The name hit Evander like a thunderbolt. He heard Viggo’s sharp intake of breath.
Solomon clenched his jaw so tight Evander heard his teeth grind.
“The monastery was purchased by a private buyer six months ago,” Schmidt said grimly. “A shell company with no traceable ownership. The monks were displaced, forced out of the only home they’d ever known.” His mouth twisted with distaste. “The few who resisted the takeover simply vanished.”
“Winchester,” Solomon growled.
Franz nodded, his face pale. “The timing fits.”
Schmidt unfolded the document. It was a map, marked with routes and annotations.
“I managed to obtain this from a surveyor who’d been hired to assess the property before the sale. It shows the location of St. Aegidius and the access routes.”
Rufus frowned. “I thought there was only one way to get to the monastery.”
“The new owners created a couple more. It seemed they had much to transport up the mountain.” Schmidt met Evander’s eyes. “If your friends have been taken, this is where you might find them.”
Evander took the map with hands that trembled slightly. He could hardly believe their stroke of luck. But then again, this whole endeavour had been touched by moments of uncanny providence from the very moment he began investigating Alastair Millbrook’s death, several months ago.
“Why are you helping us?” he asked Schmidt quietly. “If Winchester discovers what you’ve been investigating?—”
“Then let him come for me.” Schmidt’s voice was steel. “He took my daughter. He’s taken others. And now he has yourfriends.” His jaw tightened. “Some things are more important than safety, your Grace. I suspect you understand that better than most.”
Evander did all too well.
He turned to the others, the map clutched in his hand like a lifeline.
“We should coordinate a rescue mission with Richter.”
Viggo’s eyes were hard with determination. “Then we’d better move. Quickly.”
“The journey to the monastery will take several hours,” Schmidt warned. “The roads through the mountains are treacherous, even more so at night. You’ll need adequate preparation.”
CHAPTER 37
The mountain trackwound upward through a darkness so complete it seemed to swallow the light from the enchanted lanterns strapped to their saddles.
Viggo urged his horse onward, every muscle coiled with tension as the animal picked its way along the treacherous path. The Austrian Alps loomed around them, their peaks invisible against the starless sky, their presence a crushing weight of ancient stone and ice felt rather than seen.
They’d left Vienna three hours ago, pushing their mounts as hard as they dared on roads that grew narrower and more perilous with every mile. Schmidt and Laurenz had hastily arranged the horses for them, along with winter clothing and necessary equipment. The route they’d chosen to take was the original one the monks who’d built the monastery had used. It was now barely in use according to the surveyor who had provided Schmidt with the map.
The map now seared into Viggo’s memory.
The surveyor’s careful annotations had marked switchbacks, unstable sections, and, most importantly, the final approach to St. Aegidius.
Evander rode beside him, his face tense in the dim light. Behind them came Solomon, Rufus, and Fairbridge, their horses’ hooves clattering against loose stone.
“How much farther?” Solomon’s voice was rough, stripped raw by the cold and hours of silence and worry.
“Another hour, perhaps two,” Evander replied, his breath misting in the frigid air. “The monastery sits near the summit. This path will become too steep for the horses soon. We’ll have to continue on foot.”
Richter had been in the process of mobilising a full contingent from the Viennese Arcane Division when they’d left the city: twelve mages and twenty officers to be precise, all armed with anti-magic weapons. The inspector had promised to leave within an hour of them and would approach from the eastern route, which was longer but necessary for the larger force.
Viggo’s jaw tightened. He just hoped they got here in time to help them save Ginny and Shaw.
Both women were tough, resourceful, and more dangerous than most men would give them credit for. But against a dark mage who’d cheated death itself, who commanded shadow creatures and wieldedBlood Magic? They wouldn’t stand a chance.
Evander guided his horse closer to Viggo’s, their knees almost brushing.
