Nicholas Flamel 2 - The Magician sotinf-2

by Michael Scott

  And then she saw something.

  Directly in front of her she could make out the merest hint of Josh s

  outline. It was ghostly and insubstantial, composed of little more than

  threads and sparkling dust motes of gold, and when he moved he trailed

  streaked lines of gossamer color in the air behind him. Now that she knew

  what she was looking for, she could also make out the traces of Dee s and

  Machiavelli s outlines in the air.

  She blinked slowly, afraid that the images would vanish, but they remained

  hanging in the air before her, and if anything, the colors grew even more

  intense. Josh s aura was the brightest of all. She reached out blindly, her

  fingers touching the golden edge of her brother s arm. The smoky outline

  twisted away as if blown by a breeze.

  I see them, she said in awe, her voice barely above a whisper. She d never

  imagined she d be able to do anything like this. I can see their outlines.

  Where did they go? Nicholas asked.

  Sophie followed the colored streaks in the air; they led to the end of the

  alley. This way, she said, and set off down the alleyway toward the street,

  with Nicholas close on her heels.

  Joan of Arc took one last lingering look at her battered car and then

  followed.

  What are you thinking? Flamel asked.

  I m thinking that when this is all over, I m going to return the car to its

  former pristine condition. And then never take it out of the garage again.

  Something s wrong, Flamel said as they wove their way through the streets.

  Sophie was concentrating fiercely on following her twin and ignored him.

  I ve just been thinking the same thing, Joan said. The city is too quiet.

  Exactly. Flamel looked around. Where were the Parisians on their way to

  work and the tourists determined to get to see the sights before the city

  grew stifling hot and crowded? The few people on the street hurried past,

  talking excitedly together. The air was filled with sirens, and there were

  police everywhere. And then Nicholas realized that Nidhogg s rampage through

  the city had probably hit the news and people were being warned to stay off

  the streets. He wondered what excuse the authorities would make to explain

  the chaos.

  Sophie pushed her way blindly down the street, following the gossamer threads

  that Josh s, Dee s and Machiavelli s auras had left in the air behind them.

  She kept bumping into people and apologizing, but she never took her eyes off

  the sparkles of light. And then she noticed that as the sun rose higher in

  the heavens, it was becoming harder and harder to make out the pinpoints of

  colored light. She realized she was running out of time.

  Joan of Arc caught up with the Alchemyst. Can she really see the afterimages

  left by their auras? she asked in archaic French.

  She can, Nicholas replied in the same language. The girl is

  extraordinarily powerful: she has no idea of the extent of her powers.

  Have you any clue where we re going? Joan asked, looking around. She

  thought they were somewhere in the vicinity of the Palais de Tokyo, but she d

  been concentrating on the marks on the road left by the police car and hadn't

  been paying too much attention to their whereabouts.

  None, Nicholas said, frowning. I m just wondering why we seem to be

  heading into the back streets. I would have thought that Machiavelli would

  want to take the boy into custody.

  Nicholas, they want the boy for themselves, or rather, the Elders do. What

  does the prophecy say? The two that are one, the one that is all. One to

  save the world, one to destroy it. The boy is a prize. Without moving her

  head, her eyes flickered toward Sophie. And the girl, too.

  I know that.

  Joan rested her hand lightly on the Alchemyst s arm. You know that we must

  never allow both of them to fall into Dee s hands.

  Flamel s face hardened into a mask. I know that, too.

  What will you do?

  Whatever is necessary, he said grimly.

  Joan pulled out a black cell phone. I m calling Francis; I ll let him know

  we re OK. She looked around for a landmark. Maybe he ll know where we are.

  Sophie turned into a narrow alleyway, barely wide enough for two people to

  pass side by side. In the gloom, she could see the threads and speckled light

  more clearly now. She even caught ghostly flashes of her brother s outline.

  She felt her spirits lift; maybe they were going to catch up with him.

  Then, abruptly, the auras vanished.

  She stopped, confused and frightened. What had happened? Looking back down

  the alley, she could see the traces of their auras in the air, gold and

  yellow Josh and Dee, side by side Machiavelli s gray following along behind.

  They reached the center of the alleyway and stopped, and she could distinctly

  see the outline of her brother s body picked out in gold standing almost

  directly in front of her. Squinting, concentrating hard, she attempted to

  bring his aura into focus .

  He was looking down, mouth open.

  Sophie stepped back. Directly under her feet was a large manhole cover, with

  the letters IDC pressed into the metal. Tiny speckles of the three auras were

  streaked across the cover, outlining each letter in a different color.

  Sophie? Nicholas began.

  She felt a rush of excitement: relief that she hadn't lost him. They ve gone

  down, she said.

  Down? he asked, turning a sickly pale color. His voice dropped to little

  more than a whisper. Are you sure?

  Positive, she said, alarmed at the expression on his face. Why, what s

  wrong? What s down there? Sewers?

  Sewers and worse. The Alchemyst suddenly looked very old and tired. Below

  us are the legendary Catacombs of Paris, he whispered.

