Nicholas Flamel 2 - The Magician sotinf-2

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Nicholas Flamel 2 - The Magician sotinf-2 Page 7

by Michael Scott


  five and a half thousand miles away, the phone started ringing. It was

  answered on the second ring. Ojai Valley News; how can I help? The young

  woman s voice was surprisingly clear.

  Nicholas deliberately affected a thick French accent. Good morning or

  rather, good evening to you. I m delighted to find you still at the office.

  This is Monsieur Montmorency, phoning you from Paris, France. I m a reporter

  with Le Monde newspaper. I ve just seen online that you've had quite an

  exciting evening there.

  Gosh news does travel fast, Mr. Montmorency.

  Montmorency. Yes, we ve had quite an evening. How can we help?

  We would like to include a piece in this evening s paper I was wondering if

  you had a reporter on the scene?

  Actually, all our reporters are downtown at the moment.

  Would it be possible to put me through, do you think? I can get a quick

  on-the-spot description of the scene and a comment. When there was no

  immediate response, he added quickly, There would be a proper credit for

  your newspaper, of course.

  Let me see if I can patch you through to one of our reporters on the street,

  Mr. Montmorency.

  Merci. I am very grateful.

  The line clicked again, and there was a long pause. Nicholas guessed that the

  receptionist was talking to the reporter before transferring the call. There

  was another click, and the girl said, Putting you through . He was saying

  thank you when the phone was answered.

  Michael Carroll, Ojai Valley News. I understand you re calling from Paris,

  France? There was a note of incredulity in the man s voice.

  Indeed I am, Monsieur Carroll.

  News travels fast, the reporter said, echoing the receptionist.

  The Internet, Flamel said vaguely, adding, There s a video on YouTube. He

  had absolutely no doubt that there were videos of the scene in Ojai online.

  He turned to stare out into the Internet caf . From where he was standing he

  could see half a dozen screens; each one displayed a Web page in a different

  language. I ve been asked to get a quote for our arts and culture page. One

  of our editors has visited your beautiful city often and bought several

  amazing glass pieces from an antiques shop on Ojai Avenue. I m not sure if

  you know it: the shop sells only mirrors and glassware, Flamel added.

  Witcherly Antiques, Michael Carroll said immediately. I know it well. I m

  afraid it was completely destroyed in an explosion.

  Flamel felt suddenly breathless. Hekate had died because he had brought the

  twins into her Shadowrealm; had the Witch of Endor shared Hekate s fate? He

  cleared his throat and swallowed hard. And the owner, Mrs. Witcherly? Is

  she ?

  She s fine, the reporter said, and Flamel felt a wave of relief wash over

  him. I've just taken a statement from her. She s in remarkably good spirits

  for someone whose shop has just blown up. He laughed and added, She said

  that when you've lived as long as she has, nothing much surprises you.

  Is she still there? Flamel asked, trying to contain the eagerness is his

  voice. Would she like to make a statement for the French press? Tell her

  it s Nicholas Montmorency. We spoke once before; I m sure she ll remember

  me, he added.

  I'll ask .

  The voice faded away and Flamel heard the reporter calling out for Dora

  Witcherly. In the background, he also heard the sound of countless police,

  fire and ambulance sirens and the fainter shouts and cries of distressed

  people.

  And it was all his fault.

  He shook his head quickly. No, it was not his fault. This was Dee s doing.

  Dee knew no sense of proportion; he had almost burned London'to the ground in

  1666, had devastated Ireland with the Great Famine in the 1840s, had

  destroyed most of San Francisco in 1906 and now he d emptied the graveyards

  around Ojai. No doubt the streets were littered with bones and bodies.

  Nicholas heard the reporter s muted voice and then the sound of the cell

  phone being handed over.

  Monsieur Montmorency? Dora said politely in perfect French.

  Madame. You are unharmed?

  Dora s voice fell to a whisper and she slipped into an archaic form of the

  French language that would be incomprehensible to any modern eavesdropper.

  It s not that easy to kill me, she said quickly. Dee has escaped, cut,

  bruised, battered and very, very upset. You are all safe? Scathach too?

  Scatty is safe. However, we've had an encounter with Niccol Machiavelli.

  So he s still around. Dee must have warned him. Be careful, Nicholas.

  Machiavelli is more dangerous than you can imagine. He is even more cunning

  than Dee. Now I must hurry, she added urgently. This reporter is getting

  suspicious. He probably thinks I m giving you a better story than I gave him.

  What do you want?

  I need your help, Dora. I need to know who I can trust in Paris. I need to

  get the children off the streets. They re exhausted.

  Hmmm. The line crackled with the sound of rustling paper. I don't know who

  is in Paris at the moment. But I ll find out, she said decisively. What

  time is it there?

  He glanced at his watch and did the math. Five-thirty in the morning.

  Get to the Eiffel Tower. Be there by seven a.m. and wait for ten minutes. If

  I can find someone trustworthy, I ll have them meet you there. If no one you

  recognize arrives, go back at eight and then at nine. If no one is there by

  nine, then you ll know there is no one in Paris you can trust, and you will

  have to make your own arrangements.

