The Secret of Spellshadow Manor 4 by Bella Forrest (life books to read TXT) 📕

Once illuminated, he began to investigate, hoping nobody would catch sight of him from the keep with his extra precautions in place.

Looking around, it was clear to Alex that somebody had been here recently, and that somebody came here often. There were empty cups and stale crusts of bread scattered on dirty plates, with a pile of dishes in the small sink fitted to the wall at one side of the main room. It was oddly domestic, which didn’t seem to fit with the vision of Caius he had in his mind, but he supposed even a tyrant had to eat at some point.

Alex moved toward a desk at the back of the room. Snooping through the papers strewn across the workspace, he spied a stack of envelopes, some torn open, some still licked shut, as well as a map, flattened out on the surface of the desk. Intrigued, Alex leaned over to observe it more closely, seeing with some surprise that it appeared to be a map of the local area—a drawing of the keep, neatly labeled, then the mountains he had seen from the prison a long way behind, and various other little settlements dotting the forests and rivers that seemed to crisscross through the landscape. It was the first time he had seen a layout of one of the magical realms, and it was almost comforting to examine it, all drawn out clearly before him. It made it seem more real, somehow.

Knowing it might be important, but not wanting to take the map in case it raised an intruder alarm, Alex riffled through the various drawers until he found a suitably scrappy, insignificant-looking piece of paper. Spreading it out on the desk, he picked up a pen and made a quick sketch of the map before slipping the ragged copy into his pocket.

Alex turned back to the rest of the papers stacked on the desk, and a flash of color caught his eye. A curling letter “A” was imprinted in a circle of blood-red wax on the back of a cream envelope.

A royal seal, perhaps? Alex thought, taking a closer look. Something childlike in him desperately wanted to open the letter, but it hadn’t yet been opened by its recipient, and he was fearful of retribution if it were discovered that a trespasser had gotten a sneak peek.

Reluctantly, he left the letter where it was, instead searching the gatehouse to make sure there wasn’t any essence hidden in the small, inconsequential rooms that branched from the main one. He tapped books and pulled on torch brackets, checking for hidden chambers, but there were none. In fact, there was nothing particularly interesting at all, to Alex’s supreme disappointment—just a few cloaks, some food items, and a lot of books. And most of them had to do with ornithology and geography, nothing that particularly grasped Alex’s waning attention. He didn’t want to read about bald eagles and common sparrows; he wanted books with a bit more excitement between their pages.

Checking another set of cupboards for any sign of hidden essence, Alex realized he already felt lighter, a sense of calm and relief flooding his body, now that he was beyond the influence of the keep’s barrier. His mind was clearer, and there was no fog or pain clouding it; there was only himself and his sanity, restored to him.

He wondered wistfully if he could just stay away from the prison forever. Part of him thought it might be better that way, to give the others the chance to move forward without his outbursts exacerbating their problems, though the other part of him knew he couldn’t just give up now. The truth was, playing the hero was starting to take its toll on him. His chest still ached from the missing piece of soul, and his shoulders still sagged beneath the weight of what the future might bring, with so much uncertainty now ahead. It wasn’t a role he’d ever pictured himself in, and he could only hope he was doing a good enough job of keeping those dear to him safe.

Each day, his hatred for the royals burned brighter, and he knew it was not just the barrier making him feel a heightened sense of anger. It grew with every atrocity he heard of, with every named bottle of essence he touched that had once been a person, now used as an object instead of respected as an individual. It grew with each day he was kept away from his ailing mother and his friends were kept away from their families. It grew with each revelation of the royals’ dark and twisted ways, and the lengths they would go to make others suffer for their benefit. It grew with the knowledge that their king had essentially ordered yet another mass death warrant.

Glancing through the shielded windows toward the keep, Alex’s mind turned back to his friends, back to those mages who weren’t hateful and terrible, but had stood by his side through all of this, and continued to stand there, despite the hopelessness they all felt.

Checking that he had left everything exactly where he had found it and quickly removing the shields from the windows, Alex slipped out of the gatehouse, back into the night. He knew Caius wasn’t here, and probably wasn’t likely to come near the keep after Julius’s visit. It had been something of a fool’s errand, and yet it had given him another idea, one that might just get them back on track. He needed to be more powerful; he needed to have the tools to take on Caius, if they did come face-to-face. Ellabell was right: Caius was too powerful for Alex to take on alone. But Alex knew that, with some help, he could try to match the old warden, at least enough to get him to part with information on the essence. That was all he needed—a way in. A way of eking the knowledge out of Caius’s brain. And he knew