Nicholas Flamel 2 - The Magician sotinf-2

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by Michael Scott


  wrong with their legs. Their thighs curved backward, and then the legs jutted

  forward at the knee and ended in goatlike hooves.

  They separated as they came around the slab, and Josh s instinct was to back

  away from them, but then he remembered Machiavelli s advice and stood his

  ground. Taking a deep breath, he looked closely at the nearer creature and

  discovered that it was not quite as terrifying as it looked at first: it was

  so small it appeared almost fragile. He thought he knew what they were; he d

  seen images of them on fragments of Greek and Roman pottery on the

  bookshelves in his mom s study. They were fauns, or maybe satyrs; he wasn't

  sure what the difference was.

  The creatures slowly circled Josh, reaching for him with icy long-fingered

  hands tipped with filthy black nails, stroking his torn T-shirt, pinching the

  fabric of his jeans. They spoke together, chattering in high-pitched, almost

  inaudible voices that set his teeth on edge. One bone-chilling finger touched

  the flesh of his stomach and his aura spat and crackled gold sparks. Hey!

  he shouted. The creatures jumped back, but that single touch had set Josh s

  heart racing. He was abruptly gripped by every nameless fear he d ever

  imagined, and all the nightmares that most terrified him flooded to the

  surface, leaving him gasping and shaking, bathed in a bitter icy sweat. The

  second faun darted forward and laid a cold hand on Josh s face. Suddenly, his

  heart was tripping madly, his stomach churning with mindless panic.

  The two creatures held each other and jumped up and down, shaking with what

  could only be laughter.

  Josh. Machiavelli s commanding voice broke through the boy s rising panic

  and silenced the creatures. Josh. Listen to me. Hear my voice, concentrate

  on it. The satyrs are simple creatures and feed off the most basic of human

  emotions: one gorges itself on fear, the other delights in panic. They are

  Phobos and Deimos.

  At the mention of their names, the two satyrs started back, fading into the

  shadows, until only their huge liquid eyes were visible, black and shining in

  the light of the hovering globe.

  They are the Guardians of the Sleeping God.

  And then, with a grinding of ancient stone, the statue sat up and swiveled

  its head to look at Josh. Within the helmet, two eyes blazed bloodred.

  CHAPTER FORTY-NINE

  I s this a Shadowrealm? Sophie asked in a horrified whisper, her breath

  catching in her throat.

  She was standing at the entrance to a long straight tunnel whose walls were

  decorated and lined with what looked like human bones. A single low-wattage

  bulb lit the space with a dull yellow light.

  Joan squeezed her arm and laughed gently. No. We re still in our world.

  Welcome to the Catacombs of Paris.

  Sophie s eyes flickered silver as the Witch s knowledge flowed through her.

  The Witch of Endor knew these catacombs well. Sophie rocked back on her heels

  as a sudden array of images engulfed her: men and women wearing little more

  than rags quarrying stone from huge pits in the ground, watched over by

  guards wearing the uniforms of Roman centurions. These were quarries, she

  whispered.

  A long time ago, Nicholas said. And now it is a tomb for millions of

  Parisians and one other .

  The Sleeping God, Sophie said, her voice cracking. This was an Elder the

  Witch both loathed and pitied.

  Saint-Germain and Joan were shocked by the girl s knowledge. Even Flamel

  looked startled.

  Sophie started shivering. She wrapped her arms around her body, trying to

  stand upright as dark thoughts crashed through her brain. The Sleeping God

  had once been an Elder .

  On a burning battlefield, she saw a lone warrior in metal and leather armor,

  wielding a sword almost as tall as he, fighting off creatures straight out of

  the Jurassic Age.

  At the gates of an ancient city, the warrior in metal and leather stood

  alone against a vast horde of apelike beast-men while a column of refugees

  escaped through another gate.

  On the steps of an impossibly high pyramid, the warrior defended a lone

  woman and child from creatures that were a cross between serpents and birds.

  Sophie

  She shivered, ice-cold now, teeth chattering. The images changed; the

  warrior s polished leather and metal armor had turned filthy, encrusted with

  mud, streaked and stained. The warrior, too, was changed.

  The warrior raced through a primitive ice-locked village, howling like a

  beast, while fur-wrapped humans fled from him or cowered in fear.

  The warrior rode at the head of a vast army that was a mongrel mix of beasts

  and men bearing down on a sparkling city in the heart of an empty desert.

  The warrior stood in the middle of an enormous library filled with charts,

  scrolls and books of metal, cloth and bark. The library was burning so

  intensely that the metal books flowed liquid. Slashing his sword through a

  series of shelves, he swept more books onto the flames.

  Sophie!

  The girl s aura flickered and crackled as the Alchemyst gripped her shoulders

  and squeezed hard.

  Sophie!

  Flamel s voice snapped her out of her trance. I saw I saw , she began

  hoarsely. Her throat felt raw, and she d bitten down so hard on the inside of

  her cheek that there was the disgusting metallic taste of blood in her mouth.

  I cannot even imagine what you saw, he said gently. But I think I know who

  you saw .

