That Saturday, Nick went to the S.P.A. headquarters and demanded to speak to Winters and the full wizard council. He ranted about Alex’s reckless use of magic in the field, claiming he was putting them all in danger. It was a ruse to keep them all busy while Alex and Ethan searched the forbidden vault. Nearby, Cassie monitored the meeting on her tablet to alert Alex when it was ending. Ash was with her to cause a disturbance if they needed more time. At the Wizard’s Sanctum, Alex and Ethan waited in Ethan’s sedan until they knew the council was at the S.P.A. headquarters. Saturday’s bustle meant the Sanctum wasn’t empty; its sleek glass exterior was a lie, hiding ancient secrets. A guard manned the front desk, his badge gleaming under rune-lit sconces. Alex flashed his S.P.A. badge, Ethan mirroring him, quick enough to blur names. “Only wizards allowed,” the guard said, eyes narrowing. “The S.P.A. agreed that agents would need an escort.” Alex sighed, showing his badge again slowly enough that the guard could read the name.“I am a wizard.” The guard paled. “Mr. Tormane, I’m sorry. I didn’t recognize you. Your father’s not here.” “I’m not here for him,” Alex said, voice sharp. “We’re checking spells for a case.” “Of course. I just need visitors to sign in.” The guard offered a clipboard to Ethan, who didn’t move. “No, you don’t,” Alex snapped. “He’s an S.P.A. agent here on business. Agents on business don’t leave records for public eyes. Let us in, or I’ll call Winters. He’ll shut this place down for noncompliance and send an army to audit every artifact and spell to ensure all are legal. You can explain it to Russell.” The guard stiffened, the SP.A’s shadow looming. “No threats for needed. You have your responsibilities. I have mine. The council asked me to make the request.” He stepped aside, the door’s runes humming as they entered. Inside, the Sanctum’s contrast hit hard—its sleek exterior giving way to rugged, cut-stone walls, with shelves towering with grimoires, their bindings cracked, runes glowing red and blue. Protective wards pulsed, guarding against outside forces; temporal runes kept time’s decay at bay; containment runes enclosed artifacts’ magic, their hum reminiscent of fluorescent lights. Ethan inhaled, old leather and dust filling his lungs as he looked over display cases—vials, blades, a bone shard pulsing red. “Stay clear of those,” Alex whispered. “Your immunity might negate the containment spells.” Ethan nodded, his nullifying gift a liability here, and stuffed his hands into his pockets. He scanned the shelves, lost, the vault’s secrets overwhelming. “We’ll check these books later,” Alex said, his voice low, hazel eyes flicking to a grimoire. “It won’t matter if the council sees us with those. I can make up an excuse.” He led Ethan to a heavy wooden door, its runes and sigils carved deep, glowing like Gwen’s clay. Glancing around to assure no one watched, he nodded. “Can you open it?” Ethan gripped the handle. For a moment, it felt like his hand tingled. The door swung open, runes dimming, and they slipped inside, sealing it behind them. Alex fumbled for a switch, the lights flickering, revealing a spiral staircase that descended into shadow, the air thick with iron and decay. They descended in silence, the vault’s hum growing heavier. At the bottom, they froze. The forbidden vault sprawled, a crypt of ancient tomes on iron shelves, stretching beneath the Sanctum, their bindings frayed, runes pulsing like heartbeats. Relic cases glowed—vials, daggers, a mask etched with necromantic sigils. The air vibrated, promising secrets not even Russell had claimed. “I had no idea they hid this much,” Alex murmured, his fingers grazing a shelf. “What are we looking for?” Ethan asked, his voice cutting through Alex’s thoughts. “Animation, potions, witch spells,” Alex said, eyes wide, lingering on an ancient tome, its leather black as night. Ethan frowned. “Witch spells?” “Who cast my frost curse?” Alex asked. “You don’t think that the necromancer was working with a witch?” Ethan asked. “I don’t know,” Alex admitted, his hand hovering, the tome’s hum pulling, secrets your father kept. He shook it off. “Should we look for necromancy too?” Ethan pressed. “Those are upstairs. I’ve seen them,” Alex said, his steps slowing, fingers trailing a spine. He blinked, refocusing, but the pause lingered. “Don’t get distracted,” Ethan reminded him. “We’ve got a job.” They scanned shelves, labels guiding them—Potions, Animation, Witchcraft. The vault’s order let them work fast, but an unlabeled shelf stopped them, its tomes older, spines blank, leather cracked like bones. Alex pulled one, its weight heavy, pages in Old English, runes glowing faintly. “I’ll need Nick’s help to read this,” he said, snapping photos with his phone, careful to avoid sigils. Ethan stopped him, pointing to a page. “I’ve seen this sigil, or close. It’s on Uncle Mark’s anchor. I assumed it was the spell he used to tie his spirit to it.” Alex frowned, studying it, a whisper of forbidden power. “It doesn’t look like an