The Secret of Spellshadow Manor (Spellshadow Manor #1)

“It is all right,” said Aamir a little breathlessly, looking her up and down. “Okay. We will all train together. But I would rather not spar with someone so ill.”


Natalie paused, then walked over to the ancient wine rack that still covered one wall, pulling a dusty bottle free and tossing it into the center of the room, where it landed in the dust with a dull clunk. Alex stepped away from it, slumping against the wall and wincing from his icy burns.

“Whoever destroys it wins,” Natalie said, pointing at the bottle. “Is this acceptable?”

Aamir rolled his eyes. “We both use fire. How are we supposed to know who hit it?”

Natalie opened her mouth, then paused, her brow creasing.

“Aamir,” Alex called from his spot against the wall, “you’re supposed to be training. Get creative!”

Aamir glared at Alex, then sighed. The fires around him flickered, then slowly shifted to a shade of deepest blue. Natalie hummed appreciatively.

“You must teach me that one,” she said.

“You must teach me that trick with the mouse.”

Natalie’s eyes brightened. “Did you like him? Alex says he was—”

Aamir acted without announcing himself, jabbing two fingers toward the bottle on the ground. Blue fire tore through the air, and for an instant Alex braced himself for the sound of shattering glass.

Swiftly, Natalie drew in her breath and extended one hand toward not the bottle, but Aamir’s fire. It shuddered, grew orange, and halted just short of bottle. Then, jerkily, it began flowing to Natalie, and pooled into a ball over her hand. She smiled at Aamir, whose eyes had gone wide.

“To hell with the rat,” Aamir said. “Teach me how you did that.”

Natalie gave him an innocent look, then tossed the ball of flames over her shoulder, where it burst upon the floor.

“Break the bottle,” she said, her tone teasing, “and I will consider it.”



The two quieted as they fell into the competition. While Natalie was able to move Aamir’s magic against his will, she lacked much force of her own, and her own magical attempts to break the bottle were quickly slapped aside by Aamir’s. Alex watched as the blue flames tore at the orange, a shining, shifting mass of color and heat.

It took Alex what he considered an embarrassingly long time to figure out what was happening. He watched as Aamir’s blue fire turned orange and spilled away from the bottle, and Professor Lintz’s words filled his mind.

Necromancy is wrong on two levels, he had said. The first is that it taps on a school of magic which is devoted to ripping the essence out of another person.

Alex watched as sweat glistened on Natalie’s brow and she shoved her hands through the air with rough motions, and Aamir’s magic abruptly became hers. He smiled.

With an irritated huff, Aamir changed tactic. He drew his arms wide, then slammed his palms together. A bolt of lightning erupted from thin air just over his left shoulder, tearing the bottle in half before anyone else could so much as blink. There was a spray of red as glass and ancient wine showered the air, and Natalie’s eyes twinkled with amusement.

“Tell me how you’re doing it,” Aamir said, breathing hard.

Natalie grinned through her sweat and fatigue.

“That was my win, no?” she said.

Aamir glared.

Over where he sat, Alex’s hand formed the same rough, claw-like position he had seen Natalie using. She was doing something other than using magic. She was reaching into someone else’s magic and manipulating it. He knew that he had no magical potential himself, but Alex wondered briefly if his Spellbreaker blood was capable of something similar. He thought back to the class earlier that day. He had accidentally used his powers to snuff out Natalie’s magic, even though it had offered no threat to him. He had acted not on instinct, but with purpose.

“I’d like another turn,” he said abruptly.

Aamir looked skeptically over at him from where he had been badgering Natalie.

“You do not look ready,” he said.

Alex shook himself off, trying to ease the tension from his sore limbs as he got to his feet and moved to the center of the room.

“I have something I want to try,” he said.

Aamir sighed, tilting his head toward Natalie. “Can you talk any sense into him?”

Natalie laughed. “Not usually. But I would let him try again.”

With a dark look, Aamir turned back toward Alex.

“You’re both crazy,” he said. “And I’m not responsible for what happens.”

“Of course,” Alex said, taking a wide stance.

Aamir moved, and by now Alex could read the attack fairly well. The way the young man’s hands moved, his fingertips flickering, meant fire was coming. The way his palm jutted out meant it would be a spear.

This time, however, Alex made no effort to dodge. He half closed his eyes, letting raw instinct take control as he stepped toward the attack, one hand sliding forward toward the other boy’s magic. He felt the cold as his hand entered the flames, but he shut his mind to that. He let his fingers play in the frigid currents of magic, feeling them out, until suddenly something new slipped into him.

Twisting at the center of the flames, it was quiet, calculating, full of knowledge and energy, and Alex knew instinctively that this was Aamir. His magic, his soul, his very being. Alex twisted his hand, and gently pressed the energy to one side, diverting it away from him.

It almost worked. For all his calm, Alex’s technique was sloppy; he watched in dismay as the center of the spear of flames shattered in a white explosion of icy dust while the front, like an arrow cut mid-flight, hooked and smashed into his chest. He found himself once again on the ground, gasping, covered in snow, his breath ripping at his throat.

Aamir walked up, thrusting out a hand.

“You all right?”

Alex seized Aamir’s hand, nodding, and Aamir pulled him upright.

“You done yet?” Aamir asked.

Alex shook his head.

“Only getting started.”





Chapter 32