shelves turned dry and powdery.
Fleming tossed another invisible ball into the corner of the room. Josh
Newman followed the motion of his boss s arm. As the unseen ball sailed
through the air, a shaft of sunlight caught it, and for an instant, he saw it
glow green and faceted, like an emerald globe. Then it moved out of the
sunlight and vanished again. This time when it hit the floor, the effect was
even more dramatic. There was no sound, but the entire building shook. Tables
of cheap paperbacks dissolved into matchwood, and slivers of paper filled the
air with bizarre confetti. Two of the men in black the Golems were slammed
back against the shelves, bringing books tumbling down on top of them, while
a third the biggest was pushed so hard against the door that he was propelled
out onto the street.
And in the silence that followed came the sound of gloved hands clapping.
You have perfected that technique, I see, Nicholas. The gray man spoke
English with a curious lilt.
I ve been practicing, John, Nick Fleming said, sliding toward the open
cellar door, shoving Josh Newman farther down the stairs. I knew you would
catch up with me sooner or later.
we've been looking for you for a very long time, Nicholas. you've got
something of ours. And we want it back.
A sliver of yellow smoke bit into the ceiling above Fleming s and Josh s
heads. Bubbling, rotten black plaster drifted down like bitter snowflakes.
I burned it, Fleming said, burned it a long time ago. He pushed Josh even
farther into the cellar, then pulled the sliding door closed, sealing them
both in. don't ask, he warned, his pale eyes shining in the gloom. Not
now. Catching Josh by the arm, Nick pulled him into the darkest corner of
the bookstore cellar, caught a section of shelving in both hands and jerked
it forward. There was a click, and the shelving swung outward, revealing a
set of steps hidden behind it. Fleming urged Josh forward into the gloom.
Quickly now, quickly and quietly, he warned. He followed Josh into the
opening and pulled the shelves closed behind him just as the cellar door
turned into a foul black liquid and flowed down the stairs with the most
appalling stench of sulfur.
Up. Nick Fleming s voice was warm against Josh s ear. This comes out in
the empty shop next door to ours. We have to hurry. It ll take Dee only a few
moments to realize what s happened.
Josh Newman nodded; he knew the shop. The dry cleaner s had been empty all
summer. He had a hundred questions, and none of the answers that ran through
his mind was satisfactory, since most of them contained that one awful word
in them: magic. He had just watched two men toss balls and spears of
something of energy at each other. He had witnessed the destruction those
energies had caused.
Josh had just witnessed magic.
But of course, everyone knew that magic simply did not and could not exist.
CHAPTER THREE
W hat was that disgusting smell?
Sophie Newman was just about to press the Bluetooth headset back into her ear
when she breathed deeply and paused, nostrils flaring. She d just smelled
something awful. Closing her phone and pushing her headset into a pocket, she
leaned over the open jar of dark tea leaves and inhaled.
She had been working in The Coffee Cup since she and her brother had arrived
in San Francisco for the summer. It was an OK job, nothing special. Most of
the customers were nice, a few were ignorant and one or two were downright
rude, but the hours were fine, the pay was good, the tips were better and the
shop had the added advantage of being just across the road from where her
twin brother worked. They had turned fifteen last December and had already
started to save for their own car. They estimated it would take them at least
two years if they bought no CDs, DVDs, games, clothes or shoes, which were
Sophie s big weakness.
Usually, there were two other staff on duty with her, but one had gone home
sick earlier, and Bernice, who owned the shop, had left after the lunchtime
rush to go to the wholesalers to stock up on fresh supplies of tea and
coffee. She had promised to be back in an hour; Sophie knew it would take at
least twice that.
Over the summer, Sophie had grown used to the smells of the different exotic
teas and coffee the shop sold. She could tell her Earl Grey from her
Darjeeling, and knew the difference between Javanese and Kenyan coffee. She
enjoyed the smell of coffee, though she hated the bitter taste of it. But she
loved tea. In the past couple of weeks she had been gradually sampling all
the teas, particularly the herbal teas with their fruity tastes and unusual
aromas.
But now something smelled foul and disgusting.
Almost like rotten eggs.
Sophie brought a tin of loose tea to her face and breathed deeply. The crisp
odor of Assam caught at the back of her throat: the stench wasn't coming from
there.
You re supposed to drink it, not inhale it.
Sophie turned as Perry Fleming came into the shop. Perry Fleming was a tall,
elegant woman who could have been any age from forty to sixty. It was clear
that she had once been beautiful, and she was still striking. Her eyes were
the brightest, clearest green Sophie had ever seen, and for a long time she
had wondered if the older woman wore colored contact lenses. Perry s hair had
once been jet-black, but now it was shot through with strands of silver, and
she wore it in an intricate braided ponytail that lay along her back almost
to the base of her spine. Her teeth were small and perfect, and her face was
traced with tiny laugh lines at the corners of her eyes. She was always much
more elegantly dressed than her husband, and today she was wearing a mint
green sleeveless summer dress that matched her eyes, in what Sophie thought
was probably pure silk.
