The Necromancer

by Michael Scott

  “First, I am going to summon Coatlicue from her prison and set her loose into the Shadowrealms,” he said, burnt fingers fumbling with the red silk.

  Dare watched him closely but made no attempt to help him.

  “The Elders will be forced to draw most of their forces on earth back into the Shadowrealms to battle the Mother of All the Gods. They will not care what happens here. In the meantime, Machiavelli should have released the monsters on Alcatraz into the city.”

  Dare blinked in surprise but knew better than to interrupt him now.

  The red silk fell away, revealing a simple stone sword. The hilt was unadorned and the gray blade polished so that it looked like metal. Dee looked over at Virginia, his eyes sparkling. “Do you recognize it?” he asked.

  “One of the swords of power,” she breathed. “Which one?”

  “Durendal,” he whispered.

  “The indestructible.” Dare stepped closer to look at the ancient weapon. “You’ve always been fascinated with these toys, haven’t you, Doctor?”

  “A one-handed man once read my fortune; he told me that my destiny lay entwined with the swords.”

  “I thought it would look more impressive,” Virginia said.

  The Magician pulled at the thick string knotted tightly around the green-leather-wrapped object. “San Francisco will quickly fall to the beasts,” he continued, ignoring her comment. “The humani armies will not be able to stand against the monsters. The fear factor alone gives us a tremendous advantage. And there are similar caches of creatures in all the major cities around the globe. The world will dissolve into chaos in a matter of days.”

  “And what about those Elders who refuse to leave the earth to fight Coatlicue in the Shadowrealms?” Virginia asked. “And the immortals who are not allied to the Dark Elders? They will fight the monsters.”

  “Oh, I’m counting on it,” Dee muttered. Two of the cords fell away from the object he was fumbling with, but he could not undo the third knot. He looked at the woman. “Would you …?”

  “I’m going nowhere near it,” Virginia said. She slipped a short flat-bladed knife from a hidden sheath in her sleeve and tossed it to the Magician. He deftly caught it and sliced open the last knot.

  “I know the locations of most of the Elders, Next Generation and immortals here on earth. Once they come out of hiding, I can pick them off one by one. When I’m finished, you and I will be the last two immortals on this planet. My Elder masters once promised me this planet: now I’m taking it on my terms.”

  “And sharing it with me,” Virginia reminded him.

  “And sharing it with you,” he agreed.

  “You still haven’t told me what you want me for,” Dare said.

  “Why, my dear, you are central to my plan.” He stopped and looked up, smiling slyly. “I always knew we would end up together.”

  “Did you, now?”

  “We are alike, you and I.”

  “I’m sure we are,” Virginia Dare muttered. She dipped her head and said nothing. Dee had known her for most of his life and still had no idea just what she was, or what she was capable of. He had grown up in the Elizabethan Age and his opinions of women had been shaped by that age. Dare was convinced it was one of the many reasons he—and Machiavelli, too—had consistently underestimated Perenelle Flamel.

  Dee carefully unfolded the green leather to reveal a twin of the first sword.

  “A twin blade,” Virginia Dare said, surprised. “It must be Joyeuse, Charlemagne’s sword.”

  “The first sword I ever owned,” the Magician said. “And now I have the complete set.” Dee laid Excalibur and Clarent alongside the first two swords.

  Now that the swords lay together on the glass-topped table, the similarities between them were obvious—they were all about twenty inches long and carved from a single piece of stone. Of the four swords, only Clarent was dull and ugly—the rest were polished to a high shine. Virginia noticed subtle differences in the patterns of their hilts, but had she not watched Dee lay them out, she doubted she would have been able to tell them apart—except for Clarent, of course.

  “Once I have located and killed any remaining Elders, Next Generation and immortals on this world, I am going to use the swords to destroy the entrances to the Shadowrealms here on earth. Then this will truly become our world.”

  “Very clever, I’m sure,” Dare said. “I have just one question.…”

  “Just one?”

