“Stand back,” Evander whispered urgently.
He waited until they were clear, summoned a flame, and applied it to the wall. Symbols sparked into life, forming a tapestry of runes that drew a gasp from Rufus and had Viggo and Fairbridge’s eyes widening.
Shaw fist-pumped the air with a satisfied grin.
Evander watched, transfixed.
The wall unravelled silently, stone shifting one by one until a doorway appeared.
Viggo’s voice jolted them into motion.
“Let’s go!” the Brute urged.
They darted through the opening. It closed behind them with nary a whisper just as the guards turned the corner.
“Did they see us?!” Rufus hissed.
“I don’t think so,” Fairbridge muttered.
They waited breathlessly, ears straining for the sounds of shouts and an alarm being raised.
None reached them.
Evander swallowed and turned to examine the space they found themselves in. Enchanted sconces lined a short passage. They throbbed with a golden glow that lit a staircase spiralling into darkness.
They made their way cautiously down it, Evander in the lead.
Shelves appeared, books lining an ancient library built into the very bones of the circular pit they descended. Wonder filled Evander when he recognised archaic titles thought to be long lost. Viggo appeared similarly enraptured by the vast tomb of knowledge around them.
They reached the bottom, passed through reading rooms filled with more dusty tomes, and filed down another staircase, this one narrower than the last. They negotiated more silent chambers before finally finding themselves in front of a massive tapestry depicting the founding of Charles University.
Evander’s heart slammed against his ribs as he checked the map. The secret chamber was in front of them. He carefully pushed the heavy fabric aside.
Behind it was a door made of ancient oak, its surface carved with protective runes that glowed faintly in the darkness.
An expectant hush befell them as he inserted the key in the lock and channelled his fire magic once more.
For a moment, nothing happened.
Then the runes across the surface of the door flared bright gold, the light so dazzling it made them squint.
There was a soft click.
The door swung open with a groan of protesting hinges.
Evander’s breath locked in his throat.
Beyond lay a staircase descending into gloom.
The shadows receded with a suddenness that made Shaw jump and Rufus curse. Evander’s eyes widened as enchanted orbs flared brightly into life where they hung from a ceiling.
The secret archive of the Prague Library stretched below them, at the bottom of the steps.
It was smaller than Evander had expected—a circular chamber some thirty feet across, with shelves carved directly into the stone walls and two tables with chairs. But what it lacked in size, it made up for in density. Every available surface was crammed with books, scrolls, and loose papers, some so old they looked like they might crumble at a touch.
They headed down the steps.
“Spread out,” Evander ordered. “Look for anything related toLes Prophètes Illuminésor the Crimson Codex. And be careful. We don’t want to damage any of these texts.”
