The Keep (The Secret of Spellshadow Manor #4)(103)

Bored by her relative lack of action, he swept through the hallway and up to the closed, broken door of the room where the portal to Falleaf had been, only to quickly back out of it again at the sight of hollow eyes and gaping mouths turned sharply in his direction. As amused as he was to see how things with the royals would play out, the outcome looked decidedly grim for Caius, even by Elias’s standards. He didn’t think he could stomach the sight of the otherworldly spirits sucking the life out of the old man, not without a bucket of popcorn and a comfier seat, anyway. It made him positively uneasy, reminding him of bad times he didn’t wish to remember.

At least they can’t get me, he thought to himself, hurrying from the domain of such foul acts. Conjured specters were a vicious breed, and not one Elias wanted to be anywhere near. Once he was far enough away, he breezed through the corridors until he reached the open courtyard. Whistling a silent tune through hopelessly shifting lips, he pressed his shadowy palms to the wall where the portal had been, and felt for the buzz of its magical signature. Shivering as he connected with it, he floated effortlessly through the wall and into the realm of Stillwater.

Not again, he thought grumpily as the strands of his body decided to attempt a getaway. Regathering the parts of himself he felt were most necessary and hoping the rest wouldn’t stray too far, he swept up into the darkness of the ceiling and gazed down, unseen, from the ceiling. To his surprise, he saw that the prison force had successfully slipped through the portal and closed it—The easy part, he mused—and were beginning to wreak havoc on the upper classes. He was delighted to see it, reveling in the sight of noble mages being taken down a peg or two.

Just as long as nobody rings any kind of alarm, we’ll all get along just swell, he thought, keeping an eye on anyone he thought looked shifty.

He trailed the small group, careful to keep a good distance from Demeter in case the ginger-haired halfwit decided to have an epiphany and sense his presence. He shot upward into the darkness as the group collided with the familiar figure of Helena, who ran into them halfway down one of the grand hallways Elias had always found somewhat vulgar, the tapestries and gold adornments bordering on tacky. The silver-haired girl still left an unsavory taste in Elias’s mouth, but then, he’d never been a fan of anyone with royal blood running in their pampered, privileged veins.

Eavesdropping, he was pleased to hear they were doing their duty, filling Helena in on what had happened and asking for her assistance in what was to come.

You’d do anything to screw over your old bat of a mother, wouldn’t you? he mused wryly as the silver-haired girl agreed to help. You want her place in court, no doubt. True, he was pleased the others had her on their side, but he still couldn’t bring himself to warm to any sort of princess.

Satisfied, Elias decided to return to his Spellbreaker in the hopes of watching him from afar, until he could select the right moment to strike. He knew the exact look of despair that would appear on Alex’s face at the sight of his shadowy self returned, and the thought of it made him giddy with pleasure.

Since it was still daylight as Elias pushed back through to Kingstone Keep and soared toward the mountain, he wasn’t sure how close he’d be able to get to his unwilling charge. But as he neared, he found he could move toward the Spellbreaker, even in broad daylight. This new skill thrilled him. Clapping his wispy hands together in soundless joy, he was pleased to see all his fronds had been restored to him too. It seemed the traitorous tendrils had been off seeking Alex.

Well, you’ve found him, Elias noted with a haughty flick of his shadowy hair. Now, can we cooperate? The remaining wisps coiled closer to him, giving him more solidity than he’d had in weeks. It felt almost strange, not to have to go chasing after the various absconding vapors of his being, but he certainly wasn’t displeased at this turn of events. Another unexpected pleasure of having a piece of one’s soul torn out and stolen, he mused—as well as being away from all those various pesky barriers.

Peering from the empty nest on the rocky outcrop above Alex’s head, praying no chicks suddenly appeared with an appetite for shadowy half-beings, he watched as the great, exquisite bird pressed the very tip of her sharp beak into Alex’s palm. Elias wondered if Alex knew how dangerous these creatures were, but it seemed the boy was more fearless than Elias had given him credit for. He saw Alex lift his hand to the side of the bird’s face, stroking the soft, downy silver feathers there. With a creature as truly majestic as this, even Elias had no time for sass.

Glancing curiously at the boy he had grown attached to, like a brother or an uncle or an annoying itch it was impossible to be rid of, he pondered whether the Spellbreaker would be brave enough to walk—or in this case, fly—in the footsteps of his ancestors, and try to ride the beast. Even Elias had to admit he was impressed at Alex finding a Thunderbird, and a friendly one at that, all the way up here in these forgotten lands. It was a place where Thunderbirds had once flourished, but nobody remembered them now. They had been forgotten about, left to fall into the depths of legend, to be read about in books and seen in paintings, nothing more. He speculated upon how the beautiful bird knew what Alex was, having undoubtedly never seen a Spellbreaker in its lifetime. Perhaps it was in their blood, just as riding them was in Alex’s.

Birds of a feather, he smirked.

In truth, Elias wished his friend well. To him, Alex was a friend, with views and goals paralleling his own. There was more similarity between them than there was difference, though Elias knew Alex wasn’t ready to see that yet. When he was, Elias would be there. They shared the desire to make the Head pay the ultimate price, and the wish to make him do the spell, if at all possible, although Elias’s motives were somewhat more personal. With everything Alex had learned, Elias’s optimism had grown, despite his usual distaste for positivity.