Chapter 32
Simek shrank back and stared at them with wide, frightened eyes.
“Who—who are you? How did you find me?!” he stammered in heavily-accented English.
“My name is Evander Ravenwood. I’m a Special Arcane Investigator with the London Metropolitan Police.
” Even though tension still coiled through him, Evander maintained a calm, soothing tone as he addressed the scared man.
“We’ve been investigating a conspiracy involving dark mages and something called the Crimson Codex. Your name came up in our research.”
Simek paled at the mention of the Codex.
“The Codex,” he whispered, his expression growing even more haggard. “So they’ve finally come for me.”
“Those men weren’t trying to interrogate you,” Viggo stated bluntly. “They were trying to kill you.”
Simek blinked at him before letting out a bark of laughter, the sound bitter and edged with hysteria.
“Of course they were. They don’t need to interrogate me.
They already know everything I know—probably more.
” He shook his head. “I’m just a loose end to them.
Someone who might talk to the wrong people. ”
Evander exchanged an anxious glance with the others.
“What do you mean, they already know everything?” he asked carefully.
“Because someone else found the same information I did.” He met Evander’s gaze, his voice hollow. “I’m not the only one who’s been researching the Codex. Whoever tried to kill me today,”—he stopped and swallowed—“they have access to sources I could only dream of.”
A chill ran down Evander’s spine that had nothing to do with the lingering cold from dark magic.
If “I” had another source of information about the Codex, a better source than a man who’d spent decades researching it, then they were even further behind than they’d realised.
“We need to get him somewhere safe,” Ginny said, her voice cutting coolly through the heavy silence. “They might come back with reinforcements.”
“Agreed.” Evander rose and offered Simek his hand. “Herr Simek, I know you have no reason to trust us. But those men will return and next time we might not arrive in time to stop them. Come with us. Tell us what you know. And in return, we’ll do everything in our power to keep you alive.”
Simek studied Evander’s face guardedly. Whatever he saw there seemed to reassure him.
“Very well,” he said quietly, accepting the offered hand. “But not here. Somewhere safe. Somewhere they can’t find us.”
“Our hotel,” Rufus suggested. “It’s warded.”
Simek nodded.
They helped him to his feet and made their way out of the ruined building, leaving behind the wreckage of the battle and the lingering stench of dark magic.
Prague’s streets were fully dark now, the enchanted orbs and gaslights casting pools of amber light across the cobblestones. They reached the hotel without incident, though Evander kept his senses extended the entire journey, alert for any trace of dark magic or pursuit.
The proprietor’s eyes widened at the sight of their dishevelled group and Simek’s battered appearance, but he asked no questions as they hurried through the lobby and up to the private dining room they’d commandeered for their stay.
Shaw immediately set to work tending Simek’s injuries, cleaning the cut on his forehead and examining the bruises around his throat.
“Nothing’s broken,” she announced after a thorough examination. “But you’ll have trouble speaking for a few days. Those bruises are deep.”
Simek accepted a cup of tea from Ginny with trembling hands. Though some colour had returned to his face, his eyes remained haunted.
“Herr Simek,” Evander said gently, settling into a chair across from the man. “I know you’ve been through an ordeal. But we need to understand what we’re dealing with. What can you tell us about the Crimson Codex?”
Simek’s gaze remained fixed on the steam rising from his cup for a moment.
“I’ve spent thirty years researching that damned book,” he said finally, his voice rough and strained. “Thirty years chasing rumours and half-truths.” He looked up at Evander. “And the more I learned, the more I wished I’d never started.”
“Why?” Viggo asked bluntly.
Simek’s laugh was devoid of humour. “Because the Codex isn’t what everyone thinks it is.
” He set down his cup and leaned forward, his eyes gleaming darkly.
“The stories all speak of a single book—a repository of forbidden knowledge written by the First Archmage. But that’s not the truth. Not entirely.”
Evander’s pulse quickened. “What do you mean?”
“The Crimson Codex was never one book.” Simek’s voice dropped. “I mean, it was once, but it hasn’t been for a long time. It’s scattered. Hidden across Europe in fragments, each piece containing only a portion of the whole.”
A stunned silence fell over the room.
“Fragments,” Fairbridge repeated slowly. “You’re saying the Codex was deliberately broken apart?”
“Not broken. Separated. By design.” Simek clenched his hands on the table.
