It was locked.
Coolness blossomed in the centre of Evander’s chest. He focused a burst of ice magic on the mechanism and cracked the lock.
“You’d make a good thief,” Viggo grunted as Evander carefully opened the door.
The stairs beyond descended into darkness.
Evander summoned a small flame to light their way instead of using the enchanted crystal in his hidden cane. The fire danced above his palm as they crept downward. The cold soon hit him, along with the dark magic he’d sensed in the building. Both grew stronger with each step, pressing against his senses like a physical weight. The scent ofNoctis Bloomwas unmistakable now, sweet and cloying.
The basement was larger than he’d expected. A series of interconnected chambers stretched out in the gloom, extending beneath the entire mansion.
“It’s freezing down here,” Viggo muttered.
Dread coiled through Evander. He recalled what Solomon had reported about the shipment that had come through the Seine dockyard.
They entered the first room off the stairs.
Crates were stacked against the walls, some open and spilling straw packing material.
A familiar metallic tang danced across Evander’s nostrils.
He moved to the nearest packing case and felt his stomach clench as he lifted the flame above it.
Inside, nestled in protective padding within a metal box packed with ice, was an object he recognised all too well.
“That’s theMagical Conduitdevice we found in Whitley’s secret chamber,” Viggo stated grimly, peering over his shoulder.
Evander examined the brass and glass contraption without touching it, his skin crawling at the foul magic emanating from within.
“They’re moving these through Paris,” he said slowly. He met Viggo’s troubled stare, his mind racing. “This is a distribution point.” He glanced at the crates filling the space around them. “And Brassard is a middleman.”
The Brute lowered his brows. “So ‘I’ is using Brassard’s connections to transport these? But to where?”
“Possibly Brussels, if Molyneux’s guess is accurate.” Evander’s heart slammed against his ribs at the enormity of the scheme they’d uncovered.
Viggo pursed his lips. “Why the ice?”
Evander hesitated and studied the diabolical contraption. “I’m not sure.”
Viggo moved to a workbench covered in papers.
“These are shipping manifests,” he said, leafing rapidly through the documents.
Evander joined him. Cold fingers danced down his spine.
The destinations were dock and train yards in Belgium, Austria, and Prussia, among other countries. His jaw tightened.
“They’re building some kind of network.”
“For what purpose?” Viggo muttered.
A door creaked somewhere in the darkness. They both froze.
Footsteps echoed through the basement—multiple sets, moving with purpose. Evander extinguished his flame and moved behind a stack of crates. He pressed himself against the cold brick wall, Viggo a solid presence beside him.
The footsteps had just passed the room where he and the Brute were hiding when a commotion reached Evander’s ears.
Someone was coming swiftly down the stairs. Not just someone but a couple of men by the sounds of things.
