“Yes.” Pavel produced a pouch from his coat. From it he extracted a brass key engraved with intricate runic symbols and a small roll of parchment. “These will help you find it.”
“Cor,” Shaw mumbled, her eyes sparkling.
Pavel unfolded the parchment on the table. “This is a map to the archive.”
Evander stared. The paper was blank.
“It’s empty,” Solomon said, confused.
Evander’s scalp prickled at what he sensed from the paper and the key. A faint magical residue. One that was familiar to him as breathing.
“Fire magic,” he murmured.
The others looked at him, puzzled. Fairbridge grasped his meaning first. His eyes widened slightly before he directed an admiring stare at the map.
Pavel nodded briskly. “You have keen senses, your Grace. This map is enchanted to reveal what it contains when fire magic is applied to it. It will track your position and guide you to the secret archive. The same principle applies to the key. Itwill only unlock the door when the runes engraved upon it are activated by fire magic.” He frowned faintly. “Considering how rare fire mages are and how zealously guarded this map and key have been, you can understand why few people have ever gotten inside the place.” He pinned Evander with a penetrating stare. “Boele tells me you can wield that magic, among others.”
Evander nodded, his heart racing.
“Good.” Pavel hesitated. “One more thing. There have been others asking about the archives recently. They came to the library four days ago, demanding access. They left when they were refused by the guards and the chief archivist.” His jaw tightened. “But I fear they may have been watching the building ever since. Several of my associates have seen them skulking around.”
Evander exchanged a loaded glance with Viggo.
They had to be “I”’s agents.
“I don’t know what you’re looking for in those archives, Duke Ravenwood, nor do I wish to know,” Pavel said grimly. “But whatever it is, you’re not the only ones hunting for it.”
CHAPTER 30
The Prague Libraryloomed out of the fog like a slumbering giant, its Gothic spires and baroque flourishes rendered silver by the moonlight. Evander studied the building from the shadows of a nearby alley, his pulse steady despite the tension coiling in his gut.
“Was it wise to leave Ginny and Solomon at the hotel, your Grace?” Shaw whispered beside him.
“Yes. They’ll provide extraction if things go wrong.”
Evander’s shoulders knotted when the pale trails ahead shifted.
Fairbridge and Rufus materialised from the mist.
“The main entrance is guarded,” Fairbridge murmured. “Two men. Armed.”
“There’s a side door near the eastern wing,” Rufus added quietly. “Servant’s entrance, by the look of it. It’s less visible from the street. There’s only one guard there.”
Evander nodded. “That’s our way in.”
Viggo’s imposing figure loomed out of the gloom a moment later.
“Area’s clear,” the Brute reported. “I couldn’t see anyone suspicious lurking around.”
Evander had already confirmed the lack of dark mages in the area with his magic.
They waited until the city’s church bells chimed midnight before making their move, slipping through the fog like ghosts. Fairbridge used his Enchanter magic to make the guard at the side entrance quietly leave his post and wander out into the night.
The door was locked. Viggo made short work of the mechanism with a lock-pick. Cracking it with ice magic wasn’t an option: they needed to leave no trace of their visit.
They entered the building and found themselves inside a narrow corridor that smelled of dust and old paper.
“Stay close,” Evander breathed. “And stay quiet.”
