“And remember what they said?” Josh added. “That they were educating us …”
“Preparing us.”
“Training us,”
“They just didn’t say it was for this role,” Sophie finished.
“But if they’re not our parents, then what are we?” Josh slowed and stopped. “I was thinking about this earlier. You know the Flamels spent all their lives looking for Gold and Silver twins….”
Sophie started to nod; then her eyes widened in shock, realizing what he was suggesting.
“Maybe Isis and Osiris did the same thing. Only they found us first.”
Sophie’s jaw dropped. “But then who does that make us, Josh? Where do we come from? Are we adopted?” Her hands flew to her mouth. “Are we even twins?”
Josh rested his hand on her shoulder and brought his forehead down to rest against hers, strands of their blond hair mingling. “I will always be your brother, Sophie. I will always look after you.”
She blinked away tears. “I know that. I just wish I knew who we are.”
“Would the Witch know?” Josh wondered. “Would it be in her memories?”
“I’m not sure …,” Sophie began, but even as she was speaking, a tumble of images sent her staggering. Josh grabbed her arm, holding her upright. The girl shuddered, then gasped for breath. She opened her eyes, swaying in place.
“What did you see?” he asked.
“The Witch’s memories …”
“Of what?”
“You and me on top of this pyramid. Fighting.”
He shook his head firmly. “That’s not going to happen.”
“Yes, it is,” she said simply. “It will happen today. Soon.”
“No, you’re seeing one of those probable futures. One that will never happen,” he said fiercely.
A single silver tear leaked from the corner of Sophie’s eye.
“Did you learn anything about us?” he asked.
“No,” she lied. She didn’t want to tell him what else she had seen. That she had seen him alone and lost on the pyramid, abandoned, while she fled….
“But I did see Scathach. I saw Joan and Saint-Germain, Shakespeare and Palamedes. They were all here.”
“Where?” he demanded.
“Here, on the steps of this pyramid,” she insisted.
“That’s impossible.”
They heard a scuffle of footsteps outside the door and a brief hurried knock.
“About time,” Josh muttered. “I was starting to feel like a prisoner.”
The ornate door handle, a gold circle showing a snake swallowing its own tail, turned and the door rattled on its hinges.
“Hang on, hang on.” Josh hurried over to the door and turned the key in the lock. He glanced over his shoulder at his sister. “How would they all get here?” he asked.
And then the door slammed open, sending Josh skidding into the room on his back. He tumbled over and over, his golden armor striking sparks from the stone floor. Sophie raced to her brother’s side.
A hooded shape moved through the doorway and stepped into the room. Two more followed, and the last one to enter closed the door and turned the key in the lock once more.
The figures were tall and muscular, and even before they had shrugged off the hooded cloaks, it was clear that they were not entirely human. Although their bodies were those of men, they had the heads, claws and feet of black bears. Their clothing hung in rags about their bodies, and they wore thick bearskin belts around their waists.
“Bear-sarks,” Sophie whispered. “Berserkers.”
The three creatures produced short-handled battle-axes and black obsidian glass knives.
Josh scrambled to his feet and pulled his two swords free. Sophie took up a position to his left and balled her hands into fists. “Do you have any idea who we are?” Josh demanded.
“No.” The berserker’s voice was a brutal grunt. “Nor do we care. We have been sent to kill you,” he said. “It will not take long unless you fight. We hope you fight,” he added.
“Oh, we’ll fight,” Josh promised grimly.
“Good. More sport for us.”
CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO
“Virginia,” Dr. John Dee began, “I really do not think this is a good idea.”
Virginia Dare ignored him.
Dee fell into step beside the American immortal and caught her arm, forcing her to slow down. “Hang on, hang on, I’m not as young as I used to be.” He was red-faced and gasping. “I’m going to have a heart attack.”
Virginia’s face remained expressionless.
“I could die. Right here, right now,” he said.
Virginia’s lips turned up in a feral grin. She dropped a heavy hand on his shoulder. “Is that a threat or a promise?”
“Oh, you’re harsh. You weren’t always like this,” he grumbled.
“Like what?” she demanded. They were standing in the center of a fruit market and her raised voice attracted attention. Some of the stallholders and customers glanced at her curiously. Although she was wearing the white robe and conical hat of the humani of Danu Talis, it was clear that this young woman was different. It showed in the way she held herself, in the way she walked and especially in the way she dealt with the older man standing before her.
Virginia poked Dee in the shoulder with a stiffened finger. “Never once, not even once, in all the years of our association did you ever bother to try and find out any information about me. You know nothing about me.”
He glanced around nervously. “Lower your voice; people are starting to stare.”
“I don’t care.”
“I know you killed your Elder Master.”
“And that is all you know,” Virginia spat. “In fact, that is all anyone knows about me. The first thing everyone says to me is ‘Oh, you’re the immortal who killed her master.’ ”
“Well, it is an impressive fact,” Dee said. “There are probably a handful of people who can claim it, and of those, you’re the only one I’d believe.”
