The glow of a single desk lamp cast long shadows across the cramped back room of Winslow’s Rare Books. Papers covered every surface, the ledger lying open at the center like an exposed nerve. Maya sat at the table, her eyes scanning line after line of text, trying to piece together the intricate web of power the Whisper Society had woven over centuries.
Beside her, Elliot leaned back in his chair, his arms crossed, his eyes darting toward the windows every few minutes. He hadn’t said much in the past hour, but Maya could feel the tension radiating off him.
Claire paced the room, her brow furrowed as she chewed on the end of a pen. Every so often, she would mutter something under her breath before scribbling notes on a scrap of paper. She seemed as overwhelmed as Maya felt, but there was a sharpness to her movements, an unyielding determination that reminded Maya of Alexander Greaves.
“This isn’t just a network,” Claire said finally, breaking the silence. “It’s a machine. Every name, every connection—it’s all designed to protect the core.”
“The core?” Elliot asked, raising an eyebrow.
Claire nodded, tapping the ledger with her pen. “The Society isn’t just a collection of powerful people pulling strings. They have a central structure, a command center. Everything feeds back to them. If we can find it, we can dismantle everything.”
Maya leaned forward, her pulse quickening. “Where is it?”
“That’s the problem,” Claire said, sighing. “The ledger doesn’t say. The location is buried under layers of misdirection. But...” She flipped to a page marked with a faded symbol of a key. “There’s a reference here to something called the ‘Convergence.’ It’s mentioned alongside a date—two weeks from now.”
Elliot frowned. “What does that mean?”
Claire shook her head. “I don’t know. But if the Society is planning something big, it’s probably tied to this. They’ve been using Blackthorn and their influence for centuries to orchestrate events. The Convergence could be the culmination of all of it.”
Maya stared at the page, her mind racing. Two weeks. That wasn’t much time to figure out what the Society was planning, let alone stop it.
“We have to find out what this is,” Maya said, her voice steady. “And we need to figure out where they’re holding it.”
Elliot sat forward, his expression grim. “If the Society knows we have the ledger, they’ll expect us to go after them. They won’t just sit back and let us figure this out.”
As if on cue, the faint chime of a bell echoed from the front of the store.
Claire froze, her hand tightening around the pen. “We’re closed,” she whispered, glancing toward the door.
Maya and Elliot exchanged a glance, their hearts pounding.
“Stay here,” Claire said, her voice low. She reached beneath the counter and pulled out a small revolver.
“Wait—what are you doing?” Maya hissed, standing.
“Keeping you alive,” Claire said sharply. “Stay out of sight.”
Before Maya could argue, Claire slipped out of the room, the door closing softly behind her.
The silence stretched on, thick and oppressive. Maya strained her ears, trying to catch any sound from the front of the store, but all she could hear was the faint rustling of papers and her own heartbeat pounding in her chest.
Elliot stood beside the window, peering through the curtain. His jaw tightened, and he stepped back.
“There’s a car parked across the street,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “It wasn’t there when we came in.”
Maya’s stomach churned. “They found us.”
Elliot nodded grimly. “We need to move. Now.”
Before they could act, the sound of a struggle erupted from the front of the store—a crash, followed by muffled shouting.
“Claire!” Maya gasped, grabbing the lantern from the table.
Elliot grabbed her arm. “Maya, wait—”
But she was already moving, throwing open the door and rushing into the main room of the bookstore.
The scene that greeted her was chaos. Claire was backed against the counter, the revolver in her hands shaking as two masked figures closed in on her. One of them held a crowbar, its metal surface gleaming in the dim light.
At the sight of Maya, the figure with the crowbar turned, their mask tilting slightly. “There you are,” they said, their voice cold and distorted.
Maya gripped the lantern tightly, her heart pounding. “Leave her alone.”
The figure chuckled, taking a step toward her. “You’ve caused quite a bit of trouble, Miss Harper. But it ends here.”
Elliot burst into the room behind her, wielding a heavy book he’d grabbed from one of the shelves. He didn’t hesitate, hurling it at the figure with the crowbar. The impact sent them stumbling backward, giving Claire enough time to aim and fire.
The gunshot was deafening in the confined space, and the second masked figure dropped to the ground with a cry of pain, clutching their leg.
“Get down!” Claire shouted, motioning for Maya and Elliot to take cover.
Maya dove behind a nearby shelf, dragging Elliot with her. The first figure recovered quickly, swinging the crowbar with a furious roar. It struck the counter with a loud crack, splintering the wood.
Maya fumbled with the lantern, turning the brass knob. The golden light flared to life, filling the room with its eerie glow.
The masked figure froze, their movements halting as the light swept over them.
“What is that?” they hissed, shielding their face.
Maya didn’t answer. She stepped out from behind the shelf, holding the lantern high. The light intensified, focusing into a beam that struck the figure squarely in the chest.
Their mask began to crack, fractures spreading like spiderwebs. With a cry of rage, they dropped the crowbar and stumbled back, their hands clawing at the edges of the mask.
“Maya, look out!” Elliot shouted.
She turned just in time to see the second figure lunging at her, their hands outstretched. Instinctively, she swung the lantern, the heavy base connecting with their shoulder. They cried out and crumpled to the ground.
Claire stepped forward, her revolver trained on the downed figure. “Don’t move,” she said coldly.
The first figure, their mask now shattered, staggered toward the door. “This isn’t over,” they snarled, blood dripping from a cut on their temple.
Maya stepped toward them, the lantern still glowing. “No,” she said, her voice steady. “It’s just getting started.”
The figure glared at her, their eyes burning with hatred, before retreating into the night.
The aftermath was a blur. Claire secured the remaining masked figure, tying their hands with a length of rope she’d retrieved from the back room. Elliot began gathering their belongings, his movements quick and purposeful.
“We can’t stay here,” Claire said, her voice tight. “They’ll come back with more.”
Maya nodded, her hands still trembling. “Where do we go?”
Claire hesitated, her gaze drifting to the ledger on the table. “There’s a safe house on the edge of the city. It’s not much, but it’ll buy us time to figure out our next move.”
Elliot slung his bag over his shoulder. “Then let’s go before they regroup.”
Maya grabbed the ledger and the lantern, her determination hardening.
The Society had made their move.
Now, it was their turn.