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

on the upper floor remained vacant, staring out at him as he approached. Reaching the steps leading up to the battered front door, he paused a moment to glance in at the broken windows of the lower floor, checking for any evidence that Ellabell had been there. The interior was dim, a musty smell wafting toward him from the holes in the shattered pane, but he couldn’t make out much. A desk. Some chairs. Empty bookshelves. A rug, furry with decades of mold.

No Ellabell.

He’d have to go in, but something about the old building creeped him out. It looked like the kind of house adults warned children to stay away from, though he could see how it might once have been beautiful. A lick of paint, some new windows, a sash or something hanging from the balcony above, and it’d be good as new.

Alex jumped as a voice pierced the air above him. Instinctively, he ducked, not quite knowing how it would help him.

“Admiring the view?” the voice called from the balcony.

How he hadn’t seen the man standing there or heard his cane on the floor, Alex didn’t know, but he sensed trickery at work—some kind of illusion or camouflage. The man was certainly pale enough to match the façade. Alex felt bile rise up his throat as he examined the figure more closely. The man was old, his hair white, though not the kind of white brought on by old age. It was a particular kind of white, one Alex instantly recognized. Keen golden eyes glanced down from their vantage point, clearly scrutinizing Alex, trying to assess the threat he presented.

Caius, at long last.

“You needn’t be afraid. I’m no danger to you,” the man said, the softness in his clear, almost musical voice taking Alex by surprise. “I believe you must be looking for the girl, yes?”

Mention of Ellabell brought Alex back to his senses, and he braced himself, trying to prepare for the fight ahead. Above him, the man he knew to be Caius had disappeared from the balcony, but he could hear the scuffle of feet within the town hall, growing gradually closer. Caius was almost upon him. Alex raised his hands, ready to battle to the death.

Only, the fight did not come.

“Put your hands down, my boy. There’s no fight in this old dog.” Caius smiled, the expression utterly confusing to Alex, who had been expecting something far more dramatic. “Come on in. You’ll see I mean you no harm.”

Tentatively, his hands still raised, Alex followed Caius as he limped into the town hall’s foyer and up the remnants of a grand stairwell, which had what looked like brass pineapples sticking up at the bottom of each curving banister. Old paintings hung on the walls, but they were so rotten, the canvases so moth-eaten, that Alex couldn’t make out many of the images upon them. He thought he saw the mountain in one, a flash of lightning jolting down in a jagged scar across the paintwork, though it could just as easily have been a tear. Still, it left him pondering whether the storm ever went away, and what mad feat of weather kept it there—perhaps it was the magic of the realm, drawing it in, keeping it brewing.

At the top of the stairs, Caius led Alex across the landing toward a room at the front of the building, where he must have accessed the balcony, Alex realized. Inside, there was a study of sorts, a fire roaring in the grate to keep out the mountain chill. Curled up beside the flames was Ellabell, fast asleep on a thick, clean rug, smothered in intricately woven blankets with various vivid patterns that reminded Alex of Native American textiles he’d seen when he was younger. As far as he could tell, she looked unharmed, her slumber a peaceful one.

Alex’s heart felt as if it were about to burst with relief. There she was, seemingly safe and sound. He wanted to run over to her and check that she was okay, but Caius’s voice distracted him.

“Don’t wake the poor girl. She’s had a tough time,” he said, sitting in one of the armchairs that stood a short distance away from the fire and the sleeping Ellabell. Caius set his cane against the chair, and Alex noticed that the cane’s silver top seemed to be in the shape of a falcon’s head. “May I offer you a drink?”

Alex raised an eyebrow, still wary of this stranger. “Why should I trust you?” he muttered, musing upon those very words. Why was he still standing here? Why hadn’t he lifted his hands and made the first move? Why had Caius let him approach? There were so many questions, and only one who could answer them.

“Come now, let’s not get off on the wrong foot,” said Caius softly, gesturing toward the armchair opposite him. “Join me by the fire—we’ll talk, we’ll drink tea, and then we’ll see if you still want to blow my head off.”

Alex hesitated.

“Please, if you’re thinking of trying to fight me, I would strongly advise you not to. It would be futile, for you and for me,” he said calmly. “You see, your anger is misplaced… I am not the kidnapper you are looking for.”

Chapter 18

The old man was a mystery, a million miles away from the villainous monster Alex had been expecting, the polar opposite of his cruel brother. Although Caius greatly resembled King Julius, there was a welcoming quality to him that reminded Alex of his grandfather, and as much as he tried to stir up thoughts of combat and gaining the upper hand, the warden was one step ahead, warning him against it with his gentle gaze.

“What do you mean, you’re not the kidnapper I’m after?” Alex asked, still not taking the seat opposite the old man.

“Exactly as I say—I am not the kidnapper you are looking for,” he replied, matter-of-factly. From an elegant crystal decanter, he poured two glasses of blood-red liquid. Alex