The Chain (The Secret of Spellshadow Manor #3)(81)

However, just as he was about to climb down, his eye was caught by the tree-line nearby, where he knew the cottage was. It was strange, but, peering toward it, Alex felt a peculiar sensation at the back of his mind, as if something wasn’t quite right. Although he knew he was really pressed for time now, and Alypia would be straight after him if he was a no-show at his first lesson, compulsion forced him to clamber down the other side of the wall and walk toward the cottage.

As he neared it, he was glad he had listened to his gut instinct. Something was wrong. The place had been disturbed, the ground all churned up outside as if there had been a lot of people scouring the perimeter of the tiny cottage. The most obvious sign of disorder was at the entrance, where the earth was a muddy mess. Stepping cautiously into the interior of the cottage, he saw that the whole place had been ransacked. Everything had been turned over and shoved out of the way, as if somebody had been trying to find something within. Whatever furniture there had been was now a crumpled pile of debris, good for nothing but kindling, and the floorboards had all been torn up to search the foundations beneath.

Alex felt a tingle of trepidation. Somebody had been here, and it looked as if they had been searching for something. It seemed strange that this should have happened so soon after he and Elias had spoken there. It made Alex nervous, wondering if somebody had, perhaps, seen him speaking with his shadowy acquaintance.

Trying to focus on the memory of the night Elias had appeared to him, he recalled the sensation of eyes on him, the strange, unsettling feeling that came with being observed unawares. He had ignored the feeling at the time, but perhaps there had been someone else—someone who had watched Ellabell and followed her, leading them to see the exchange between himself and Elias, or at least Alex speaking into the shadowy darkness. That would have been a mysterious sight to an outside observer. Perhaps a guard had spotted him and passed on the information, thinking there might be something in the cottage worth investigating. It was the only reason Alex could think of.

Still confused, but having run out of time, he reluctantly returned to the school walls. As he walked, he became aware of eyes on him again, prickling the hairs on his arms until they stood on end. Glancing around, he couldn’t see anyone watching him from the windows and spires in his line of sight, but no matter what he did, he could not shake the feeling of being watched.

Hoping it wasn’t Alypia, he climbed the wall and dropped down the other side, moving quickly across the courtyard and under an archway that led toward the study room where he needed to be. He arrived outside it just as Master Demeter did, much to Alex’s relief. The teacher was younger than Alex had expected, around late-twenties, with the same flawless features that were found on all the residents of Stillwater House. He had light brown eyes, curling bronze hair, and an olive complexion, the combination making his heritage difficult to place.

“Excellent—punctuality is next to godliness!” Demeter smiled, mixing up his proverbs in a way that Alex would come to realize was normal practice for this clever, if slightly eccentric, man. “Remember, Alex, a watched clock never boils, so I want no boredom from you—you’ll find the time passes much more swiftly if we take no heed of it. So, let’s hop in and begin,” he encouraged as he unlocked the door to the small study room and ushered Alex inside.

They spent the whole morning in the stuffy study, though it wasn’t exactly uninteresting. Master Demeter proved to be an enthusiastic, animated individual who possessed a wealth of knowledge on Spellbreakers. There was almost a streak of hero worship in the older man whenever he told a particularly good story he liked about a battle or a war in which the Spellbreakers had been fearsome foes. He spoke of Spellbreaker warriors like they were comic book superheroes, gesturing wildly as he informed Alex of their great deeds, sometimes acting out sections, to Alex’s total bemusement. He had no idea what to make of this teacher, who seemed so oddly passionate about a subject Alex had thought to be taboo among mages.

He was also prone to poor dad jokes, though Alex had no idea whether to laugh or stare most of the time. Demeter’s love of humor didn’t seem to fit with the aesthetic of the rest of the school, but then neither did his subject matter. Aside from Demeter, Alex couldn’t actually recall the last time he had heard somebody crack a joke in this place, and it was as refreshing as it was weird.

Most of the lesson covered historical education, and although Master Demeter didn’t tell him anything he hadn’t already heard, Alex didn’t want to interrupt the flow of the man’s stories by saying so. Alex simply sat back and let Demeter do the talking, answering only when absolutely necessary. It was an easy session, to say the least, with him nodding along with the teacher’s madcap theatrics and enthusiastic tales, like when his high school teachers had put on movies before school vacations—informal but interesting. Alex wondered in disbelief if he might actually come to like his sessions with Master Demeter. His lessons with Alypia would be a different ball-game entirely, he guessed, but these ones he could definitely see himself enjoying, especially if they moved beyond things he already knew.

As the lesson came to an end, the clock on the wall showing it was almost lunchtime, Demeter turned sharply toward Alex, startling him with a clap of his hands. “Alas, we must end our session here for the day. That wasn’t too bad, was it? I’d say that went pretty quickly, if you ask me?” he said, prompting Alex.

He shrugged. “Pretty fast.”