The Keep (The Secret of Spellshadow Manor #4)(46)

She took his hand in hers, squeezing it tightly. “You’re hurting, and you have as much right as anyone to talk about it. I’m here to listen,” she reassured him. “If something is troubling you, you can tell me.”

“Sorry I haven’t been myself lately,” Alex replied quietly after a moment’s silence, unable to meet her gaze. He didn’t want her to see him like this, all over the place.

“Did something happen, something you’re not telling us?” she pressed, her voice still laced with concern.

He shook his head again, unable to put it into words.

“Let’s just sit out here for a while,” Ellabell said, tugging at his wrist.

He nodded, trying to force a smile upon his lips. “That sounds nice.”

Gripping her hand, he followed her up to a narrow pew fastened to the far wall, just beneath the sill of a long, narrow window that looked like it might once have served as a hole for archers to fire their arrows from. Outside, the sky was invisible, smothered in the bronze fog that served as a reminder of just how trapped they were. He sighed, turning away from it.

He could see that Ellabell was wracked with concern for him, her eyes scanning his face for signs of anything that might be useful in telling her what had happened to him. He would have told her himself, but, for the moment, words failed him. Fatigue sapped whatever was left of his strength, leaving him slumped and silent on the bench’s varnished surface, wishing he had something articulate to say to the pretty girl before him who was watching him with such compassion in her sparkling blue eyes. He wanted to reach out for her and pull her into a tight embrace, to let them both know that the world wasn’t crumbling away around them, that there was still hope within it. But he couldn’t raise his arms to the task. All he could do was sit and stare, a blank expression upon his face, his mind battered by the day’s onslaught of events. It was a lot to take in, and he wasn’t sure he’d ever absorb it all.

“What happened?” she asked gently, after a lengthy spell of absolute silence. “Aside from the obvious.”

For a brief moment, he thought about putting on a brave face and pretending he was okay, coming up with something about it just being the same thing everyone else was upset about, or saying he had just been affected by the barrier’s influence or the reparation of his soul. But looking at her, the girl who was gazing back with such trust in her eyes, he knew he had to come out with it instead of keeping it hidden within. Secrets only served to eat away at the hope inside him, and he wasn’t willing to suffer its rotting influence again. So, he let the truth flow.

He told her what had happened with Elias, though it now seemed like a lifetime since he had experienced it—he shared every word, letting it all pour from his mouth until there was nothing left. Every detail, every moment, every pain, every face within the story he had to tell. He told her what Elias had done to his father, and how Siren Mave had come to defend the shadow-man’s actions, giving Alex a long-winded tale of guardians and accidents and good intentions. Lastly, he told her of the devastation his mother must have felt, never knowing what had happened, and the pain she had suffered in the years afterwards… the pain they had both suffered, not knowing.

“It hurts, Ellabell… It hurts so much,” he said through gritted teeth, holding his chest as if his heart might shatter at any moment. “I never knew him, and I keep thinking about all the times I judged him so harshly for leaving her. I used to think about what I’d say to him if I ever saw him again, and it was never going to be anything nice. All that time wasted on anger, when he hadn’t done anything wrong. He died, loving my mother, loving me. I felt it, in his heart… He loved us so much,” he gasped, the grief overwhelming.

She edged toward him a little self-consciously, holding out her arms. He moved into them, closing his eyes as he felt her wrap her arms tightly around him. Through the fabric of his t-shirt, he could feel the skin of his shoulder dampening beneath her tears, shed for him.

“It’s okay,” he whispered.

She shook her head, gripping him tighter. “No, it’s not. I can’t imagine… I’m sorry, Alex. I’m so sorry for your loss.”

They held each other for a long while, separating slowly. Ellabell brushed the tears from her eyes and Alex brushed the tears from his, realizing how fiercely he adored the girl in front of him. It was not the right time to tell her—she would think it was just his grief talking. But he knew he would tell her one day soon. He had to, in case there came a day when he might lose her too.

“I don’t think you should take any more advice from that shadowy creature,” said Ellabell, looking up at him with anxious eyes. “I know he’s useful and he helps you where none of us can, but I don’t trust him. I didn’t before, but now I feel as if he’s only capable of creating suffering, delighting in his secrets and in tormenting you. It’s all a game to him, and I don’t want to see you lose.”

Alex could see that her warning was kindly meant. Worry furrowed her brow as she spoke, her hand gripping his, her expression earnest. There was truth in what she said; he knew that. The problem was, Elias was addictive. Alex hung on to every word the shadow-man said, hoping for a morsel to be thrown in his direction. When he was at a loss and feeling as if all hope was gone, as he was now, Elias was like a beacon of promise, of fresh ideas, of inspiration. He could see that now, and even after promising himself he’d never see his shadow-guide again, not after Elias’s unforgivable act, he wasn’t sure of the strength in his resolve, should he come face-to-face with his shadowy acquaintance again. It was a truth Ellabell knew too; he could see it on her face. It pained him to see it there, that expression of saddened insight, though he couldn’t argue against it.