Nicholas Flamel 2 - The Magician sotinf-2

by Michael Scott

  remembered the time; she d been talking to her friend Elle in New York when

  she d spotted the long black car pulling up outside the bookshop. She d

  checked the time just before the man she now knew to be Dr. John Dee had

  climbed out of the car.

  Josh looked up. We have two e-mails from Mom, one from Dad.

  Read them to me. Start with the oldest.

  OK. Mom sent one on Friday, June first. Hope you re both behaving

  yourselves. How is Mrs. Fleming? Has she fully recovered? Josh looked up and

  frowned, confused.

  Sophie sighed. Remember? We told Mom that the bookshop closed because

  Perenelle wasn't feeling well. She shook her head. Try and keep up!

  It s been a little busy, Josh reminded her. I can t remember everything.

  Besides, that s your job.

  Then we said that Nicholas and Perenelle had invited us to spend some time

  with them in their house in the desert.

  So. Josh looked at his sister, fingers hovering over the keys. What will I

  tell Mom?

  Tell her that everything s OK and Perenelle is feeling a lot better.

  Remember to call them Nick and Perry, though, she reminded him.

  Thanks, he said, hitting the backspace key, replacing Perenelle with Perry.

  His fingers skipped over the keys as he typed. OK, next one, he continued.

  From Mom again, dated yesterday. Tried phoning, but my call goes directly

  to your voice mail. Is everything OK? Got a call from your aunt Agnes. She

  said you didn't come home to collect any clothes or toiletries. Give me a

  number where I can call you. We re worried. Josh looked at his sister. So

  what do we tell her now?

  Sophie chewed on her bottom lip, thinking aloud. We should tell her She

  hesitated. Tell her we had the things with us at the shop. She knows we have

  clothes there. That s not a lie. I hate lying to her.

  Got it, Josh said, typing fast. The twins both kept clothes in his locker

  in the back room of the bookshop for the occasional evening when they went to

  the movies or walked down to the Embarcadero.

  Tell her we have no cell service here. Just don't say where here is, she

  added with a smile.

  Josh looked disgusted. You mean we have no cell phones

  I ve still got mine, but the battery is dead. Tell Mom that we ll call as

  soon as we get a signal.

  Josh continued to type. His finger hovered over the Enter key. Is that it?

  Send it.

  He hit Enter. Sent!

  And you said there was an e-mail from Dad? she asked.

  It s for me. He opened it, read it quickly and smiled broadly. He s sent a

  jpeg of some fossil shark teeth he found. They look pretty good. And he s got

  some new coprolites for my collection.

  Coprolites. Sophie shook her head in mock disgust. Fossilized poo! Why

  couldn't you collect stamps or coins like a regular person? It s just too

  weird.

  Weird? Josh looked up, suddenly irritated. Weird! Let me tell you what s

  weird: we re in a house with a two-thousand-year-old vegetarian vampire, an

  immortal alchemist, another immortal who s a musician specializing in Fire

  magic and a French heroine who should have died sometime in the middle of the

  fifteenth century. He nudged the sword on the floor with his foot. And

  let s not forget the sword that was used to kill King Arthur. Josh s voice

  had been rising as he spoke and he suddenly stopped and drew in a deep

  shuddering breath, calming himself. He started to smile. Compared to all

  that, I think collecting fossil poo is probably the least weird thing around

  here! His smile turned to a grin and Sophie smiled, and then they were both

  laughing. Josh laughed so hard he got the hiccups, and that made them laugh

  even harder, until tears ran down their cheeks and their stomachs hurt.

  Oh, stop, Josh moaned. He hiccupped again, and they both dissolved into

  near hysteria.

  It took a tremendous effort of will to control themselves, but for the first

  time since Sophie had been Awakened, Josh felt close to her again. Usually,

  they laughed every day; heading into work on Thursday morning was the last

  time they d laughed together as they d watched a skinny man in roller skates

  and running shorts being pulled along by a huge Dalmatian. All they needed to

  do was to keep finding things to laugh at but unfortunately, there hadn't

  been too many of those over the past few days.

  Sophie sobered up first and turned back to the window. She could see her

  brother in the glass and waited until he looked down at the screen before she

  spoke. I m surprised you didn't object more when Nicholas suggested that

  Francis train me in Fire magic, she said.

  Josh raised his eyes and looked at his sister s face reflected in the window.

  Would it have made any difference if I had? he asked seriously.

  She took a moment to think. No. I suppose not, she admitted.

  I didn't think so. You d still have done it.

  Sophie turned to look directly at her twin. I have to. I need to.

  I know, he said simply. I know that now.

  Sophie blinked in surprise. You know?

  Josh closed the laptop and dropped it on the bed. Then he picked up the sword

  and rested it across his knees, absently rubbing the smooth blade. The stone

  felt warm. I was angry, scared no, more than scared terrified when Flamel

  had Hekate Awaken you. He didn't tell us about the dangers. He didn't tell us

  that you could have died, or fallen into a coma. I ll never forgive him for

  that.

