Elena, Mila, and Henk find themselves drawn to unexpected corners of the city as they hunt for answers about De Verborgenen. Their search leads them to cryptic inscriptions along Rotterdam’s lesser-known streets and canals, bringing new questions to light.
A Rotterdam Story | Spoilers Podcast | S1E5
If you’re a fan of spoilers, listen to the latest podcast episode, in which our hosts discuss and analyse the events of this chapter.
Gathering at Cool District
The morning after their unsettling encounter in Het Park, the three agreed to meet in the Cool District, not far from the vibrant Witte de Withstraat. This area still carried an undercurrent of artistic energy from its many galleries and cultural spots. Though slightly weary from their nighttime escape, they gathered at Bazar, a colourful cafe known for its North African and Middle Eastern cuisine. Warmed by cups of spiced tea, they sat at a corner table, hushed by the weight of recent events.
Mila set down her mug, glancing at Elena and Henk. “After what happened, I couldn’t sleep,” she confessed. “That man mentioned De Verborgenen, and it’s clear they’re still active. But how? And why so protective?”
Elena shifted in her seat, recalling the stranger’s warning. “He basically told us to leave it alone,” she said. “But we can’t just walk away. There’s something bigger going on.”
Henk rubbed his tired eyes, nodding. “Agreed. We just need to keep a low profile. If De Verborgenen really are watching, we should be careful about where we go and who we talk to.”
They spoke in hushed tones, developing a plan to search for any records of De Verborgenen in the city archives. But Henk wanted to revisit a clue he’d found earlier—one that pointed to a canal near the Westersingel. According to the old map from the chamber, an engraving similar to the carved ‘R’ might be hidden there, a possible link to the group’s secret activities.
Searching the Westersingel canal
That afternoon, they walked towards the Westersingel, the canal’s water reflecting the grey sky overhead. Autumn leaves floated on the surface, creating a patchwork of orange and gold. They passed under the arching trees, the bustle of the city a muted backdrop.
Henk paused by a small footbridge overlooking the canal. “This area used to be lined with grand houses in centuries past,” he said, eyeing the stone embankment. “Some may have old markers or inscriptions.”
Mila leaned over the edge of the railing, scanning the mossy stones. “Are we sure it’s here?” she asked.
Elena pulled out her phone, comparing their location to the lines on the antique map she’d photographed. “It should be nearby,” she murmured. “The map showed a stylised canal bend, and that’s definitely this part of Westersingel.”
They carefully walked along the canal’s edge, peering at the stones. In a recessed corner, partially obscured by a tangle of ivy, Elena spotted an engraving. Heart pounding, she crouched down, brushing leaves aside. There it was—a faint, looping pattern reminiscent of the ‘R’ symbol they had seen before.
Henk’s face lit up. “This must be another mark from De Verborgenen,” he said quietly. “They may have used the canal’s edges as a hidden trail of sorts.”
A hidden inscription
Mila shivered in the chilly breeze. “What does it mean, though? Is it another entrance?”
Elena ran her fingertips along the stone. “No door or grate,” she said, “just the carving. But there might be more inscriptions.”
They decided to follow the canal further, crossing over to the opposite side near Eendrachtsplein. This square, often bustling with shoppers and cyclists, gave way to a quieter stretch along the water. The hum of traffic faded as they ventured onto a narrow path behind a row of tall plane trees. Their eyes skimmed every surface in search of additional symbols.
Eventually, they discovered a second engraving near a bench—this time not just an ‘R’, but a series of smaller geometric shapes that Elena carefully photographed. Henk studied the pattern, muttering theories under his breath. He noticed something akin to the windmill puzzle they had deciphered underground, but the lines were too faint to be sure.
An unexpected ally reappears
Suddenly, a movement caught Elena’s eye. Across the canal, a man stood watching them. She instantly recognised the dark scarf and the stiff posture—it was the stranger from Het Park. He lowered his gaze, then slipped behind a row of bicycles, vanishing before she could alert the others.
Mila followed Elena’s stare, her heart jolting when she realised who it was. “We’re definitely being followed,” she whispered. “He must know we’re onto something.”
Henk felt a surge of urgency. “Let’s not linger here,” he said, glancing around. “We should head to the city archives before it closes. Maybe we’ll find more about these symbols.”
The city archives on hofdijk
They hurried through the side streets, taking a tram towards Hofdijk, where the Rotterdam City Archives building rose in stately silence. The grey clouds overhead threatened rain, adding to the tense mood. Once inside, the atmosphere shifted—rows of shelves, the faint scent of old paper, and the soft hum of computers created a cocoon of research and discovery.
An archivist greeted them politely, and Henk explained they were looking into obscure historical references related to canal inscriptions. The archivist directed them to a section on city planning records from the 19th and early 20th centuries. The group spread out, leafing through yellowed documents and large bound volumes. Time slipped away in the hush of the reading room.
Elena’s focus wavered as she recalled the stranger’s words. Why warn them, yet keep appearing? Was he trying to guide them, or was he just another layer of deception? She steeled herself, determined to press on.
Midway through scanning a ledger, Mila stifled a gasp. “I’ve found something,” she said, her eyes wide. She slid the book towards Elena and Henk. It contained a diagram of the Westersingel canal, annotated with cryptic notes about “merchant gatherings” and “protective measures.” At the margin, a symbol almost identical to their carved ‘R’ leapt off the page.
“This must be a reference to De Verborgenen,” Henk breathed, his voice trembling with excitement. “It proves they used these markers—probably to mark meeting points or hide something significant.”
Elena carefully took photographs of the pages. She felt both exhilarated and uneasy, aware that each new piece of information tightened the group’s connection to a centuries-old secret. The more they learned, the more they risked attracting the attention of those who wanted the knowledge to remain hidden.
As they left the archives, the sky opened up in a gentle drizzle, the city lights reflecting on damp pavements. Despite the cold evening air, Elena felt a spark of determination. They now had proof that De Verborgenen were active around the canals. Whatever secrets the group guarded, it was deeper and more organised than they had ever imagined.
Yet questions remained. Why would anyone go to such lengths to protect these centuries-old mysteries? Who was the scarfed stranger, and what role did he play? Above all, how far were they willing to go to uncover the truth?
The answers, it seemed, waited just beneath the surface of the city itself—etched into stone, hidden in archives, and whispered among the canals of Rotterdam.