anchor spell,” he said, his voice low, eyes lingering. “Not one I know.” “It might be a little different,” Ethan said, hesitant. “I wasn’t allowed near it much.” Alex kept flipping, photographing, the tome’s secrets pulling. “Should you be doing that?” Ethan asked. “I’m being careful not to photograph any sigils,” Alex assured him. Ethan warned. “But if that’s the same stuff my uncles used, it’s forbidden. If you use it, your dad will know you were down here.” “I’m not copying that much, only enough to recognize it,” Alex said, his tone sharp, fingers lingering a heartbeat too long before closing the book, returning it. “I want to know if any other wizards are using it.” “We don’t have long,” Ethan said. “How much time can Nick buy with your dad?” Alex’s jaw tightened, Russell’s shadow looming. “If my dad thinks Nick’s ratting on me, he’ll listen for hours. But we’ve got work.” He led Ethan deeper, stopping at a mundane book with a plain cover. “I was hoping to find this.” He handed the book to Ether. “This should be an index of the artifacts. It should be safe for you to handle.” Ethan took it, flipping pages. “What am I looking for?” “Anything to control a vampire,” Alex said, his eyes drifting to another grimoire, its runes pulsing. “So a sun, stake, garlic, crucifix?” Ethan quipped, his smirk easing the vault’s weight. Alex’s lips twitched, but his gaze flicked back to the grimoire. “Check the reference section.” Ethan scanned, finding a few entries. A vial of nocturnal holy oil, listed to control vampires, caught his eye, its location marked. “This might be something,” he muttered, moving to a display case, leaving Alex poring over the grimoire. Ethan leaned in close to the case, which contained a mask, statues, a dagger, candles, vials of blood, and acupuncture needles. A sigil carved into the glass lit up, black smoke puffing out, smelling acrid. Ethan coughed, waving it away, but the smoke thickened, clawing his throat, and his gasps turned into chokes. Alex lost himself reading one of the grimoires. From what Alex saw, only a small fraction was that way. Some should have been used during the war. They could have saved Alex and others a lot of pain and suffering. Alex had almost lost his leg in the war. Uncharacteristically, Russell had brought in to best doctors on the planet to save it. Has he felt guilt over allowing the injury? It was doubtful. More likely, he wanted to look good to the S.P.A. so they wouldn’t look too closely at what the wizards were doing. The book he was looking at now had spells for defeating almost any supernatural being out there. It included ways to reverse the effects of some, turning them back into humans. And there were ways to detect supernatural abilities in someone. As he photographed pages of the book, Alex wondered if his dad had used the spell on him. He hadn’t told his dad about learning magic, but Russell had known before Alex had let it be known, possibly way before. Alex snapped the grimoire shut. He’d love to study it but he couldn’t waste time. He needed to gather as much information as possible, so they could understand what was happening. He looked to where he’d left Ethan to see how he was doing, but he was gone. He realized he could hear Ethan coughing. Alex frowned. Was he getting sick? As he looked for Ethan, it sounded more like choking. Alex quickened his pace following the sound. By the time he found Ethan, he could hardly breathe. “What happened?” Alex asked, his voice sharp with concern. “What did you touch?” Ethan gestured to the cabinet in front of him. “Something in there? What did you touch?” His mind raced. If Ethan had been affected by one of the artifacts, they may need more help than he could give. How would they explain this to the council? What would his father do? Ethan shook his head. He pointed at the case. Alex frowned, not understanding. Ethan doubled over, coughing so hard. When he was able to stand, he pointed again. Alex realized he was pointing at a sigil carved into the case. Alex swore. It was some kind of protection. What the hell did his dad have in there that needed that kind of protection? Alex cast a curse-breaker, then a dispelling ward, but Ethan’s cough worsened. “I need my dad’s help,” Alex said, panic rising, the council’s wrath looming. Ethan, blue-lipped, shook his head, shoving his phone at Alex. “Your uncles?” Alex asked, hope flickering. Ethan nodded, gasping. Alex dialed Ethan’s duplex, the answering machine clicking on. An answering machine rather than voicemail? Then Alex realized it would allow him to address the ghosts who otherwise might not answer the phone. “John? Mark? Ethan needs help,” he said, voice tight. “Alex?” John’s voice crackled. “What happened?” “Ethan got hit by a spell. He can’t breathe,” Alex said, eyeing the case. “Describe it,” John said. “It’s six concentric circles, a pentagram, a seven-pointed star, and glyphs in three of the circles,” Alex said. Mark said something Alex couldn’t quite make out. “Bring him here,” John said. “I’ll break the spell.” “He won’t make