Nicholas Flamel 1 - The Alchemyst sotinf-1

by Michael Scott

  hallucinations. He stopped, looking at Sophie and Josh in turn.

  The twins lifted their heads to look at him, identical expressions of

  disbelief on their faces, bright blue eyes still wide with shock. Lame,

  Josh said finally.

  Very lame, Sophie agreed.

  Nick shrugged. Actually, I thought it was a pretty good explanation. It

  covered the smells, the explosion in the shop and any any peculiar things you

  thought you might have seen, he finished hurriedly.

  Adults, Sophie had decided a long time before, were really bad at making up

  good excuses. We didn't imagine those things, she said firmly. We didn't

  imagine the Golems.

  The what? Josh asked.

  The big guys were Golems; they were made out of mud, his sister explained.

  Perry told me.

  Ah, she did, did she? Fleming murmured. He looked around the devastated

  shop and shook his head. It had taken less than four minutes to completely

  trash it. I m surprised he brought Golems. They are usually so unreliable in

  warmer countries. But they served his purpose. He got what he came for.

  The book? Sophie asked. She had caught a glimpse of it in Josh s hand

  before the small man pulled it free. Although she was standing in a shop full

  of books, and their father owned a huge library of antiquarian books, she had

  never seen anything like that particular one before. It looked as if it was

  bound in tarnished metal.

  Fleming nodded. He s been looking for that for a long time, he said softly,

  his pale eyes lost and distant. A very long time.

  Josh rose slowly to his feet, his back and shoulders aching. He held out two

  crumpled pages to Nick. Well, he didn't get all of it. When he pulled the

  book out of my hand, I guess I must have been holding on to these.

  Fleming snatched the pages from Josh s hand with an inarticulate cry.

  Dropping to the floor, he brushed away shredded books and shattered shelving

  and laid the two pages on the floor side by side. His long-fingered hands

  were trembling slightly as he smoothed the pages flat. The twins knelt on the

  floor on either side of him, staring intently at the pages and trying to make

  sense of what they were seeing. And we re certainly not imagining that,

  Sophie whispered, tapping the page with her index finger.

  The thick pages were about six inches across by nine inches long and were

  composed of what looked like pressed bark. Tendrils of fibers and leaves were

  clearly visible in the surface, and both were covered with jagged, angular

  writing. The first letter at the top left-hand corner of each page was

  beautifully illuminated in gold and red, while the rest of the words were

  written in reddish black ink.

  And the words were moving.

  Sophie and Josh watched as the letters shifted on the page like tiny beetles,

  shaping and reshaping themselves, becoming briefly almost legible in

  recognizable languages like Latin or Old English, but then immediately

  dissolving and re-forming into ancient-looking symbols not unlike Egyptian

  hieroglyphs or Celtic Ogham.

  Fleming sighed. No, you re not imagining that, he said finally. He reached

  down the neck of his T-shirt and pulled out a pair of pincenez on a length of

  black cord. The pincenez were old-fashioned glasses without arms, designed to

  perch on the bridge of the nose. Using the spectacles as magnifying glasses,

  Nick moved them across the wriggling, shifting words. Ha!

  Good news? Josh asked.

  Excellent news. He s missing the Final Summoning. He squeezed Josh s

  bruised shoulder, making him wince. If you had wanted to take two pages from

  the book, rendering it useless, then you could not have chosen better than

  these. The broad smile faded from his face. And when Dee finds out, He'll

  be back, and I guarantee you he will not just bring Golems with him next

  time.

  Who was the gray man? Sophie asked. Perry also called him Dee.

  Gathering up the pages, Nick stood. Sophie turned to look at him and realized

  that he suddenly looked old and tired, incredibly tired. The gray man was

  Dr. John Dee, one of the most powerful and dangerous men in the world.

  I ve never heard of him, Josh said.

  To remain unknown in this modern world: that, indeed, is real power. Dee is

  an alchemist, a magician, a sorcerer and a necromancer, and they are not all

  the same thing.

  Magic? Sophie asked.

  I thought there was no such thing as magic, Josh said sarcastically, and

  then immediately felt foolish, after what he d just seen and experienced.

  Yet you have just fought creatures of magic: the Golems are men created of

  mud and clay, brought to life by a single word of power. In this century,

  I'll wager there are less than half a dozen people who have even seen a

  Golem, let alone survived an encounter with one.

  Did Dee bring them to life? Sophie asked.

  Creating Golems is easy; the spell is as old as humanity. Animating them is

  a little harder and controling them is practically impossible. He sighed.

  But not for Dr. John Dee.

  Who is he? she pressed.

  Dr. John Dee was Court Magician during the reign of Queen Elizabeth I in

  England.

  Sophie laughed shakily, not entirely sure whether to believe Nick Fleming.

  But that was centuries ago; the gray man couldn t have been older than

  fifty.

