Page 69 of Arcane Entanglement

Dark wisps flickered into view all around Evander, the strands roiling as if tossed by a gale as they clashed with his powers. The sinister residue he’d revealed settled on the floor around him under the influence of his fire magic, forming a fine layer of inky dust.

Acid burned the back of Evander’s throat when he found himself standing on the outline of a body curled up on itself.

“Bloody hellfire!” Shaw croaked.

Rufus swallowed and cut his eyes to Evander. “Is that?—?”

Evander nodded curtly. “A Shadow Imprint.”

He could tell what Rufus and Shaw were thinking from their stunned expressions. The ability to manifest the location of a dead body—the place where a soul had recently departed this world—was the remit of the most powerful Archmages in the world.

“Miss Shaw, did you find a logbook on the premises? The one where Millbrook would have kept details of his recent projects and clients?”

Shaw gulped and shook her head. “No, your Grace. I found that surprising and made a note of it in my report.”

Evander exchanged a troubled look with Rufus.

“Whoever killed Millbrook probably came back for the logbook,” the inspector said darkly.

“That or they were looking for that crystal vial,” Evander muttered.

Shaw scratched her head. “There’s something I don’t get. Why go to all that trouble? Why kill him here, then take his body to the East End and make it look like he was murdered there?”

“To throw us off.” Evander’s voice hardened. “Had we not found that crystal vial, we may never have discovered Millbrook’s identity or the involvement of dark mages in his murder.”

“And even if we had, it would have been weeks after the fact,” Rufus added sourly. “The trail would have gone cold by then. And whatever their intentions were, they might already have achieved them.”

Evander’s stomach churned. Things were getting more dangerous with every passing day.

“We should talk to the Artificers and see if they’ve figured out what that crystal vial is. It’s a key component of those dark mages’ plans.” Evander clenched his jaw. “I am certain of it.”

But all thoughts of visiting the Artificers fled Evander and Rufus’s minds when they returned to Scotland Yard. An anonymous letter had been delivered to the Met in their absence. It claimed a dark magic cult was behind Alastair Millbrook’s death.

Chapter29

The church loomedon a low knoll between Mile End and Old Ford, a dark shape against the smog-filled sky of London's East End. Viggo studied its weathered stone walls and crumbling gargoyles from the vantage point where he lurked with Solomon and Finn, in an alley across the street.

The stench of the nearby slums hung heavily in the air, the sickening mix of human waste, unwashed bodies, and despair a stark reminder of the world they’d fought so hard to escape. Underlying the stink was the faint scent ofNoctis Bloomthat wafted towards Viggo on the occasional muggy breeze.

They watched as several cloaked figures slipped inside the church through a side door.

“Looks like our spy was right, boss,” Finn murmured. “That's the third lot we've seen enter in the last hour.”

Viggo frowned.

The lead onNoctis Bloomhad come from one ofNightshade's most reliable informants. Still, seeing it confirmed made his stomach sink. This church, once a sanctuary for the downtrodden, had seemingly become a den of dark magic. That they were going about their wretched business so brazenly in broad daylight told Viggo whoever was behind the scheme was either foolhardy or powerful enough to overcome his adversaries.

“Bet they’re all quaffing on purple powder in there,” Finn said with morbid glee.

“Noctis Bloomis poisonous when absorbed in sufficient quantities,” Solomon muttered. “I strongly hope they’re not quaffing on it.”

Viggo shot a surprised look his way.

Solomon caught his stare and shrugged. “I do pay attention to what you say. Also, remind me again why we're helping the bloody Met?" His voice carried a healthy dose of scepticism. "Since when do we stick our necks out for mages?"

Viggo clocked the troubled lines etched into his friend’s face. He understood the thrall’s wariness; trust didn't come easily to any of them, especially when it came to those with magic. Doubly so if they also wore a badge.

But things had changed.