The Chain (The Secret of Spellshadow Manor #3)(55)

“Yes, but where are they?” he repeated, with growing frustration.

She turned, meeting him with a stern glare. “They are safe. That is all you need know.”

Turning back around, she strode off down a side corridor until they reached an unassuming wooden door at the very end. Twisting the handle, Siren Mave pushed it open and stepped into an empty room. It was a plain, square chamber with high stone walls and a bare stone ceiling, with no furniture except for a bench that ran along one side. There didn’t seem to be another exit, or any windows either, but Siren Mave seemed to be searching for something against the far wall. Alex frowned, wondering if this was a holding room of some sort.

It quickly became apparent that this was merely a brief stop-off, as Siren Mave held a black doorknob to a section of wall and twisted, revealing another doorway behind it. It reminded him of his first day at Spellshadow, when he had met Elias for the first time, only this seemed less strange to him now. It was almost par for the wizarding course, to see doors and entrances where they shouldn’t be. As she opened the door, she wasted no time in ushering Alex through it, forcing him past the threshold with a firm shove in the back.

The door opened out onto an antechamber, with a set of large, white double doors ahead. They were tall and imposing, and Alex wondered if, somewhere along the line, he had actually died and this was his arrival at the pearly gates. It would make a lot of sense, he mused wryly as he followed Siren Mave, pondering with amusement whether that made her a squat archangel of some kind. A sudden glare from her alarmed him, leaving him wondering if she could hear his thoughts. However, he didn’t have time to think about the strange little woman rooting through his brain, as she knocked on one of the vast doors and shoved him through, before disappearing behind him with a twist of her magical door handle.

The whole journey had left him truly disoriented, and it was only made worse as he stepped into the most beautiful office, which looked more like a greenhouse than a place of work. Above his head, there was a glass ceiling that let in the hazy glow of the daylight, bathing everything in golden sunshine. Exotic, fruit-bearing trees and plants were growing healthily all around the room, which was especially warm, encouraging the lemons and limes and oranges to swell to a tantalizing plumpness. There were olives too, and some fruits Alex didn’t recognize, though everything looked ripe and inviting. The whole office, in and among the foliage, was tastefully decorated in white and chrome, the lines crisp and clean, and there was an impressive white marble desk at the very head of the room, set in front of a large window that looked out upon the lake.

The sight of it made Alex bubble with rage, to note that the Headmistress’s window, too, looked out onto the lake filled with the buried remains of his people. He wondered bitterly what their obsession was with such a gruesome trophy.

Does it make you feel almighty? he thought sourly as he watched the water shimmer beneath the sunlight.

Alypia was sitting behind the desk, her white hair almost glowing in the warm sunlight, like a halo around her beautiful face. With a slender, graceful arm, she gestured for Alex to come and sit too. He walked forward, his hands still manacled, and sat in a large, high-backed chair that was covered in pure white fur from an animal Alex couldn’t identify. In keeping with her murderous theme, he thought as he plonked himself down on the soft upholstery.

Smiling kindly, she held out her hands for his manacled wrists. He obliged, allowing her to take them off with a small key she wore around her neck. The cold, sapping energy of the ivy drained from his body, giving it life again as he rubbed the chafed skin of his wrists.

Looking up, he became speechless for a moment. He had known Alypia to be a truly beautiful woman, but in close quarters she was utterly mesmerizing, stealing the very breath from his lungs. There was an intelligence and grace about her that Alex found hypnotic, and, as much as he wanted to despise her, he found that he couldn’t. One look into her strange eyes and he was rendered awestruck again.

“I am the Crown Princess Alypia, but you may refer to me as Headmistress,” she stated, her voice clear and regal.

“What have you done with my friends?” he asked, regaining his voice. “Are they okay? Tell me where they are!”

She smiled. “May I offer you something to drink, before we get into the nitty-gritty of negotiations?” she suggested, her voice showing light amusement.

Alex frowned, wondering what she meant by “negotiations”, but his thirst got the better of him. “A drink would be great,” he replied evenly, feeling the dryness of his tongue and the rasp of his parched throat.

Nodding primly, Alypia turned to the table beside her and lifted two crystal glasses onto the desk. Slowly, she poured a pale, sparkling liquid from an ornate glass jug, the handle shaped like an ancient Roman goddess, into the two crystal chalices, and pushed one across the marble surface toward him.

Suddenly, he wasn’t so sure he wanted a drink anymore. Watching the bubbles rise, he couldn’t help but feel wary; he knew Alypia was not to be trusted. She could have slipped poison into it or something, without him knowing.

As if sensing his mistrust, Alypia picked up the glass she had poured for herself, from the same jug, and sipped the contents, assuring him of its purity. Tentatively, he lifted his own glass to his lips and drank deep of the sweet liquid. It tasted a bit like the sparkling juice he and his mom always had on New Year’s Eve. Whatever it was, it quenched his thirst in an instant, leaving him free to ask his questions again.