  Nick Fleming crawled around on the floor, pushing through books until he

  found the one he wanted. England in the Age of Elizabeth. He flipped it open:

  on the page facing an image of Queen Elizabeth I was an old-fashioned etching

  of a sharp-faced man with a triangular beard. The clothes were different, but

  there was no doubt that this was the man they had encountered.

  Sophie took the book from Nick s hands. It says here that Dee was born in

  1527, she said very softly. That would make him nearly five hundred years

  old.

  Josh came to stand beside his sister. He stared at the picture, then looked

  around the room. If he breathed deeply, he could still smell the peculiar

  odors of magic. That was what he had been smelling not mint and rotten eggs,

  but the scent of magic. Dee knew you, he said slowly. He knew you well,

  he added.

  Fleming moved about the shop, picking up odd items and dropping them to the

  floor again. Oh, he knows me, he said. He knows Perry, too. He s known us

  for a long time a very long time. He looked over at the twins, his almost

  colorless eyes now dark and troubled. You re involved now, more s the pity,

  so the time for lies and subterfuge is past. If you are to survive, you will

  need to know the truth.

  Josh and Sophie looked at one another. They had both picked up the phrase If

  you are to survive

  My real name is Nicholas Flamel. I was born in France in the year 1330.

  Perry s real name is Perenelle: she is ten years older than me. But don't

  ever tell her I said that, he added hastily.

  Josh felt his stomach churn and rumble. He was going to say Impossible! and

  laugh and be irritated with Nick for telling them such a stupid story. But he

  was bruised and aching from being flung across the room by by what? He

&nbs
p; remembered the Golem that had reached for Perry Perenelle and how it had

  dissolved into powder at her touch.

  What what are you? Sophie asked the question that was forming on her twin s

  lips. What are you and Perenelle?

  Nick smiled, but his face was cold and humorless, and for an instant, he

  almost resembled Dee. We are legend, he said simply. Once a long time

  ago we were simple people, but then I bought a book, the Book of Abraham the

  Mage, usually called the Codex. From that moment on, things changed.

  Perenelle changed. I changed. I became the Alchemyst.

  I became the greatest alchemyst of all time, sought after by kings and

  princes, by emperors and even the Pope himself. I discovered the secret of

  the philosopher s stone hidden deep in that book of ancient magic: I learned

  how to turn ordinary metal into gold, how to change common stones into

  precious jewels. But more than this, much more, I found the recipe for a

  formulation of herbs and spells that keeps disease and death at bay.

  Perenelle and I became virtually immortal. He held up the torn pages in his

  hand. This is all that remains of the Codex. Dee and his kind have been

  seeking the Book of the Mage for centuries. Now they have it. And Perenelle,

  too, he added bitterly.

  But you said the Book is useless without these pages, Josh reminded him

  quickly.

  That is true. There is enough in the Book to keep Dee busy for centuries,

  but these pages are vital, Nick agreed. Dee will be coming back for them.

  There s something else, though, isn t there? Sophie asked quickly.

  Something more. She knew he was holding something back; adults always did.

  Their parents had taken months to tell Josh and her that they would be

  spending the summer in San Francisco.

  Nick glanced at her sharply, and once again she was reminded of the look Dee

  had given her earlier: there was something cold and inhuman in it. Yes there

  is something more, he said hesitantly. Without the Book, Perenelle and I

  will age. The formulation for immortality must be brewed afresh every month.

  Within the full cycle of the moon, we will wither and die. And if we die,

  then the evil we have so long fought against will triumph. The Elder Race

  will claim this earth again.

  The Elder Race? Josh asked, his voice rising and cracking. He swallowed

  hard, conscious now that his heart was thumping in his chest. What had

  started out as just another ordinary Thursday afternoon had turned into

  something strange and terrible. He played a lot of computer games, read some

  fantasy novels, and in those, elder always meant ancient and dangerous.

  Elder, as in old?

  Very old, Flamel agreed.

  You mean there are more like Dee, like you? Josh said, then winced as

  Sophie kicked his shins.

  Flamel turned to look at Josh, his colorless eyes now clouded with anger.

  There are others like Dee, yes, and others like me, too, but Dee and I are

  not alike. We were never alike, Flamel added bitterly. We chose to follow

  different paths, and his has led him down some very dark roads. He too is

  immortal, though even I am not sure how he retains his youth. But we are both

  human. He turned to the cash register, which was lying broken open on the

  floor, and started scooping out the money as he spoke. When he turned to look

  at the twins, they were startled by the grim expression on his face. Those

  whom Dee serves are not and never were from the race of man. Shoving the

  money into his pockets, he grabbed a battered leather jacket off the floor.

  we've got to get out of here.

  Where will you go? What will you do? Sophie asked.

  What about us? Josh finished the thought for her, as she often did for him.

  First I have to get you to a place of safety before Dee realizes that the

  pages are missing. Then I'll go in search of Perenelle.

  The twins looked at each other. Why do you have to get us to a safe place?

  Sophie asked.

  We don't know anything, Josh said.

  Once Dee discovers that the Book is incomplete, he will return for the

  missing pages. And I guarantee you, he will leave no witnesses on this

  earth.

