The Secret of Spellshadow Manor 4 by Bella Forrest (best e book reader android TXT) 📗

the first golden cylinder, Alex finally felt as if they were getting somewhere.

Caius, we’re coming for you, he thought, unable to stop the smile as it spread across his face.

Chapter 9

Although Demeter and Vincent didn’t say much as they wandered down the corridors, Alex could hardly contain his optimism. If their new plan worked, they might just manage to stay one step ahead of the game, evading Alypia before she had the chance to break through to the keep. It seemed as if she was doubling her efforts to reconnect the portal from Stillwater, but, as worried as that made him, Alex refused to feel disheartened. Where there were options, there was hope.

Turning the corner from one of the inner vestibules, complete with its enticing golden cylinder, they reached the hallway where Agatha and Vincent’s cells were, though the necromancer continued past the two half-open doors, moving away from his own room and heading toward another door a little way up. He knocked lightly, awaiting the response from within.

“Come in!” cried Agatha.

Alex wasn’t sure what this room was, but it sure didn’t look like a cell. Beyond the door was a small common room of sorts, though Agatha was the only inhabitant. She had said her farewells to Alex and the others after his near-death experience out of the window, blaming a sudden onset of fatigue, though she seemed rejuvenated now as she greeted Alex, Demeter and Vincent.

A fire burned fiercely in a grate on the far side, with dusty armchairs arranged in front of it. Alex thought it might be something of a fire hazard, but he didn’t mention it as he followed Vincent and Demeter inside, choosing to stand while the others sat before the roaring flames. On the back wall, Alex caught a glimpse of gold fixed into the masonry, half-covered by a carved wooden sculpture of a goddess. The sight took him by surprise, making him realize that this must once have been an old guard room or something, not intended for the use of prisoners. It was actually a barrier module, similar to the ones that graced the walls in the various courtyards and vestibules within the prison. Alex wandered toward it, wanting to get a better look.

“Welcome, welcome, to our little prison oasis—tea, my cherubs?” Agatha asked, offering a cup.

“No, thanks.” Alex shook his head, not turning in her direction. He felt too hot for tea.

“As you please. What brings you back into my loving arms?” Agatha asked, as she sipped from her own cup.

“Just a notifying errand, Agatha,” Vincent explained. “There’s a plan afoot to fiddle with the pesky barrier modules and bring dear old Caius into something of an ambush. I thought you’d want to be kept informed of such exciting goings-on.”

Alex reached the far wall, moving the carved sculpture aside. The gold glinted as he lifted a hand toward it, wanting to feel the cylinder’s smooth, ornate surface. Even at this distance, he could hear the thrum of something mechanical within, and knew he would have to pry the outer shell off somehow to get to what was inside.

Agatha inclined her head in a subtle nod. “I imagine the warden is currently out and about, darting among the shadows at the edge of the forest, no doubt inspired by the darkness. What new, vile methods shall he find with which to torment us next, I wonder? Anything to keep us like soldiers, all in a line, never setting a foot wrong,” she murmured.

“So this is a magic barrier module, here?” Alex wanted to double check, scrutinizing the screws that held the top cover in place, wondering how he was going to lift it off.

Vincent eyed the contraption with calm curiosity. “Goodness, in all these years, I had forgotten that thing was even in here. It has become such a part of the furniture,” he mused. “Yes, it is, though it’s a little bigger than the others, wouldn’t you say? How about we take a look at it?”

“I think it needs a screwdriver or something,” Alex said, tapping the metal. A spark stung the end of his fingertip, as he had experienced with the first module he had happened upon. He took it as a good sign.

“Agatha, would you be of any use to our new friend? I know you love a good lock-pick,” Vincent asked, glancing at her.

She shook her head. “Cripes, no! Don’t you remember the last time I gave it a try? Sent me flying halfway across the room!”

“Ah, yes, I knew there was something I forgot to mention about it,” the necromancer said, tapping the side of his head. “You don’t seem to be having much trouble, mind you,” he remarked to Alex, drawing a curious expression from Agatha.

“Thanks for the warning,” said Alex, with a note of sarcasm. If he hadn’t already had a brief encounter with one of these things, he might have approached it more carefully, had he known it could knock him back. Vincent was right, though—so far it hadn’t seemed to affect him much, save for a little electric shock. He frowned, trying to ignore the strange look Agatha was giving him. He wondered if the shock meant there was some sort of shield protecting the module. It made sense, given that it was placed within a prison full of criminals, and yet he couldn’t sense any magic coming from the shell itself.

Perhaps it’s something underneath?

“Well, we certainly have enough detritus lying around our beloved sitting room. I’m almost certain there will be something of use among the bric-a-brac,” the pale man assured Alex as he rose to seek it out.

Sure enough, in the depths of a dusty chest of drawers, Vincent found a screwdriver and brandished it aloft with a whoop of triumph, before bringing it over to where Alex stood. Alex took the tool gratefully, and set to work on the eight screws that held the larger module’s cover in place. He made swift work of it, the shell