I navigated the maze of bookshelves, scanning the titles as I went. An impressive assortment, though half of the collection contained nothing more than superstitions. I opened my Sight to scan the tomes and saw no trace of magic. Tucked away in the back of the room was a desk. An ornate affair of solid, polished mahogany that made me more than a little envious. Papers, ledgers, and leather-bound journals sat haphazardly across its surface, the only chaos in the house so far. Mathers’s meticulous organization failed to reach his work and research, apparently. Sitting in the chair, I searched through everything. Reports of business dealings, correspondences with out-of-country acquaintances, and even musings and drafts of rites meant for the Golden Dawn, but nothing that screamed “blooded magician.” I bent to search the drawers but found them locked. I kindled will, intent upon remedying that.
Something moved in the room with me.
The soft shuffle of feet approached, and I slipped from the chair to the floor. Mathers perhaps, or one of his servants.
My heart pounded in my chest, and I shook my head. No reason to fear. Whoever entered couldn’t see my soul flame, and I saw no candlelight. I peeked around the edge of the desk. No one. I crawled toward the nearest stacks, intent to lose myself in them. I’d gone no more than a foot when the point of a blade pressed against the back of my skull
“You don’t belong here,” said the woman holding the blade.
I knew this voice.
“Ms. Simpson?”
“Crowley. Why doesn’t it surprise me to find you here?” she said, her blade never moving.
“What in the bloody hell brings you here?”
“I could ask you the same.” She waited for me to reply. When I stayed silent, she pressed her blade harder into my skin. A trickle of blood dripped down my neck “Talk.”
“I came to investigate Mathers.”
“Investigate him for what?”
“The Golden Dawn. The organization boasts a membership of the highest class, as well as those wishing to ride their coattails. The influence Mathers possesses concerns my colleagues and me.”
She remained silent a moment, then pulled her blade back.
Rubbing my neck, I stood and turned toward her.
“Do you work for the Shadow Council?” she asked, her face stern.
“Who are the Shadow Council?”
Quicker than lightning, she raised her blade inches from my nose. “No one you need concern yourself about. Now leave.”
“Easy now, no need for hostility.” I pushed the blade away with a finger. “We may not work for the same organization, but we share a common goal, so why not work together?”
“I don’t need your help.”
“Nor I, yours. But I find that those who manage well on their own, manage even better together.”
Elaine gave me a beautiful scowl. For all her anger, I didn’t feel a hint of the ice that had frozen her words earlier. It made sense now. I imagined this Shadow Council was an organization like the Knight Mages, and it seemed they’d sent her here to investigate Mathers as well. I’d interrupted her mission by distracting Jones. She regarded me for several moments, the inner workings of her mind hidden from her face.
“Fine,” she said at last, tucking her long knife into the sheath strapped to her thigh. I raised an eyebrow at her trousers. Though not uncommon to see them on a woman, she dressed completely in a man’s style, from her trousers to her shirt and vest. “Cast us a light so we can see better.”
I raised an eyebrow at her, but she just gave me a flat stare in return. With a push of will, I allowed the light of my soul flame to become fully visible. She seemed unperturbed as the pale blue light flooded over her. Curious.
“Are you a magician as well?” I asked, intrigued.
A shadow settled across her face, and she shook her head. “No,” she said, leaving no room for further questions. Which only interested me more. But I didn’t feel the need to push. She gestured to the desk. “I heard you rummaging around in here. Find anything?”
I shrugged and said, “Standard papers and useless fare. I intended to search the drawers before you interrupted.”
“Search away,” she said, waving toward the drawers in question.
I knelt, kindling will and pushing it into the lock. With a tiny click, it opened. Inside sat a large, black, leather-bound journal. I opened it and skimmed the pages but saw nothing of import. Handing the journal to Elaine to inspect, I searched the papers at the bottom of the drawer.
Nothing.
Elaine handed the journal back to me with a shake of her head, and I replaced it in the drawer before shutting it.
“Perhaps we should search the books for clues,” I suggested as I stood.
“No need. I already looked. And the other rooms as well.”
“What do you suggest, then?”
“We keep looking.” She put a finger to her lips, thinking. “Something of import is here. He wouldn’t have hidden this library otherwise.”
Perhaps he hid yet more within these walls, Vex suggested, setting wheels turning in my mind.
“What better way to protect your greatest secrets than to allow your enemies to uncover a few,” I mused aloud.
“Of course,” Elaine said, looking up. “Most intruders would cease to search once found they this hidden library.”
“Precisely. Spread out.”
She nodded and stalked off as I searched the shelves against the wall. I expected to find a room or passage, so I probed the stacks with my will for any sign of a secret opening.
We moved as silently as we could, and I kept listening for any sign of our discovery.
The sound of a lock releasing echoed through the room.
I pressed myself against one of the stacks, not moving, not even breathing.
“I found something,” Elaine said from her side of the library.
I hurried toward her voice and found her standing before a section of shelving swung back into the wall, revealing a corridor behind it. My heart slid from my throat