  Joan crouched down and pointed to where the mud around the edge of the

  manhole cover was disturbed. This was opened very recently. She looked up,

  her expression grim. You re right; they ve taken him down into the Empire of

  the Dead.

  CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

  O h, stop that! Perenelle bashed the spider Elder on the top of the head

  with the flat side of the spear in her hand. The ancient symbol of power

  blazed white-hot and the spider darted back into the cell, the top of its

  skull sizzling, gray smoke curling upward.

  That hurt! Areop-Enap snapped, more irritated than wounded. You re always

  hurting me. You nearly killed me the last time I saw you.

  And let me remind you that the last time we met, your followers attempted to

  sacrifice me to activate an extinct volcano. Naturally, I was a little

  upset.

  You brought down an entire mountain on top of me, Areop-Enap said in a

  peculiar lisp caused by its overlong fangs. You could have killed me.

  It was only a small mountain, Perenelle reminded the creature. She thought

  Areop-Enap was female but couldn't be entirely sure. you've survived worse.

  All of Areop-Enap s eyes were on the spear in Perenelle s hand. Can you at

  least tell me where I am?

  On Alcatraz. Or rather, below Alcatraz, an island in the San Francisco Bay

  on the West Coast of the Americas.

  The New World? Areop-Enap asked.

  Yes, the New
World, Perenelle said, smiling. The reclusive spider Elder

  often hibernated for centuries and missed huge chunks of human history.

  What are you doing here? Areop-Enap asked.

  I am a prisoner like you. She stepped back. If I lower the spear, are you

  going to do something stupid?

  Like what?

  Like jump at me.

  All the hairs on Areop-Enap s legs rose and fell in unison. Truce? the

  spider Elder suggested.

  Perenelle nodded. Truce, she agreed. It seems we have a common enemy.

  Areop-Enap moved to the door of the cell. Do you know how I got here?

  I was rather hoping you would be able to tell me that, Perenelle said.

  Keeping several wary eyes on the glowing spear, the spider took a tentative

  step out into the corridor. The last place I remember was Igup Island. It s

  part of Polynesia, it added.

  Micronesia, Perenelle said. The name changed more than one hundred and

  fifty years ago. Just how long have you been asleep, Old Spider? she asked,

  calling the creature by its common name.

  I m not sure when did we last meet and have our little misunderstanding? In

  humani years, Sorceress, it added.

  When Nicholas and I were on Pohnpei investigating the ruins of Nan Madol,

  Perenelle said immediately. She had an almost perfect memory. That was about

  two hundred years ago, she added.

  I probably took a nap sometime about then, Areop-Enap said, stepping out

  into the corridor. Behind it, the cell came alive with millions of spiders.

  I remember waking from a very nice nap, it said slowly. I saw the Magician

  Dee but he was not alone. There was someone else something else with him.

  Instructing him.

  Who? Perenelle asked urgently. Try and remember, Old Spider, this is

  important.

  Areop-Enap closed each of its eyes as it tried to recall what had happened.

  Something is preventing me, it said, all its eyes opening simultaneously.

  Something powerful. Whoever was with him was protected by an extraordinarily

  powerful magical shield. Areop-Enap looked up and down the corridor. That

  way? it asked.

  This way. Perenelle pointed with the spear. Even though Areop-Enap had

  called a truce, Perenelle was not prepared to stand unarmed before one of the

  most powerful of the Elders. I wonder why he wanted you prisoner. A sudden

  thought struck her and she stopped so quickly that Areop-Enap brushed against

  her, almost sending her face-first onto the muddy floor. If you had to make

  a choice, Old Spider, if you had to choose between returning the Elders to

  this world or leaving it in the hands of the humani, who would you choose?

  Sorceress, Areop-Enap said, mouth gaping to reveal its terrifying teeth in

  what might have been a smile, I was one of the Elders who voted that we

  should leave the earth to the ape-kin. I recognized that our time on this

  planet was over; and in our arrogance we had almost destroyed it. It was time

  to step back and leave it to the humani.

  So you would not be in favor of the return of the Elders?

  No.

  And if there was a fight, who would you stand with the Elders or the

  humani?

  Sorceress, Areop-Enap said very seriously, I ve stood with the humani

  before. Along with my kin, Hekate and the Witch of Endor, I helped bring

  civilization to this planet. Despite my appearance, my loyalties are with the

  humani.

  And that s why Dee had to capture you now. He couldn't afford to have

  someone as powerful as you fight alongside humankind.

  Then the confrontation must be very close indeed, Areop-Enap said. But

  there s nothing Dee and the Dark Elders can do until they secure the Book

  of Areop-Enap s voice trailed away. They ve got the Book?

  Most of it, Perenelle confirmed miserably. And you should know the rest of

  it. You are familiar with the prophecy of the twins?

  Of course. That old fool, Abraham, was always twittering on about the twins

  and scribbling down his indecipherable prophecies in the Codex. I never

  believed a word of them myself. And in all the years I knew him, he never got

  a single thing right.

