Page 26

Philippa Scarborough’s tall figure was silhouetted against the morning light streaming through the windows of Whitley’s lab. She turned as they entered, her golden eyes taking in Viggo and Leon with a single, assessing glance from behind her wire-rimmed spectacles.

“Your Grace.” She greeted Evander with a slight inclination of her head before addressing Viggo. “Mr. Stonewall. It’s been a while since our last meeting.”

“Indeed it has,” Viggo said with the faintest of smiles and a nod. “Thank you for everything you did for Magnus.”

Mrs. Scarborough smiled back. “I was just doing my job.”

Evander introduced Leon.

The curse-breaker acknowledged the Frenchman’s “Enchanté” with a polite nod before gesturing towards the bookcase that had triggered the shadow creatures’ attack the day before.

“Shall we get to work? I’ve been examining the residual magic you two left behind and I believe I’ve identified the secondary ward protecting whatever lies behind this bookcase.”

Surprise jolted Evander. “Secondary ward?” He exchanged a glance with an equally astonished Leon. “We believed this was a nested ward with a shadow trap.”

“Indeed it is,” Mrs. Scarborough confirmed. “From Inspector Grayson’s report, Mr. Beaulieu’s Nullification Magic removed those, but there remains a subtle layer of magic beneath—a secondary trigger ward that activates only when the outer protections are fully breached.”

Viggo stared, puzzled. “ Nullification Magic? ”

Evander hesitated. “Leon possesses a rare type of magic that can undo almost all other magic and spells. It’s what saved us from danger yesterday.”

Viggo frowned at the Frenchman’s mildly smug look.

Evander studied the bookcase thoughtfully. “Whitley must have been incredibly paranoid to install such a trap. It must hide something important.”

“Can you disable the trigger ward?” Leon asked Mrs. Scarborough.

“Of course.” She extracted a small vial of silvery liquid from one of the many pouches at her belt. “This is a neutralising agent I designed specifically to counteract trigger wards.”

The curse-breaker approached the bookcase, her golden eyes narrowed in concentration as she traced the edges with her hand. She paused after a moment, fingers hovering over a small, almost invisible rune carved into the bottom-right corner of the frame.

“There.”

Evander squatted beside her and clenched his jaw as he stared at the magic symbol. “I completely missed that yesterday.”

“You’re not the only one, mon cher,” Leon grunted.

Mrs. Scarborough applied a single drop of the silvery liquid to the rune. It sizzled briefly upon contact and emitted a faint purple glow before fading to nothing.

“The ward is neutralised.” She straightened. “Now for the concealment charm itself.”

She placed her palm flat against the centre of the bookcase and murmured a spell Evander didn’t recognise, her pupils and fingertips glowing with the purple light of her magic. For a moment, nothing happened.

Shaw gasped when the bookcase vanished, revealing a dark opening in the wall behind it.

“Bloody hell!” Viggo mumbled.

“Where did the bookcase go?” Rufus asked, his eyes wide.

“It’s still here, in a manner of speaking,” Mrs. Scarborough explained. “It will return when summoned with the proper counter-charm.”

Viggo stepped forward and peered into the darkness beyond the opening. “There’s a passage.”

Evander’s pulse quickened as he joined him.

He removed the folding cane strapped to his forearm and twisted the small crystal at the top.

A soft white light emitted from it as the magic it contained activated: it illuminated a short, narrow, rough-hewn corridor that ended at a landing and a staircase that spiralled beneath the building.

He led the way inside, the crystal’s light casting their elongated shadows on the bare stone walls. Viggo followed close behind with Leon and Rufus while Shaw and Mrs. Scarborough brought up the rear.

The air grew cooler as they descended the stone steps. It carried with it the faint scent of mould, old parchment, and something metallic Evander couldn’t quite identify.

The staircase dropped some twenty feet before opening abruptly into a tenebrous, circular room. Evander’s heart raced as he stopped in the middle of it and raised his cane. Shaw spotted a pair of magic lanterns on the walls and activated them.