  Thank you, Madame Dora, he said quietly. I ll not forget this debt.

  There are no debts between friends, she said. Oh, and Nicholas, try and

  keep my granddaughter out of trouble.

  I ll do my best, Flamel said. But you know what she s like: she seems to

  attract trouble. Though right now, she s watching over the twins in a caf

  not far from here. At least she can t get into any trouble there.

  CHAPTER TEN

  S cathach brought her leg up, pressed the sole of her foot against the seat

  of a chair and shoved hard. The wooden chair skipped across the floor and

  slammed into the two police officers as they pushed through the door. They

  crashed to the ground, a radio flying from the hand of one, a baton from the

  hand of the other. The squawking radio skidded to a halt at Josh s feet. He

  leaned over and poured his hot chocolate on it. It died in a fizz of sparks.

  Scathach surged to her feet. Without turning her head, she raised an arm and

  pointed at Roux. You. Stay right where you are. And don't even think about

  phoning for the police.

  Heart hammering, Josh grabbed Sophie and pulled her away from the table,

  toward the back of the shop, shielding her with his body from the police at

  the door.

  One of the officers raised a gun. And Scatty s nunchaku struck it in the

  barrel with enough force to bend the metal and send the weapon spinning from

  the man's hand.

  The second officer scrambled to his feet, pulling out a long black baton.

  Scathach s right shoulder dipped and the nunchaku reversed direction in

  midair, the twelve-inch length of hardened wood striking the pol
ice baton

  just above its short handle. The baton shattered into ragged splinters.

  Scathach flipped the nunchaku back and it dropped into her outstretched hand.

  I m in a really bad mood, she said in perfect French. Believe me when I

  tell you that you really do not want to fight me.

  Scatty , Josh hissed in alarm.

  Not now, the Warrior snapped in English. Can t you see I m busy?

  Yeah, well, you re about to get busier, Josh shouted. A lot busier. Look

  outside.

  A police riot squad, in black body armor, full-face helmets and shields,

  armed with batons and assault rifles, were racing down the street, straight

  for the caf .

  RAID, the shop assistant whispered in horror.

  Just like SWAT, Scathach said in English, only tougher. She sounded

  almost pleased. Glancing sidelong at Roux, she snapped in French, Is there a

  back door?

  The shop assistant was shocked into immobility, staring at the approaching

  squad, and didn't react until Scathach whipped out the nunchaku and the

  rounded end whistled past his face, the breeze making him blink.

  Is there a back door? she demanded again, but in English.

  Yes, yes, of course.

  Then get my friends out.

  No , Josh began.

  Let me do something, Sophie said, a dozen wind spells flickering into her

  consciousness. I can help .

  No, Josh protested, and reached for his twin just as her blond hair

  crackled, sparkling silver.

  Out! Scatty shouted, and suddenly it was as if the planes and angles of her

  face had altered, cheekbones and chin becoming prominent, green eyes turned

  to reflective glass. For an instant, there was something ancient and

  primeval and totally alien in her face. I can take care of this. She

  started spinning the nunchaku, creating an impenetrable shield between her

  and the two policemen. One officer picked up a chair and flung it at her, but

  the nunchaku turned it to matchwood.

  Roux get them out now! Scatty snarled.

  This way, the terrified clerk said in American-accented English. He pushed

  past the twins and led them down a narrow chilly corridor and out into a

  small foul-smelling yard piled high with trash cans, bits of broken

  restaurant furniture and the skeleton of a long-abandoned Christmas tree.

  Behind them came the sound of breaking wood.

  Roux pointed to a red gate and continued in English. His face was the color

  of chalk. That leads to the alleyway. Turn left for the Rue de Dunkerque;

  right will bring you down to the Gare du Nord Metro station. Behind them

  there was a tremendous smash, followed by the sound of breaking glass. Your

  friend, she is in so much trouble, he moaned miserably. And RAID will wreck

  the shop. How am I going to explain that to the owner?

  There was another crash from inside. A slate tile slid off the roof and

  crashed into the yard.

  Go, go now. He spun the combination lock and tugged the gate open.

  Sophie and Josh ignored him. What do we do? Josh asked his twin. Go or

  stay?

  Sophie shook her head. She glanced at Roux and lowered her voice to a

  whisper. We have nowhere to go we don't know anyone in the city except

  Scatty and Nicholas. We don't have any money and we have no passports.

  We could go to the American embassy. Josh turned to Roux. Is there an

  American embassy in Paris?

  Yes, of course, on the Avenue Gabriel, beside the H tel de Crillon. The

  shaven-headed youth cringed as a colossal thump shook the whole building,

  filling the air with minute particles of dust. The glass in the window beside

  them cracked from top to bottom and more tiles slid off the roof, to rain

  down into the yard.

  And what do we tell the embassy? Sophie demanded. They ll want to know how

  we got here.

  Kidnapped? Josh suggested. And then a sudden thought struck him and he felt

  sick. And what do we tell Mom and Dad? How are we going to explain it to

  them?

