The Chain (The Secret of Spellshadow Manor #3)(44)

Curiously, he wondered if it might be that his father, and his father before him, and his father before him, all the way back to 1908, were the product of a union between a Spellbreaker and a non-magical person? Perhaps that was the loophole to his continued existence; if an ordinary woman had been pregnant with a Spellbreaker child at the time of the final battle, then truly, every living Spellbreaker would have been wiped out on that day of absolute elimination. But there would have been a child, with Spellbreaker potential, yet to be born.

It was food for thought, and the idea made Alex tremble with giddy anticipation, though there was disappointment in the knowledge he could never really have it confirmed. All those who might have been able to corroborate it were dead.

Suddenly, Alex became aware of soft footfalls creeping below. He had been so absorbed in the book that he hadn’t heard them advancing, until now. Crawling cautiously over to the very edge of the walkway, he saw shadowy figures moving across the marble floor of the library, stealthily heading for the stacks. For him, no doubt.

Panic shot through Alex’s body as he stepped back and looked at the books spread out across the table. If he left the books, the creeping guards beneath would undoubtedly suspect a trespasser in their midst. Hurriedly, Alex shoved the tomes back among the shelves, though he made sure to grab the one text he really wanted to keep—the Wyvern biography. But when he looked down at the book beneath his arm, he realized he had made a mistake. He had grabbed The Royal Households instead.

The footsteps below quickened, and Alex cursed under his breath. It was too late to switch out the books. He turned and struggled to climb up to the top of the closest stack, only to feel Leander Wyvern’s notebook slip out of its familiar spot in his back pocket and land with a smack on the marble floor.

Everything went still.

Fraught with dread, Alex sent out a snaking tendril of anti-magic, copying the floating spell he had seen Helena do with Aamir, as he maneuvered the book into his outstretched hand. Pushing it firmly back into his pocket, he scrambled up the rest of the stack, before rolling along the top surface into a crevice in the wall behind it. Swiftly, he sent up another camouflage barrier around himself, just in case any of the assailants decided to peep over the very top shelf. He had just managed to dim the shield to a barely discernible sheet of anti-magic when he heard the creak of the ladder, leading up to the platform he was on. Alex’s heart was pounding, but it was his labored, panicked breathing he was worried about. He was convinced they would be able to hear it, as he sensed the approach of figures below.

They were whispering in low, refined voices, and Alex could hear the scrape and thud of moving furniture as they pushed the table and armchairs to one side, searching for any sign of recent occupation. Alex had pushed his reading selections far back into the stacks, but he couldn’t help but feel a shiver of fear that the lurkers would somehow find the books and, in seeing titles about havens and Spellbreakers, would presume the reader to be an intruder.

The Royal Households book dug into Alex’s side as he waited and tried to hold his breath, his cheeks reddening and his eyes bulging.

The investigators seemed to take forever, rustling pages and shifting objects, making Alex’s pulse race even faster every time they came too close, but eventually he heard the subtle sound of them disbanding. The ladder creaked, signaling their departure, but even after they had gone, he didn’t dare to move; he stayed there, staring up at the ceiling of the library, for what seemed like hours.

Only when enough time had passed did he chance a peek at the walkway below. Scanning the area briefly for any changes, he caught sight of several small objects flashing at the corners of the platform, that had not been there before. Squinting for a better look, he couldn’t work out what they were, but he knew the searchers had placed them there for a reason. A recollection flashed in his mind; they looked a lot like the clockwork traps he had read about in a book Ellabell had recommended to him once. If that’s what they were, thought Alex, he’d be caught the moment he set foot on the ground.

Rolling back into the crevice, he waited, trying to come up with a solution from his hiding place. Suddenly, he remembered the clockwork mouse, still buried in the papery depths of his pockets. He had transferred it from his Spellshadow pants into his Stillwater ones, almost without thinking; he had grown so used to the weight and feel of it that he had almost forgotten it was there.

Retrieving it, he held the delicate, metal creature in his hand, knowing the message he needed it to carry. Without paper, it was going to be difficult, but he was hopeful the mouse would let the others know what to do.

Cupping his hands around the intricate, detailed clockwork, he let his anti-magic flow into the tiny being, feeling the cogs begin to whirr and the metal eyes light up with a silvery glow, as he willed it to find Helena and bring her back to where he was hiding. As he set it down on the wooden shelf-top, he wasn’t sure if it would work, but within seconds the mouse had scurried off. Staring back up at the ceiling, he hoped it would. Otherwise, he would never be leaving this library prison.





Chapter 17





As the sun came up, glowing with hazy warmth through the huge library windows, the world around Alex fizzed with chaos. It seemed the news had traveled fast, and Stillwater had gone on high alert following the suspicion that there was an intruder among their ranks. With dwindling optimism, Alex awaited Helena’s assistance, though he was beginning to wonder if it was ever coming.