I just thought it smelled peculiar, Sophie said. She sniffed the tea again.
Smells fine now, she added, but for a moment there, I thought it smelled
like like like rotten eggs.
She was looking at Perry Fleming as she spoke. She was startled when the
woman s bright green eyes snapped wide open and she whirled around to look
across the street just as all the little square windows of the bookshop
abruptly developed cracks and two simply exploded into dust. Wisps of green
and yellow smoke curled out into the street and the air was filled with the
stench of rotten eggs. Sophie caught another smell too, the sharper, cleaner
smell of peppermint.
The older woman s lips moved, and she whispered, Oh no not now not here.
Mrs. Fleming Perry?
The woman rounded on Sophie. Her eyes were wild and terrified and her usually
faultless English now held a hint of a foreign accent. Stay here; whatever
happens, stay here and stay down.
Sophie was opening her mouth to ask a question when she felt her ears pop.
She swallowed hard and then the door to the bookshop crashed open and one of
the big men Sophie had seen earlier was flung out onto the street. Now he was
missing his hat and glasses, and So
phie caught a glimpse of his dead-looking
skin and his marble black eyes. He crouched in the middle of the street for a
moment, then he raised his hand to shield his face from the sunlight.
And Sophie felt something cold and solid settle into the pit of her stomach.
The skin on the man s hand was moving. It was slowly flowing, shifting
viscously down into his sleeve: it looked as if his fingers were melting. A
glob of what appeared to be gray mud spattered onto the street.
Golems, Perry gasped. My God, he s created Golems.
Gollums? Sophie asked, her mouth thick and dry, her tongue suddenly feeling
far too large for her mouth. Gollum, from Lord of the Rings?
Perry was moving toward the door. No: Golems, she said absently, Men of
Clay.
The name meant nothing to Sophie, but she watched with a mixture of horror
and confusion as the creature the Golem on the street crawled out of the sun
and under the cover of the awning. Like a huge slug, he left a wet muddy
trail behind him, which immediately dried in the fierce sunlight. Sophie
caught another glimpse of his face before he staggered into the bookshop. His
features had flowed like melted wax and a fine web of cracks covered the
skin. It reminded her of the floor of a desert.
Perry dashed out into the street. Sophie watched as the woman pulled her hair
free of its intricate braid and shook it loose. But instead of lying flat
against her back, her hair flowed out about her, as if it were blown in a
gentle breeze. Only there was no breeze.
Sophie hesitated a moment; then, grabbing a broom, she dashed across the road
after Perry. Josh was in the bookstore!
The bookshop was in chaos.
The once-neat shelves and carefully stacked tables were scattered and tossed
about the room in heaps. Bookcases were shattered, shelves snapped in half,
ornate prints and maps lay crushed on the floor. The stench of rot and decay
hung about the room: pulped paper and wood turned dry and rotting, even the
ceiling was scored and torn, plaster shredded to reveal the wooden joists and
dangling electrical wires.
The small gray man stood in the center of the floor. He was fastidiously
brushing dust off the sleeve of his coat while two of his Golems explored the
cellar. The third Golem, damaged and stiff from exposure to the sun, leaned
awkwardly against a crushed bookcase. Flakes of gray mudlike skin were
spiraling off what remained of his hands.
The gray man turned as Perry, followed by Sophie, dashed into the bookshop.
He gave a neat little bow. Ah, Madame Perenelle. I was wondering where you
were.
Where is Nicholas? Perry demanded. She pronounced the name Nicola. Sophie
saw a static charge ripple down the woman s hair, blue and white sparks
crackling.
Downstairs, I believe. My creatures are looking for him.
Clutching the broom tightly in both hands, Sophie slipped past Perry and
crept around to the other side of the room. Josh. Where was Josh? She had no
idea what was happening and didn't care. She just needed to find her brother.
You are looking as lovely as ever, the gray man said, eyes fixed on Perry.
You haven t aged a day. He bowed again, an old-fashioned, courtly movement
that he performed effortlessly. It is always a joy to see you.
I wish I could say the same for you, Dee. Perry moved farther into the
room, eyes darting from side to side. I recognized your foul stench.
Dee closed his eyes and breathed deeply. I rather like the smell of
brimstone. It is so He paused. So dramatic. Then his gray eyes snapped
open and the smile faded. we've come for the Book, Perenelle. And don't tell
me you've destroyed it, he added. Your continued remarkable good health is
proof indeed of its existence.
Which book? Sophie wondered, glancing around the room; the shop was full of
books.
