The Chain (The Secret of Spellshadow Manor #3)(34)

Listening more closely, he could make out some of what they were discussing, even though their voices were kept low. As far as he could tell, they were talking about the fight at Spellshadow and what had happened there. Alypia did not seem pleased by the outcome.

“Are you telling me you allowed your school to be overrun by a bunch of students?” she scoffed. “How could you let that happen? It’s ridiculous—I could put my florist in charge of your school, and she’d run it better than you ever could. Every time I think you are about to prove yourself worthy, you go and do something stupid like this!” she barked as the Head shifted awkwardly. “I thought your little peculiarities were supposed to make you stronger, not weaker.”

“It was out of my control, Alypia. I didn’t have a choice after they managed to get their hands on Malachi. So I hardly think that is fair!” remarked the Head angrily, though Alypia didn’t seem bothered by his sudden rage.

She brushed him off like an annoying bee. “You were an idiot to put your faith in that suck-up. He would have betrayed you the first chance he got, had he not been all see-through—don’t think he wouldn’t! You don’t know the Greys like I know them. They’re all snakes,” she declared. “You’re just going to have to find a suitable replacement. Pick someone and do to them what you did to Malachi Grey. That’s if you can still remember how to do necromancy?” She raised her eyebrow, mocking him.

“And what if they can’t do the job?” asked the Head sullenly. “I tried that with the new teacher—the one who escaped—but he couldn’t do it; he couldn’t seek out new recruits in the same way Malachi could. That’s how this all happened! Professor Nagi couldn’t manage it, so I had to go out there and find students myself. None of this would have been able to happen if I had been at the manor, but I wasn’t—it really was out of my control,” he insisted.

Alypia seemed bored. “And how is this any of my business? If you can’t run your school, that has nothing to do with me.”

“You know very well why it is your business, Alypia, so don’t try and play the fool,” he growled, his voice turning menacing. “Everyone knows that magic is dwindling in the nobles—without me and my school, you would soon struggle.”

What did that mean? Alex wondered. Whatever it was, it had gotten Alypia’s attention. Suddenly, she seemed more interested in what the Head had to say.

“Be that as it may, I still don’t see why you have come to me. I told you, I don’t know where your escapees are. Until today, all I knew was there had been a disturbance at the portal. How was I to know you were in the throes of an uprising?” She shrugged. “Besides, my scouts didn’t find anything when they went to check the portal, so who knows where they are by now.”

Alex tensed at the mention of escapees, though he could feel the corners of his lips curving into a wry smile at the irony of it. If only the Head knew just how close he was.

“I didn’t come to ask about the escapees—well, not entirely,” the Head said. “I was wondering if I might borrow a student to turn into the new Finder instead.”

Alypia looked horrified. “No—absolutely not! I won’t spare another drop of noble blood on necromancy. It has to be one of yours.”

The Head sighed. “Might I borrow some of the essence from the ceremony then, at the very least?”

“I’m afraid not, little brother. You said so yourself: with things the way they are, we at Stillwater need to hold onto what we have, while we have it. If you’re short, you will have to start using your reserves—I know you have plenty,” she stated. “In the meantime, I will ask the others if they have any they can spare, though I’m sure you’re likely to get the same answer from them.”

The conversation seemed to concern Alypia, especially the part about the dwindling magic, but something else entirely concerned Alex. He wasn’t sure if he had misheard, but he was certain Alypia had just called the Head “little brother.”

“Thank you,” the Head muttered.

“Honestly, what would you do without your big sister?” Alypia smirked.

Alex definitely hadn’t misheard that time. His stomach sank.

The resemblance was more believable, seeing them side by side, though time and looks had been far kinder to the beautiful Princess Alypia.

‘Princess’ Alypia? Alex paused in horrified thought. What did that mean about the Head? Was he magical royalty too? How could he be related to Alypia? Alex couldn’t quite get his head around it. True, she had called him “little brother,” but it didn’t add up. The wrench in the works was Alex’s strong, almost certain understanding that the Head was half-mage, half-Spellbreaker, an improbable hybrid of the two, so how could he be related to the pure mage royalty of Princess Alypia? Was the Head a mutant, Alex wondered, remembering when he had thought himself to be one. Or was it simpler than that—was the Head the result of a forbidden affair between a mage and a Spellbreaker, making him a half-sibling, perhaps, of Alypia? There were so many possibilities.

It made Alex think back to the portraits hanging on the walls in the Spellshadow ballroom, but there hadn’t been one of the Head alongside them. Slowly, he counted them in his mind. There had been eight portraits on the wall, but there were supposed to be nine havens—or had been, once upon a time. Did that mean Spellshadow was the ninth haven and the Head the ninth royal, whose portrait should have been up there? It made a lot of sense to Alex that a hybrid would end up the black sheep of the family, especially a royal one. The figures in the portraits had all seemed fairly regal, with their crowns and tiaras twisting through the same white hair the two siblings shared. If the havens were manned by magical royals, Alex mused, it would explain why their portraits had been up in the school ballroom in the first place.