  Josh started to laugh, but the sound died in his throat when he realized that

  his sister was not even smiling. You re He licked suddenly dry lips.

  You re saying that he would kill us?

  Nicholas Flamel tilted his head to one side, considering. No, he said

  finally, not kill you.

  Josh heaved a sigh of relief.

  Believe me, Flamel continued. Dee can do much worse to you. Much worse.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  T he twins stood on the sidewalk outside the bookshop, glass from the broken

  windows crunching under their feet, watching as Nick produced a key. But we

  Can't just leave, Sophie said firmly.

  Josh nodded. We re not going anywhere.

  Nick Fleming or Flamel, as they were beginning to think of him turned the key

  in the lock of the bookshop and rattled the door. Within the shop, they could

  hear books sliding onto the floor. I really loved this shop, Flamel

  muttered. It reminded me of my very first job. He glanced at Sophie and

  Josh. You have no choice. If you want to survive the rest of the day, you

  have to leave now. Then he turned away, pulling on his battered leather

  jacket as he hurried across the road to The Coffee Cup. The twins looked at

  each other, then hurried after him.

  you've got keys to lock up?

  Sophie nodded. She produced the two keys on their Golden Gate Bridge key

  ring. Look, if Bernice comes back and finds the shop closed, sHe'll probably

  call the police or something .

  Good point, Flamel'said. Leave a note, he told Sophie, something

  short you had to leave suddenly, some sort of emergency, that sort of thing.

  Say that I accompanied you. Scribble it; make it look as if you left in a

  hurry. Are your parents still on that dig in Utah? The twins parents were

  archaeologists, currently on loan to the University of San Francisco.

  Sophie nodded. For another six weeks at least.

  We re still staying with Aunt Agnes in Pacific Heights, Josh added. Aunt

  Agony.

  We Can't just disappear. SHe'll be expecting us home for dinner, Sophie

  said. If we re even five minutes late, she gets in a tizzy. Last week, when

  the trolley car broke down and we were an hour late, she d already phoned our

  parents by the time we got there. Aunt Agnes was eighty-four, and although

  she drove the twins to distraction with her constant fussing, they were very

  fond of her.

  Then you ll need to give her an excuse too, Flamel'said bluntly, sweeping

  into the coffee shop with Sophie close behind him.

  Josh hesitated before stepping into the cool, sweet-smelling gloom of The

  Coffee Cup. He stood on the sidewalk, his backpack slung over his shoulder,

  looking up and down. If you ignored the sparkling glass littering the

  sidewalk in front of the bookshop, everything looked perfectly normal, an

  ordinary weekday afternoon. The street was still and silent, the air was

  heavy with just a hint of the ocean. Across the bay, beyond Fisherman s

  Wharf, a ship s horn sounded, the deep noise lost and lonel
y in the distance.

  Everything looked more or less as it had half an hour earlier.

  And yet

  And yet it was not the same. It could never be the same again. In the last

  thirty minutes, Josh s carefully ordered world had shifted and altered

  irrevocably. He was a normal high school sophomore, not too brilliant, but

  not stupid either. He played football, sang badly in his friend s band, had a

  few girls he was interested in, but no real girlfriend yet. He played the

  occasional computer game, preferred first person shooters like Quake and Doom

  and Unreal Tournament, couldn t handle the driving games and got lost in

  Myst. He loved The Simpsons and could quote chunks of episodes by heart,

  really liked Shrek, though he d never admit it, thought the new Batman was

  all right and that X-Men was excellent. He even liked the new Superman,

  despite what other people said. Josh was ordinary.

  But ordinary teens did not find themselves in the middle of a battle between

  two incredibly ancient magicians.

  There was no magic in the world. Magic was movie special effects. Magic was

  stage shows with rabbits and doves and sometimes tigers, and David

  Copperfield sawing people in half and levitating over the audience. There was

  no such thing as real magic.

  But how then could he explain what had just happened in the bookshop? He had

  watched shelves turn to rotten wood, seen books dissolve into pulp, smelled

  the stink of rotten eggs from Dee s spells and the cleaner scent of mint when

  Fleming Flamel worked his magic.

  Josh Newman shivered in the bright afternoon sunshine and ducked into The

  Coffee Cup, pulling open his backpack and reaching in for his battered

  laptop. He needed to use the caf s wireless Internet connection; he had

  names he wanted to look up: Doctor John Dee, Perenelle and especially

  Nicholas Flamel.

  Sophie scribbled a quick note on the back of a napkin, then chewed the end of

  the pencil as she read it.

  Mrs. Fleming unwell. Gas leak in the shop. Gone to hospital. Mr. Fleming with

  us. Everything else OK. Will phone later.

  When Bernice came back and found the shop closed just before the

  late-afternoon rush, she was not going to be happy. Sophie guessed that she

  might even lose her job. Sighing, she signed the note with a flourish that

  tore through the paper, and stuck it to the cash register.