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

yell at Vincent. The memory he had dwelled upon had made him feel exhausted and bitter, opening him up to a world of accumulated pain and torment within his own past, so intense he didn’t even need to see the faces of those who had suffered through it to feel the agony and persecution they had felt. It lingered inside him, haunting him. He wasn’t sure what he had expected, but he could never have anticipated the wave of pure terror and searing pain that had coursed through him, leaking through from some unseen point in his ancestry.

I shouldn’t have delved into my own past. I should have just followed Epstein and left this room while I still felt rested and calm.

A panic attack began to claw through Alex’s body, but Vincent was quick to step in, trying to calm Alex by helping him up and moving him over to the window at the far side of the room. The stale air washed over Alex’s face, soothing the livid red of his flushed cheeks. Moments later, as Alex leaned heavily against the sill, Vincent began to speak of other matters, probably in an attempt to distract Alex from the panic that threatened to tip him over the edge.

“Caius often disappears into a forest that lies just beyond this fog,” the necromancer said, pointing toward the blurry shape of trees. “It seems to be his favorite spot. I often see the vague silhouette of him, darting about out there.”

To Alex’s surprise, Vincent’s tactic worked. The light outside was growing dim, making Alex wonder just how long he had been in Vincent’s cell, dabbling in the spirit world. The idea that he had wasted a great chunk of time made him feel suddenly guilty, but this new information about the forest was somehow managing to shift his focus from his inner turmoil.

“Why does he go there?” Alex asked quietly, his voice thick with emotion.

“Who can say? He never brings anything out and he never takes anything in, though there have been rumors from time to time of him stealing away the odd prisoner to torture, to punish and play with at his leisure. No doubt a test subject for his latest batch of horrors,” Vincent mused. “He’s not the worst of them, mind you—the royals. His brother holds that title, more monster than man.” He shuddered, the movement causing the darkest veins in his head to pulsate in a somewhat nauseating fashion. Alex could barely look at them, though it was harder still to look away.

“His brother?”

Vincent nodded. “The king, Julius. If I had not experienced his cruelty for myself, I would think his vile reputation was nothing but exaggerated hearsay. He makes Caius’s box of tricks look like a parcel of kittens.”

The more Alex learned about the royals, the more he grew to detest them. Although, it seemed that those in charge of the havens had split off into their own factions. Alypia and the Head were one team, albeit a dysfunctional one, while Kingstone and, presumably, the haven he had not yet had the pleasure of visiting, Falleaf House, were laws unto themselves, quite separate from the closer sibling bond, however tense, of Alypia and her brother.

Glancing uncertainly at Vincent, Alex couldn’t help but again wonder why Vincent wanted to show him these skills or help him by imparting all this knowledge. What did Vincent get out of it? It was all of very real interest to Alex, but he wasn’t sure how Vincent could know so much, unless he was guilty of snooping in royal spirit lines. It seemed like a crime that could definitely get a person locked up.

No matter how much Alex wanted to believe Vincent’s motives were purely altruistic, the whole thing reeked somehow of Elias. He supposed Elias must have run out of books, and was now bringing people.

The only thing Alex knew for certain was that, as traumatic as the experience he’d just had was, it had left him with an unshakeable urge to know more about his own spirit line. It overpowered all other concerns—even the initial reason he had agreed to this lesson, which was to calm himself. He couldn’t stop now. Finally, he was embracing power. He smiled wryly, knowing with a bitter twinge that Natalie would be proud of this step in his personal growth. When he got back, he knew there would be apologies to make and forgiveness to seek, but now was not the time to dwell on that; he had visions to see, answers to find.

“I’d like to try just once more before we finish,” he said to Vincent. He wanted to master this skill as well as he could, while he had the chance.

Vincent seemed dubious, but replied, “What is it you need my help with?”

“Is it possible to focus the lines of my own spirit to get a better image of the memories and lives around me?”

Vincent thought for a moment, taking his time, tapping a long, pale finger against the edge of his sharp chin.

“There is a chance,” he said, finally, “though the way you manipulate and travel through spirit lines is different from the way the rest of us do it. It is not something I am entirely familiar with, though I may be able to instruct you. I hope I can, but I can give you no assurances of its success.”

“I’ll take those odds,” Alex replied.

“I must warn you—there is one caveat to spiritual travel.”

“What’s that?”

“You can only move within the timeline of those who share your magical credentials,” the necromancer explained.

Alex frowned. “What do you mean?”

“If you have a non-magical parent, for example, you won’t be able to follow their history or move along their spirit line. You will only be able to see them if they appear in the timeline of your magical side, viewed in a memory, only as your ancestor saw them,” he elaborated.

The understanding of it saddened Alex; he would have liked to explore his mother’s side