The rain still lashed at the library's leaded windows when Elias returned to his conservation studio. He locked the door behind him, his hands still shaking from the vision in Camden. The grimoire sat on his workbench, its silver ink now pulsing faintly, as if it had been waiting for him.
He flipped to the page where he'd first seen the echo, and this time, the symbols burned bright enough to cast shadows on the wall. He grabbed a magnifying glass, tracing the lines with a trembling finger. The script was a mix of Latin and a language he didn't recognize, but one word repeated over and over, scrawled in the margin:
Vigilis
"Waker," he muttered, translating the Latin. The term sent a chill down his spine. Was that what he was? A "Waker" — someone who could pierce the Veil?
A soft creak from the hallway made him freeze.
He'd locked the door. No one else was supposed to be in the conservation wing this late.
Elias slipped the grimoire into his bag and crept toward the door, his heart thudding. Through the keyhole, he saw a figure in a hooded coat, the same velvet fabric as the man in his visions. The figure pressed a hand to the door, and Elias heard a low, guttural chant. The lock clicked open.
He ducked behind a stack of leather-bound books, his breath shallow. The figure stepped inside, its face hidden in shadow. It scanned the room, pausing at the empty space where the grimoire had been.
"Clever," a voice hissed, like stones grinding together. "But you cannot outrun the Veil. It wants you."
Elias's hand closed around a heavy brass paperweight. He tensed, ready to strike — until a sharp knock echoed through the studio.
"Elias? You in there?"
It was Hugo, the library's head archivist, a silver-haired man who'd worked there for forty years. The hooded figure vanished into the shadows, leaving only the faint smell of ozone.
Elias unlocked the door, forcing a smile. "Just finishing up a project. What's up?"
Hugo's eyes flicked to the empty workbench, then back to Elias. "I saw the news. The artist in Camden. Those symbols… I know them."
He closed the door and leaned against it, his voice dropping to a whisper. "They're from the Codex of the Veil. A book that's been missing for a century. It's a manual for Wakers — people who can see the echoes between our world and the magical one."
Elias stared at him. "You know about the Veil?"
"I'm a Waker too," Hugo said, rolling up his sleeve to reveal a faint silver tattoo on his wrist — the same symbol from the grimoire. "The Veil is a barrier that keeps magic hidden from humans. But it's weakening. The killings… they're not random. The Order of the Silent Knife is hunting Wakers, to stop us from lifting the Veil."
Before Elias could respond, his phone buzzed. Maeve's name flashed on the screen.
"Elias," she said, her voice tight with urgency. "Another body. A historian in Bloomsbury. Same symbols. And this time, the killer left a message: 'The next echo is yours.'"
Elias's blood ran cold. The Order was coming for him.
Hugo grabbed his arm, his grip firm. "You need to go. The Old Bookshop in Covent Garden. Ask for Mara. She'll keep you safe." He pressed a small, silver amulet into Elias's hand. "This will hide your echo from them. For now."
Elias stuffed the amulet into his pocket and slung the grimoire over his shoulder. He ran out of the studio, the rain soaking through his coat. As he turned the corner, he glanced back — and saw the hooded figure standing in the library doorway, watching him.
By the time he reached Covent Garden, the rain had slowed to a drizzle. The Old Bookshop was a cramped, cluttered space, its shelves lined with leather-bound volumes and jars of dried herbs. A woman with a shock of purple hair looked up from a desk, her eyes glinting with silver flecks.
"Mara?" Elias said, holding up the amulet.
She smiled, revealing a row of sharp, pearlescent teeth. "Hugo sent you. Smart man. The Order's been sniffing around here for weeks." She gestured to a back room. "Come. We've got work to do. The Veil won't hold much longer — and when it falls, the world will burn."