“What does that mean?” Isla asked.
“Oh, do I know something you don’t?” Juliette asked, looking delighted as she glanced between Andrew and Isla. Beaming when they didn’t answer, she said, “It’s Latin for ‘secret bones’ or ‘hidden skeletons.’”
“So now we know the name of this criminal network,” Edmund grumbled.
“It also says that this book is to be handed down from generation to generation,” Juliette continued, her finger tracing the ornate script. “A reminder that one needn’t be Fated to have power. Words themselves carry power.” She huffed. “Well ... perhaps theyare criminals, but clever ones. I have to agree with them—words do hold incredible power.”
“What else does it say?” Isla asked, leaning closer.
“The secrets within these pages will lead future generations to wealth and prestige far beyond what ordinary people could achieve,” Juliette read. “Through this knowledge, they may manipulate the world, indulging in its pleasures, living a single lifetime unconstrained by the bounds that govern ordinary lives. They may not return to live again as the Fated do, but in a single lifetime, they will live far beyond the means of those who allow love to bind them. Those who let attachment weaken their ambitions will never experience true power over others without restraint.”
“Are these the people who wanted me to join them?” Isla asked, horrified.
Juliette shuddered. “I don’t know—but a life without love? How tragic!” She flicked through to the most recent pages again. “It’s not just instructions for orchestrating these tragedies—they also contain secrets about powerful leaders, lists of key players to bribe, and methods to manipulate influence. It even has notes on our current leaders. The prime minister’s name is here, along with the man you mentioned, Edmund—the government official who walked away from his job. He was manipulated to stop working.”
Isla saw Edmund’s jaw bulge as he took in the implications and the widespread power this group had.
“It doesn’t mention the attack in the corridor that first night you received your Sigil mark or the swimming pool incident,” Juliette said, scanning the page. “But it does reference Ray—and an order to eliminate both him and anyone connected to his work. It also details the kidnapping.”
Isla felt Andrew’s arm wind protectively around her as Juliette recounted each event.
“It’s a pity there are no names,” Andrew said, his tone tight. “Still, this links Ray’s murder and the kidnapping. Once we uncover who’s behind it, we’ll see them brought to justice.”
“I’m torn,” Edmund said, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. “I want to take this book as evidence—and then destroy it. But part of me wonders if leaving it here could work to our advantage. They might continue passing instructions, and we could intercept them to prevent further disasters.”
“I can’t believe the library has become a hub for villains to exchange notes,” Juliette muttered, disgust clear on her face.
“Whoever is responsible for writing in this book already knows its secrets. Taking it away won’t stop them from using the information if they wish,” Andrew said. “For now, it may be wiser to hide it. That way, we might actually find a way to stay one step ahead.”
Edmund’s gaze flicked from Andrew to the two unconscious men, still bound in ice. “You’re right. We don’t know who’s truly behind this, only that it’s a well-run organization. This feels less like a simple chain of command and more like a spider’s web—the kind where, even if you cut away a few threads, the creature at the center remains untouched. We may crush this case, but if wealthy clients are pulling the strings, then it won’t be just the medical field under threat.”
“Agreed,” Andrew replied. “But for now, we focus on what’s before us. Keeping Isla and the other targets safe. We know these particular men won’t be organizing an attack on Professor Smith any longer. I’d take that as a victory.”
“I still don’t understand why I’m a target,” Isla said quietly. “I worked with Ray in the lab, yes—but not on penicillin.”
“We will find out, Isla.” Edmund held her gaze, steady and certain, until she nodded back at him.
Chapter Thirty-One
The four of them walked to the jagged opening in the library floor and peered down into the darkness. The cool air rising from below smelled faintly of stone and damp earth.
Juliette summoned flames to her palm, the light spilling down into the gaping hole. The glow caught, flickering over a small cavern below.
“I can’t believe this has been here all this time,” Juliette breathed.
“I want to go down,” Edmund said. “Andrew, can you create a ladder? It doesn’t look too far, but I’d rather not twist an ankle.”
Without a word, Andrew lifted his hand and the air shimmered with a fine mist. A glistening ice unfurled downward, the rungs forming neatly into a solid structure, catching the light in cold reflections.
Nodding his thanks, Edmund descended the ladder. Juliette shot Isla a look, and with a silent agreement they both stepped forward to follow
“Edmund, be a dear,” Juliette called down, all innocence in her tone, “and step away from the bottom of the ladder—we’d rather keep our dignity intact as we climb down.”
There was a frantic shuffle below, as if he’d practically leapt aside. Isla stifled a laugh, though she heard Juliette snicker.
The ladder was cold, but it didn’t hurt her hands; still, she had to be careful—it was slick in places. One by one, they climbed down, Andrew close behind, Juliette directing her glowing orbs to float as she moved, leaving both hands free to grasp the rungs.
The deeper they went, the thicker the air grew—old dust and secrets pressed close. When Isla reached the bottom, she looked around the small cavern. The walls were lined with carved alcoves still holding ancient scrolls and relics. Fragments of Latin inscriptions clung to the stonework, half swallowed by lichen.
