Cael Alexander did not keep the Codex on a shelf.
He kept it inside a locked cabinet behind a sliding panel of first-edition art theory texts, as though hiding it among ordinary obsession would dull its threat.
Well, it didn't.
Galathea Brooks felt it before she saw it.
The library lights were low, amber pooling across polished wood and shadowed spines. Rain traced the penthouse windows in thin, restless streaks. The city hummed far below, unaware.
"You're certain?" Cael asked quietly.
She nodded.
The Palette Knife lay wrapped in linen on the table between them. It had not stopped humming since the dealer's shop. Even through cloth, its pulse was steady -- alive.
She left the Knife in her apartment, locked in a metal box. She used it as an excuse to leave Cael's side but her boss said there was no need to fetch it.
A few minutes ago, she felt its hum, its pulse, right there in the library. And that's where they found it next.