  Nicholas found the twins.

  Ah. Areop-Enap was silent for a moment, then shrugged what shoulders it

  had, eyes blinking in unison. So Abraham was right about something; well,

  that s a first.

  While Perenelle slogged through ankle-deep mud, recounting what she had

  discovered in the cells above, she noticed that despite its enormous size,

  the spider Elder glided over the top of the muck. Behind them, the walls and

  ceilings pulsed with millions of spiders as they followed the Elder. I

  wonder why Dee didn't kill you.

  He couldn't, Areop-Enap said matter-of-factly. My death would send ripples

  through myriad Shadowrealms. Unlike Hekate, I have friends, and too many of

  them would come to investigate. Dee would not want that. Areop-Enap stopped

  when it came to the first of the spears Perenelle had pushed down. A huge leg

  turned it over, and the spider examined the faint traces of the hieroglyph

  painted on the spearhead. I m curious, it lisped. These Words of Power.

  They were ancient when the Elders ruled the earth. And I thought we had

  destroyed both them and all record of them. How did the English Magician

  rediscover them?

  I was wondering the same thing, Perenelle said. She turned the spear in her

  hand to look at the single square hieroglyph. Maybe he copied the spell from

  somewhere.

  No, Areop-Enap said. The individual words are powerful, it is true, but

  Dee set them up in the particular pattern that kept me trapped in the cell.

  Every time I tried to escape, it was as if I ran into a solid wall. I ve seen

  that pattern before, but it was in the days before the Fall of Danu Talis. In

  fact, now that I think of it, the last time I saw that pattern was before we

  had even created the island continent and dragged it up from the ocean floor.

  Someone instructed Dee; someone knew how to create these magical Wards,

  someone who d seen them.

  No one knows who Dee s Elder is, whom he serves, Perenelle said

  thoughtfully. Nicholas spent decades vainly trying to discover who,

  ultimately, controls the Magician.

  Someone old, Areop-Enap said. As old as me, or even older. One of the

  Great Elders, perhaps. All of the spider Elder s eyes blinked. But it

  cannot be; none of them survived the Fall of Danu Talis.

  You did.

  I m not one of the Great Elders, Areop-Enap said simply.

  They reached the end of the tunnel and de Ayala winked into existence

  directly before them. He had been a ghost for centuries and had seen wonders

  and monsters, but he had never seen anything like Areop-Enap, and the sight

  of the enormous creature shocked him speechless.

  Juan, Perenelle said gently. Talk to me.

  The Crow Goddess is here, he said finally. She is almost directly above

  us, perched on top of the water tower like a huge vulture. She s waiting for

  you to climb out. She had an argument with the sphinx, the ghost added. The

  sphinx said that the Elders had given you to her; the Morrigan claimed that

  Dee said you were hers.

  So nice t
o be in demand, Perenelle said, looking up the length of the shaft

  into the darkness. She glanced sidelong at Areop-Enap. I wonder if she knows

  you re here.

  Unlikely, Old Spider said. Dee would have no reason for telling her, and

  with so many magical and mythical creatures on the island, she ll not be able

  to pick out my aura.

  Perenelle s lips twisted in a quick smile that lit up her face. Shall we

  surprise her?

  CHAPTER FORTY-SIX

  J osh Newman stopped and swallowed hard. Any moment now, he was going to

  throw up. Although it was cool and damp underground, he was sweating, his

  hair plastered to his skull, his shirt lying icy and clinging along the

  length of his spine. He had gone beyond frightened, past terrified and

  straight to petrified.

  Descending into the sewers had been bad enough. Dee had wrenched the manhole

  cover out of the ground without any effort, and they d jerked back as a plume

  of filthy, foul-smelling gas vented into the street. When it had drifted

  away, Dee had slipped into the opening, followed a moment later by Josh and

  finally Machiavelli. They d climbed down a short metal ladder and ended up

  standing in a tunnel that was so narrow they had to march single file and so

  low that only Dee could walk upright. The tunnel dipped, and Josh gasped as

  ice-cold water suddenly flooded his sneakers. The smell was appalling, and he

  desperately tried not to think about what he might be wading through.

  The rotten-egg stink of sulfur briefly masked the smells in the sewer as Dee

  created a globe of cold blue-white light. It hovered and danced in the air

  about twelve inches in front of the Magician, painting the interior of the

  narrow arched tunnel in stark ashen light and deep impenetrable shadows. As

  they sloshed forward, Josh could hear things moving and glimpsed sparkling

  points of red light shifting in the blackness. He hoped they were only rats.

  I don't , Josh began, his voice echoing distortedly in the narrow tunnel.

  I really don't like small spaces.

  Neither do I, Machiavelli added tightly. I spent a little time in prison,

  a long time ago. I ve never forgotten it.

  Was it as bad as this? Josh asked shakily.

  Worse. Machiavelli was walking behind Josh and he leaned forward to add,

  Try and stay calm. This is just a maintenance tunnel; we ll get into the