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Story: Stolen Magic
Musgrave shrieked and attempted to shield himself as the monsters protecting him were ripped away like cobwebs in a gale.He fell into the abyss once more.
Shadows erupted yet again from his body, encasing him in a cocoon of darkness.
“My master will find another way!”he shrieked triumphantly as he began to escape in the inky folds.“Our work will continue!”
Evander’s eyes narrowed to slits.“Not today,” he growled.
He gathered the four elements in his hands, compressed them into a single, devastating spear of pure elemental energy, and hurled it directly at the dark cocoon swallowing Musgrave.
It shattered like glass.
The elemental spear drove straight through the professor’s chest and emerged from his back in a spray of blood and corrupted magic.
He fell silently and was rapidly swallowed by the true darkness of the gulf.
The remaining shadow creatures throughout the chamber began to dissolve, their anchoring force severed with Musgrave’s death.Deprived of their leader, the surviving dark mages were swiftly subdued by the Met officers and mages who surrounded them.
Evander released a shuddering breath and gradually reined in his Archmage powers.The intense glow faded from his skin as he landed lightly on the platform.He swayed a little and steadied himself against the railing.
A powerful arm wrapped around his waist and propped him up.
Evander blinked and stared at Viggo.
“Simmons?!”he mumbled.
“He’s alive.”Viggo turned, his eyes dark with relief.
Solomon and Leon were kneeling beside the unconscious thrall in front of the smashed-up tank.Simmons spluttered and coughed violently as they removed the breathing apparatus from his nose and mouth, some colour returning to his face.Leon covered him with his coat.
The silver lines marking the thrall’s skin faded even as they watched.
Evander’s gaze shifted to the other tanks.He straightened, drawing on his remaining strength.
“Time to take care of the rest.”
Viggo nodded solemnly.
Chapter43
Musgrave’s townhousein Bloomsbury sat nestled between other elegant residences on a tree-lined avenue not far from the Royal Institute.In the soft light of dawn, it appeared deceptively ordinary, its white stone facade and black iron railings indistinguishable from the surrounding properties.
Evander studied the building with a frown where he stood beside Rufus on the pavement, his breath misting in the chilly morning air.After last night’s confrontation in the underground facility, he had expected to feel a sense of victory.Instead, a strange unease lingered at the back of his mind.
“Are we certain Musgrave lived alone?”he asked as they climbed the steps to the front door.
Rufus nodded.“According to the Institute’s records.He never married and his housekeeper only came thrice weekly.His neighbours confirmed the same.”
They were met by Shaw at the threshold, her normally cheerful demeanour subdued as she gestured them inside.The forensic mage had arrived with a team from the AFD at daybreak.
“You’ll want to see this straight away, your Grace,” she said quietly as she led them through an immaculate entrance hall.
The home was tastefully appointed with furniture that spoke of old money and conservative tastes, precisely what one would expect of a respected Institute professor.Evander could hear the sounds of the forensic team investigating the other floors of the property.
Shaw guided them to a study and headed for a door next to the fireplace.It looked oddly positioned and out of place with the decor, the wallpaper surrounding it darker than the rest of the walls.Evander noticed the bookcase beside it and the faint difference in the colour of the floorboards.
“Was this door hidden?”he asked with a frown.
“Yes.It was behind the bookcase.”
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