We are the guardians of the Book, Perry said, and something in her voice
made Sophie turn to look at her. The girl stopped, mouth and eyes wide with
horror. A silver mist surrounded Perry Fleming, rising off her skin in
gossamer threads. Pale and translucent in places, it gathered thick and hard
around her hands, making it look as if she were wearing metal gauntlets. You
will never get it, Perry snapped.
We will, Dee said. we've accumulated all the other treasures over the
years. Only the Book remains. Now, make it easy on yourself and tell me where
it is .
Never!
I knew you would say that, Dee said, and then the huge Golem launched
himself at Perry. Humans are so predictable.
Nick Fleming and Josh were opening the door of the dry cleaner s when they
saw Perry, followed by Sophie, race across the street and into the bookshop.
Get this door open, Nick snapped as he reached under his T-shirt. From a
simple square cloth bag dangling around his neck, he produced what looked
like a small book bound in copper-colored metal.
Josh slammed back the bolts and tugged open the door and Nick raced out,
quickly thumbing through the rough-edged pages as he ran, looking for
something. Josh caught a brief glimpse of ornate writing and geometric
patterns on the thick yellowed pages as he followed Nick back into the
bookshop.
Nick and Josh arrived in time to see the Golem touch Perry.
And explode.
Fine, gritty powder filled the air, and the heavy black overcoat crumpled to
the floor. For a moment, a miniature whirlwind spun there, churning up the
dust, then it curled away.
But Nick and Josh s entry diverted Perry s attention. She half turned and in
that instant Dee drew his left arm across his eyes and hurled a tiny crystal
ball onto the floor.
It was as if the sun had exploded in the room.
The light was incredible. Blinding and harsh, it blanketed the room in its
ghastly flare, and with the light came the smell: the stink of burning hair
and overcooked food, smoldering leaves and scorched metal mingled with the
acrid fumes of diesel.
Josh caught a glimpse of his sister just as Dee tossed the crystal. He was
partially shielded by Nick and Perry, both of whom were battered to the floor
by the light. Josh s vision became a kaleidoscope of black-and-white still
images as the light seared the rods and cones at the back of his eyes. He saw
Nick drop the metal-bound book onto the floor saw two black-clad shapes
surround Perry and vaguely heard her scream saw Dee snatch the book with a
grunt of triumph while Nick groped blindly on the floor.
You lose, Nicholas, Dee hissed, as you have always lost. Now I get to take
those things most precious to you: your beloved Perenelle and your book.
Josh was moving even before he was aware of it. He launched himself at Dee,
catching the small man by surprise. Although only fifteen, Josh was tall for
his age, and heavy: he was big enough to be a linebacker, and the youngest on
his football team. He knocked Dee to the ground, sending the book spinning
out of his grasp. Josh felt the heavy metal cover beneath his fingertips and
caught it just as he was lifted straight off the floor and tossed into a
co
rner. He landed on a pile of books that cushioned his fall. Black spots and
darts of rainbow light moved across his eyes every time he blinked.
Dee s gray shape loomed over Josh, then his gloved hand reached down for the
book. Mine, I think.
Josh s grip tightened, but Dee simply wrenched the book from his hand.
You. Leave. My. Brother. Alone. Sophie Newman brought the broom down five
times on Dee s back, once for every word.
Dee barely glanced at her. Clutching the book in one gloved hand, he caught
the broom in the other and muttered a single word, and it immediately
withered and turned to ragged pulpy splinters in Sophie s hands. You re
lucky I m in a good humor today, he whispered, else I d do the same to
you. Then Dee and his two remaining Golems swept out of the devastated
bookshop, carrying Perry Fleming between them, and slammed the door closed.
There was a long moment of silence, and then the last remaining undisturbed
shelf of books clattered to the floor.
CHAPTER FOUR
I suppose calling the police is out of the question. Sophie Newman leaned
against a precariously listing bookcase and wrapped her arms around her body
to stop herself from shaking. She was surprised that her voice sounded so
calm and reasonable. we've got to tell them that Perry s been kidnapped .
Perry s not in any danger just yet. Nick Fleming was sitting on one of the
lower rungs of a short stepladder. He was holding his head in his hands and
breathing deeply, coughing occasionally as he tried to clear his lungs of
dust and grit. But you re right, we re not going to the police. He managed
a wan smile. I m not sure what we could say to the police that would make
any sense to them.
I m not sure that it makes much sense to us either, Josh said. He was
sitting on the only unbroken chair left in the bookshop. Although he d broken
no bones, he was bruised all over and knew he was going to turn several
really interesting shades of purple over the next couple of days. The last
time he d felt like this was when he d been run over by three guys on the
football field. Actually, this felt worse. At least then, he knew what was
happening.
I think that perhaps gas escaped into the shop, Nick suggested cautiously,
and what we've all experienced and seen is nothing more than a series of
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