it,” Alex said, Ethan’s gasps ragged. “Put the phone on speaker,” John ordered. Alex complied. He heard Mark chanting, his voice echoing through the vault, a counter-spell easing Ethan’s coughs, his color steadying but not returning. “Bring photos of the sigil and case,” Mark instructed. Alex snapped pictures, shelved the grimoire, and helped Ethan up the stairs. They paused at the door to listen to see if anyone was on the other side. Ethan opened it; the Sanctum’s shelves were quiet, the guard distracted. They slipped out, Alex muttering to the guard, “We’re done.” Ethan’s coughs were faint but persistent. At Ethan’s duplex, Mark and John waited, their ghostly forms flickering. “This is bad,” Mark said, eyeing Ethan’s blue tint. “Put him on the couch.” Alex showed the photos, the sigil’s glow stark. “I knew it. I told you to destroy that thing,” Mark claimed. “I told you never to even make it.” “At the time we needed it,” John insisted. “You made it?” Alex asked, his voice sharp. “Can you help him?” John nodded. “I can, but I’ll need your help. “Get a glass bowl from the kitchen filled with water. Tap water is fine.” Alex did so. “Now, in the other bedroom, look in the chest. I need grave moss, iron filings, phoenix feather — be careful with that one — eucalyptus, and the green vial that’s not labeled.” Mark hesitated. “Are you sure of that one?” “It’ll counter Ethan’s immunity,” John said, nodding. “Will it come back?” Alex asked. “Yes, by the end of the day,” John assured him. The second bedroom was set up like an office. Alex found an old chest carved with runes. It contained a spell book and a myriad of components. Alex found the ones John requested and took them to the living room. He wondered why Ethan had a chest of spell components when he couldn’t cast. Back in the living room, John had Alex mix the components into the water, instructing him on the quantities of each. Alex didn’t use many spells that needed components. Most of his casting was done in battle, and there wasn’t time for mixing then. But he had learned to do it. He recognized most of what he added, but not the gray powder in the green vial. “What is this?” He asked as he added the pinch required. “Best not to ask, “John insisted. “Doesn’t this need to be heated?” Alex asked. John smiled. “Of course. Mark will take care of that.” Mark nodded. “Stand back.” When Alex was out of the way, he looked at John. “Ready?” John nodded. Mark cast a spell, and the water started to boil. He’d barely finished speaking when John began his spell. There was a flash from the bowl, and the smell of ozone mixed with decay and eucalyptus. Soon, Ethan stopped coughing, and his color returned to normal. “How are you feeling?” John asked. Ethan nodded. “I’m okay now.” “I’m sorry. I…” John’s voice faltered. “Did you create that case?” Ethan asked. “John did,” Mark confirmed. “It was a commission to protect a very dangerous artifact.” “The spell on it was supposed to kill anyone who tried to open it. Ethan’s magic resistance is what kept him alive long enough for us to help,” John added. “That case had more than one artifact in it. One I recognize as something my father used, so he’s opened it more than once,” Alex claimed. “And how did he get it in the first place?” “Although it was supposed to be destroyed when the artifact was disposed of, it was likely given to a grand master for safekeeping. There is a key to open the case safely.” John explained. “What good is a storage unit if you can’t use it?” “Why do you have spell components?” Ethan asked. “Those can’t be from when you were still alive.” “Some are,” John admitted. “Others, we had someone get for us, your parents, grandfather, sometimes neighbors. We usually don’t need them. We keep them for emergencies.” “And the green vial?” Alex prompted. “Was that what I think it was?” “Probably, it was bone dust,” John told him. “When used on another person, that can be deadly,” Alex protested. “It can, unless there’s a DNA match,” Mark assured him. “That bone belonged to Tom.” “You ground up your dead brother?” Ethan asked. “No, he did it. Once the triad was broken, his bones would have been useless. Only a practiced wizard’s bones can be used. He lost his hand in an accident. He chose to keep the bone,” Mark explained. “We’re lucky he was able to keep it when he escaped. You’re lucky,” John added. “Wizardry isn’t all glamour.” Alex understood. “Sometimes, what we need to do, humans wouldn’t understand.” “Indeed, “John agreed. “What were you doing in the case?” “I wasn’t in it. I was just looking. I leaned close to see something,” Ethan explained. “What?” Alex asked. “The index said it was nocturnal holy oil. It’s supposed to control vampires. But it wasn’t there,” Ethan said. “It might be someone took it to use on Nick,” Alex guessed. “We’ll need to find out more about it.” “We still have a few grimoires here. We’ll do some research on it,” John offered. “Ethan should stay here tonight,” Mark decided. “We can keep an eye on him.” Alex nodded. “I need to let the others know we’re done.”