  Who was it? she panted, breathless now. Who was the warrior in the metal

  and leather armor? She knew if she thought hard about him, the Witch s

  memories would supply his name, but that would also draw her back into the

  warrior s violent world, and she didn't want that.

  The Elder, Mars Ultor.

  The God of War, Joan of Arc added bitterly.

  Without looking or turning her head, Sophie raised her left hand and pointed

  down a narrow corridor. He s down there, she said quietly.

  How do you know? Saint-Germain asked.

  I can feel him, the girl said with a shudder. She rubbed her arms

  furiously. It s like something cold and sticky is running down my skin. It s

  coming from there.

  This tunnel leads us into the secret heart of the catacombs, Saint-Germain

  said, into the lost Roman city of Lutetia. He brushed his hands briskly

  together, showering sparks onto the ground, and then set off down the tunnel,

  followed by Joan. Sophie was about to follow them when she stopped and looked

  at the Alchemyst. What happened to Mars? When I saw him first, I thought he

  was the defender of humanity. What changed him?

  Nicholas shook his head. No one knows. Perhaps the answer lies in the

  Witch s memories? he suggested. They must have known one another.

  Sophie started to shake her head. don't make me think about him , she

  began, but it was too late. Even as the Alchemyst was asking the question, a

  series of terrible images flashed through Sophie s mind. She saw a tall,

  handsome man standing alone on the top of a dizzyingly high stepped pyramid,

  arms raised to the heavens. Across his shoulders he wore a spectacular cloak

/>   of multicolored feathers. Spread out below the pyramid was a huge stone city,

  surrounded by a thick jungle. The city was celebrating, the broad streets

  thronged with people wearing brightly colored clothes, ornate jewelry and

  extravagant feathered cloaks and headdresses. The only absence of color was

  in the line of white-clad men and women stretching down the center of the

  wide main street. Looking more closely, she realized that they were chained

  together with ropes of leather and vine around their necks. Guards wielding

  whips and spears were driving them toward the pyramid.

  Sophie drew in a deep shuddering breath and blinked away the images. She

  knew him, she said coldly. She didn't tell the Alchemyst that the Witch of

  Endor had once loved Mars but that had been a long time ago, before he had

  changed, before he had become known as Mars Ultor. The Avenger.

  CHAPTER FIFTY

  H ail, Mars, the Lord of War, Dee said loudly.

  Completely numb with fright, Josh watched as the huge helmeted head slowly

  turned to look at Dee. The Magician s aura immediately snapped alight,

  sizzling yellow and vaporous around him. Within the god s helmet, red light

  glowed. The head turned again with the sound of grinding stone, and blazing

  crimson eyes looked at the boy. The two ghost-white satyrs, Phobos and

  Deimos, crept out of the shadows and crouched behind the stone pedestal,

  watching Josh intently. Even glancing at them sent waves of panic and fear

  coursing through his entire body, and he was sure he saw one of them lick

  thin lips with a tongue the color of an old bruise. Deliberately looking

  away, he concentrated on the ancient Elder.

  You must show no fear, Machiavelli had said, and do not panic. But that

  was easier said than done. Directly in front of him, close enough to touch,

  was the Elder the Romans had worshipped as the God of War. Josh had never

  heard of Hekate or the Witch of Endor, and because he knew nothing about

  them, they hadn't had the same effect on him. This Elder was different. Now

  he knew what Dee had meant when he said that this was the Elder remembered by

  humankind. This was Mars himself, the Elder with a month and a planet named

  after him.

  Josh tried to draw in a deep breath and settle his thumping heart, but he was

  shaking so hard he could barely breathe. His legs were like jelly, and he

  felt that at any moment, he could crumple to the ground. Squeezing his mouth

  shut, he forced himself to draw in air through his nose, trying to remember

  some of the breathing exercises he d learned in martial arts class. He closed

  his eyes tight and wrapped his arms around his body, hugging himself hard. He

  should be able to do this: he d seen Elders before; he d faced the undead and

  even fought a primeval monster. How hard could this be?

  Josh straightened, opened his eyes and looked at the statue of Mars except

  that it wasn't a statue. This was a living being. There was a thick hard gray

  crust over his skin and clothing. The only touch of color about the god was

  in his eyes, which glowed red behind a full-face visor that completely

  concealed his face.

  Great Mars, it is almost time, Dee said quickly, time for the Elders to

  return to the world of the humani. He took a breath and announced

  dramatically, We have the Codex.

  Josh felt the crackle of parchment under his T-shirt. What would happen to

  him if they knew he had the two missing pages? Would they still Awaken him?

  At the mention of the Codex, the Elder s head snapped toward Dee, eyes

  blazing, wisps of red smoke drifting from the slit in the helm.

  The prophecy is almost fulfilled, Dee continued quickly. Soon we will make

  the Final Summoning. Soon we will free the Lost Elders and return them to

  their rightful place as rulers of the world. Soon we will return the world to

  the paradise it once was.