  “Why me?”

  Dee looked at her blankly.

  “You have this so neatly planned out: what do you need me for?” The Magician opened his mouth, but Dare held up her hand to stop him. “And don’t even think about lying,” she whispered. “Not when there are four swords on the table in front of me.” Although the smile did not leave her lips, the threat was plain.

  The Englishman nodded. “I came to you because … well, I told you: you are central to my plan. I need your flute.”

  “My flute?” Virginia was completely taken aback.

  Dee looked vaguely embarrassed. “Well, yes. When the monsters have been released into the city, I should be able to control them for a few days. But once they’ve fed and become feral, I will lose control.…” His voice trailed off as he watched for Dare’s reaction.

  “And you believe my flute will be able to enchant and control them.”

  “I’m sure of it. Remember, I was with you when you stood on the banks of the Red River and turned back a herd of three thousand stampeding buffalo. I have some inkling of the flute’s powers.”

  “There is a difference between buffalo and whatever menagerie of nightmares you’ve collected.”

  Dee shook his head. “They are all beasts. And earlier, I watched you fell both cucubuths and humani. I have absolute confidence in you.”

  “Thank you,” Virginia said sarcastically. “So once I render the creatures unconscious what do you intend to do with them when they wake up?”

  Dee shrugged dismissively. “Kill them, or return them to Alcatraz and let them fend for themselves.” He reached for the rectangular wooden box on the table, opened the lid and lifted out a small copper-bound book.

  The air in the room immediately crackled with static electricity, green sparks running across all the metal surfaces.

  Virginia felt as if all the breath had been sucked from her body. “Is that what I think it is?”

  Dee placed the book on the table in the center of the swords. Bound in tarnished green copper, the book was about six inches across by nine inches long, the pages within thick and yellow with ragged edges.

  “The Codex—the Book of Abraham the Mage,” Dee said, almost reverentially. “I devoted my entire life to finding this book.…” Wrapping a corner of the red silk around his fingers, he carefully opened the cover. “And when I finally acquired it, the last two pages were ripped out.” He turned to the back of the book, where the torn edges of two thick leaves jutted from the binding. The Magician giggled, the sound high-pitched and unnerving. “And do you know something, Virginia: the last two pages contain the Final Summoning, the formula needed to bring the Elders from their Shadowrealms into this world. My masters were very upset that I’d lost it.” His giggling turned to laughter, which quickly grew louder and more hysterical, shaking his entire body. “But now it turns out that we don’t need the Final Summoning, because the Elders will not be coming back.”

  “Doctor!” Virginia snapped, suddenly growing frightened of Dee. She’d never seen him like this. “Control yourself.”

  John Dee drew in a deep shaky breath. “Of course. I apologize.” He closed the Codex and ran his silk-covered hand across the metal surface. “We will let the monsters ravage the earth for a week, we’ll allow the armies, navies and air forces to exhaust themselves battling the creatures, and then, just when all seems lost, you and I will announce ourselves as the saviors of mankind. We’ll draw away the creatures and take control of the planet. We will become the immortal rulers of the world. You
have no master, and mine will either be dead or trapped in a Shadowrealm with no access to this world, so I am safe. I can use this book to remake and reshape the earth in any way that we wish.” He smiled. “The only limits are our imaginations.”

  “I’ve got a very vivid imagination,” Virginia murmured. “However, haven’t you forgotten one tiny thing?” she added calmly.

  Dee looked at her in surprise. “What?”

  “All of this depends on Coatlicue’s doing your bidding.”

  “She will,” he said confidently. “The real moment of danger is when she first awakens: she will be ravenous. I just have to make sure to feed her.”

  “Coatlicue is not a vegetarian,” Virginia reminded him.

  The Magician’s smile turned feral. “Yes, I know. And I’ve got such a tasty feast lined up for her.”

  CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

  Josh leaned against the door of the study and peered inside. Two of the walls were lined with books, a third with DVDs, while an enormous projection TV took up the fourth wall.

