They worked in tense silence, each taking a section of the circular room. Shaw handed out cotton gloves to everyone and began examining the older documents. Rufus focused on the more recent additions, papers that looked to be no more than a century old. Fairbridge moved along the far wall, his eyes scanning titles with remarkable speed. Viggo took the opposite side, his large hands carefully lifting out precious tomes.
Evander crossed the floor to the two desks. He found nothing of relevance to their search and had just turned away to examine another section of the hidden library when a trace of magic danced across his senses. He paused and twisted on his heels.
There was something there. Something almost intangible.
Evander frowned and crouched to examine the closest table.
His fingers grazed a knot in the wood beneath the surface.
“Evander?” Viggo said in a puzzled voice from across the room.
“There’s something here,” Evander murmured.
He startled when he registered a vestige of fire magic from the irregular structure.
Could it be?—?!
Heat rushed down his arm and through his hand, sending magic sparks into the knot. It gave under his fingers.
The flagstone underneath the table groaned. Evander moved back hastily as a small section of the floor receded, revealing a shallow cavity. Within the hidden compartment was a small book bound in faded red leather.
Evander’s mouth went dry.
Everyone gathered around him as he carefully picked it up and rose to his feet. The pages were yellow but intact. His heart stuttered when he read the title, stamped in gold leaf that had long since tarnished.
De Origine et Historia Codicis Carmesini.
“On the Origin and History of the Crimson Codex,” Evander mumbled.
He opened the book.
The text was in Latin, dense and archaic. Evander’s classical education served him well as he scanned the pages, his pulse quickening with each passage.
Fairbridge drew a sharp breath where he read over his shoulder.
“It’s a chronicle,” he murmured. “Written by someone who claimed to have seen the Codex themselves. They describe it as—” He squinted at a particularly cramped passage.
“A repository of forbidden knowledge,” Evander continued numbly. “Rituals for transferring magical essence between beings. Methods for amplifying power beyond natural limits.” He looked at Viggo, his knuckles whitening where he held thebook. “This is exactly what Musgrave and his associates were trying to recreate.”
A muscle jumped in the Brute’s jawline.
Evander turned the page, dread sending ice skittering down his spine. “There’s more. It says the Codex was created by someone called—” He froze.
“—the Primus Archimagus,” Fairbridge finished.
They exchanged a stunned look.
“The First Archmage,” they murmured as one.
“So they were right?” Shaw said hoarsely. “The Codex was written by the first Archmage?!”
Rufus frowned. “That would make the Codex?—“
“Ancient,” Evander finished heavily. “Older than any magical text we know of.” He leafed through to the back of the book. It ended without revealing the Codex’s actual location. Frustration churned his stomach as he glanced around the secret archives chamber. “There has to be more.”
Fairbridge discovered the next clue. It was a single sheet of paper that had slipped underneath a bookcase containing more recent documents.
“You’ll want to see this,” he said, his voice uncharacteristically tight.
