The Secret of Spellshadow Manor (Spellshadow Manor #1)

Alex smiled. “Seems like you two are having fun on your own.”


Natalie spread her arms wide with a proud grin. “Aamir is having fun getting beaten.”

Aamir rubbed at his brow. “You still haven’t even managed to destroy the bottle once,” he said.

True to the older student’s word, a new bottle of wine had been set out, and now it stood at the center of the floor surrounded by burns and cuts of dirt. Natalie seemed unperturbed by her failure to achieve their real objective, however.

“No, but now I can grab your lightning out of the air!” she said, miming a grabbing motion toward Aamir, who sidestepped with a roll of his eyes. Natalie paused, then doubled over coughing.

Aamir turned to Alex.

“The girl should not continue,” he said. “She is not well, and I would not feel good pressing her any further.”

Natalie made a noise of protest, a fiery aura bursting into life around her shoulders, but Alex nodded.

“Did she tell you about her condition?”

Aamir inclined his head. “About the curse? Yes. Horrible business.” He looked over at where Natalie was now standing with her arms folded, indignation all over her face. “I was also cursed in my first year,” he went on. “Took about four months to fade away. It is a nasty affair.”

Alex gaped. “You were cursed too?”

Aamir raised an eyebrow at Alex’s surprise, then shrugged as if being cursed for four months wasn’t a big deal. “I am told that I pushed myself too hard. Personally, I suspect that someone did not like me performing at the level that I was. I have kept my progress to myself since then.”

Alex stood in stunned silence. The pieces were starting to fall into place. He walked over to the bottle, lifting it and carrying it back over to the rack. Slotting it in, he ended the challenge between Aamir and Natalie.

“I’m ready when you are,” he said, hoping this was true.

His efforts the previous day had been lackluster at best. He had learned how to reach into Aamir’s magic and divert it, but the art was inaccurate, and the fact of the matter was that reaching into a fire still hurt, even if it only hurt his hands.

Natalie stalked over to a corner and sat down against one wall as Aamir took his position opposite Alex. As was usual, he took his time building up his power, his fingertips flickering with budding flames. He closed his eyes, drawing in a deep, calming breath.

Alex felt a surge of annoyance. He knew the other boy was taking his time to be kind, to give Alex a moment to prepare himself. Part of him appreciated it, but another part, the part that he was ashamed to admit had been frustrated by magical failure after endless magical failure for months now, hated being condescended to. Aamir assumed he would win and Alex would lose, and what was worse, he was probably right.

Alex planted his feet in a wide stance, staring at Aamir, his jaw set.

Then Aamir’s palm came whipping out, and with it came the fire. In his irritation, however, Alex was too focused on Aamir to watch the flames spearing toward him. Moving on instinct, he dodged to one side, using Aamir’s outstretched hand as a reference for where the flames would go. He saw the boy’s hand flatten, then make a small movement to one side.

On an impulse, Alex stepped forward, and felt a light chill as the flames coursed behind him. Drawing an excited breath, he continued to watch Aamir’s hand, trying to read it. He ducked the next waft of fire, sidestepped another, and then bounded forward toward the older boy.

Aamir blinked in surprise, and with finality he brought his other hand around, a second bloom of fire flowing into existence. Alex hesitated, his eyes darting between Aamir’s hands, trying to follow both movements at once.

Cold smashed into him from both sides as his head tried to dive forward and his body tried to pull back. He spun, falling to his knees amid a shower of icy dust. He coughed, spitting up snow as he cursed.

“That was…better,” Aamir said, his voice soft with surprise. “What did you do?”

Alex struggled to his feet, shaking himself free of his sudden, chill-induced tiredness.

“Just trying something new,” he said. It wouldn’t do to give away his meager strategy, would it? Dodging attacks wasn’t the most impressive thing, but it would be useful in an actual battle.

For the next half hour, Alex practiced watching Aamir’s hands, and before long he could identify several different spells and command signs. Thankfully, he already knew a number of them from when he had been helping Natalie with her pyromancy, but now he learned others. The swift, jabbing fingers of lightning. The firm swipes of water, and the rooted, swaying motions of anima. For the first time, he saw sweat on Aamir’s face as he attempted to strike Alex, who bobbed and tumbled between the bursts of magic.

When Alex grew exhausted, he taught Aamir and Natalie what he had learned, having each demonstrate a spell so the other could follow it. While neither of them took to the art as naturally as Alex, it wasn’t long before their duels over the little bottle of wine took on a more delicate, dance-like approach. They stood, trying to keep one eye on each other and one eye on the bottle, Aamir dancing his magic away from Natalie’s gasping motions, parrying her blows, then making desperate assaults. Alex, seated against the wall, thought it looked rather beautiful.

Tuning out the rush of fire, Alex stared down at his hands. They were shaking, red with frost, and he noted with consternation that his left hand was actually bleeding where the skin had dried and split. He sucked at the wound, thinking.