  He was pretty sure nothing would happen .

  Pretty sure isn't sure enough.

  Sophie nodded, not trusting herself to speak.

  And then, when the Witch of Endor passed her knowledge to you, I was scared

  again. But not so much scared for you I was scared of you, he admitted very

  softly.

  Josh, how can you even say that? Sophie began, genuinely shocked. I m your

  twin. The look on his face silenced her.

  You haven t seen what I ve seen, he said earnestly. I watched you stand up

  to the cat-headed woman. I saw your lips move, but when you spoke, the words

  were out of sync, and when you looked at me, you didn't recognize me. I don't

  know what you were but you weren t my twin sister then. You were possessed.

  Sophie blinked and huge tears rolled down her cheeks. She had only the

  vaguest memories, little more than dreamlike fragments, of what her brother

  was talking about.

  Then, in Ojai, I watched you make whirlwinds, and today yesterday I saw you

  make fog out of nothing.

  I don't know how I do those things, she murmured.

  I know, Soph, I know. He stood up and crossed to the window, looking out

  over the rooftops of Paris. I understand that now. I've been thinking about

  it a lot. Your powers have been Awakened, but the only way you ll be able to

  control them, the only way you ll be safe, is by being trained. At the moment

  they are as much a danger to you as they are to our enemies. Joan of Arc

  helped you today, didn't she?

  Yes, she helped a lot. I don't hear the voices anymore. That s a huge help.

  But there s another reason too, isn't there? Sophie asked.

  Josh turned the sword over in his hand, the blade almost black in the night, />
  tiny flecks of crystal in the stone winking like stars. We have no idea what

  sort of trouble we re in, he said slowly. But we do know that we re in

  danger real danger. We re fifteen years old we shouldn't be thinking about

  being killed or eaten or worse! He waved vaguely in the direction of the

  door. I don't trust them. The only person I can trust is you the real you.

  But Josh, Sophie said very gently, I do trust them. They are good people.

  Scatty has fought for humanity for over two thousand years, and Joan is a

  kind and gentle person .

  And Flamel has kept the Codex hidden away for centuries, Josh said quickly.

  He touched his chest and Sophie heard the crackle of the two pages in the bag

  Flamel had given him. There are recipes in this book that could make this

  planet a paradise, could cure every disease. He saw the flicker of doubt in

  her eyes and pressed on. And you know that s true.

  The Witch s memories also tell me that there are recipes in the book that

  could destroy this world.

  Josh shook his head quickly. I think you re seeing what they want you to

  see.

  Sophie pointed to the sword. But why did Flamel give you the sword and the

  Codex pages? she asked triumphantly.

  I think I know they re using us. I just don't know what for. Not yet,

  anyway. He saw his twin start to shake her head. Anyway, we re going to

  need your powers to keep us both safe.

  Sophie reached out and squeezed her brother s hand. You know I d never let

  anything hurt you.

  I know that, Josh said seriously. At least, not deliberately. But what

  happens if something uses you, like it did in the Shadowrealm?

  Sophie nodded. I had no control then, she admitted. It was like I was in a

  dream, watching someone who looked like me.

  My football coach says that before you can take control, you have to be in

  control. If you can learn how to control your aura and master the magics,

  Josh continued, no one would be able to do that to you ever again. You d be

  incredibly powerful. And let s say, for instance, that my power isn't

  Awakened. I can learn how to use this sword. He twisted it in his hand,

  attempting to spin the blade, but it slipped sideways and cut a deep gouge in

  the wall. Oops.

  Josh!

  What? You can hardly notice it. He rubbed his sleeve against the cut. Paint

  and plaster flaked away, exposing the brickwork beneath.

  You re making it worse. And you've probably taken a chunk out of the sword.

  But when Josh held the weapon up to the light, there wasn't even a mark on

  the blade.

  Sophie nodded slowly. I still think I know you re wrong about Flamel and the

  others.

  Sophie, you have to trust me.

  I trust you. But remember, the Witch knows these people, and she trusts

  them.

  Sophie, Josh said in frustration, we don't know anything about the Witch.

  Oh, Josh, I know everything about the Witch, Sophie said feelingly. She

  tapped her temple with her forefinger. And I wish I didn't. Her entire life,

  thousands of years, are in here. Josh opened his mouth to reply, but Sophie

  held up her hand. Here s what I ll do: I ll work with Saint-Germain, learn

  everything he has to teach me.

  And keep an eye on him at the same time; try and find out what he and Flamel

  are up to.

  Sophie ignored him. Maybe the next time we re attacked, we ll be able to

  defend ourselves. She looked across the rooftops of Paris. At least we re

  safe here.

  But for how long? her twin asked.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  D r. John Dee turned off the light and stepped out of the enormous bedroom

  onto the balcony, resting his forearms on the metal railing and looking out

  over the city of Paris. It had rained earlier and the air was damp and chill,

  tainted with the sour smell from the Seine and the hint of exhaust fumes.

  He hated Paris.

