The Keep (The Secret of Spellshadow Manor #4)(94)

“Ready yourselves, it’s time to go through! Keep to the edge of the tree-line. Do not enter the forest. I repeat, do not enter the forest,” said Lintz.

Aamir stepped up first, his manner decidedly tentative. There was a bit of a leap down to ground level, but it was only a short drop, not nearly as high as the one between the Head’s office at Spellshadow Manor and the ground in Stillwater’s realm.

“And, jump! Go, go, go!” Lintz cried, sounding like the leader of a group of paratroopers, standing by the open plane hatch and ushering his comrades out.

Aamir jumped, using his magic to soften the fall as he soared through the air with enviable grace. With barely a rustle of leaves, he landed on the dewy grass, turning back to look up at the others with a cheerful thumbs-up.

“Go, go, go!” Lintz roared again, as Ellabell stepped up.

Alex moved with her toward the edge of the portal, grasping her hand. Even as she reached the lip of it, preparing for the jump, he still held onto her. She wore a worried expression, but he knew she was much too brave to let a tiny jump bother her—there was undoubtedly something else on her mind, but whatever it was, it would have to wait. She turned back to him for a moment, flashing him her boldest smile.

With a tight squeeze of his fingers, she let go of him, leaping through the mirrored pool of the portal and landing on the grass with a light thud. The only ones left now were Alex and Professor Lintz.

Alex was preparing to jump, when a scream tore through the keep.

Immediately, he knew it had come from Alypia, and the sound of it made him step back from the edge of the portal. A million possibilities rushed through his mind.

Has she escaped? Has she wormed her way out of her restraints? Has she run into something nasty on her exodus?

He knew if he didn’t go to her now, to check that she was still securely locked up, he would regret it. After so much effort to trap her, he didn’t even want to think of the possibility of her running free, able to follow him once more. It wasn’t a risk he was going to take again.

“Keep the doorway open for me,” Alex said suddenly, turning to Lintz.

“Leave her, Alex!” the professor insisted, but Alex knew he couldn’t.

“I have to be sure she hasn’t gotten out. If she’s free, then all of this has been for nothing,” he explained quickly. “We can’t risk her being on our tails—please, wait for me down there. Keep the portal open. I won’t be long.”

“Alex! Come back!” the professor yelled, but Alex was already halfway down the corridor, his direction clear in his mind.

He ran until he reached the familiar door of Agatha’s old guard room, now Alypia’s cell. However, as he neared, he saw that the door was already open. Building anti-magic beneath his palms, he burst through, ready to face what was on the other side.

The sight made Alex’s eyes go wide with horror.

Caius loomed above the frozen figure of Alypia, who was kneeling on the ground, head bowed. Her mouth was moving silently, as if in prayer, though her hands were bound behind her by the ivy-wrapped manacles. In his own hands, Caius clutched the handle of a gleaming, magical sword, which shone a pure gold as he slowly raised it above her head, seeming to take a few practice swings before he dealt the final blow.

Alex rushed into the room, putting himself between Caius’s blade and Alypia, threads of anti-magic still crackling along his skin.

“What are you doing?” he yelled, splaying out his hands to protect Alypia.

“Delivering justice,” Caius replied bitterly, a flash of hatred in his eyes.

Alex stared at Caius in disbelief. “Not like this, Caius. This isn’t you—this is your anger talking.”

“Move, Alex. You do not understand,” Caius said, his gaze cold and piercing. “She feels no remorse. My Guinevere was murdered, and they laughed. They laughed at her pain and mine. They are monsters unworthy of forgiveness.”

Alex took a step closer. “She is far more useful to us alive! We can use her against Julius. We can use her to get information.”

“She deserves to die.” Caius lifted his sword again. “Now, move aside, my boy. I do not wish to make you.”

“No.” Alex met Caius’s eyes and let the glitter of silver and black build in his hands. The warden frowned, his grip on the sword weakening for a moment, and Alex was almost relieved.

Almost.

In an instant, Caius’s expression shifted, and he shoved Alex to the side with enough force to jar the younger man’s shoulder. The impact knocked Caius off balance for a moment, no longer having his cane to lean on for support, but he rallied quickly, lifting the sword over Alypia once more in a single motion. Alex stumbled forward with a grunt as the blade came down, catching it between his palms. Gold and silver clashed in a surge of light, ice forming along the places Alex’s hands gripped the sword. Caius was not letting go, and neither was he.

Alex pressed harder into the blade, though the razor-sharp edge burned his hands. As he channeled his anti-magic along its length, veins of frost began to spread from the sword’s center to its point and pommel, until every trace of gold had disappeared, the weapon morphing into a solid block of ice. With one more pulse of anti-magic, the sword shattered into fragments, and Alex was left breathless and sweating, surrounded by rapidly melting shards of slush. His hands were stinging. Glancing down, he saw two dark red lines where the blade had bitten into his skin, the wounds instantly cauterized. They hurt, but he was in one piece.