“What is going on here?” An Asterion, one of the huge, bull-headed guards, pushed through the gathering crowds and stepped in close—too close to Virginia—enveloping them in a strong farmyard odor of meat and manure.
Virginia didn’t turn to look at the creature. “You. Get away from me,” she ordered.
The Asterion’s huge mouth opened and closed in shock. No humani had ever spoken to him like that before.
Virginia ignored him and glared at the English Magician. “Am I married, do I have children? Siblings, perhaps? Parents? What is my favorite tea? Which ice cream gives me a rash?”
“Virginia?” Dee murmured, looking around. People had started to gather in a semicircle.
“You know nothing about me because you’ve never even asked. And that’s because you … simply … never … cared.” She emphasized the last three words by poking him in the chest.
The Asterion stepped in, hand falling to the whip attached to his side. “Let’s break this up. You are causing a disturbance.”
Virginia finally glanced sidelong at the bull-headed creature. “If you try to use that whip,” she said, “you will regret it.”
The beast rumbled a laugh. “Threatened by a humani girl. What is the world coming to?”
With a flick of her wrist Virginia turned him to stone.
A low moan ran around the market square and Virginia focused once more on Dee. “It doesn’t bother you that these people are enslaved?”
Dee looked at the people milling about. “No.”
“And why not?”
“They’re not my people, for a start,” The doctor grinned. He watched as an orderly line began to form, people coming up to tap on the stone statue that moments ago had been a soldier, first with their fingers, and then with coins or blades, testing it. They marveled at the level of detail on the statue, the creases in his leather uniform, the stone beads of perspiration on his forehead. They were awed by the huge brown eyes still moving i
n the statue’s face.
The circle around Virginia and Dee grew larger as the story of what had just happened raced through the marketplace.
“Look at them,” Virginia snapped. “These are your people. They are humans. Not Elders, not Next Generation, nor some hybrid monsters or Changelings. They are human. Just like you. And if you tell me that they are not just like you, then I am going to smack you or turn you to stone. Or both.”
Dee closed his mouth without a word.
“I was an orphan, living wild and alone in a primeval forest. I had no one. No friends, no family, nothing. But I was free. And I learned to value and treasure freedom. All through my long immortal life I have fought for freedom.”
“So when you wanted a world from me …”
“It was not what you imagined. I did not want a place where I would rule as a dictator. I wanted to create a place that was truly free.”
“You should have told me,” Dee suggested.
“You would have laughed at me—and you’d have regretted that,” Virginia promised.
A troop of Asterion led by a scarred anpu jogged into the square, drawn by the crowd. They carried whips and clubs and started pushing their way through, roughly shoving the people aside. Since the civil unrest had begun, Anubis had banned all humani gatherings.
The anpu leader spotted the people gathered before the Asterion statue and, puzzled, slowed to look at it. He’d been through this square on patrol less than an hour ago, and there hadn’t been a statue there. Also, he’d never seen a carving of one of the bull-headed warriors: why would someone create a statue of a beast? It wasn’t until he was within a few feet of the gray stone that he suddenly recognized the brutal features. It was one of his own men. He looked into his face … and huge terrified bovine eyes moved, silently pleading.
Shaken, the anpu commander staggered back and raised his closed fist. The Asterion troop fell into battle formation around him in a tight circle, spears and swords facing outward. The anpu’s fingers trembled as he scrabbled to lift a horn off his belt. He put the horn to his lips and blew to summon help.
Nothing happened.
Puzzled, he shook the horn and tried again. No sound came out.
He turned as a slender female humani stepped forward, lifted her hat and handed it to the old man at her side. She held a wooden flute pressed to her pursed lips, but the anpu could hear nothing. He dropped the horn and reached for his kopesh. But the metal turned to dust beneath his fingers, and then, abruptly, all the metal on his uniform, the buckles and hooks, the knife in his belt, was flaking, crumbling to dust and blowing away. Finally, his metal boots crumbled to dust around his feet.
The Asterion’s battle formation began to fall apart as their weapons, armor and finally, their clothing, cracked, snapped and dried to dribbling dust.
Someone in the crowd started to laugh. And then a second, and a third. A wave of laughter ran around the market square, growing and swelling into a roar of derision.
“Not quite the bully now without the leather and metal, are you?”
The anpu looked at the humani, unsure whether to attack or flee. There had been rumors in the barracks about a humani who’d crossed the canals, leaving at least two troops of anpu unconscious on the stones. He hadn’t believed the stories, of course. They were patently ridiculous.
“Tell your masters we’re coming,” the humani said. Her right hand spread out to encompass the crowd. “All of us.”
The anpu, his clothing in shreds, turned and fled, followed by the Asterion. The wave of mocking, jeering laugher went on for a very long time.
The people crowded in around Virginia and Dee, roaring their delight. “See,” Virginia laughed, “that is how you get the people on your side. You just make them laugh at the enemy. And we didn’t have to kill anyone.”
“What about the statue?”
“Oh, he’s not dead. It’ll wear off soon enough. Now let’s go talk to these people about freedom.” She climbed onto a fruit stall and reached out to help Dee stand beside her.
