The Secret of Spellshadow Manor 2 by Bella Forrest (top ten ebook reader .TXT) 📗

He flipped to the first page and noted the familiar jumble of sketched shapes and symbols. It made little sense to him, though he knew they couldn’t be random. Elias wouldn’t have given him a book of nonsense; it wasn’t the shadow-man’s way.

As if hearing himself being thought about, Elias appeared in the darkest corner of the room with a silent quiver of frosty air. He poured himself from the rafters in one slick movement, shaping into an almost-human form.

“Good morning,” greeted Elias, keeping to the shade of the walls, unable to get too close to Alex as the sunlight dappled the graying flagstones.

“Elias.” Alex nodded in the shadow-man’s direction, surprised to see him at such early hours of the day. He wasn’t sure if it was the light playing tricks on him, but Alex was certain he could see discomfort in Elias’s movements and the contortion of his peculiar human face. “What brings you here?” Alex asked, curious.

“Can’t a shadow visit his friend?” Elias’s mouth twisted into something resembling a grin, and his inky teeth glittered.

“It depends what the shadow is after,” said Alex.

Elias frowned. “Perhaps the friend should remember that I am only ever here to help,” replied the shadow sourly.

“Sorry, it’s early,” Alex said, raising his hands in apology.

The gesture seemed to appease Elias as he leaned fluidly against the wall, most of his body sinking into the shadows there, until only his face stood out against the darkness.

“I came to see how you were progressing with my gifts.” Elias nodded toward the notebook in Alex’s hands.

“Not too well. I can’t make any sense of it.” Alex shrugged, tossing the notebook onto the bedcovers in front of him. “I think it’s a dud,” he joked.

Annoyance flashed in the endless black of Elias’s eyes. “It is no dud, Alex. You are simply not trying hard enough.” He peeled his form away from the protective shade of the cold stone walls.

“It doesn’t make sense,” insisted Alex.

“It might,” growled Elias, “if you bothered to try.”

“I’ve tried. I’ve looked at it and looked at it. It’s just scrappy little patterns that don’t mean anything,” exclaimed Alex, exasperated.

“And so you give up?” Elias glared in Alex’s direction, irritation evident in the shadow’s voice.

“I haven’t given up. I’m just… figuring it out,” Alex explained, picking the notebook up again. He felt bad for throwing it.

“You should be further on with it by now,” hissed Elias, wringing the wispy tendrils that served as his hands. “You went to visit that curly-haired do-gooder yesterday, yes?” His impossible eyes flashed at Alex with borderline menace.

“What if I did?” said Alex defensively.

“She told you about that last battle?” Elias pressed.

“Yes,” Alex admitted.

“And off you ran to your little mice, when you should have come straight here. Perhaps I have misplaced my trust. Perhaps you are not as capable as I thought,” said Elias bitterly, running his wispy hand through the flowing locks of pure, liquid shadow that framed his face.

“This doesn’t make any sense, Elias,” snapped Alex, waving the little notebook at the shadowy figure in the corner.

“If only you had the same sense of urgency and dedication as your friends,” spat Elias, his eyes burning brightly as they made Alex squirm. “Day by day, they grow stronger, while you stay the same. The French girl is delving into deeper, more dangerous magical arts and cares not for the consequences, so long as she may have the knowledge. The other one—the Greek one—is forever in the library reading up on powerful magic and how to do useful things, like break locks and cloak himself. What do you do? You wait to be handed things on a silver platter.”

The disappointment in Elias’s voice stung. Alex was startled by the truth rolling from the shadow-man’s contorted lips. He had suspected Natalie was wandering into dangerous territory, but to hear it confirmed stunned him. Jari, too, going above and beyond. What on earth did he need to break locks and cloak himself for? Alex couldn’t help thinking that perhaps he was getting left behind.

“That’s not fair,” murmured Alex.

“Nothing is,” sighed Elias, the sharp edge to his words softening slightly.

The silence stretched between Alex and Elias. A low, musical whistle trilled from the cavernous depths of the shadowy figure’s form as he moved forward a step or two, held back only by the gathering sunlight. Listening to the tune pierce the air, Alex got the not-so subtle hint that Elias was waiting for him to speak.

“Did you bring me something else?” Alex asked, still confused by Elias’s early visit. Was he just there to chastise him?

Elias scowled, the expression terrifying on his fluid face. “No, I did not bring you anything else. Do you see what I mean? Always expecting the answers on a silver platter—hand delivered in a box with a ribbon on top, no doubt,” he grumbled. “You have done little enough with the books I have already given you. Perhaps I will not be so generous in future.”

“I’ve read the Battles book,” said Alex tersely.

“And done nothing with the other!” cried Elias, the sound vibrating through the walls and up the very bones of Alex’s body.

“What am I supposed to do with it? I can’t read it!”

“Figure it out, without having to be spoon-fed,” Elias said coldly.

This wasn’t the Elias Alex was used to, and he couldn’t help feeling a tremor of fear as the room grew cold around him, Elias’s voice pressing in from all around. There was menace in Elias’s face, and Alex could not ignore it.

“It belonged to Leander Wyvern, right?” said Alex quietly, running his thumb once more across the faded lettering of the name he had feebly hoped belonged to his own heritage.

“It belonged to a great warrior,” replied Elias, giving his usual brand of slippery answer.

“Wyvern was a Spellbreaker?”

“That depends—what do the books say?” Elias remarked tartly.

“That he was,” said Alex, resisting the urge to snap.

Elias clapped the viscous extensions of his hands together,