“It sounded like they were employed; this wasn’t their idea. Who are Whitcombe and Hawthorne?” Juliette asked.
“A respected London pharmaceutical firm, known for its lucrative sulfa-drug line.”
“They don’t sound so respectable if they’re willing to pay people to commit murder.” Isla huffed.
“No, indeed,” Edmund agreed. “It seems we now know why—and who—has been preventing the development of penicillin, but we don’t know whom they hired.”
“You’re saying that widespread access to penicillin would decimate their profits?” Andrew asked.
“That’s exactly what I am saying.”
“And what about this book?” Juliette asked, her eyes wide with wonder at the item of historical significance lying on the table. “It sounds like instructions were left for them to follow. It’s so old, though.”
“This part I don’t understand,” Edmund said, moving closer to the book as the others gathered around him.
The page was worn and brown, the edges frayed from centuries of handling. A richly decorated border of intricate vines and flowers framed the text. Tiny gold leaf accents caught the dim light of the library, glinting like secrets waiting to be revealed. The letters were ornate, each stroke deliberate and precise, evoking the hand of a scribe who had spent countless hours crafting this page.
“It’s amazing,” Juliette whispered as she read a passage where the book had been left open. “Well, apart from the bits of instruction to perform dastardly deeds. But the history before us ... it’s incredible.”
She gently turned the pages, flicking back through Britain’s past. Isla saw entries and illustrations that mentioned the Great Fire of London, the Plague, the Gunpowder Plot, and even the War of the Roses. Each event was accompanied by what appeared to be illustrations and instructions for agents to influence outcomes, though the language changed from modern English to an older, forgotten tongue, rich with antiquated words and turns of phrase.
“Is this ... are these ...?” Andrew’s voice faltered, as if he were struggling to articulate what he was realizing. “I’ve always believed the history books about how these events unfolded. But this ... this book suggests that Aetherians had a hand in shaping these tragedies, guided and paid to bring devastation across the nation.”
Edmund looked on in horror as he realized how foul play had caused so much suffering for money.
“Can you read all of that, Juliette?” Isla asked, knowing her friend had studied Britain’s older languages.
Juliette leaned closer, her eyes scanning and carefully turning the pages. “Some of it, yes. The handwriting shifts as the centuries pass—this at the beginning of the book is Brittonic Celtic with a Latin influence. Before English existed, the people of Britain spoke Celtic languages.” Juliette traced the faded ink, her face awed by the history before her. “Only fragments of this remain readable to us.”
She turned more pages. “When the Romans conquered much of Britain, Latin became the language of government and trade, mostly used by the upper class. Most ordinary Britons were bilingual—Celtic and some Latin. It’s a shame we’ve forgotten such beautiful languages.”
Andrew leaned closer, murmuring, “I can barely make out half the letters ... it’s amazing anyone could read this at all.”
“It is a challenge,” Juliette said. “When the Romans withdrew, Latin lingered mostly in the church and learned circles, but then Germanic tribes—the Anglo-Saxons, Jutes, and later the Danes—invaded and settled. They brought their own West Germanic dialects. You can see here how these blended into Old English, also called Anglo-Saxon.”
“It’s fascinating that language itself evolves like a living thing,” Isla commented.
“Quite remarkable, isn’t it?” Juliette replied before moving on. “The Norman Conquest changed everything. The elite spoke French, the church still used Latin, and the common people spoke English—but all three languages blended. English grammar simplified, and vocabulary exploded with French and Latin loanwords.”
She turned a few pages. “Then comes Early Modern English. The Renaissance revived interest in classical Latin and Greek, bringing thousands of new words through scholarship, science, and literature. The printing press standardized grammar. Shakespeare’s English belongs here—still poetic and flexible, but recognizably modern. That I can read with ease.”
Edmund nodded, impressed. “And after that, modern English appears?”
“Yes,” Juliette said. “By then, grammar and spelling were standardized, dictionaries were published, and English spread globally through colonization, trade, and science.”
Her gaze softened as she studied the parchment. “It’s remarkable that these pages survived. The preservation is incredible—I’d wager a Terra had something to do with it.”
Andrew leaned over her shoulder, squinting at the page. “So, who’s writing in the book?
“It seems, “Edmund said, “at least in these modern entries, only a few select people have added instructions. Here at the end, I can see three distinct sets of handwriting. It appears that, in recent years, only three people have been giving out directives.”
“Whoever is writing in it is clever,” Andrew said, frowning at the pages. “The targets’ names are listed, but there’s not a single clue about who is actually carrying out the crimes. We can see who they’re after, but not who’s behind it.”
“It is a clever system,” Edmund said. “It seems the top organizers issue instructions to intermediaries, who never see their faces and receive the information only in writing. These intermediaries then pass the orders along to their subordinates. Everyone works in secret, behind closed doors, so if one is caught, they can never reveal the others.”
Juliette gently laid her pointer finger on part of the script.
“At least we now have a name. It states that this is the property of The Ossa Arcana.”