“The First Archmage created something extraordinary. A complete record of magical knowledge that had never existed before. Rituals, theories, methods of amplification and transference that could reshape the very nature of magic itself.”
He studied them with a grim expression.
“But he also realised what he’d created.
A tool that, in the wrong hands, could bring about unimaginable destruction.
” Simek took a shuddering breath. “So he did the only thing he could. He divided the Codex into fragments and scattered them across Europe. Each piece was hidden separately, so that no single person could ever possess the complete knowledge.”
Evander’s heart thundered against his ribs as he processed this shocking revelation. Everything they’d assumed about their search had just been upended.
“How many fragments?” Rufus asked.
“The records I’ve found suggest seven.” Simek sagged in his chair, exhaustion evident in every movement. “Seven fragments, hidden in seven different locations. Some in libraries and archives. Others in private collections. A few, perhaps, lost entirely to time.”
“Do you know where any of them are?” Viggo pressed.
Simek hesitated. “I know where two of them were, as of a decade ago. One was held in the Vatican’s secret archive—though whether it remains there, I cannot say.
The other…” He paused, something flickering in his eyes.
“The other was rumoured to be in Vienna. In the private collection of a family that has built a repository of arcane secrets for generations.”
“Vienna.” Ginny narrowed her eyes at Evander. “That’s on our list of places to investigate.”
Simek stiffened. “Then you must be careful. The family I speak of—they do not welcome outsiders. And they have their own reasons for keeping their secrets hidden.”
“Who are they?” Evander asked tensely.
“The Helnweins,” Simek replied reluctantly. “One of the oldest magical families in the Austrian Empire, descended from royalty. They’ve been collecting forbidden texts for centuries. If anyone possesses a fragment of the Codex or knows where one is, it’s them.”
Evander exchanged a cautious glance with Fairbridge and Rufus. He hoped Winterbourne’s contact in Vienna had a way to connect them with this family.
“There’s something else you should know,” Simek continued, his expression growing more troubled. “The fragments aren’t just pieces of text. They’re connected. Bound together by the magic of their creation. Powerful, arcane magic. If someone were to gather enough of them…” He trailed off.
“What?” Viggo demanded tensely.
“The fragments would resonate. Call to each other.” Simek met Evander’s gaze.
“Whoever is behind these attacks, whoever has been hunting researchers and silencing anyone with knowledge of the Codex—they’re not just looking for the information contained within it.
They’re collecting the fragments themselves. ”
The implications hit Evander like a physical blow.
“They’re trying to reassemble the Codex,” he said numbly. “To make a weapon.”
Shaw sucked in air. Rufus and Fairbridge frowned heavily.
Viggo had grown as still as stone beside Evander.
Simek’s voice shook. “If they succeed, they’ll not only possess knowledge that hasn’t existed in complete form for several centuries, knowledge that could allow them to do things that were never meant to be possible. They would have a weapon at their disposal that could annihilate nations.”
His words echoed in the heavy silence, every one a death knell that squeezed the air from Evander’s lungs.
“The rituals described in those pages…they could reshape the very fabric of magical society,” Simek mumbled, his expression unfocused.
“They could be used to create armies of mages and make slaves of thralls. They could bind souls and steal power on a scale that would make the darkest blood magic seem like parlour tricks.”
Evander stared at the floor, his thoughts churning, fear a living thing eating at his insides. They’d come to Prague hoping to find answers. Instead, they’d discovered a threat far greater than any of them could ever have imagined. He inhaled shakily.
“How many fragments do you think they already have?”
Simek shook his head. “I don’t know. But considering how long this conspiracy has been operating, how many researchers have been silenced…” He didn’t finish the sentence. He didn’t need to.
“Then we need to move faster,” Viggo said, his voice hard. “Get to Vienna before they do. Find this Helnwein family and secure their fragment.”
“It won’t be that simple,” Simek warned. “The Helnweins are powerful and paranoid. They won’t simply hand over their treasures to strangers, no matter what credentials you carry.”
Determination tightened Evander’s chest.
“Then we’ll have to find another way.” He met Simek’s frightened gaze. “Is there anything else you can tell us? Anything that might help us understand what we’re facing?”
Simek swallowed. He reached into his coat and withdrew a small, leather-bound journal.
“My life’s work,” he said quietly. “Everything I’ve learned about the Codex, the fragments, the history behind them. It’s all in here. I do not know how those dark mages didn’t find it.” He held it out to Evander with a shudder. “Take it. Use it. And pray that you’re not already too late.”