nose and only a horizontal slash for a mouth. Like a tarantula, it had eight
tiny eyes set close to the top of the skull.
And one by one, the eyes slowly opened, each the color of an old bruise. They
fixed on the woman s face. Then the mouth widened, and two long spearlike
fangs appeared. Madame Perenelle. Sorceress, it lisped.
Areop-Enap, she said in wonder, acknowledging the ancient spider Elder. I
thought you were dead.
You mean you thought you d killed me!
The web twitched and suddenly the hideous creature launched itself at
Perenelle.
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
D r. John Dee leaned across the backseat of the police car. Turn here, he
said to Josh. He saw the expression on the young man s face and added,
Please.
Josh hit the brakes and the car slid and screeched, the front tire now
completely torn away and the wheel running on the metal rim, kicking up
sparks.
Now here. Dee pointed to a narrow alleyway lined on both sides with rows of
plastic trash cans. Watching him in the rearview mirror, Josh could see that
he kept twisting in the seat to look behind him.
Is she following? Machiavelli asked.
I can't see her, Dee said crisply, but I think we need to get off the
streets.
Josh struggled to control the car. We won't get much farther in this, he
began, and then hit the first trash can, which toppled into a second and then
a third, scattering rubbish across the alley. He turned the steering wheel
sharply to avoid running over one of the fallen bins and the engine began to
bang alarmingly. The car wobbled and then suddenly stopped, smoke billowing
from the hood. Out, Josh said quickly. I think we re on fire. He
scrambled out of the car, Machiavelli and Dee exiting on the other side. Then
they turned and ran down the alley, away from the car. They had taken perhaps
half a dozen steps when there was a dull thump and the car burst into flames.
Thick black smoke began spiraling upward into the sky.
Wonderful, Dee said bitterly. So now the Disir definitely knows where we
are. And she s not going to be happy.
Well, not with you, that s for sure, Machiavelli said with a wry smile.
Me? Dee looked surprised.
I m not the one who set fire to her, Machiavelli reminded him.
It was like listening to children. Enough, already! Josh rounded on the two
men. Who was that that woman?
That, Machiavelli said with a grim smile, was a Valkyrie.
A Valkyrie?
Sometimes called a Disir.
A Disir? Josh found that he wasn't even surprised by the response. He
didn't care what the woman was called; all he cared about was that she d
tried to slice him in two with a sword. Maybe this was a dream, he thought
suddenly, and everything that had happened from the moment Dee and the Golems
had stepped into the bookshop was nothing more than a nightmare. And then he
moved his right arm and his bruised shoulder protested. He winced in pain.
The skin on his burned face felt tight and stiff, and when he licked his dry,
cracked lips, he realized that this was no dream. He was wide awake this was
a living nightmare.
Josh stepped back from the two men. He looked up and down the narrow alley.
There were tall houses on one side, and what looked like a hotel was on the
other. The walls were daubed with layers of cursive and ornate graffiti, some
of which had even been sprayed onto the trash cans. Standing on his toes, he
tried to see the skyline, looking for the Eiffel Tower or Sacre -Coeur,
something to give him an idea where he was. I ve got to get back, he said,
edging farther from the two disheveled men. According to Flamel, they were
the enemy especially Dee. And yet Dee had just saved him from the Disir.
Dee turned to look at him, gray eyes twinkling kindly. Why, Josh, where are
you going?
Back to my sister.
And Flamel and Saint-Germain too? Tell me; what are they going to do for
you?
Josh took another step backward. He had seen Dee throw spears of fire on two
Magician could actually toss them. Not far, he figured. Another step or two
and he would turn and run down the alleyway. He could stop the first person
he met and ask directions to the Eiffel Tower. He thought the French for
where is? was o est? or maybe it was qui est? Or did that mean who
is? He shook his head slightly, regretting not having paid attention in
French class. don't try and stop me, he began, turning away.
What did it feel like? Dee asked suddenly.
Josh slowly turned to look at the Magician. He knew instantly what he was
talking about. He found that his fingers had automatically curled, as if he
were holding the hilt of a sword.
What was it like holding Clarent, feeling that raw power running through
you? What was it like knowing the thoughts and emotions of the creature you d
just stabbed? Dee reached under his tattered suit coat and pulled out
Clarent's twin: Excalibur. It is an awe-inspiring feeling, is it not? He
turned the blade in his hand, a blue-black trickle of energy shivering across
the stone sword. I know you must have experienced Nidhogg s
thoughts emotions memories?
Josh nodded. They were still fresh startlingly vivid in his head. The
thoughts, the sights, were so alien, so bizarre, that he knew he d never have
been able to imagine them himself.
For an instant you knew what it was to be godlike: to see worlds beyond
imagination, to experience alien emotions. You saw the past, the very distant
past you might even have seen Nidhogg s Shadowrealm.
