They emerged silently from the shed, the wind masking the sound of the creaking door.
The first guard registered their presence just as Viggo crept up behind him. The Brute’s fist connected with the man’s temple before he could raise an alarm, dropping him like a stone. Solomon took out the second guard just as ruthlessly.
They dragged the bodies into the shadows next to the outhouse and paused to take stock of their surroundings.
The monastery loomed against the mountain ahead, a complex of buildings linked by cloisters arranged around courtyards.
They located the door they’d identified as their best point of entry, Fairbridge skilfully taking care of the lock. They were inside a narrow, cold corridor a moment later.
“Which way?” Rufus whispered.
Evander consulted Schmidt’s map, his brow furrowed in concentration. “The monastery has three levels below ground. If Winchester is holding hostages, the monastic prison on the lowest floor is the most likely place.” He traced a finger along the surveyor’s annotations. “But there are also the prayer cells, in the eastern section, on the top floor.” He folded the map and met each of their gazes in turn. “We need to cover both locations. If we stay together, we risk missing Ginny and Shaw entirelyor walking into Winchester and his men with no way to flank them.”
Viggo’s jaw tightened. He still hated the idea of splitting up.
“I’ll take the dungeons,” he said. “Solomon, you’re with me.”
Solomon nodded curtly, his expression hard with determination.
“Take Fairbridge,” Evander said. “His magic might come in handy.”
Fairbridge and Viggo both frowned at this.
Evander sighed at their expressions. “I’m an Archmage. That alone makes up for the fact that there will be just me and Rufus going upstairs.”
Viggo couldn’t exactly argue with this. Fairbridge still looked unhappy but gave a curt nod.
“Remember, whoever finds Ginny and Shaw first, get them out.” Evander’s voice brooked no argument as they prepared to part ways. “Their safety comes first.”
Viggo caught Evander’s arm before he could turn away.
“Be careful,” Viggo murmured.
“You too.” Evander’s hand briefly covered his. “I’ll see you soon.”
Then he was gone, disappearing down the corridor with Rufus at his heels.
CHAPTER 38
Viggo watcheduntil the darkness swallowed them before looking at Solomon and Fairbridge.
“Let’s go.”
They moved through the monastery like shadows, every sense straining for danger. Though they occasionally heard dim voices in the distance, they didn’t see anyone.
The building was a labyrinth of twisting passages and forgotten chambers, some still bearing the remnants of religious devotion; faded icons, dusty altars, the skeletal remains of devotional candles. Others had been transformed into something far darker. Viggo passed doorways that reeked of blood andNoctis Bloom, rooms where arcane symbols had been carved into every surface, their lines still glistening a dark crimson from whatever terrible ritual had been performed within what was once a sanctified space.
They found an opening leading underground and headed down stone steps.
Torches flickered in iron sconces, casting dancing shadows that made Viggo’s nerves sing with tension. All it would take was one of Winchester’s henchmen to cross their path and the alarm would be raised.
The walls soon grew slick with moisture and age, the air colder and more forbidding. Fairbridge’s shoulders knotted when they reached the second level.
Viggo shot a tense glance at him. “Dark magic?”
The spy nodded. “The place reeks of it.”
Viggo soon picked up on the foul smell Fairbridge had detected, the stench thick enough to taste. Solomon wrinkled his nose.
