The Secret of Spellshadow Manor 6 by Bella Forrest (motivational books for men TXT) 📗

to take. Over and over, he repeated them, not wanting a single one to be forgotten.

For a moment, the images flashed back in time again, to a much younger Virgil running through the labyrinth beneath Falleaf House. There were two men running beside him, one younger, one older, their eyes set dead ahead. The younger one was clutching a handful of letters. This one, Alex didn’t recognize, but the other, the older man… With an astonishing realization, he knew him to be Malachi Grey. As vile as Finder had been, Alex knew the pair of them had started out on good terms—he had seen it, in their conversation in the grounds of Spellshadow, when Malachi had agreed to let Virgil do whatever he needed to do, to find more essence out in the real world. However, the younger man was of more interest to Alex. Seeing as there were only three of them, Alex guessed it was the younger who had given up his life so Virgil could take the book from the vault.

More and more images flashed in quick succession, showing moments in Virgil’s life. It seemed the Head’s life had, for the most part, been a stretched-out tale of woe. Despite all the dark memories Alex held of him, it was hard not to pity the man who had been lied to since the day he was born. What chance had he had to be more than what Julius had made him? As more images flashed into Alex’s mind, interspersed with some of his own, Alex realized that the mist was taking some of Virgil’s soul too, the energies mingling inside Alex’s head before being torn away. How it was happening, he didn’t know, but he had a feeling Elias was somehow involved, perhaps acting as a buffering agent and preventing the mist from taking the whole soul from either of them.

It was a peculiar and painful sensation, having half of himself forcibly ripped out of his body, slicing out of his skin, being drawn through by the clawing hands of the mist creatures. But with the images, the pain faded somewhat. The more that flashed through his mind, the less he felt the agonizing tear of his soul’s removal.

Still, Alex was ready for it to be over.

A loud explosion boomed through the cavern, the roof splitting, the rocks cracking all around, the ground rumbling louder than it ever had before. Alex began to panic, convinced this was the final step in the Great Evil’s ploy to free itself. His legs were shaking, his ears filled with the roaring crash of the earthquake trembling beneath his feet.

Suddenly, the mist cleared, and Alex saw the ground ahead begin to cave in. More images flowed unbidden into his head, but these were not of Virgil’s life, nor his own. They were of the other three pits, their gaping mouths filling with rock and debris as they folded in on themselves, the released mists rushing backward, disappearing back down into the ground, where they could do no further harm to anyone. Parts of the havens were crumbling too, in response to the destruction of the Great Evil. Large cracks ricocheted up the sides of the Stillwater villa, while the roof of the library collapsed at Spellshadow, and two turrets plummeted into the dried-up moat of Kingstone Keep. The tremors rippled through all the havens, showing him the crumbling walls of buildings he’d never even seen. They belonged to old havens he’d never visited, each quake sounding a victory for the spell Alex had done.

Finally, the flashing images slowed, and the shaking ground came to a standstill, just for a while. The whole world twisted away, swirling upward in a kaleidoscope of stretching shapes and colors, like the moment before Storm burst through a barrier between realms. When it snapped back, the world around Alex was a completely different one, though Virgil was still standing beside him, gripping his hand.

Rolling away to either side was the battlefield where the Great Evil had been created in the first place. Troops of weary mages were standing in clusters, their eyes fixed upon the gallows on which Alex and Virgil now stood. In front of them, Leander Wyvern hung from chains, his burning, silver eyes looking straight into theirs, a smile playing upon his lips.

“For our people… for my children… for all those who perished,” the great man whispered, before bowing his head.

As soon as the last word was spoken, the world turned inside out again, the landscape racing sharply back to the pit room with a jolt. It didn’t seem like anyone else had seen them go. The vision of Leander Wyvern was reserved exclusively for them. Regardless, the sight of the great Spellbreaker had made Alex understand what they had done.

They had completed the spell, and rid the magical realm of the Great Evil. Not only that, but it looked like he and Virgil might just live to tell the tale.

The only problem was, the silver mist had yet to dissipate. From the quaking ground, the flashing images, the tearing of his soul, and the vision of Leander Wyvern, Alex was almost one hundred percent certain they had achieved what they set out to do, but he could still feel strands of misty energy writhing inside him, flowing through his veins. The Great Evil had been defeated, but it didn’t seem to be going anywhere.

Perhaps there were more trials still to come? Alex hoped not.

With a violent tug, Alex felt the energy within him pull away, a darker silver mist gathering in a cloud above his head. Howling faces emerged from the mist, black mouths opening in a piercing scream that shook the very foundations below. As the scream faded, the cloud surged toward Julius, the paler mist following suit.

Alex felt a connection still linking him with the mist. He closed his eyes, focusing on it, leading it in the direction of the one who had made Leander Wyvern release the spell in