Chapter 33
Ten days and four cities after leaving London and Evander was beginning to feel the toll of their travels in his bones.
Vienna rose from the Danube plain like a crown jewel of the Habsburg Empire the next afternoon.
The gilded capital should have been a welcome respite with its coffee houses and opera and elegant facades.
Instead, as their carriage departed the Südbahnhof train station and rattled along the Ringstrasse toward their hotel, all Evander could think about was how many shadows might be hiding dark mages.
Since Simek didn’t trust the local authorities in Prague to protect him, they’d left the occult researcher under the protection of a couple of Nightshade agents and Johan Pavel, who had grudgingly agreed to shelter Simek until the danger passed.
Whether that protection would hold remained to be seen.
The man’s revelations about the Codex fragments had shaken them all and Evander had spent most of the train journey poring over Simek’s journal, searching for any detail that might give them an advantage.
Seven fragments. Seven pieces of forbidden knowledge scattered across Europe. And somewhere in this city, the Helnwein family probably guarded one of them.
“You’re brooding,” Viggo murmured beside him.
“I’m thinking.”
“Same thing, with you.”
Evander didn’t argue. His gaze drifted to the window, watching Vienna’s grand architecture slide past. The Ringstrasse curved past magnificent public buildings—the Opera House, the Museums, the Parliament—each seemingly trying to outdo its neighbours in splendour. It was beautiful, undeniably so.
But beneath the beauty and the city’s bones ran a current of old magic, ancient and complex in ways that London’s magical infrastructure couldn’t match.
Their hotel was an elegant establishment on the K?rntner Ring, its facade adorned with carved cherubs and gilded flourishes. The suite Winterbourne had arranged for them comprised several connected rooms that would allow them to work and meet privately.
Inspector Klaus Richter, their contact in the Vienna Arcane Division, knocked on the door an hour after they’d settled in.
He was a solidly built man in his forties, with blonde hair cropped close to his skull and a neatly trimmed beard that lent him the air of a university professor.
His handshake was firm, his manner brisk and businesslike—a man who clearly valued efficiency over pleasantries.
“Duke Ravenwood.” He took the seat Evander indicated in the suite’s sitting room. “Commander Winterbourne speaks highly of you. I only wish we were meeting under better circumstances.”
“As do I, Inspector. Thank you for agreeing to assist us.”
Richter waved this away. “We have a mutual enemy. That makes us allies.” His blue eyes swept over the assembled team. “I’ve read Commander Winterbourne’s briefing. I must confess, I would have thought all of it an exaggeration until a few weeks ago.”
Viggo frowned. “What changed?”
“We began detecting traces of dark magic throughout the city. Or rather, we went looking for it after we received Winterbourne’s report and found it, much to our regret.
” Richter paused. “No trace of dark magic was identified during the initial investigation into the disappearance of the three research mages who went missing from the University of Vienna. The men and woman you subsequently recovered from the facility beneath the London Royal Institute for the Arcane. We reopened the investigation.” He withdrew a folder from his coat and handed it to Evander.
“This is a summary of our findings. They involve the three locations where the research mages were last seen. The signatures are unlike anything in our records. Except, they match what your forensic mages found at the Royal Institute for the Arcane in London.”
Evander opened the folder and scanned the contents with a frown. He passed it to Shaw, who scrutinised the report.
“The analysis is unmistakable, your Grace,” the forensic mage confirmed with a sharp nod. “This is the same as London.”
“There’s more,” Richter continued grimly. “Rumours have surfaced in certain underground circles. Whispers about this Codex you’re after. A name came up.” His jaw tightened. “Mordecai Winchester.”
Ginny lowered her brows. “Who is he?”
“Was. Or so we believed.” Richter’s voice hardened. “Winchester is an English mage who was executed ten years ago in this city for killing two of his research associates and an alchemist. The evidence was overwhelming. He went to the gallows. I witnessed the hanging myself.”
A chill raised goosebumps on Evander’s skin.
Fairbridge narrowed his eyes. “I remember the name.” He met Evander and the rest of the team’s puzzled stares. “The matter was never revealed to the public,” he explained. “Doing so might have caused a diplomatic incident.”
“Several witnesses now claim to have seen Winchester here, in Vienna,” Richter said. “Very much alive.”
“A man back from the dead,” Solomon muttered. “That’s never good.”
