The Secret of Spellshadow Manor (Spellshadow Manor #1)

Aamir shot him a look, but nodded. “It probably had a lot to do with both of us hitting you at the same time. If we were to limit your exposure to a single source of magic, I think you would find it much milder.”


Alex was silent for a long time. All his efforts to engage his Spellbreaker powers thus far had resulted in him curled up on the floor covered in painful ice burns; he could still feel them, hot and raw under his clothes. On the other hand, he was the only person with this power. If he could hone it, he might be able to make something of it, a weapon the Head wouldn’t see coming.

“I can even try to—” Aamir began.

“I’ll do it.”

Aamir stopped.

“Really?”

Alex nodded. He could feel the cold rippling in his bones. His blood, he knew now. Holding the manor at bay. He didn’t need to wonder what would happen if he let himself grow weak.



Aamir took Alex down to the cellar, then stood him at one end of the room.

“So,” said Alex, “how are we doing this?”

Aamir looked around, seeming confused.

“It does seem strange,” he said. “I mean, I would say we just fight, but you can’t really fight back, can you?”

Alex let out an affronted noise. “I could punch you, if that would help.”

Heat began to ripple the air around Aamir, and the same mantle of flames that Alex had seen the previous night surged up around the boy’s arms and legs, spilling down his chest. His eyes glazed over with sparks.

“You think you can punch me?” Aamir said, amused.

Alex raised his fists like a Hollywood boxer, trying to make himself sound more confident than he felt.

“I think I can try.”

Aamir stepped lightly from foot to foot, then nodded.

“I suppose so,” he said, settling into a combative stance. “I’m ready when you are.”

“Bring it,” Alex grinned.

None of the action movies he had watched could have prepared Alex for the speed with which Aamir moved. Alex was lean and tall, and liked to think he was fairly fast on his feet, but when the other boy threw his first line of flames, Alex’s feet locked up. He tried to get them to move, but all he could do was watch, petrified, until the bolt of fire connected squarely with his chest. He staggered back a step, his breath erupting from him in a burst of ice and frost as he gasped, falling to one knee.

Aamir was by his side in an instant. “This was a terrible idea. I’m sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking.”

Alex staggered to his feet, shaking his head. “Again,” he said.

Aamir’s eyes widened. “No, we should—”

“Aamir.”

The two locked eyes, and Alex tried to put the full force of his passion, his determination to help, to learn, into that stare. “Again,” he said.

Slowly, Aamir nodded.



The next hour was a whirl of pain for Alex as his body slowly adjusted to the nearly unpredictable movements of Aamir’s flames, and the ensuing waves of cold that consumed him as they broke against his body. It took him three tries to successfully sidestep Aamir’s first blow, and when he did, his euphoria was short-lived as the lance of flame snapped sideways, smashing into his side.

Aamir, in his stoic way, offered no advice. He attacked, his eyes narrowed with concentration as he shot assault after assault at Alex. Before long, the ground was muddy from the ice sloughing off of Alex’s body, and the air was hot with Aamir’s magic. The two stood, Aamir sweating, Alex shivering.

Aamir jabbed with his fist, sending a bolt of crimson flames toward Alex, who sidestepped, then ducked as it twisted in midair at a flick of Aamir’s fingers. Alex kept an eye on the flames, moving back a step as the fire tore into the dirt in front of him.

Before he could even feel proud, an impact from behind sent Alex staggering forward onto the ground, a wave of frost splashing out over his back. He let out a moan as the mud slapped against his face, his body aching. After a moment, Aamir’s arm wrapped around his shoulders, lifting him up.

“That’s enough for today,” he said.

“I can keep going,” Alex tried to say, but Aamir shook his head.

“There’s valor in training,” he said. “There is none in burning yourself out and groveling in the mud. We’ll try again tomorrow, if you’re feeling up to it.”

Alex, though reluctant, admitted he saw his point.

Aamir set about cleaning the grime from their clothes and tending to the icy burns on Alex’s skin.

“Anti-magic seems far less useful than I would have expected,” Aamir said absentmindedly. “You’re still getting pretty hurt.”

“I’m not getting pretty dead, though.”

Aamir gave Alex a wry look, one eyebrow raised.

“I suppose.”





Chapter 30





After an hour of fighting in the cellar, Professor Derhin’s lesson that afternoon seemed unspeakably dull. Alex watched as the man droned on about Shanna’s Twofold Focusing, all the while playing out the fights over and over in his head, analyzing every movement. He wondered how he was supposed to beat someone who could summon fire out of thin air and direct it with their hands. If only there were anti-magical lessons.

Alex moved through the motions of twofold focusing, feeling the warm embrace of Natalie’s magic fluttering around him.

There had to be a way to overcome Aamir’s advantages. After all, Spellbreakers were notorious for being wizard-killers; it simply didn’t make sense that he would barely be able to fight a student who wasn’t even fully trained. Perhaps his blood was simply weak, diluted from years of disuse. Or perhaps—

“Webber.”

He looked up to see Derhin watching him.

“Sir?”

“Your aura.”

Alex looked down, and saw that the magic around him had vanished. He felt the telltale chill on his skin, and almost heaved a sigh of relief when he saw that there wasn’t any visible frost on him. He looked back at Natalie, who was giving him a strange look.

“Sorry,” Alex said. “Lost in thought.”

On cue, Natalie’s magic folded around him again, and Derhin nodded in approval.

“Just remember,” he said. “It won’t do to lose focus. You need to learn to control your energy, not let it wander.”