The Breaker (The Secret of Spellshadow Manor #2)(67)

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” asked the cloaked man in the middle of the room, standing with his back to Alex.

“What is this place?” Alex said nervously.

“It used to be the grand ballroom,” explained Professor Escher, whose voice oozed across the room like molasses, making Alex’s skin crawl. “Come, sit,” he instructed with an elegant flourish of his arm.

Alex paused, a million hurried thoughts racing through his mind as the distance between himself and Professor Escher seemed to stretch impossibly ahead of him. Foolishly, he wondered if he had time to run for it—if there was time for him to get out onto the front lawn and have a crack at anti-magical travel or to push all of his anti-magic into the gate and hope for the best. He knew it was ridiculous, but he was beginning to feel desperate.

“I wouldn’t try running if I were you,” purred Escher in a soft, amused tone that seemed vaguely threatening despite its quietness.

“I wasn’t going to,” lied Alex.

“Good. Now come and sit.”

Alex walked toward the table and chairs and sat down in the one closest. Professor Escher still had not turned, and the sight of the still, black shape was an unnerving one. Carefully, Alex placed his hands beneath the table and began to conjure the familiar prickles of ice against the skin of his fingers, forming the beginnings of some anti-magic, just in case.

“I know what you are, Alex Webber,” whispered Escher suddenly, his back still to Alex.

Alex could barely move as fear held him to the chair. “I don’t know what you mean,” he said.

Escher chuckled coldly. “Oh, I think you do. You are a Spellbreaker, Alex Webber. One of a kind, these days,” he said slowly, a hint of amusement in his silky voice.

Alex was speechless, stunned into silence. His heart hammered in his chest as he let the words wash over him in uneasy understanding of what had just been said. The Deputy Head knew his secret. He was doomed; he was certain of it. It was a Mage’s destiny to dispose of Spellbreakers—Malachi Grey had said as much. How would they dispose of him? Alex wasn’t sure he wanted to know.

“How—” he began, but Escher cut him off swiftly.

“How do I know? That is not important. What is important is what happens next,” he said, turning to face Alex for the first time. Glittering eyes moved menacingly beneath the eyeholes of his mask, and Alex could hear the faint hint of a grin as he spoke. “I must assure you, Alex, that I do not intend to harm you,” he added with a twist of his wrist.

“What?” whispered Alex, dumbfounded by what was happening.

“I do not intend to harm you, nor do I intend to tell anyone what you are. Your secret, I suppose, is safe with me. I do not wish to get you into any more trouble than you are already in,” hissed Escher, his voice momentarily menacing.

“What kind of trouble am I in?” asked Alex, flinching as the glittering eyes bore down on him through the white porcelain of the mask.

“A great deal of trouble… perhaps,” he said, lighting a flicker of hope within Alex. “It all depends on you, really. You are the master of your own destiny. Here’s the deal: I will not say anything or harm you in any way, under one proviso,” he added casually, extending his gloved index finger to illuminate his point.

Alex waited for the fine print.

“You are a disruption, Alex. It is my duty to remove disruptive students, but my plans for you are somewhat different. I have an offer for you. In exchange for keeping your secret, you must leave the manor.” The words sat heavily in the air between teacher and student as Alex let them sink in.

“Leave?” asked Alex, confused.

“Yes, leave. This is my offer. I will take you back into the real world—only you—and restore you to your mother and your old life,” proposed Escher quietly, a note of surprising gentleness in his voice. It was unnerving to Alex, how Escher could shift between emotions so swiftly, surprising him at every turn, but hearing Escher mention his mother with such softness was almost more than he could bear.

Memories and feelings rushed vividly into Alex’s mind as he thought of his ailing mother, out there beyond the twinkling spires of the horizon, waiting for him. He pictured her at breakfast, the morning Natalie had arrived at their house, beaming over freshly made pancakes and ripe red strawberries. She had been so pleased to see him socializing with someone his own age, even if she had had to drag them across an ocean. It broke his heart to think of her in that moment, so happy and brimming with life. He knew he would give anything to see her again, but that same guilt toward leaving everyone behind twisted at his insides—the conscience that had kept him within the manor walls thus far. It was an unfair balance that tipped one way and then the other with each passing moment.

His feelings toward the other students were marred a little by the furtive behavior of his so-called friends, but still he knew in his heart that their secret-keeping was not enough reason for him to leave everyone else to their fates. He had kept his own secrets from them, hadn’t he?

“That’s all I have to do?” asked Alex quietly.

“That is all, Alex. You must leave, this moment, alone,” Escher repeated, but with no hint of haste in his words.

Closing his eyes, Alex thought about his options. He tried to picture his mother, but the image of her remained blurry in his head, the edges undefined and grainy. Part of him wondered if he might just slip out for a moment, just to leave a note for her, to let her know that he was okay and that he hadn’t abandoned her. Even if it was just to see her for a while, to make sure the grief hadn’t made her worse. Just to make sure she was alive; that was all he wanted. Plans and schemes raced through his mind as he felt his time slipping away like sand through his fingers. Ideas of how he might deliver his message and return to Spellshadow Manor flitted half-formed through his mind, and yet Escher’s offer was clear—this trip was a one-way ticket. A tempting one.