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

long, they had reached the outskirts of the camp, moving past the spot where Alex had landed on that first visit. Ceres was showing no signs of stopping, though she paused for the briefest moment at the edge of the riverbank before crossing over to the other side, wading through the knee-high water without hesitation. Alex followed, feeling the cold squelch of water in his shoes as he hurried up after her. They appeared to be keeping to a worn-out track that led along the perimeter of a gaudy poppy field, where the flowers bloomed in a variety of different shades, some unfurling blue petals, others showing off purple ones, with the occasional white flower popping up between the bolder variants.

They came to a halt at what looked like an ancient windmill, though the sails had long since broken off into a heap of splintered wood at the base of the structure. Two sentries stood at either side of the entrance. They straightened to attention as Ceres approached.

“How are the prisoners?” she asked.

“One is asleep, one is awake,” said the sentry on the right.

“Which is doing which?” Ceres enunciated.

“The lady is asleep, the gentleman is awake,” said the sentry on the left.

Ceres smiled. “Very good. Thank you. My friend and I are in need of an audience with the gentleman—we won’t be long.”

The sentries opened the heavily bolted door and gestured for them to enter.

Inside the windmill, the air was stagnant, though the floor was clean and the walls were devoid of grime. Sunlight shone in through thin, slit windows, pooling on the flagstones in two long rectangles that crossed in the center. Around the circular room were four large, heavy-duty cells, the iron bars reinforced with twisting vines of gray ivy, and the dull glow of a protection spell or two. Inside two of these cells were Virgil and Venus, though, upon closer inspection, it was clear that Venus was asleep in hers, breathing softly where she lay, curled up on a rather soft-looking mattress, a thick blanket tucked around her chin. Virgil, however, was not so quiet.

“Not you again! Can’t I get a moment’s peace?” Virgil hissed, smacking the iron bars hard with the palms of his hands. “If you think you can make me do that spell again, you’re out of your mind,” he added, his expression furious.

“Good to see you’re awake and ready to chat,” said Alex, more confident now that Virgil was behind bars.

“I won’t do it, Webber,” Virgil retorted.

“We got you out, remember? You’d be dead if it wasn’t for us,” Alex reminded him, recalling the way the silver mist had surged toward the Head and his magical half.

“I almost died because you used me as a puppet, in a spell you were woefully unprepared for!” Virgil snapped back.

Alex felt a surge of shame and annoyance at that statement, but he tried to keep his tone measured. He didn’t want to argue with the Head; he just wanted to talk.

“And that’s why I’m here. That’s why I saved you. That’s why… That’s why I need your help, Virgil.”

“I suppose he put you up to this too, looking at me with your doe eyes—or doe eye, I should say,” Virgil sniped, turning his attention to Ceres, but she seemed unruffled by his words. Instead, she simply stared at Virgil for a moment, something strange passing between them, his fury calming, before she opened her mouth to speak.

“Come on, Virgil, I know you want the same things we do,” she said softly. “When we were kids, we used to play together. Do you remember? You, me, and Hadrian. When your sister was cruel, I stood up for you, and when Julius tried to hurt my brother and I, you stood up for us—do you remember?”

A thoughtful expression fell across Virgil’s face. “I think I still have the scar,” he whispered.

“When the war ended, you said you hadn’t wanted to follow Julius’s orders. Both you and Hadrian hated the thought of running the schools,” Ceres continued. “The two of you only did it so somebody worse wouldn’t step in—somebody who would relish the task of torturing and killing children. My brother was made to remember that recently, that he was never in this for the long haul, or for the nature of the job. I’m asking you to remember that too.” Ceres stepped forward, and to Alex’s utter shock, she grasped Virgil’s skeletal hands through the bars.

The movement seemed to take the Head by surprise too, his strange eyes glancing down at Ceres’s hands holding his, as if nobody had ever touched him before. When he looked back up at her, his eyes were filled with tears, though they refused to spill down his cheeks. For the first time, Alex felt like he could see a glimpse of the Virgil that lay beneath the bony façade—a scared man, out of his depth, treading water the only way he knew how. And, though Alex couldn’t begin to forgive the things Virgil had done in the name of saving his own skin, he could, at the very least, begin to understand.

Chapter 7

“What do you want to know?” Virgil asked, a look of defeat on his face.

Alex glanced at him in surprise. “Really?”

The Head shrugged. “Why not. I’m not getting out of here anytime soon—let’s just say I’m feeling charitable.” The clipped edge to his voice had returned, and his eyes were once again bone dry, but there was a new softness in his posture, brought on by Ceres’s coaxing. Alex cast a grateful nod in the one-eyed royal’s direction. She nodded in return, then left to join the sentries by the door, leaving the two of them alone with a sleeping Venus in the cell nearby.

“How much do you know about the spell?” Alex began. “I don’t know how conscious you were in the pit, but, needless to say, the spell went haywire.”

“Spellshadow Manor has fallen to the mist?” said Virgil, furrowing his pale brow. He seemed