Nicholas Flamel 1 - The Alchemyst sotinf-1

by Michael Scott

  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