Page 107 of Arcane Entanglement
“I’m an apprentice Charm Weaver.” William’s ears reddened. “I want to follow in my father’s footsteps.”
“There’s nothing wrong with that,” the Brute grunted. “If it hadn’t been for what happened to my family and those bastard mages, I would have ended up a potato farmer like my pa.”
The incongruity of his statement compared to his reputation as the Ironfist Brute had William’s jaw dropping and Evander biting his lip hard.
“A potato farmer,” Rufus managed in a strangled voice. “It suits you.”
A smile tugged at Viggo’s lips.
The brief moment of levity lightened their sombre moods.
“We should return to London,” Evander said. “This changes things. We have to take this all the way to the top of Scotland Yard and the Ministry of Arcane Affairs.”
Rufus nodded briskly. “We should inform the War Office and the Mage Council too.”
They returned to the cottage with the box and its contents.
Evander filled Martha Millbrook in on their findings, carefully omitting the more gory details of the objective of her dead husband’s last commission.
“Alastair was a good man caught up in something terrible. We'll do our very best to find and punish his murderer.”
Martha nodded, her eyes gleaming with gratitude.
“Hawk will stick around and keep an eye on things,” Viggo told William. “I’ll send more men as reinforcements to relieve him.”
“We’ll have undercover officers from the Met come guard you too,” Rufus promised.
William squeezed Evander’s fingers as they shook hands at the door.
“Thank you.” He glanced over his shoulder, the sound of his mother in the kitchen faint. “It would have broken her heart if she’d been told what father accidentally created.” His jaw set in a hard line as he looked at them. “I hope you stop that bastard Renwick before he causes more harm.”
They bade him goodnight and made their way out of the woods.
It didn’t require too much persuasion to convince a farmer in the hamlet to take them into Harpenden.
The journey back to London was tense, the gravity of their discovery weighing heavily on all of them. Evander spent most of the trip poring over Millbrook’s notes and journal, a growing sense of unease eating at him with every mile that brought them closer to the city.
How and where is Renwick intending to use this device?
It wasn’t long before their train pulled into Charing Cross. As they stepped out on the platform, a figure caught Evander’s eye. The man disappeared in the bustling crowd, but not before Evander recognised the mocking sneer he shot his way. His pulse stuttered.
Renwick?!
Chapter43
Dark magic surgedacross the platform before Evander could react, sucking all the warmth and oxygen from the surroundings and bringing a vile stench and taste to his nose and tongue. His ears popped as the pressure dropped.
Choked gurgles sounded around him. People began collapsing like flies.
Viggo cursed and caught Rufus as he swayed.
“What the hell is going on?!”
“They’re here!” Evander said thickly.
Shadowy trails were absorbing the light pouring through the station’s glass ceiling and emanating from enchanted lamps. Evander froze when the darkness coalesced on a tidal wave of sinister magic that bore down on them.
“Get down!Now!” Viggo barked.
