hadn’t been for you,” he whispered.

Alex listened as Jari recounted colorful tales of laughter and mischief from before Alex had arrived. A prank gone awry, leading to Renmark emerging from the teachers’ quarters in nothing but his underwear. Races with clockwork beetles along the wooden benches in the mechanics lab. Jumping from the stacks of the library for the first time and seeing who could land the farthest. Aamir always helping Jari out of a situation, like his futile attempt at wooing Ellabell. With each story, Jari’s throat tightened, the emotion evident in his voice.

But none of the stories seemed to be getting through to Aamir, who thrashed wildly against the shield. Alex could feel the ripples coming from it, but didn’t dare add another layer of anti-magic to the barrier until the mob had dispersed. Who knew what they would do to him if they discovered his secret? They were already hungry for a lynching.

“I know you’re in there, Aamir,” Jari murmured earnestly, his eyes squeezed tightly shut. “It’s not you speaking. It’s that golden line playing tricks with your mind. It’s not you—it’s the Head controlling you.”

Alex frowned at Jari’s whispered words, and a thought rushed into his head. He turned to the gathered students.

“It’s not Aamir speaking,” Alex repeated. “It’s the golden line they put on his wrist, controlling him. You know, like the ones they put where we’re not supposed to go?”

The mob nodded uncertainly. Natalie looked at Alex and tentatively lowered her shield, the relief clear on her face as the angry tension in the room dissipated and morphed into an atmosphere of collective curiosity.

“Well, they can use them on us, too. They used one on Aamir. They put it on his wrist and made him do as they pleased,” Alex said, his voice rising. He had to make his argument convincing enough to rile them up against the Head instead of the Head’s innocent avatar.