The Secret of Spellshadow Manor (Spellshadow Manor #1)

“It deals in magic that shouldn’t be touched,” Lintz said, his eyes darting toward the closed door and then back to Alex.

The man was nervous about something. Ever since Alex had come in, Lintz had been on edge, scanning the room as if he suspected something was lurking there. For a moment, Alex wondered whether Finder was invisible to the instructors as well. He knew he would be jumpy if Finder made a habit of popping up out of nowhere.

“Look,” said Lintz, leaning back in his chair and rummaging under his desk to bring out a green bottle of murky liquid. “There are two kinds of magic, okay?”

Alex watched as Lintz poured himself a generous glass of the contents of the bottle, then immediately downed half of it. A thick, tangy scent filled the room, mingling with the smells of leather and cologne.

“I’m not sure I do, sir.”

Lintz finished his glass and poured another, his cheeks turning faintly pink.

“Magic is always gold, right?” he said. “When you summon it in your aura?”

Alex nodded slowly. When he thought of magic, he pictured a gold light.

“Incorrect,” Lintz said, smirking as he tapped one heavy finger on the tabletop. “Normal magic uses your vim, boy. Your fighting spirit! It’s a healthy, natural art. But there is another force: life magic.” His hands folded together on the table in front of him.

“Sir?”

“There are two wells of power in a person,” Lintz said. “One comes from your essence, and we call this magic. Life magic, on the other hand, comes from your soul itself. To tap into it, even once, can cause irreparable damage to a person’s very existence—but it will give a wielder unimaginable power.”

Alex paused as he took in the information. “What does this have to do with necromancy, sir?”

Professor Lintz’s cheeks grew pinker still, his eyes darting away as he took another sip from his glass. “I shouldn’t say,” he muttered.

“Very well, sir. I’m sure I can find it out for myself,” Alex countered.

Lintz waved his hands, his eyes widening. “No, no, there’s no need for that. I’ll explain, just…promise me that you’ll leave this dangerous business behind you once I have?”

Alex nodded emphatically.

“I am only curious, sir.”

“Necromancy is wrong on two levels,” Lintz said, his voice dropping to a whisper. “The first is that it taps into a school of magic which is devoted to ripping the magical essence out of another person. The second is that it involves the removal of a person’s life magic.” He shook his head. “The outside world, it has these notions that necromancy is something you do to a corpse, but it’s not like that. You kill your target, and then their ghost—the remnant of their life magic—becomes your thrall, your slave, bound to your will.”

Alex took that in. He thought again of the little plinth in the catacombs, where only the Head was allowed, and the unnatural extra eye carved into the skull that lay upon it. He swallowed.

Lintz, seemingly of the opinion that Alex was disturbed by the magic itself, nodded. “Grotesque, is it not?” he said.

Alex tried to organize his racing thoughts. “So when you say necromancy is the cousin of anima,” he said, “do you mean that you steal a person’s life magic, then use that essence to form a homunculus?”

Lintz blinked. “You…are marvelously well-informed,” he said, eyes narrowing.

Too far, a little voice in Alex’s mind cautioned. “Just something I overhead,” he said quickly. He glanced at the clock on the wall, then pretended to be surprised.

“Is it already three?” he said. “I told someone I would meet them.”

Lintz’s eyes remained narrowed, but he only took another sip of his drink before folding his hands over his large belly. “Be on your way, then. And leave this necromancy nonsense alone.”

“Yes, sir. Of course.”

Alex rose from his seat, but hadn’t gone two steps before Lintz called after him.

“Webber.”

Alex turned back, a politely inquisitive expression on his face.

“Sir?”

For a moment, Lintz seemed unsure of himself. He chewed at his lip, one eyebrow twitching. Then he spoke.

“Do not speak to Professor Derhin of this.”

Alex blinked. He had been meaning to talk to Derhin the next day. “Why not, sir?”

Again, it took a moment for Lintz to reply. “It’s not that he’s a bad man,” he said carefully. “He’s a good man. Great, even. I am happy to call him a friend, it’s just…” He trailed off, his words jumbling together.

The sky outside flickered, and then turned suddenly gray. Rain began to slash the window, filling the air with a hard pattering sound.

“He has had to do things to get where he is,” Lintz said, and there was a strange look on his face. Alex noticed the way his lips tightened, the way the veins on his neck seemed to bulge. Before he could speak, Lintz continued. “Things that, frankly, I wish he hadn’t done. He did them for me, some of the time, but all the same, I…well. Take me at my word and do not speak to him of this. Nothing good will come of it.”

Alex licked his lips, nodded once, then turned away and stepped out into the hallway beyond. Students walked along it, some laughing with their friends, some with their noses in books. Alex recognized the strange expression on Lintz’s face. It had been similar to Aamir’s.

Fear.



Alex was sitting in the library, watching the rain sweeping the grounds, when Natalie finally found him. She sat down opposite him, and it wasn’t until he looked up that he noticed the sleek gleam of her hair, her darkly lined eyelids, and the vivacious shine of her cheeks.

“What…?” he began, staring at her. She looked like she was made of plastic, or porcelain. More like a doll than a person. It was unsettling. “What happened to you?”

She burst into angry tears, covering her face.

“Esmerelda tried to teach me beauty magic,” she wailed. “Don’t look at me! It is not my face!”