  Crockery tinkled and shattered, and then there was a tremendous crack.

  Sophie cocked her head to one side and brushed her hair off her ear. That

  was the main window. She took a step back toward the door. I should help

  her. Wisps of mist curled off her fingers as she reached for the handle.

  No! Josh snatched her hand, and static crackled between them. You can t

  use your powers, he whispered urgently. You re too exhausted; remember what

  Scatty said. You could burst into flames.

  She s our friend we can t abandon her, Sophie snapped. I won t, anyway.

  Her brother was a loner and had never been good at making or keeping friends

  in school, whereas she was intensely loyal to hers, and she had started to

  think of Scatty as more than just a friend. Although she loved her brother

  deeply, she had always wanted a sister.

  Josh caught Sophie s shoulders and turned her to face him. He was already a

  head taller than she was and had to look down into the blue eyes that

  mirrored his own. She s not our friend, Sophie, his voice low and serious.

  She s never going to be our friend. She s a

  two-and-a-half-thousand-year-old something. She admitted to us that she s a

  vampire. You saw the way her face changed in there: she s not even human.

  And and I m not sure she s all Flamel makes her out to be. I know he isn't!

  What do you mean? Sophie demanded. What are you trying to say?

  Josh opened his mouth to reply, but a series of rattling thumps vibrated

  through the entire building. Whimpering with fear, Roux darted out into the

  alley. The twins ignored him.

  What do you mean? Sophie asked again.

  Dee said

  Dee!

  I talked to him in Ojai. When you were in the shop with the Witch of Endor.

  But he s our enemy!

  Only because Flamel says he is, Josh said quickly. Sophie, Dee told me

  that Flamel is a criminal and Scathach is basically just a hired thug. He

  said that she was cursed for her crimes to wear the body of a teenager for

  the rest of her life. He shook his head quickly and hurried on, his voice

  low and desperate. Sis, we know next to nothing about these people Flamel,

  Perenelle and Scathach. The only thing we do know is that they ve made you

  different dangerously different. They ve taken us halfway across the world,

  and look where we are now. Even as he was speaking, the building shook, and

  then a dozen more tiles slid off the roof and crashed into the yard, sending

  razor-sharp fragments flying around them. Josh yelped as a chunk stung his

  arm. We can t trust them, Soph. We shouldn't.

  Josh, you have no idea what powers they ve given me . Sophie caught her

  brother s arm, and the air, which was foul with the stink of rotting food,

  was touched with the odor of vanilla, and then, a moment later, the scent of

  oranges as Josh s aura flared briefly golden. Oh, Josh, the things I could

  tell you. I know everything the Witch of Endor knew .

  And it s making you sick! Josh yelled angrily. And don't forget, if you

  use your powers one more time, you could literally explode.

  The twins auras flared gold and silver. Sophie squeezed her eyes shut as a

  flood of impressions, vague thoughts and random i
deas slammed into her

  consciousness. Her blue eyes blinked, momentarily silver, and she suddenly

  realized that she was experiencing her brother s thoughts. She wrenched her

  hand away from him and the thoughts and sensations immediately faded.

  You re jealous! she whispered in amazement. Jealous of my powers.

  Color touched Josh s cheeks, and Sophie saw the truth in his eyes even before

  he spoke the lie. I am not!

  Suddenly, a black-clad police officer burst through the door and out into the

  yard. There was a long crack running down the front of his face visor, and he

  was missing one of his black boots. Without pausing, he limped past them and

  ran into the alley. They could hear the pat of his naked foot and the slap of

  the leather sole fade away.

  Then Scatty strolled out into the yard. She was twirling her nunchaku as if

  she were Charlie Chaplin swinging a cane. There wasn't a hair out of place or

  a mark on her body, and her green eyes were bright and alert. Oh, I m in a

  much better mood now, she announced.

  The twins looked past her into the corridor. Nothing and no one moved in the

  darkness beyond.

  But there were about ten of them , Sophie began.

  Scathach shrugged. Twelve, actually.

  Armed , Josh said. He glanced sidelong at his sister, then back at the

  Warrior. He swallowed hard. You didn't didn't kill them, did you?

  Wood snapped and something collapsed in the shop

  No, they re just sleeping. Scatty smiled.

  But how did you Josh began.

  I am the Warrior, Scatty said simply.

  Sophie caught a hint of movement and opened her mouth to scream just as the

  shape appeared out of the corridor and a long-fingered hand fell on

  Scathach s shoulder. The Warrior didn't react.

  I can t leave you alone for ten minutes, Nicholas Flamel said, stepping out

  of the shadows. He nodded at the open gate. We d better go, he added,

  ushering them toward the alleyway.

  You missed the fight, Josh told him. There were ten of them .

  Twelve, Scathach corrected him quickly.

  I know, the Alchemyst said with a wry smile, only twelve: they didn't

  stand a chance.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  E scaped! Dr. John Dee snarled into the cell phone. You had them

  surrounded. How could you let them escape?

 

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