  With the sound of grinding stone, Mars swung his legs off the plinth and

  turned so that he was sitting facing the boy. Josh noticed that every

  movement sent tiny flakes of what looked like stone skin onto the ground.

  Dee s voice rose almost to a shout. And the first prophecy of the Codex has

  come to pass. We have found the two that are one. We have found the twins of

  legend. He waved a hand toward Josh. This humani possesses an aura of pure

  gold; his twin sister s aura is unblemished silver.

  Mars tilted his head to look at Josh again and then stretched out a gloved

  hand. It was still a foot and a half away from the boy s shoulder when his

  aura bloomed silently around him, the bright glow lighting up the interior of

  the chamber, turning the polished bone walls golden, sending Phobos and

  Deimos scuttling for shelter in the deepest shadows behind the plinth. The

  dry air was suddenly rich with the scent of orange.

  Squinting against the glow given off by his own skin, feeling the hair on his

  head standing up, crackling with static, Josh watched in awe as the hardened

  crust began to fall away from Mars s fingertips to reveal deeply tanned,

  muscled flesh beneath. The god s own aura flared, outlining the statue in a

  thick purple-red mist and his healthy skin started to glow an angry red as

  tiny sparks curled off the aura and stuck to his flesh, quickly cooling and

  coating it in a gray-white stonelike scab. Josh frowned; it looked as if the

  god s aura was hardening into a thick shell around him, slowly turning him to

  stone again.

  The girl s powers have been Awakened, Dee continued, his voice echoing in

  the chamber. The boy s have not. If we are to succeed, if we are to bring

  back the Elders, this boy s powers must be Awakened. Mars Ultor, will you

  Awaken the boy?

  The god planted his tall broadsword on the ground, the point sinking easily

  into the bone floor, wrapped both hands around the hilt and leaned forward to

  look at Josh.

  Show no fear and don't panic. Josh straightened and stood tall, then stared

  directly into the narrow rectangular opening in the stone helm. For the space

  of a single heartbeat, he thought he caught a flash of brilliantly bright

  blue eyes in the shadows, before they turned red and glowing again. Josh s

  aura faded to a dull glow and the two satyrs immediately crept forward,

  climbing onto the plinth to peer around the god at the boy. The hunger in

  their eyes was unmistakable now.

  Twins.

  It took Josh a moment to realize that Mars had spoken. The god s voice was

  surprisingly soft and sounded incredibly weary. Twins? The question in his

  voice was unmistakable.

  Y-yes, Josh stammered. I have a twin sister, Sophie.

  I had twin boys once a long time ago, Mars said, his voice lost and

  distant. The red glow inside his helm faded and blue eyes blinked again.

  Good boys, fine boys, he added, and Josh was unsure whom he was speaking

  to. Who is the elder? he asked. You or your sister?

  Sophie, Josh said, lips curling in a sudden smile at the thought of his

  sister. But only by twenty-eight seconds.

  And do you love your sister? Mars asked.

  Taken by surprise, Josh said, Yes well, I mean, yes, of course I do. She s

  my twin.

  Ma
rs nodded. Romulus, my younger boy, said that too. He swore to me that he

  loved his brother, Remus. And then he killed him.

  The bone chamber fell deathly silent.

  Looking into the helmet, Josh saw Mars Ultor s eyes turn blue and wet, and he

  felt his own eyes fill with tears in sympathy. Then the god s tears hissed to

  steam as his eyes blazed red again. I had Awakened my sons auras, gave them

  access to powers and abilities beyond those of the humani. All their senses

  and emotions were heightened including the emotions of hate, fear and love.

  He paused, and then added, They had been close so close until I Awakened

  their senses. That destroyed them. There was another, longer pause. Perhaps

  it would be better if I did not Awaken you. For your own sake and the sake of

  your sister.

  Josh blinked in surprise and looked over his shoulder at Dee and Machiavelli.

  The Italian s face was impassive, but Dee looked as stunned as Josh felt. Was

  Mars refusing to Awaken him?

  Lord Mars, the Magician began, the boy must be Awakened .

  It will be his choice, Mars said mildly.

  I demand

  The glow within the god s helm turned incandescent. You demand!

  In my master s name, of course, Dee said quickly. My master demands

  Your master can make no demands of me, Magician, Mars whispered. And if

  you speak again, he added, I will loose my companions on you. Phobos and

  Deimos clambered over the god s shoulders to peer at Dee. They were both

  drooling. It is a terrible death. He looked back at Josh. This is your

  choice and yours alone. I can Awaken your powers. I can make you powerful.

  Dangerously powerful. Red eyes blazed brightly, the centers burning yellow

  hot. Is this what you want?

  Yes, Josh said without hesitation.

  There is a price, for everything has a price.

  I ll pay it, Josh said immediately, though he had no idea what that payment

  might be.

  Mars nodded his great head, stone cracking and grinding. A good response,

  the correct response. Asking me about the price would have been a mistake.

  Phobos and Deimos cackled in what Josh assumed was a laugh, and he

  immediately knew that others had paid the price for trying to negotiate with

  the Sleeping God.

  There will come a time when I will remind you that you are in debt to me.

 

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