  It had not always been that way. Once, this had been his favorite city in all

  of Europe, filled with the most wonderful and extraordinary memories. After

  all, he had been made immortal in this city. In a dungeon deep below the

  Bastille, the prison fortress, the Crow Goddess had taken him to the Elder

  who had granted him eternal life in return for unquestioning loyalty.

  Dr. John Dee had worked for the Elders, spied for them, undertaken many

  dangerous missions through countless Shadowrealms. He had fought armies of

  the dead and undead, pursued monsters across bitter wastelands, stolen some

  of the most precious and magical objects sacred to a dozen civilizations. In

  time he had become the champion of the Dark Elders; nothing was beyond him,

  no mission was too difficult except when it came to the Flamels. The English

  Magician had failed, over and over, to capture Nicholas and Perenelle Flamel,

  several times in this very city.

  It remained one of the greatest mysteries of his long existence: how had the

  Flamels evaded him? He commanded an army of human, inhuman and abhuman

  agents; he had access to the birds of the air; he could command rats, cats

  and dogs. He had at his disposal creatures from the darkest edges of

  mythology. But for more than four hundred years, the Flamels had escaped

  capture, first here in Paris, then across Europe and into America, always

  staying one step ahead of him, often leaving town only hours before he

  arrived. It was almost as if they were being warned. But that, of course, was

  impossible. The Magician shared his plans with no one.

  A door opened and closed in the room behind him. Dee s nostrils flared,

  smelling a hint of musty serpent. Good evening, Niccol , Dee said, without

  turning around.

  Welcome to Paris. Niccol Machiavelli spoke Latin with an Italian accent.

  I trust you had a good flight and that the room is to your satisfaction?

  Machiavelli had arranged for Dee to be met at the airport and given a police

  escort to his grand town house off the Place du Canada.

  Where are they? Dee asked rudely, ignoring his host s questions, asserting

  his authority. He might have been a few years younger than the Italian, but

  he was in charge.

  Machiavelli stepped out of the room and stood beside Dee on the balcony.

  Unwilling to wrinkle his suit against the metal railing, he stood with his

  hands clasped behind his back. The tall, elegant, clean-shaven Italian with

  close-cropped white hair was in great contrast with the small sharp-featured

  man with his pointed beard and his gray hair pulled back in a tight ponytail.

  They are still in Saint-Germain s house. And Flamel has recently joined

  them.

  Dr. Dee glanced sidelong at Machiavelli. I m surprised you were not tempted

  to try and capture them yourself, he said slyly.

  Machiavelli looked over the city he controlled. Oh, I thought I would leave

  their final capture to you, he said mildly.

  You mean you were instructed to leave them to me, Dee snapped.

  Machiavelli said nothing.

  Saint-Germain s house is completely surrounded?

  Completely.

  And there are only five people in the house? No servants, no guards?

  The Alchemyst and Saint-Germain, the twins and th
e Shadow.

  Scathach is the problem, Dee muttered.

  I may have a solution, Machiavelli suggested softly. He waited until the

  Magician turned to look at him, his stone gray eyes blinking orange in the

  reflected streetlights. I sent for the Disir, Scathach s fiercest foes.

  Three of them have just arrived.

  A rare smile curled Dee s thin lips. Then he moved back from Machiavelli and

  bowed slightly. The Valkyries a truly excellent choice.

  We are on the same side, Machiavelli bowed in return. We serve the same

  masters.

  The Magician was about to step back into the room when he stopped and turned

  to look at Machiavelli. For a moment, the faintest rotten-egg hint of sulfur

  hung in the air. You have no idea whom I serve, he said.

  Dagon threw open the tall double doors and stepped back. Niccol Machiavelli

  and Dr. John Dee strode into the ornate book-filled library to greet their

  visitors.

  There were three young women in the room.

  At first glance they were so alike that they could have been triplets. Tall

  and thin, with shoulder-length blond hair, they were dressed alike in black

  tanks under soft leather jackets and blue jeans tucked into knee-high boots.

  Their faces were all angles: sharp cheekbones, deeply sunken eyes, pointed

  chins. Only their eyes helped distinguish them. They were different shades of

  blue, from the palest sapphire to deep, almost purple indigo. All three

  looked as if they might have been sixteen or seventeen, but in actuality,

  they were older than most civilizations.

  They were the Disir.

  Machiavelli stepped into the center of the room and turned to look at each of

  the girls in turn, trying to tell them apart. One was sitting at the grand

  piano, another was lounging on the sofa, while a third leaned against a

  window, staring out into the night, an unopened leather-bound book in her

  hands. As he got closer to them, their heads pivoted, and he noticed that

  their eye colors matched their nail polish. Thank you for coming, he said,

  speaking Latin, which, along with Greek, was the one language most of the

  Elders were familiar with.

  The girls looked at him blankly.

  Machiavelli glanced at Dagon, who had stepped into the room and closed the

  door behind him. He pulled off his glasses, revealing his bulbous eyes, and

  spoke quickly in a language no human throat or tongue could shape.