“So having the argument with me was just a ruse to draw attention to us?” he asked. “It was a trick?”
Virginia said nothing.
“Wasn’t it?”
The American immortal looked out over a sea of faces and spread her arms. Her mane of jet-black hair rose behind her like wings. The crowd rippled with murmurs and then fell into awed silence.
“What do you know about me?” she asked Dee quietly. “Besides the fact that I killed my Elder Master?”
He thought for a moment. “Nothing,” he admitted.
“And how long have we known one another?”
“A long time,” he said. “Four hundred years, perhaps more.”
Virginia looked at him and said nothing.
Dee shrugged. “You’re right. I should have asked. What can I say, I was selfish. But that was a different person in a different time. People can change. I’ve changed,” he said quickly. “I’m no longer immortal, for a start; that gives me a different perspective.”
“Humans of Danu Talis,” Virginia said loudly, her voice echoing across the still square. “I am Virginia Dare….”
“Virginiadare … Virginiadare … Virginiadare …” The crowd murmured her name as one word.
“And this is John Dee …”
“Johndee … Johndee … Johndee …”
“And we have come to set you free!”
The crowd howled, a long bellowing roar like the crash of a breaker on the shore.
“Cookie-dough ice cream,” she said suddenly, raising her voice above the shouts, “makes me break out in a rash.”
“Oh good.”
“Good?”
“It’s my favorite. It means all the more for me.”
CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE
With the destruction of the sphinx, all the monsters gathered on Alcatraz had suddenly become aware that they were not alone on the island. Most had turned on one another behind the metal bars of the prison cells, and the stone walls echoed with screams and howls. A new smell filled the air: the rich copper of blood.
Black Hawk led Billy and Machiavelli down a long cell-lined corridor called Michigan Avenue. Odin helped the injured Hel and Mars bring up the rear, protecting them from the creatures that darted from darkened corners.
Bill the Kid laughed. “They’re so busy eating one another, they couldn’t care less about us.”
“No,” Hel whispered, licking her lips. “Many of these creatures”—her whip sliced a trio of human-headed vampire bats out of the air—“many of these creatures are man hunters and blood drinkers. You three,” she said, jabbing the butt of the whip at Billy, Machiavelli and Black Hawk, “smell like a banquet to them. They will keep coming.”
“Are you saying I smell?” Billy demanded.
Hel’s nostrils flared as she breathed deeply. “Like roast chicken. With just a touch of rosemary.”
“What about you?” Billy demanded, turning to look at the three Elders. “You’re saying they won’t touch you?”
Odin shrugged. “None of us is safe,” he said. “While we are not human, we are still meat, and these poor things are hungry.”
“You feel sympathy for them?” Machiavelli asked. The Italian immortal had been bleeding from a shallow cut on the top of his head; he looked like he was wearing a red mask.
“They are not here by choice,” Odin answered. “They are as much prisoners as the humans who were incarcerated here in times past.”
“They will still kill and eat us,” Mars said grimly. He spun to one side as a three-headed serpent reared out of a darkened cell, spitting streamers of thick yellow ichor at him. His sword rose and fell and two of the heads dropped to the ground. “And if they escape into the city, they will feast for weeks or even months before they are captured.”
“None are getting off this island,” Black Hawk said grimly. He had reattached two of the leaf-shaped spearheads to wooden shafts and he tapped them, butt-first,
into the ground. “We will stand and fight.”
“Then you will die,” Hel said.
“People have been telling me that all my life,” Black Hawk said, shaking his head. “And I am still here, while they are not.”
An undersized minotaur appeared out of a cell and dropped heavy cloven hooves onto Billy the Kid’s shoulder, driving him to his knees. Machiavelli’s hand moved, trailing the rancid odor of snake. The minotaur suddenly howled, tossing its head from side to side as it began to scratch furiously, tearing grooves in its own flesh. Black Hawk swung the shaft of one of the spears, catching the beast’s legs, tugging them out from beneath it. It went down with a crash and rolled along the floor, shrieking and scratching furiously.
“Earwigs and fleas,” Machiavelli said with a smile. “I have always found them to be hugely underrated insects. Especially when inserted into the ears.”
“You put earwigs in his ears,” Billy said with a shudder. “That’s gross.”
“You are perfectly correct. Maybe you would have preferred that I let him take a bite out of you.”
Before Billy could answer, two satyrs stepped into an open doorway at the end of the corridor. They had the stunted torsos of men but the horns and legs of goats. Both were armed with short bone bows. They bleated with delight as they nocked black-headed arrows and pulled back their bowstrings.
Machiavelli made a half circle in the air with his hand, fingers opening and closing in a lightning-quick pattern.
The satyrs’ bleats turned to shrieks of alarm as their bowstrings twisted into writhing serpents and coiled up their arms. They flung the bows to the ground and raced out into the night.
“Illusion,” Machiavelli said. “Always my specialty.”
“You’re just full of surprises,” Billy said, impressed.
The Italian arched an eyebrow. “You have no idea.”
06 The Enchantress Page 26