The shadows retreated as light illuminated the thirty-foot-wide chamber.

“Mon dieu,” Leon murmured.

Unlike the meticulously ordered laboratory they had just left, this space was chaotic.

The walls were covered with diagrams and notes, the arcane symbols scrawled across them almost glowing in the gloom.

The worktables were cluttered with more paperwork, instruments, and half-assembled devices, while the shelves on the walls were full of research journals and glass containers holding swirling, luminescent substances.

A filing cabinet stood next to a bookcase crammed with arcane tomes.

“What in the name of all that’s holy?” Rufus whispered, his usual brisk demeanour momentarily abandoned in the face of their discovery.

Shaw shivered. “This place gives me the willies.”

Evander moved towards the closest table, his scalp prickling with dread. “It seems Whitley was working on something he didn’t want the Institute to know about.”

Leon picked a couple of research journals from a shelf while Viggo crossed the floor to a wall where a series of anatomical diagrams had been pinned. His expression darkened as he examined them.

“What is this?”

Evander joined him. He frowned as he studied the drawings.

There were a dozen of them, all depicting the human brain structure.

“It looks like he was studying neurology for some reason,” he murmured, puzzled.

“Not just neurology.” Leon approached, his expression grim.

He indicated the journals he was holding.

“These contain information about thralls specifically.” His voice had grown tight with barely suppressed anger.

“It seems someone, or rather a group of people, performed detailed examinations of their brain structure. Dozens of them, in fact. This wasn’t Whitley’s doing, Evander.

” A muscle jumped in the Frenchman’s jawline as he glanced at the shelves.

“Half these journals belong to Professor Chevalier. If I’m correct, this stems from his research when he was part of Les Prophètes Illuminés. ”

Horror drenched Evander in a cold sweat. He glanced at Viggo.

The Brute had gone as still as stone.

“Les Prophètes Illuminés? ” Rufus repeated.

Leon hesitated before explaining briefly about the disbanded research group Chevalier used to belong to. “Please keep what I’ve revealed to you in the strictest confidence,” he finished stiffly. “If this secret gets out, it could damage diplomatic relations between our two countries.”

Shaw and Mrs. Scarborough exchanged a troubled look.

Viggo spoke in the fraught silence.

“Does that mean they killed thralls so they could study their brains?” His voice was devoid of emotion.

Evander’s throat tightened painfully at the silent rage radiating off him.

To Leon’s credit, he did not look away from the Brute’s hot gaze. “I do not know for certain. Vivisection is not legal in the Empire or the Continent. There is a strong possibility Chevalier and his colleagues studied the brains of thralls who died from natural causes.”

Viggo didn’t respond for a moment.

“I hope you’re right,” he finally ground out. “Because if I and other thralls find out they cut the skulls of living people, there will be a reckoning like none the world of magic has seen before!”

His threat hung heavily in the air, a stark reminder of the divide that still existed between them. It took all of Evander’s willpower not to reach out and comfort his lover.

“Your Grace.” Mrs. Scarborough approached, her golden eyes narrowed behind her spectacles as she read the paperwork she’d picked from a table.

“It wasn’t just thralls.” She showed them another set of diagrams. “They were studying the brains of mages as well. Specifically, those with rare or powerful abilities.”

Evander’s blood ran cold as he stared at the drawings. He met Leon’s troubled stare.

“It seems Cecillia and Headmaster Rigley were wrong about Whitley’s intentions, after all,” Rufus said, scowling.

Evander wasn’t so sure. Whitley’s behaviour before his disappearance had not been that of a man hiding his unethical research, but rather someone who was being targeted.

“There’s a good chance Whitley is innocent of any wrongdoing,” he said thoughtfully. “I think he stumbled upon something he shouldn’t have heard or seen.”

“I agree, your Grace.” Shaw hurried over from the filing cabinet, the drawer she’d been rifling through half open. “I found this at the bottom.” She handed him a sheet of paper.

Evander took it off her, the others gathering around him.

