The Secret of Spellshadow Manor 6 by Bella Forrest (motivational books for men TXT) 📗

Alex could make out the silky, striking silver feathers of Storm, and saw her beak snapping at over-curious hands.

Alex smiled, pleased to see that she’d weathered the journey. Hurrying outside, he weaved through the crowd, heading toward the center, where she stood. Storm chirped when she saw him, and the crowd dispersed, whispering among themselves as Alex petted the creature on the side of her neck, as if she were any domestic animal.

“You made it,” he whispered.

She chirruped loudly.

“I suppose we’d better put you somewhere safe,” he said, leading her through the crowd toward the tents where they were staying. There was a shady spot just behind, with a few low-hanging willows draping their leafy fronds across a sun-dappled expanse. “How’s this?” he asked.

Storm dipped her head and gave a throaty coo of approval.

Alex grinned. “Then I suppose I’ll leave you to it,” he said, watching as the Thunderbird moved off beneath the willow tree, where she hunkered down on her haunches and settled herself in the cool shade, like any nesting bird might. Resting her chin on her fluffy, feathered breast, her eyes closed, and soon, all that could be heard from beneath the willows was the soft cooing snore of a mighty Thunderbird. None of the crowd dared to follow her there, though some peered around the edge of the tent to catch a glimpse.

Knowing she’d be safe enough, Alex returned to the tent. Jari and Aamir had gone off to explore the rest of the camp, so Alex was left alone with his thoughts. He took up his spot on the bench. This time, however, he didn’t lie down. Instead, he pulled the satchel from his shoulder and lifted the flap, pulling out the thick book inside. He almost hated the feel of it as he brought it out onto his lap. This was the thing that had caused them so much suffering, and yet they still needed it. He was just glad he’d had the foresight to snatch it up before they’d made a run for it; otherwise, they’d really be in trouble.

Folding out the pages at the back, Alex forged a thin gauze of anti-magic and placed it over the glyphs, watching as they rearranged themselves into proper letters and sentences. Even now, the novelty had not quite worn off.

He scanned the text to find what he had missed, to uncover what had caused the catastrophe at Spellshadow. However, as his eyes glanced down at the page, he got something of a surprise. Where, before, the lettering had been clear and easy to read, now the words had faded, the ink less bold, the wording harder to make out. It was like someone had left the pages out in the sun too long.

“One failed attempt,” a voice whispered in his ear. Alex jumped, nearly dropping the book. Elias cackled as his wispy form floated onto the bench.

Alex scowled and scooted as far away from the shadow-man as he was able. “Did you know this would happen?”

Elias gave a careless shrug. “It’s rather obvious, isn’t it? If you fail again, the words will continue to fade. On the third and final try, the book will return itself to its cozy little home in the vault.”

“But what went wrong? We missed something—how could we have missed something?” Alex ran a hand through his hair in frustration.

Elias looked suddenly uncomfortable, his shadowy lips pursed, his galactic eyes shifty.

“What do you know, Elias?” Alex asked, his tone accusatory.

“Yogodarongblod,” Elias muttered.

Alex blinked at him. “What?”

“You got the wrong blood.”

Alex turned sharply in the shadow-man’s direction. “The wrong blood?”

Elias nodded his wispy head. “It had to be the blood of the ruler, the blood of the one who sits on the throne.”

“And you didn’t think to say this sooner?” Alex growled.

Elias held up two dark fronds. “Hey, don’t go blaming me! I didn’t know until the mist rose. Until that moment, I thought we were dandy.”

Alex had been wracking his brains, and hadn’t even fathomed that the blood was the issue, until Elias had mentioned it. Now that it had been spoken aloud, it made complete sense. Venus’s blood wasn’t the same as the blood running in Julius’s veins, and his was the blood of the ruler. Venus, as his wife, had married into the title—she had not been born to it, as Julius was.

“So we have to get our hands on the king’s blood,” Alex murmured.

“If you can move close enough to the guy without him sucking the life out of you, yes,” Elias said, rather unhelpfully.

Alex sat up straighter, struck with a sudden thought. “Well, we do have leverage—Venus.”

“You may have his wife, but what exactly do you plan to do with her? I wouldn’t really consider Julius the deal-making sort,” Elias purred.

“It’s our best shot—heck, it’s our only shot right now,” Alex said, pausing thoughtfully. “We could offer him his wife back in return for a vial of blood. Getting rid of the Great Evil is in his best interest, anyway. There’s no reason for him to refuse.”

“I think you underestimate how much our dear king enjoys doing things on his own terms,” the shadow-man tutted, waggling a shadowy finger.

Alex clutched the edge of the bench, trying to rein in his irritation. “Would you stop with the endless pessimism? Or at least offer up a better idea, if you’re going to be so critical about everything.”

“What can I say? I’m a realist,” Elias replied blithely. “But don’t point the finger at me when it all goes awry. If you manage it, I’ll eat my own hat.”

“You don’t have a hat,” Alex remarked.

Elias grinned. “Precisely—that is how confident I am.”

“Confident in my failure? How very uplifting of you, Elias. Remind me never to ask you to give a pep talk,” Alex muttered.

“Well then, you’ll be pleased to know you’re about to get a brief reprieve from my glorious presence,” Elias said, smiling.

Alex frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Since you believe I am not pulling my own weight—not that I weigh