The Breaker (The Secret of Spellshadow Manor #2)(7)

He was about to tiptoe backward, away from her, when he remembered the note in his pocket—the torn piece of paper that had been sandwiched between the pages of the book Elias had given him, the Historica Magica. By now, he almost knew the words by heart: Of our havens, nine remained. Of those nine, we now have four. If you are magical, seek these places. Kingstone Keep. Falleaf House. Stillwater House. Spellshadow Manor.

Glancing down at Ellabell, Alex wondered whether to ask her about the note and its cryptic wording. She was good at that sort of thing, he recalled. He had just put his hand in his pocket, fingers curling around the little folded square, when she looked up.

“Alex?” she said, a little surprised.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to disturb you,” he replied.

“Not at all—just catching up on some light reading.” She smiled, lifting the hefty cover of her book to show the title A Comprehensive Guide to Botanical Properties and Natural Remedies.

“Any good?” Alex asked.

“Bestseller,” Ellabell replied, her blue eyes sparkling with amusement. “What’re you up here for?”

Fingers still curled around the small square of paper, Alex found that he really wanted to tell her about the note and see what she had to say. Yet something held him back. He remembered the curious look she had given him the last time they’d spoken, and her observations about secrets. Unfurling his hand, he decided he would keep his own secret a little longer—just until he could be sure he could trust the intelligent young woman who sat on the floor before him.

“I’m just looking for a few books on… mechanics, clockwork, that type of thing,” Alex said, after a stilted pause that lasted just a little too long.

Ellabell looked up at him with that same curious expression, one eyebrow slightly raised—a look that told Alex she knew he was keeping secrets still, at least from her. She got to her feet, brushing the front of her skirt. Alex thought she was about to walk past him and leave, but she reached up to one of the taller shelves instead and brought down a slim, leather-bound book, handing it to him with a small smile.

“Wrexham’s Introduction to Clockwork. A good place to start,” she explained as Alex took the book from her.

“Thanks.”

“No worries. There are a few other good ones. Worth a read, if that’s your cup of tea, anyway,” she said, beginning to write a list of titles on a small scrap of paper, torn from one of her notebooks. On it were recommendations for other mechanical books, neatly written in her precise, cursive script, which was elegant and distinctly feminine.

“Thank you. This is great.” Alex smiled as he read the titles.

“No problem. Good to see you taking an interest in something,” she teased, gathering her books from the floor. There was a mighty stack of them; it looked like Ellabell might topple under the sheer weight, but she held them easily, balancing them like a skilled circus performer.

“Hey, don’t let me disrupt you if you want to keep reading,” Alex said.

“I needed to get going anyway,” she told him.

“Well, can I at least give you a hand?”

“No, I’m good, thank you.” Ellabell moved away, toward the edge of the stack. “Happy hunting!” Then she jumped over the banister. Alex knew she was capable of magic, but all the same, he found himself running to the edge, looking down just in time to see her land gracefully, her books still neatly stacked. She flashed a look back up at him, as if to say, See?

Seeing that Ellabell was safely on the ground, Alex tucked the tan leather book under his arm and clambered up another floor or two, walking to a small alcove at the end of one stack. In the alcove sat a giant, dusty tome—the library Index. He heaved the gigantic pages to the letters he was looking for, flurries of dust flying up into his face as the rest of the pages came down with an unceremonious slam. First, he looked under ‘H,’ hoping to see the word ‘haven.’ An obvious choice, but Alex was optimistic. The word itself was not there. Undeterred, he tried the other three names instead: Stillwater House, Falleaf House, and Kingstone Keep. Half expecting there to be nothing, Alex was surprised to find two or three books per name, preserved among the stacks. He quickly wrote down the numbers, his heart pounding with excitement, as he raced off through the towers to find the corresponding books.

The first ones should have been up on the very top floor of the second tower. But, as he ran his finger along the numbered spines, his hand stopped short at a small but noticeable gap. Between the numbers, three books were missing—the three books that had appeared under the name Stillwater House in the Index. Frustrated, Alex checked the next set of numbers, and climbed back down to the second floor of the tower, walking along until he came to the right section. Again, where Falleaf House ought to have been, there was a small but noticeable absence of books. Trying not to lose faith, he walked over to the third tower and climbed to the very top, where the last of the books should have been. He didn’t even need to see it as he neared. The gap was obvious; there were no books left on Kingstone Keep. They had all been removed. On purpose, Alex knew, clenching his jaw in annoyance as he felt the familiar burn of rage toward the manor and the man—or thing—who ran it.

Defeated, Alex plucked the other square of paper from the pocket of his pants, deciding to scavenge for information on the Spellbreakers instead. Slowly, he clambered back up the endless ladders to the alcove with the Index tucked away, and scanned the ‘S’ section until he came to the word he was looking for. When he had first come to check for any information on Spellbreakers, after hearing the word for the first time, he had been surprised to even see it listed, but it had been there, clear as day. It still was, although there were limited books on the subject. Only four, to his knowledge, and he had already been through one of them without much success. But there was enough uncharted territory to keep him busy for a while. Three books remained, begging to be read. He scurried up to the correct floor and plucked the further three tomes from the shelf, wishing he didn’t have to climb back down one-handed with them tucked under his other arm.