The Secret of Spellshadow Manor by Bella Forrest (classic english novels txt) 📗

confused. I know. The young woman is already off to her orientation, but I can show you the way. The Head will explain everything.”

“No, I—”

“Ah, where are my manners?” the woman continued, ignoring Alex. “My name is Siren Mave. I look after the newcomers, make sure everybody is settling in, that sort of thing. If you’ve got any concerns, you can always come to me!” She licked her lips, smiling impishly before bustling out from behind her desk, grabbing Alex by the sleeve as she passed him.

“Wait—what is—”

“Yes, yes, yes,” she said. “I know, I know. Very confused. Rest assured, you’ll be okay! This is a good place.” She let out a tittering laugh that could suggest either sinister glee or reassurance; Alex was completely unsure as to which it was.

This bizarre woman had, however, said something important. The young woman is already off to her orientation, but I can show you the way. Whatever “orientation” meant didn’t matter at this point—Alex’s mind already felt blown to a million shards—but it sounded like this woman would show him to Natalie, which was all his brain needed to focus on. He’d have a chance to get her out. So instead of continuing to ask questions to which he received only nonsensical answers, he should just hold his tongue.

The hallway seemed even longer than Alex had assumed, drifting on and on until he didn’t think it was possible that they hadn’t hit the back end of the building yet. They passed a window showing a sunlit garden, and another—to his bewilderment—that looked out onto a moon-drenched lake, sparkling with ice.

Once, through an open doorway, Alex glimpsed a group of young people sitting around a table, their heads bent together. They turned, quieting as he passed, their faces dark and unreadable.

How many others are in this place?

The end of the hallway they had come from seemed to have been swallowed up behind them, yet the rest stretched out before them, out of sight, seemingly infinite.

Siren Mave looked around, as if to get her bearings in the perfectly straight hallway, then picked out a door with a little black knob. She placed one hand on the knob, then paused and turned to Alex, looking him up and down.

“You look a bit like you’ve been fighting, dear,” she said disapprovingly.

He glanced down at himself. His clothes were rumpled, smudged with dirt, and torn in places, and he had light scratches all over his hands. He noticed suddenly that they stung a bit—he was so distracted he hadn’t noticed before. He imagined he must have gotten the injuries when Natalie had flung him away.

“Actually—” he began, but Siren Mave held up her hands in exasperation.

“Not much to be done for it, I suppose,” she sighed. Her face grew stern, and she reached out a small hand and jabbed him in the chest with it. The blow was unexpectedly hard—just like Natalie’s had been—and drove him back a step, leaving a stinging welt.

“Ow!” he spat, but she interrupted him yet again, as though he had not spoken at all. She was relentless, impossible.

“Remember,” the plump little woman said in a humorless voice. “You will keep your manners about you and be polite when in the Head’s company. He is a busy man, with many commitments, and he does not have much time for students. He does, however, make the time to meet with new arrivals, and you ought to be very grateful for that opportunity.”

New arrivals.

Students.

He cocked his head, straining to make sense of the nonsensical, but Siren Mave was already turning the black knob. As it rotated, something beyond the door stirred. It was as though the dark that had been held inside grew eager to slide out, and began to bleed in thick, questing tendrils from the frame. Siren Mave swatted it away as it looped down toward her, then yanked the door open.

A black pit yawned there. It was full of little noises, like cat’s paws padding over packed dirt. A ripple of cold broke over Alex’s skin as a smell seemed to sweep up to envelop him. It was like a forest after rain, all wet grass and dripping trees, with just the faintest musk of something animal waiting nearby.

Was Natalie somewhere in there? In the feral darkness? He peered at it, his heart hammering against his ribcage, and opened his mouth to speak.

Siren Mave, however, planted her strong little hand in the square of his back and shoved him in. He toppled forward, his head breaking through the layer of dark like he was falling through a sheet of suspended water.

He coughed, shivering as he staggered into the room beyond. It was small, stone, its only adornment a wooden bench along one wall. It looked like a prison cell.

Natalie sat on the bench, her eyes cast down toward the ground, her hands folded in her lap. He rushed forward, relieved to see her in one piece—and unaccompanied by the man.

“Natalie! God. Are you okay? Can you hear me?” He held her shoulders and looked into her face, but her head lolled to the side, as if she were unconscious.

“Hey! Natalie, wake up! We need to get out of here!” He snapped his fingers in front of her, then gave her a shake. She swayed back and forth, completely unresponsive, then rolled slowly to her original position, once more staring blankly at her feet.

He stepped back from her, feeling frantic, trying to assess the situation.

“Okay,” he spoke aloud to himself, pulling at his hair. “Okay. It’s fine. She can’t be too heavy. I can carry her…”

Alex turned back to look the way he had come, and blinked. Whatever door he had entered through, it was now concealed. Only a flat mass of stone stood at his back now. A torch upon the wall flickered with dancing light, sending the smell of oil and smoke into the air. Siren Mave was nowhere to be seen.

He whirled back around, eyes darting from blank wall to