The Chain (The Secret of Spellshadow Manor #3)

“We’ve got to remember what Helena said—there are books the students aren’t allowed to see, even here,” he explained. “So what we’re looking for might not even be here.”

This revelation put a damper on everyone’s mood as they continued to sift through the stacks of books, hoping that one of them would have at least a glimmer of hope within.

Alex’s mind, however, was distracted by a far bigger picture. He was trying to focus on his other idea, the one running alongside the plan to escape to the outside world. In his mind’s eye, he pictured the black bottles with their pulsing red interiors, and felt the overwhelming desire for their destruction course through him, making his eyes burn. He had been thinking about it ever since his failed trip to the arena, though he still wasn’t sure if he wanted to destroy them all or steal them all, in order to keep them out of the hands of the Head and Headmistress. They could also be a useful bargaining chip for the freedom of those at Spellshadow, perhaps, and for the five of them to be returned to the real world too, should they fail to find a way of their own. He knew it was pretty optimistic, but he also knew the value of that stuff, especially after hearing Alypia’s fears about it running out. If he played his cards right, he could find himself in control.

The only problem was, he still didn’t know where the bottles were hidden, and the only person he could ask wasn’t with them, because they had chosen to push her away. He sighed, wondering if leaving Helena out was the right thing to do. She was still useful and willing to help, despite the white lie she had told. How many of them were guilty of similar lies?

Remembering Gaze’s words, Alex turned to Aamir. “Do you think we’ve been too hard on Helena?” he asked, addressing the group, though his stare remained with Aamir.

“She lied,” replied Natalie.

“Yeah, but haven’t we all lied at some point? You can understand why she didn’t tell us—we would have run a mile,” Alex said thoughtfully. “What I can’t understand is why you lied to us, Aamir.” He waited for Aamir to reply, as the others turned their gaze toward him.

“I’m sorry,” Aamir whispered. “I know it was a stupid thing to do. I should have just told you, but I was ashamed of the things I did when I was Professor Escher. When they brought me here, I was trained in so many foul things. I was taught how to keep students in line, how to manipulate them using mind techniques and magic that made them experience pain and suffering like you wouldn’t believe. Those post-curfew punishments we were all so worried about? We had a right to be scared. They trained me in how to lash students, how to curse students, what to do if they broke the rules—it was a death sentence… and I was expected to dole it out.” He drew in a breath, his throat tight as sorrow gleamed in his eyes. “So many awful things were expected of us. We were told to use whatever means necessary to hold our positions as teachers. They taught me so many vile spells, to hurt and punish and emotionally scar students. They taught me all of that here, and I didn’t want to think about it—I didn’t want you to think of me that way. I wanted to bury Escher for good, and I went about it in entirely the wrong way.” His brow furrowed as he held his head in his hands.

This tale seemed to placate the others, who rushed to embrace the softly weeping Aamir, but Alex knew the tears were rooted in something deeper. The shame he believed, but the teachers had a choice; they had seen as much with the likes of Gaze and Lintz. Yes, there were bad eggs, but it didn’t mean they didn’t have a choice.

Alex had a feeling that it was this that lay at the root of Aamir’s shame. Through fear or uncertainty or not knowing, Aamir had done the bidding of the Head, being too na?ve or too frightened not to. It made sense—Gaze and Lintz were older, with less to lose. Aamir had gone along with it, perhaps because he had seen no other option. Alex could understand that; he just wished he could hear Aamir admit to it, just once. The raw, honest, vulnerable truth. He could have truly respected his friend for that, because it wasn’t easy to say. Still, Alex believed the hurt in Aamir’s words and the meaning behind them and knew it was enough. His friend had been through enough, and the trust between them had been restored, however tentatively. It wasn’t an easy thing to admit, when a person was wrong, and so he looked to Aamir, realizing that, if this was all he was going to get by way of an apology, then that was fine by him. It was just nice to have the old Aamir back, or as near to him as it would ever be possible to get.

As Aamir regained his composure, Alex brought out the book Elias had given him and began to read. Ellabell shot him a curious look. She wandered over to where he was and sat on the armrest, peering down.

“What are you reading?” she asked.

“A Spellbreaker book,” he replied.

The sight of it seemed to perk up her interest. “Any good?”

“I’m still finding out,” he whispered. She smiled back at him, making him feel close to her as a warm, conspiratorial moment passed between them, reminding him of the last time they had bonded over stories from Spellbreaker history.

“It makes sense now, your sudden interest in battles.” She grinned. “Did I help at all?”

He nodded. “You helped more than you know.”

“I’m glad.” She nudged him lightly, leaning close as she tried to read some pages over Alex’s shoulder.

The moment was disturbed as Helena appeared, looking flustered.

“There you are!” she cried. “I’ve been trying to find you.”

She froze, her pale eyes snapping toward the book in Alex’s hands. Her expression morphed into one of shock as she read the title, Leander Wyvern: The Last Spellbreaker, and leveled her gaze at Alex.

“Where did you get that?” she breathed.

He shrugged. “It was just in the stacks.”

“Don’t play the fool, Alex! I know every book in this library, and that does not belong here,” she hissed. “That is a very rare book—rarer than you know. It has always been kept in my mother’s office, not here. You didn’t simply find that in the stacks, so I’ll ask you again—where did you get it?” Her eyes burned with annoyance.

“Why does it matter?” remarked Alex, genuinely curious to know why it did.

His comment seemed to soften Helena’s angry expression. “I suppose it doesn’t,” she said through gritted teeth, her words lacking conviction. “I was just surprised to see it in your hands, is all.”

Alex frowned, his suspicions piqued that she was no longer on their side. Her startling reaction had been unexpected to say the least, and he wasn’t quite sure what to make of it. Even as she got back to the reason she had been seeking them out, her eyes kept flitting to the cover of the book in Alex’s hands, her expression anxious.

“I come bearing good news,” she explained, a forced brightness in her voice.

“You do?” asked Natalie hopefully. “We have not been having much luck.”