  The red-haired Elder was stretched out in a lounger, idly flicking through cable channels at high speed. He hesitated when he came to CNN, watched it for a moment, then clicked to another channel.

  Josh rapped on the doorframe. “You wanted to see me,” he said quietly. He was surprised by how calm he felt. There were no nerves, but he wasn’t feeling much excitement, either.

  “Come in,” Prometheus said without turning around. He pointed to a matching lounger with the remote control. “Sit for a minute, let us talk.”

  Josh climbed onto the lounger and hit the button that brought the footstool up. “My dad has one just like this,” he explained. “He has the model with the massage and heat functions.”

  “I had that one, but every time I used the massage, I thought there was an earthquake, so I sent it back.”

  They sat in silence while Prometheus continued to surf the channels. The Elder only slowed at news and black-and-white movies. “Hundreds of channels and never anything worth watching,” he muttered.

  Josh took the opportunity to look at the Elder: the only light in the study came from the flickering TV, which made it seem as if his face was constantly in motion. Now that he was close, Josh could see that Prometheus’s cheeks and chin were crisscrossed with tiny scars that were partially hidden by his beard. There were more scars on his forehead.

  “They’re little keepsakes of my time in prison,” the Elder said, his deep rumbling voice making Josh jump.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to stare.” Josh had no idea how the Elder had known he was looking at him.

  Prometheus rubbed the back of his hand against his forehead. “I rarely think of them now. I could heal myself and make them disappear, but I like to keep them as reminders.”

  “Of what?” Josh wondered.

  “That some things are worth fighting for … and that everything has a cost.”

  “Why were you in prison?” Josh asked. “If you don’t mind me asking,” he added quickly.

  The huge man waved his hand dismissively. “An old, old story, too long and too complicated to tell you now.” He paused and added, “You should ask your sister about it sometime. She will know.”

  “Because the Witch knew?”

  “How long has she known my sister?” the Elder asked. He turned his huge green eyes on the boy.

  “Would you believe, we met her once, very briefly, last Friday.…” Josh’s voice trailed away. It was hard to even try to think back to earlier that week, when all of this had begun. It seemed like a lifetime ago. “She taught Sophie the Magic of Air, and passed on all her knowledge at the same time. I don’t know how. I wasn’t in the room when it happened.”

  “And you’ve no idea why my sister did that?”

  “None. You’d have to ask Sophie,” he said, “though I doubt she knows.”

  “You don’t look much like any of the other Golds I’ve seen,” the Elder said finally, breaking the long silence that followed Josh’s statement.

  “Have you seen many other Golds?”

  “Too many.”

  “And what does a Gold look like?” Josh asked.

  “Frightened.”

  “Oh, I’m not frightened anymore,” Josh said simply. “I’ve gone beyond frightened, past terrified. Now I’m into petrified.”

  Prometheus stared intently at Josh. “What frightens you?”

  Josh picked up the remote control and started flipping through the channels. “Everything. This place. You. The Flamels. Dee. Machiavelli. The Shadowrealms, the leygates. The magic.” His voice rose with each sentence. “The thought that everything we were taught—every single thing we’ve ever learned, at home and in school, from books, from TV—is wrong. And Sophie,” he finished in a hoarse whisper, finally admitting his deepest fear. “I don’t think I know her anymore. And it’s all your sister’s fault.” He glared at the Elder, his anger making him reckless. “She changed her when she gave her those memories.”

  Surprisingly, Prometheus nodded in agreement. “Sisters are a trial,” he said. “And it doesn’t matter if they’re Elder or humani. Sometimes I think they exist solely to upset and annoy their brothers. I was once as close to mine as you are to yours.” He paused and added, “I’ve not spoken to her in millennia.”

  “What happened?”

  Prometheus shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “I thought I knew. Now I am beginning to think that I might have been wrong. For ages I thought she had betrayed me to Chronos. Now … now I am not so sure. I made the mistake of not speaking directly to her.” His green eyes glowed in the dark. “Whatever happens between you and your sister, make sure you talk to her before making any decisions. Don’t allow anyone to tell you what she said, or what she did—make sure she tells you herself.”