“No. It is not.”
A fraught silence settled over the room.
“Inspector,” Evander said carefully, “we have reason to believe a family here in Vienna may possess information relevant to our investigation. The Helnweins. What can you tell us about them?”
Richter’s expression grew cautious.
“I wondered when that name would arise,” he muttered.
Evander’s stomach clenched. “You know them?”
Richter took a measured breath. “It seems serendipity is on your side, your Grace. I didn’t see the need to disclose this in my correspondence with Commander Winterbourne since it wasn’t relevant at the time.” He met Evander’s gaze steadily. “I am connected to the Helnweins. Through my mother.”
Evander stared. “You’re related to them?”
Richter shrugged. “Distantly. My mother was a Helnwein before she married my father, a common policeman who swept her off her feet at a summer ball.” A ghost of a smile crossed his features.
“The family was not pleased. They considered it a grave misalliance. But blood is blood and certain doors remain open to me that would be closed to others.”
“Can you get us access to them?” Viggo asked tensely.
“I can do better than that,” Richter said with a dip of his chin. “My cousin, Laurenz Helnwein, will be attending the opera tomorrow night. I can arrange for you to meet him there. He’s one of the current keepers of the family’s arcane collection.”
“Considering what we’ve heard of the family, I’m surprised he would so readily agree to meet with us,” Fairbridge observed warily.
Richter’s face tightened. “The Helnweins have had some troubles as of late. Strangers asking questions. Break-ins at properties that should have been impregnable. Two weeks ago, a man came to Laurenz directly.” His voice grew hard.
“He wanted something from the collection. When Laurenz refused, he threatened his family.”
Evander frowned. “Let me guess. Winchester?”
“The very same. Laurenz described him perfectly—gaunt, pale, with burns scarring half his face. He said the man spoke of his employer with the fervour of a zealot.” Richter’s lip curled with distaste.
“Whatever Winchester has become, he’s no longer the petty criminal who went to the gallows.
Someone has given him power. And purpose. ”
Evander exchanged a troubled glance with Viggo. It seemed they were dealing with another of “I”’s generals. A fanatic dedicated to serving his master even if it cost him his life, like Renwick and Musgrave.
“Laurenz will be at the Vienna State Opera at seven o’clock tomorrow night.
” Richter permitted himself a wry smile.
“He has a private box for the season and prefers to conduct sensitive business there. Claims the music helps him think. Personally, I suspect he enjoys making people sit through four hours of Wagner.”
Viggo made a sound that might have been a groan.
“It will provide excellent cover,” Fairbridge observed. “A public venue with private spaces for conversation.”
“Laurenz is many things,” Richter said. “Foolish is not among them. He knows someone is hunting his family’s secrets. Meeting in the open, surrounded by witnesses, is the safest option available to him right now.”
The inspector departed shortly after promising to meet them at the Vienna Arcane Division the next morning to give them more detailed intelligence on the dark magic activity in the city. He paused at the door.
“One more thing, Duke Ravenwood. Vienna’s magical underground is not like London’s. It is older, more entrenched, and far less forgiving of outsiders who stumble into the wrong shadows.” His gaze was grave. “Tread carefully. The walls have ears here and not all of them are friendly.”
A hush descended after the inspector left.
Evander quelled the sliver of dread coiling through him and addressed the room.
“We should use tomorrow to gather what information we can. Ginny, do you have contacts in Vienna?”
“A few.” Ginny’s eyes glinted. “They move in circles that might have heard whispers about this Mordecai Winchester.”
“Take Viggo with you. If Winchester is as dangerous as Richter suggests, I don’t want anyone moving through this city alone.”
Viggo’s expression suggested he had opinions about being assigned as a bodyguard rather than staying at Evander’s side, but he nodded curtly.
“Fairbridge, Rufus, and I will visit the city’s Arcane Division,” Evander continued briskly.
“See what else they can tell us about Winchester and the underground activity Richter mentioned. Shaw, I want you to come with us and examine the evidence their forensic mages gathered more closely. There might be something they missed.”
“Already planning to, your Grace.” Shaw beamed. “I’ll bring my full kit.”
“And me?” Solomon asked with a raised eyebrow.
Evander frowned. “Stay close to the hotel. Keep your ears open. If anyone comes asking questions about us, I want to know immediately.”