Josh nodded slowly, wondering how Dee knew.
The Magician took a step closer to the boy. For an instant, Josh, the merest
instant, it was like being Awakened though nowhere near as intense, he added
quickly. And you do want to have your powers Awakened?
Josh nodded. He felt breathless, his heart hammering in his chest. Dee was
right; in those moments he d held Clarent, he d felt alive, truly alive. But
it can t be done, he said quickly.
Dee laughed. Oh yes, it can. It can be done here, today, he finished
triumphantly.
But Flamel said , Josh began, and then stopped, realizing what he d just
said. If he could be Awakened
Flamel says many things. I doubt even he knows what is the truth anymore.
Do you? Josh snapped.
Always. Dee jerked his thumb over his shoulder at Machiavelli. The Italian
is no friend of mine, he said quietly, staring directly into Josh s troubled
eyes. So ask him the question: ask him if your powers could be Awakened this
very morning.
Josh turned to regard Niccol Machiavelli. The tall white-haired man looked
vaguely troubled, but he nodded in agreement. The English Magician is
correct: your powers could be Awakened today. I imagine we could probably
find someone to do it within the hour.
Smiling triumphantly, Dee turned back to Josh. It s your choice. So, give me
your answer do you want to go back to Flamel and his vague promises, or do
you wa
nt to have your powers Awakened?
Even as he was turning to follow the black threads of dark energy that
drifted off Excalibur s stone blade, Josh knew the answer. He remembered the
feelings, the emotions, the power, that had coursed through his body when
he d held Clarent. And Dee had said those feelings were nowhere near as
intense as being Awakened.
I need an answer, Dee said.
Josh Newman took a deep breath. What do I have to do?
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
J oan swung the battered Citro n into the mouth of the alleyway and eased the
car to a halt, blocking the entrance. Leaning over the steering wheel, she
scoured the alley, looking for movement, wondering if this was a trap.
Following Josh had been remarkably easy; all she d had to do was to follow
the gouge cut into the street by the metal rim of his car s front wheel.
She d had a brief moment of panic when she d lost him in a maze of back
streets, but then a thick plume of black smoke rose over the rooftops and
she d followed that: it had led her to the alley and the burning police car.
Stay here, she commanded the exhausted Flamel and the ashen-faced Sophie as
she climbed out of the car. She carried her sword loosely in her right hand
as she walked down the alley, tapping the blade gently against the palm of
her left hand. She was fairly sure that they were too late and that Dee,
Machiavelli and Josh were gone, but she wasn't prepared to take any risks.
Padding silently down the center of the alley, wary of the piles of trash
cans that could be hiding an assailant, Joan realized she was still in a
state of shock following Scatty s disappearance. One moment Joan had been
standing in front of her old friend, and the next, the creature that was more
fish than man had reared up out of the water and dragged Scatty down with
him.
Joan blinked away tears. She had known Scathach for more than five hundred
years. In those early centuries they d been inseparable, adventuring together
across the world into countries yet to be explored by the West, encountering
tribes that still lived as their ancestors had thousands of years in the
past. They d discovered lost islands, hidden cities and forgotten countries,
and Scatty had even taken her into some of the Shadowrealms, where they had
fought creatures that had long been extinct on the earth. In the
Shadowrealms, Joan had seen her friend fight and defeat creatures that
existed only in the darkest human myths. Joan knew that nothing could stand
against the Shadow and yet Scatty herself had always said that she could be
defeated, that she was immortal but not invulnerable. Joan had always
imagined that when Scatty finally laid down her life it would be in one final
dramatic and extraordinary event not by being dragged into a dirty river by
an overgrown fish-man.
Joan grieved for her friend, and she would weep for her, but not now. Not
yet.
Joan of Arc had been a warrior from the time she was barely a teenager,
riding into battle at the head of a massive French army. She had seen too
many friends fall in battle and had learned that if she concentrated on their
deaths she would be incapable of fighting. Right now she knew she needed to
protect Nicholas and the girl. Later, there would be time to grieve for
Scathach the Shadow, and there would also be time to go in search of the
creature Flamel had called Dagon. Joan hefted the sword in her hand. She
would avenge her friend.
The petite Frenchwoman walked past the blazing remains of the police car and
crouched on the ground, expertly reading the traces and signs on the damp
stones. She heard Nicholas and Sophie climb out of the battered Citro n and
walk down the alley, stepping around puddles of oil and dirty water. Nicholas
was carrying Clarent. Joan distinctly heard it buzz as he approached the
burning car, and she wondered if it was still connected to the boy.
They ran from the car and stopped here, she said, without looking up, as
they stopped beside her. Dee and Machiavelli were facing Josh. He stood over
there. She pointed. They ran through the water back there; you can clearly
see the outlines of their shoes on the ground.
