Silas Nightshade's Arc

Chapter 2 of 4

The knife stayed in Silas's coat, but its owner would not leave his mind. Vivienne Ashford had named it her husband's killer's blade, then vanished into the night. She knew more than she said. Silas felt it. But she saw only a masked man who took what she wanted. To reach the killer, he had to reach her first. So he sent word through the coroner and asked her to meet him where she chose. She chose an old cathedral chapel. Silas found her waiting in a back pew, alone, her black dress dark against the worn stone. Tall windows threw broken light across the floor. She did not turn when he entered. "Take off the mask," Vivienne said. "Or leave." Silas stopped. His hand went to the edge of the mask, then dropped. He could not give her a face. He had no name behind it, and the focus had taken that too. He needed another kind of proof. "I can't," he said. "But I can show you what I know." He drew a folded paper from his coat and set it on the pew. He had copied the marks from the blade and built them out. Layered rings. Sharp sigils drawn by hand. The full ritual the killer signed into each chest. Vivienne looked at the sketch. Her steady eyes moved once, then held. "You've seen the burns," she said. It was not a question. "Six of them. Same knot every time. The knife makes that knot." He watched her. "Your husband was the sixth." She was quiet a long moment. Then she reached into her bag and set down a heavy ledger. Iron corners. A lock across the cover. "My husband kept this," Vivienne said. "Debts. Names. He owed the wrong man. The night he died, a tall man came. A scar down his jaw. He looked at me. Then he ran." Silas leaned closer. "You know the killer's face." "I know his face. Not his name." She pressed her hand flat on the ledger. "It's in here. My husband sealed it. I can't open it, and no locksmith will touch it. There's a lock inside the lock." She met his eyes. "You do magic. Open it, and I tell you everything about the knife." Silas set his hand on the ledger. The focus woke at once. Cold pressure climbed his arm. Then, behind his eyes, the silent laugh. The old thing knew this seal. It found it funny. He pulled back, breathing hard. "There's a ward on it. A strong one." He looked at her. "I can break it. But not tonight, and not without help." Vivienne stood. She lifted the ledger and held it against her chest. "Then find your help," she said. "You know where I'll be." She walked out. Silas stayed in the empty chapel, the sketch in his hand. He had earned her trust without a face. But the price was a sealed book his focus already wanted open.