The Breaker (The Secret of Spellshadow Manor #2)(77)

Gathering himself, Alex walked through the gathered group who stood out on the front lawn, making sure everyone was okay. A few of them had burns lacerating their backs and shoulders, but nothing a bit of salve couldn’t fix. Renmark had clearly been saving his more vicious spells for more formidable enemies.

“What happened in there?” asked Jun Asano, his jet-black eyes peering over Alex’s shoulder with barely suppressed anxiety.

“A fight,” said Alex simply. “The first of many, I would imagine,” he added grimly.

Jun nodded. “We are ready.”

The small, lanky boy standing in Jun’s shadow suddenly went pale, his eyes wide, his mouth opening and closing like that of a beached fish. His terrified gaze was looking at something over Alex’s shoulder.

The hairs on Alex’s arms prickled. He didn’t need to turn around to see who it was the boy was staring so fearfully at—he could feel the creeping cold of the Head’s skeletal form, the otherworldly eyes burning into the back of his head, willing him to turn and show the same fear found on the other boy’s face. Alex would not give the Head that satisfaction.

With agonizing slowness, he turned to the Head.

Finally, he had returned.

Thoughts raced through Alex’s mind as he faced the Head, who was standing by the gate, still with some distance between them, but close enough to instill fear. Alex wondered where he had been and what had finally brought him back to stand against the rallied students. Had someone told him? He knew Aamir was still strung up in the manacle chamber, so it couldn’t have been him. Had the band finally sent out a beacon of help to him? Was he taunting them, letting them believe they had the higher ground only to crush them? Alex wouldn’t put it past him. The Head was an impossibly strong magical entity, and they were an army of half-formed wizards. Perhaps he thought he had nothing to fear from them.

Already, Alex had streams of black and silver shards running between his fingers, ready to use in the battle ahead. His eyes locked with the hooded demon, narrowing in determination as he gathered his strength. On every side of him, he felt the other students move into defensive stances, ready to go on Alex’s command.

Nobody fled and nobody stood down in terror, not even the young man beside Jun, who stepped forward, moving into a position beside Alex. The boy’s face was determined, even though his small hands shook. A sad smile pulled at the edges of Alex’s mouth as he watched the boy, hoping he wouldn’t have to shoulder the responsibility of this young man coming to harm. Alex had understood the risks; he understood that not everyone was going to make it out. But he hoped, despite himself, that the boy would.

Seeing the younger student so stoic spurred Alex on as he stood firmly before the hooded figure. A smirk played on the Head’s pale, unnatural mouth, the rest of him shadowed beneath his robe. Alex remembered his feelings about the mask of Professor Escher, before they knew he was Aamir—a man who hid himself could never be trusted.

The same was infinitely more true of the Head. Whatever the reasons for the Head’s vile ‘graduation’ ceremony, whatever secrets rippled beneath the earth of the manor, Alex knew none of it was excusable. There was no cause great enough for what the Head had done and would continue to do if they did not stop him.

Strength surged through Alex on a wave of adrenaline as he moved his hands slowly upward, the anti-magic swirling icily around his fingertips. He was focused and he was ready. But before he could even lift his palms to perform the strongest anti-magical move he knew, something heavy and ungainly fell at the Head’s shrouded feet.

The metal ball landed on the ground with a thud, rocking gently on the sweeping black train of the Head’s robe. Confusion crossed the Head’s shadowed eyes as he looked down at the object, just in time to get the full force of Lintz’s magical trap in his face as it exploded around him, sending his skeletal form flailing backward as he tried to kick the trap away. It bought the students time and the element of surprise they so desperately needed.

Alex glanced back over his shoulder to see Lintz grinning wildly, looking like a much younger man, standing tall and proud at the top of the manor steps with a mechanical ball in each hand.

“Now!” cried Alex, his head snapping back to the main event.

The handful of students around him—a fraction of their main number, perhaps a quarter—did not need to be told twice. Turning on the Head, they bombarded him with their most elaborate, intricate spells, firing them off in perfect unison, preventing him from edging any closer to the school. Gold shards filled the air in a hot rain of glittering embers, the thunder of clashing magic ricocheting through the ears of all present. Streams of fierce gilded light shot through the miasma of misty glimmers, striking the Head with a peculiar fizzing sound. The sound of his pain hissed above the din of magic exploding and students roaring their war cries, audible enough to give the warriors the courage to persist.

Alex ducked through the fighters, running up to the top steps of the manor, where he stood side by side with Gaze and Lintz. Gaze seemed to have recovered somewhat, as she launched attack after attack in the Head’s direction, hitting her target every time. Her aim was deadly, and her power was more immense than Alex could ever have guessed from such a small, ancient creature. Every spell was one he had never seen, her hands moving with disturbing speed, her eyes burning with ferocious intensity. Lintz, still grinning, lobbed bomb after bomb at the Head, watching in delight as they exploded close by, startling the robed figure each time.