The Breaker (The Secret of Spellshadow Manor #2)(71)

“I am your friend. Aamir, it is me. I have been with you from the beginning, through thick and thin in this place. You have to listen to me. You have to know it is me,” begged Jari, his voice heartbreaking to hear. “Remember my first night, when I was terrified and had been chucked into the room by Siren Mave? I couldn’t stop crying, do you remember? Remember me, Aamir. Remember all the times we have shared together, as the closest of friends,” he whispered, reaching his hand up as if he were about to test the barrier again. He held it there, frozen, instead.

Aamir smashed against the shield, bouncing back. He roared up close to the very edge of the barrier, screaming in Jari’s face. Alex saw Jari flinch, but the younger boy was not deterred.

“Please, Aamir. I’d still be a shivering wreck if it hadn’t been for you,” he whispered.

Alex listened as Jari recounted colorful tales of laughter and mischief from before Alex had arrived. A prank gone awry, leading to Renmark emerging from the teachers’ quarters in nothing but his underwear. Races with clockwork beetles along the wooden benches in the mechanics lab. Jumping from the stacks of the library for the first time and seeing who could land the farthest. Aamir always helping Jari out of a situation, like his futile attempt at wooing Ellabell. With each story, Jari’s throat tightened, the emotion evident in his voice.

But none of the stories seemed to be getting through to Aamir, who thrashed wildly against the shield. Alex could feel the ripples coming from it, but didn’t dare add another layer of anti-magic to the barrier until the mob had dispersed. Who knew what they would do to him if they discovered his secret? They were already hungry for a lynching.

“I know you’re in there, Aamir,” Jari murmured earnestly, his eyes squeezed tightly shut. “It’s not you speaking. It’s that golden line playing tricks with your mind. It’s not you—it’s the Head controlling you.”

Alex frowned at Jari’s whispered words, and a thought rushed into his head. He turned to the gathered students.

“It’s not Aamir speaking,” Alex repeated. “It’s the golden line they put on his wrist, controlling him. You know, like the ones they put where we’re not supposed to go?”

The mob nodded uncertainly. Natalie looked at Alex and tentatively lowered her shield, the relief clear on her face as the angry tension in the room dissipated and morphed into an atmosphere of collective curiosity.

“Well, they can use them on us, too. They used one on Aamir. They put it on his wrist and made him do as they pleased,” Alex said, his voice rising. He had to make his argument convincing enough to rile them up against the Head instead of the Head’s innocent avatar.

Alex still didn’t know how much control the golden line had over Aamir, but he guessed the Head must be using magic through the golden band to distort Aamir’s emotions. It made Alex uneasy, wondering what else the Head knew through the golden band.

“The Head may know what has gone on here,” declared Alex, his voice rich with gravitas as he stood before the crowd of murmuring students. They quieted at his words, and he continued. “Through the golden line, the Head will know that Aamir has been apprehended, and now we’re running out of time. The Head will return to regain control of the manor. We must make sure we’re ready for when that happens.”

A murmur of worried surprise rippled through the mob, their gazes turning from Aamir to Alex, waiting for him to speak again. Alex wasn’t sure if what he said about the golden line was true, but he had an inkling it might be.

“We must prepare ourselves for the return of the Head, because he will be coming,” Alex went on, feeling their eyes on him, watching him intently. “You can count on that. We must be ready if we are to overcome him. This is our opportunity. This is what we have been waiting for. This moment may be our only chance to break free of this place.” His voice was thick with emotion as he thought of his mother and the offer he had been given to see her again. “Think of your families, out there beyond the horizon. Think of those people you were taken from, against your will. Think of them, left to wonder what happened to you. This is your chance to go home.”

The mob’s voice rose in a rush of agreement, the glitter of tears prickling in the eyes of many gathered there.

“Think of your mothers’ tears and the empty caskets that bear your names, on headstones, in cemeteries miles from here. They don’t know what happened to any of us,” Alex said, his eyes burning with a bright fury. “Imagine the joy on their faces when they see us again, after so long—all that heartbreak forgotten in an instant, to see our faces again. This might be the only chance we ever have. We must prepare for a great battle ahead—we must be ready for his return.”

Alex felt the shift in the mood of the room as the mob’s anger diverted wholly toward the Head and the battle that lay ahead.

“We’ll lock Aamir away,” Alex stated, gesturing to Jari and Natalie. “The rest of you should gather in smaller groups and practice sparring, all hours of the day, as much as you can, until I make a call-to-arms. I will rally you when the time is right, and, until then, you must prepare. Ransack the library, find all the spells you can to help in the battle to come. Try spells you never dared. Go to the mechanics lab and build bombs and traps and set them at every corner.” He leveled his gaze with several of the older students. “You must rally the younger students. Spread the message and take charge of the groups. If any student is too scared to fight, do not force them—they are the ones who will need our protection in battle. If they do not wish to fight, we must not make them.”