Seven fragments. Seven pieces of forbidden knowledge scattered across Europe. And somewhere in this city, the Helnwein family probably guarded one of them.
“You’re brooding,” Viggo murmured beside him.
“I’m thinking.”
“Same thing, with you.”
Evander didn’t argue. His gaze drifted to the window, watching Vienna’s grand architecture slide past. The Ringstrasse curved past magnificent public buildings—the Opera House, the Museums, the Parliament—each seemingly trying to outdo its neighbours in splendour. It was beautiful, undeniably so.
But beneath the beauty and the city’s bones ran a current of old magic, ancient and complex in ways that London’s magical infrastructure couldn’t match.
Their hotel was an elegant establishment on the Kärntner Ring, its façade adorned with carved cherubs and gilded flourishes. The suite Winterbourne had arranged for them comprised several connected rooms that would allow them to work and meet privately.
Inspector Klaus Richter, their contact in the Vienna Arcane Division, knocked on the door an hour after they’d settled in. He was a solidly built man in his forties, with blonde hair cropped close to his skull and a neatly trimmed beard that lent him the air of a university professor. His handshake was firm, his manner brisk and businesslike—a man who clearly valued efficiency over pleasantries.
“Duke Ravenwood.” He took the seat Evander indicated in the suite’s sitting room. “Commander Winterbourne speaks highly of you. I only wish we were meeting under better circumstances.”
“As do I, Inspector. Thank you for agreeing to assist us.”
Richter waved this away. “We have a mutual enemy. That makes us allies.” His blue eyes swept over the assembled team. “I’ve read Commander Winterbourne’s briefing. I must confess, I would have thought all of it an exaggeration until a few weeks ago.”
Viggo frowned. “What changed?”
“We began detecting traces of dark magic throughout the city. Or rather, we went looking for it after we received Winterbourne’s report and found it, much to our regret.” Richter paused. “No trace of dark magic was identified during the initial investigation into the disappearance of the three research mages who went missing from the University of Vienna. The men and woman you subsequently recovered from the facility beneath the London Royal Institute for the Arcane. We reopened the investigation.” He withdrew a folder from his coat and handed it to Evander. “This is a summary of our findings. They involve the three locations where the research mages were last seen. The signatures are unlike anything in our records. Except, they match what your forensic mages found at the Royal Institute for the Arcane in London.”
Evander opened the folder and scanned the contents with a frown. He passed it to Shaw, who scrutinised the report.
“The analysis is unmistakable, your Grace,” the forensic mage confirmed with a sharp nod. “This is the same as London.”
“There’s more,” Richter continued grimly. “Rumours have surfaced in certain underground circles. Whispers about this Codex you’re after. A name came up.” His jaw tightened. “Mordecai Winchester.”
Ginny lowered her brows. “Who is he?”
“Was. Or so we believed.” Richter’s voice hardened. “Winchester is an English mage who was executed ten years ago in this city for killing two of his research associates and an alchemist. The evidence was overwhelming. He went to the gallows. I witnessed the hanging myself.”
A chill raised goosebumps on Evander’s skin.
Fairbridge narrowed his eyes. “I remember the name.” He met Evander and the rest of the team’s puzzled stares. “Thematter was never revealed to the public,” he explained. “Doing so might have caused a diplomatic incident.”
“Several witnesses now claim to have seen Winchester here, in Vienna,” Richter said. “Very much alive.”
“A man back from the dead,” Solomon muttered. “That’s never good.”
“No. It is not.”
A fraught silence settled over the room.
“Inspector,” Evander said carefully, “we have reason to believe a family here in Vienna may possess information relevant to our investigation. The Helnweins. What can you tell us about them?”
Richter’s expression grew cautious.
“I wondered when that name would arise,” he muttered.
Evander’s stomach clenched. “You know them?”
Richter took a measured breath. “It seems serendipity is on your side, your Grace. I didn’t see the need to disclose this in my correspondence with Commander Winterbourne since it wasn’t relevant at the time.” He met Evander’s gaze steadily. “I am connected to the Helnweins. Through my mother.”
Evander stared. “You’re related to them?”