  “Is that, like, a warning?”

  Prometheus grunted a laugh. “No, I just don’t want you making the same mistake I did.”

  They sat in silence while Josh continued to flip through the channels. “You get a lot of foreign stations,” he said, eventually stopping at a soccer game. The commentary was in a language he couldn’t identify, Korean maybe. They watched that together until one team scored a goal and then Josh said casually, “You’ve trained some of the other Golds in the Magic of Fire.”

  “Some,” Prometheus admitted.

  Still concentrating fiercely on the television, Josh continued, “And do you know what happened to them? Where they are now?”

  “I believe most are dead, Josh,” Prometheus said very softly.

  “Most of them?”

  “All the ones I trained. I cannot speak for the others.”

  Stopping at the Weather Channel, Josh swiveled in the chair to face the Elder. “That doesn’t sound like good news for me, then, does it?”

  “Probably not,” Prometheus agreed.

  “I know the process is dangerous.…”

  Prometheus shook his big head. “No, the Awakening is the most dangerous process of all.” Tilting his head back, he breathed deeply. “And I can tell by the stink that clings to you that you were Awakened by Mars Ultor himself.”

  Josh nodded, surprised by the vehemence in the Elder’s voice. “In the Catacombs of Paris.”

  “Ah, so that’s where she hid him,” Prometheus said enigmatically. “When all this is over I must go and pay my respects.”

  “You don’t like him?” Josh asked, curious.

  “He was my friend, my closest friend, closer than a brother. He married my sister and I was thrilled.…” The Elder’s voice faded away.

  “Something happened?”

  “The swords happened. Mars found Excalibur in an abandoned temple on a deserted island. And it led him to Clarent. Zephaniah claimed it was the swords that corrupted him, but I was never sure about that. All I know is that he betrayed the people he had sworn to protect. I hunted him across the world and through the Shadowrealms, and just when I was closing in on him, he disappeared. Later, centur
ies later, I discovered that my sister had secreted him away to keep him safe from my vengeance, but I never knew where.” He bared his teeth in a grimace that might have passed for a smile. “Until now. Thank you.”

  “Leave him alone,” Josh said fiercely. “He’s in terrible pain, trapped in a shell of molten lava. He’s been that way for thousands of years.”

  “Good,” Prometheus said cruelly. “It is a small price to pay for what he did to my people.”

  “Your people?”

  “My people. The humani. I created them, Josh. It was my aura that brought them to life. Every humani on this planet—including you—has a spark of my aura within them. Do you know why Mars Ultor enslaved the humans and sacrificed them on the ancient pyramids?”

  Josh shook his head, but he suddenly remembered the flickering images he’d caught while he’d been carrying Clarent. They started to make sense now.

  “For that spark of life. Mars Ultor was harvesting my aura.”

  “Why?”

  Prometheus shook his head. “That is also another tale for another day. You are here to learn the Magic of Fire,” he said suddenly, changing the subject.

  “Yes. If you will teach me.”

  “I will. But I want you to know that I am doing this against my better judgment,” Prometheus continued. “I am doing this because my sister said I should, and as you know, saying no to your older sister is practically impossible. And also because I don’t think she has ever been wrong.”

  Josh sighed. “That sounds just like Sophie.”

  Prometheus flicked his thumb and a flat gray disc spun in the air.

  Startled, Josh caught it in his right hand and leaned forward so that he could examine it in the light from the TV. It was a small stone circle about the size of his palm. The stone was polished smooth, and there were traces of gold and bronze paint on the surface. In the center was a round-eyed open-mouthed face with a series of rings around it. Etched and carved into each ring were countless blocky symbols. Josh frowned. He’d seen something like this before. “It’s an Aztec calendar,” he said finally. “My mom has one just like it in her study.”