House of Silence, Prague – 12:22 a.m.
Langdon stepped back from the stone table, heart racing. The symbol of The Black Veil was unmistakable—rumored to be one of the oldest secret fraternities still in existence, far older than the Freemasons or Rosicrucians.
The Black Veil was said to have formed centuries ago, not to preserve knowledge—but to conceal it. They didn't build monuments—they erased them.
Wherever revolutionary ideas threatened religious or political order, they intervened silently. Ruthlessly.
And now they had Katherine.
A sudden creak echoed through the chamber.
Lenka drew her weapon as a shadow moved along the far wall.
From behind a column, a figure emerged slowly—a hunched, elderly man in a long, tattered coat. His face was gaunt, almost translucent.
"You shouldn't have come," he rasped in Czech-accented English. "They are watching." Langdon stepped forward. "Who are you?" The man smiled faintly. "Once, I was a librarian. Now, I'm a janitor of forgotten truths." He extended a trembling hand, revealing a brass key etched with astronomical coordinates.
"The answer isn't here," he whispered. "She wanted you to have this." Langdon took the key.
"What does it open?"
The man pointed to a crumbling archway behind the chamber, mostly hidden behind scaffolding.
"The chamber below. The path to the Phoenix Stair." Lenka looked at Langdon.
"The what?" Langdon turned toward the dark archway.
"It's a mythical passage beneath Prague… said to have been built by alchemists. A tunnel connecting ancient minds. Some believe it leads to London." Lenka shook her head. "That's impossible." Langdon inserted the key into the ancient lock.
With a deep rumble, the stone began to slide open.
"I stopped believing in impossible," he said, "the moment Katherine vanished."