The Secret of Spellshadow Manor (Spellshadow Manor #1)

She gave him a crooked smile.

They traveled down a series of twists and turns, then past doors with little brass numbers that indicated they had entered the girls’ dormitory. As they walked, Ellabell’s brow furrowed. She seemed to grapple with something, looking more and more uncertain until she finally spoke.

“How is she doing? I mean, how is she really doing?” she asked hesitantly.

Alex blinked. “What do you mean?”

“It’s just,” Ellabell said, lines deepening beneath her eyes, “I can tell something’s wrong, but she insists she’s just fine. I chalked it up to a rough adjustment at first, but now…I worry about her. That’s all.”

They passed a line of old paintings of teachers with stern expressions.

“I worry about her too,” Alex said, hoping his secretiveness hadn’t rubbed off on her too much. “I don’t think she’s fine. But are any of us really fine here?”

Ellabell bit her lip. “I guess not,” she said, frowning.

A moment later, they stopped at a door with a brass number twenty-eight affixed to it, and she looked at Alex before knocking.

“Natalie,” she called, “you’ve got a guest. Are you presentable?”

She opened the door a crack, and a muffled groan rolled out into the hallway.

“One minute,” Alex could hear Natalie saying croakily from inside.

Ellabell nodded, then turned to set her back firmly against the door, barring Alex’s way.

“You know,” she said conversationally, “I’m not sure boys are technically allowed into our rooms.”

Alex rolled his eyes. “Well, I promise to behave myself.”

Ellabell gave him a mocking look. “If you say so.”

“All right, I am ready,” came Natalie’s voice again. It was nasal, cracked, and hoarse. Alex winced just hearing it.

“I’m going back to class, then,” Ellabell said. “Don’t get up to any mischief, and don’t touch my things.”

She turned, and with a whirl of her brunette curls, she melted away into the air. Alex stared at the place where she had been standing a moment before. Then he shook his head and tugged open the door to Natalie’s room.

It bore a striking similarity to his own quarters, only these hadn’t been bedecked with Jari’s unbridled enthusiasm. There were a few modest garlands of paper snowflakes hung upon the walls, and a shimmering strand of lights hung along the back wall over the desks. As if in deliberate contrast to the simple furnishings, an acrid scent hung in the air.

Natalie had drawn her sheets up over her nose, her hands clutching the top of the blanket, so that only her eyes peeked out at him as he entered. Even by that slight glimpse, Alex could tell that Natalie’s face was flushed with fever, and her hands were shaking and pale.

“Natalie, you look awful,” he said, dragging a desk chair over beside her bed and sitting down.

“I know,” Natalie croaked dismally.

She lowered the blanket down to her shoulders, and now Alex saw chapped, cracked lips. Natalie sighed.

“I couldn’t go to class,” she said. “Ella wouldn’t let me.”

“I can see why. You’re really sick.” He looked worriedly at her, recalling what Jari had told him about magical people having a hard time getting sick.

Natalie struggled to sit up, her expression indignant. “I’m fine,” she said, grimacing and putting a hand to her forehead.

Alex frowned. “You don’t seem fine.”

Natalie changed the subject. “Did class go okay for you?”

Alex shook his head. “Derhin let me out early to come check on you.”

“That is good,” said Natalie weakly.

Alex stared at her for a time, trying to figure out exactly what her symptoms were.

“How do you feel?”

“Dreadful. Like I am getting every illness I never had.”

Alex licked his lips, glancing toward the door. “Are you getting any better?”

Natalie set her jaw. “I am still coming with you on New Year’s Eve to get the book, if that’s what you are asking,” she muttered.

Their plan to raid the Head’s office was only two days away, and Natalie looked closer to a corpse than a living person. Alex watched as she shook, rolling away from him to face the wall.

“I will get better,” she said, her voice full of determination.

Alex ground his teeth. “This is absurd,” he said. “This is an institute of magic. There should be a nurse here, or some kind of medical expert! It should be simple to get rid of an illness, shouldn’t it?”

Natalie coughed. “Wouldn’t that be nice?” she said. “Ella says we don’t have a nurse. Magical energy is supposed to make someone immune to this kind of thing.”

Alex paused. “Then what could it be?”

Natalie rolled back toward him, her eyes full of frustrated tears. She pointed toward a metal bucket at her bedside, which seemed to be the source of the acidic smell. Alex leapt up to retrieve it, and saw that it was indeed filled with vomit.

She drew in a breath, and Alex watched as magic gathered around her. It looked…wrong, somehow. Her magic was not its normal shade of gold; it had a coppery tint that ran through it like diseased veins. As it surged around her, the little veins burned bright red before flashing angrily. The magic vanished. Natalie turned a sickly shade of green and doubled over the bucket, heaving. Alex sat next to her, holding her hair and rubbing her back.

“There,” he said, setting the bucket aside. “Do you feel any better?”

Natalie lay limply against her pillows with a morose expression. “Not really.” She looked over at him, blinking slowly. “What will we do?”

Alex stared at his friend, his jaw working. “I don’t see that we have much of a choice,” he said.

“Alex,” Natalie said, her eyes frantic, “we can’t just give up. We need to—”

“I’ll go alone.”

The words hung in the air. Natalie stared at him, her lips parted.

“But…” she started, but Alex waved a hand.