It was a letter addressed to Whitley, from Chevalier.

Mon cher ami, I fear I have been blinded by academic curiosity.

The implications of what our sponsor is suggesting go far beyond theoretical exploration, like you suspected.

I already carry a wealth of guilt for the actions of my past, foolish self.

I agree with you. We cannot, in good conscience, continue down this path.

We should gather the evidence of this research to show to the authorities and put a stop to this madman’s plans.

The letter was dated a month ago.

“Mon dieu,” Leon murmured, his face pale. “Just what kind of trouble did they get themselves into?!”

Evander’s heart slammed against his ribs as he reread the letter.

“Your Grace, could this be the announcement Whitley intended to make at the faculty dinner he failed to attend?” Shaw said sharply. “The one Cecillia mentioned?”

Evander clenched his jaw. “I believe you may be right. It would explain why he seemed scared out of his mind.” He looked around the chamber. “And it would account for this room.”

Rufus’s eyes widened. He looked around. “This is where he was gathering his evidence!”

Evander nodded grimly. “And Chevalier’s by the looks of it. It’s clear Whitley didn’t trust his colleagues, hence why he chose to hide it down here, far from prying eyes.”

“Does that mean he suspected someone in the Institute of being a mole for this sponsor?” Viggo said. He frowned at their stares. “What?”

“By jove, he’s right!” Rufus mumbled.

Evander silently cursed himself for not having arrived at the same conclusion sooner. “That would explain many things.”

The implications of their findings hung heavy in the air between them.

Evander came to a decision. “Shaw, get a team from the AFD to examine this room and gather all the evidence here. We should take everything to Scotland Yard posthaste. But discreetly, mind. We don’t want to alert whoever may be watching our movements.”

Shaw nodded.

They were about to leave the chamber when Mrs. Scarborough paused, her head tilted to one side as if listening to something the others couldn’t hear. She moved towards a section of wall that appeared unremarkable, one hand outstretched before her.

Evander stiffened, his foot on the bottom step. “What is it?”

“There’s something else here,” she murmured, her fingers tracing invisible patterns on the stone. “Another concealment charm.”

They regrouped around her.

“Can you undo it?” Evander asked tensely.

Mrs. Scarborough frowned. “I can. But he’ll do it faster.” She looked pointedly at Leon.

Leon’s face tightened. He nodded.

They moved back and gave the Frenchman room to work.

A wary expression clouded Viggo’s face as Leon’s magic charged the air with static. The charm shimmered into view.

“Fascinating,” Mrs. Scarborough murmured, her eyes gleaming behind her glasses.

“It won’t be if a bunch of shadow creatures come out after he’s finished,” Shaw said tartly. She shrugged at Evander and Rufus’s frowns. “What? It’s the truth.”

Evander’s pulse quickened when Leon nullified the charm.

They waited expectantly.

Nothing happened.

The Frenchman furrowed his brow and ran his hands over the stonework. “There must be some kind of hidden mechanism we need to engage.”

“Here, let me try something,” Viggo said.

He waited until Leon moved away, drew his arm back, and punched the wall with his fist. Stone crumbled under his knuckles, revealing a small compartment hidden inside the wall.

Evander groaned while Leon drew a horrified breath.

“What if you destroyed what was inside there?!” the Frenchman barked, incensed.

“I’m sure there are some clever people in this city who could fix it,” the Brute replied with no sign of compunction.

Something glinted inside the dark cavity.

Evander approached and moved the crystal on his cane close to the opening.

There was some kind of device inside the compartment.

“Be careful,” Viggo warned as Evander reached for it.

His fingers closed on something cold and hard.

The metallic scent he’d detected when he was coming down the stairs filled his nostrils as he removed the object.

It was a central glass cylinder connected to smaller vials through intricate copper tubing, all mounted on a brass base etched with runes he didn’t recognise. It fit in the palm of his hand.

Though it bore no resemblance to the Blood Siphon , the device made the hairs rise on Evander’s nape.