Sophie and Flamel leaned over and looked at the ground. They nodded, though
she knew they could see nothing.
Now, this is interesting, she continued. At one stage Josh s footsteps are
pointing down the alley, and he s on the balls of his feet, almost as if he
was thinking about running. But look here. She pointed to traces of heel
prints on the ground that only she could see. The three of them walked off
together, Dee and Josh first, Machiavelli following behind.
Can you track them? Flamel demanded.
Joan shrugged. To the end of the alley, maybe, but beyond that She
shrugged again and straightened up, dusting off her hands. Impossible; there
will be too many other prints.
What are we going to do? Nicholas whispered. How are we going to find the
boy?
Joan s eyes drifted from Flamel s face to Sophie. We can t but Sophie can.
How? he asked.
Joan moved her hand in a horizontal line in front of her. It left the
faintest tracery of light in the air, and the foul alley briefly smelled of
lavender. She s his twin: she ll be able to follow his aura.
Nicholas Flamel caught both of Sophie s shoulders, forcing the girl to look
into his eyes. Sophie! he snapped. Sophie, look at me.
Sophie raised red-rimmed eyes to look at the Alchemyst. She was completely
numb. Scatty was gone, and now Josh had vanished, kidnapped by Dee and
Machiavelli. Everything was falling apart.
Sophie, Nicholas said very quietly, his pale eyes catching and holding
hers. I need you to be strong now.
What s the point? she asked. They re gone.
They re not gone, he said confidently.
But Scatty The girl hiccupped.
is one of the most dangerous women in the world, he finished. She s
survived for over two thousand years and fought creatures infinitely more
dangerous than Dagon.
Sophie wasn't sure if he was trying to convince himself or her. I saw that
thing drag her into the river, and we waited for at least ten minutes. She
didn't come back up. She must have drowned. Her voice caught and she could
feel the tears pricking at the back of her eyes again. Her throat felt as if
it were on fire.
I ve seen her survive worse, much worse. Nicholas attempted a wan smile. I
think Dagon is in for a surprise! Scatty s like a cat: she hates getting wet.
The Seine runs very fast; they were probably swept downriver. She ll contact
us.
But how? She ll have no idea where we are. Sophie really hated the way
adults lied. They were just so transparent.
Sophie, Nicholas said seriously. If Scathach is alive, she will find us.
Trust me.
And in that moment, Sophie realized that she did not trust the Alchemyst.
Joan put her arm on Sophie s shoulder and squeezed gently. Nicholas is
right. Scatty is She smiled, and her entire face lit up. She is
extraordinary. Her aunt once abandoned her in one of the Underworld
Shadowrealms: it took her centuries to find her way out. But she did it.
Sophie nodded slowly. She knew that what they were saying was true the Witch
of Endor knew more about Scathach than either the Alchemyst or Joan but she
could also tell that they were very worried.
Now, Sophie, Nicholas resumed. I need you to find your brother.
How?
I m hearing sirens, Joan said urgently, looking back down the alley. Lots
of sirens.
Flamel ignored her. He stared deep into Sophie s bright blue eyes. You can
find him, he insisted. You are his twin; it is a connection that goes even
deeper than blood. you've always known when he was in trouble, haven t you?
Sophie nodded.
Nicholas , Joan prodded, we are running out of time.
you've always felt his pain, known when he was unhappy or upset?
Sophie nodded again.
You are connected to him, you can find him. The Alchemyst turned the girl
around so that she was facing down the alleyway. Josh was standing here, he
said, pointing. Dee and Machiavelli were standing about here.
Sophie was confused and getting irritated. But they re gone now. They took
him away.
I don't think they forced him to go anywhere, I think he went with them of
his own free will, Nicholas said very softly.
The words hit Sophie like a blow. Josh wouldn't leave her, would he? But
why?
Flamel shrugged slightly. Who knows? Dee has always been very persuasive,
and Machiavelli is a master manipulator. But we can find them, I m sure of
it. Your senses have been Awakened, Sophie. Look again; imagine Josh standing
in front of you, see him .
Sophie took a deep breath and closed her eyes, then opened them again. She
could see nothing out of the ordinary; she was standing in a dirty
trash-strewn alley, the walls covered with curling ornate graffiti, with the
smoke of the burning car whirling around her.
His aura is gold, Flamel continued. Dee s is yellow Machiavelli s gray or
dirty white .
Sophie started to shake her head. I can t see anything, she began.
Then let me help you. Nicholas put his hand on her shoulder and suddenly
the stink of the burning car was replaced with the fresh sharp smell of mint.
Instantly, her aura flared around her body, crackling and spitting like a
firework, the pure silver now tinged with the emerald green of Flamel s aura.