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

was Julius who chained him up, wanting to be the last thing Leander saw as he died beneath the magic of the firing squad. Julius told me that as he was fixing the chains in place on Leander’s wrists, he whispered that he would wipe any remnant of Leander from the face of the earth. That’s when Leander broke free from his chains and clawed at my brother’s neck, leaving deep scars. Did you notice that my brother was wearing a high collar?”

Alex recalled the cream-colored military suit with the black epaulettes, realizing that the collar had indeed been a high one, hiding most of Julius’s neck from sight. He nodded.

Caius smiled. “Well, that’s why. Julius managed to fight Leander off using a horrid spell that slowly flays flesh off bone, but the damage had been done. My brother threatened the life of Leander’s progeny, though we can never know if Leander knew of Virgil’s existence. After all, until then, it had been an impossibility.”

“But did Julius even know about Leander’s non-magical mistress?” Alex asked.

“The only thing we can presume is that it was this threat, regardless of which way it was understood by Leander, that made the warrior release the Great Evil upon the mages,” Caius said. “Julius’s total lack of remorse was the final straw, and the cruel sentiments against Spellbreakers among the mages. Leander wanted to punish Julius for the terrible things he had done, and for the total genocide he had wrought. He wanted to punish all mages for not standing up and refusing to abide by my brother’s whims and prejudices. Julius had rendered your race as close to extinct as it was possible to be, with one sole beacon left, bearing the torch for the Spellbreaker race. Leander couldn’t allow that to go unpunished, and though his chosen weapon was extreme, it was desperation that spurred your ancestor on—desperation and hatred for my brother, who stood before him and watched him die in the most painful way possible. I ask you, young Spellbreaker, what would you have done differently, in his shoes? I know I would have done precisely the same.”

Alex wasn’t sure he could answer that. He tried to force down the rage he felt spiking up inside him, realizing who stood in that place now—in the place of that unborn child, with the weight of so much loss and destruction on their shoulders. The torch had been passed down the line, generation to generation, until it had fallen to his father.

Now, he understood, that beacon is me.

Chapter 20

Alex was as mesmerized as he was appalled, to hear such a tale from someone who had lived through it. It was the kind of story he had never expected to uncover, with Elias gone from his life and all literature on the Spellbreakers beyond his reach, if such books even existed. To hear it from someone who had stood in the center of two warring factions, able to tell it from Leander’s perspective and from Julius’s, made it feel like so much more than a story remembered from years ago. Fed through the vessel of Caius, every aspect seemed more tangible, more real, even the parts he already knew.

“A fair amount to take in, I know. You must forgive me—I do ramble on when given the opportunity. A solitary life is a lonely life, and I pounce on company when it arises.” Caius chuckled, draining the rest of the tea from his cup. For the first time, Alex noticed the blue pattern that snaked across the smooth porcelain, showing winged beasts and drooping willow trees.

His own teacup remained half-full and stone-cold. There had been too much excitement and intrigue to find a moment to finish his tea, though he realized suddenly that his throat had become arid, as if he had hardly dared to gulp throughout Caius’s telling of the tale. Reluctantly, he drank what was left in his cup, letting it soothe his dry throat, though it had lost its flavor and its warmth.

Even after everything he had been told, Alex still had questions, though he wasn’t sure how happy Caius would be about answering them. There were a few points along the way that had piqued Alex’s interest, and he just hoped the old man’s generosity would extend a little further.

“That’s quite a story,” Alex murmured. “Forgive me for asking, but what happened to your great love?”

He instantly regretted the question, as an expression of grief washed over the old man’s face, making him seem suddenly even more ancient, if such a thing was possible. Caius sighed heavily, running a hand through his flowing white locks. Deep down, Alex realized he already knew the answer, and he wanted to take the question back—but words, like arrows, could never be returned.

“Like all the others, my Guinevere perished. My brother ensured that she didn’t live—another punishment for my so-called crimes. You see now, there isn’t much more he can do to hurt me,” Caius whispered miserably, staring into the licking flames of the fire. “I keep her close to my heart, though,” he said, turning back to Alex.

From his shirt pocket, Caius retrieved a pocket watch. The silver oval glinted in the firelight, and Alex saw that it was engraved with tiny vines that swirled across the metal. When Caius pushed on a minuscule button, the pocket watch popped open, revealing a clock face on one side, ticking slowly, and a portrait on the other. The woman depicted in the image was beautiful, with large, almond-shaped eyes and flowing dark hair, though Alex couldn’t tell the color of anything from the sepia tone of the picture.

“She’s lovely,” Alex said, though it didn’t really do the woman justice.

“Smart too, the smartest woman I ever knew, and funny too. I never knew a sense of humor like hers,” Caius remarked wistfully, snapping the watch shut and returning it to his shirt pocket.

That description reminded Alex of someone, though he refused to look at her