I will destroy you: not even your Elder master will be able to protect you
from my wrath.
don't you dare threaten me! Dee said, his voice an ugly snarl. And I don't
need my Elder to protect me.
Fear me, Magician, for you have made an enemy of me.
Do you know what I do to those who frighten me? Dee demanded, his accent
thickening. I destroy them! The room suddenly filled with the stench of
sulfur, and then the bone walls began to run and melt like soft ice cream.
Flamel is not the only alchemist who knows the secret of transmutation, he
said as the ceiling turned soft and liquid, long strands dripping down to the
floor, covering Mars in sticky fluid. Then it began to rain bone in huge
yellow drops.
Destroy him! Mars howled. Phobos and Deimos leapt from the plinth onto the
Elder s back, teeth and claws extended, huge eyes fixed on Dee.
The Magician spoke a single word of power and snapped his fingers: the liquid
bone instantly hardened.
Niccol Machiavelli appeared in the doorway. He folded his arms and looked
into the chamber. In the center of the room, caught as he tried to rise from
the floor, the two satyrs on his back, was Mars Ultor, frozen in bone.
So the catacombs of Paris have yet another mysterious bone statue, the
Italian said mildly. Dee turned away. First you kill Hekate and now Mars,
Machiavelli continued. And I thought you were supposed to be on our side.
You do realize, he called after Dee, that we are both dead men. We ve
failed to capture Flamel and the twins. Our masters will not forgive us.
We ve not failed yet, Dee called back. He was almost at the end of the
corridor. I know where this tunnel comes out. I know how we can capture
them. He stopped and looked back, and when he spoke, the words came slowly,
almost reluctantly. But Niccol we will need to work together. We will need
to combine our powers.
What do you intend to do? Machiavelli asked.
Together, we can loose the Guardians of the City.
CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE
T he Morrigan managed to struggle to her feet, but a spiderweb as thick as
her arm wrapped around her waist and twisted between her legs, entangling
them, and she fell. She started to slide over the side of the water tower
when a second and then a third web caught her, curling around her body,
wrapping it from neck to toes in a thick mummylike shell. Perenelle leapt off
Areop-Enap s back and crouched beside the Crow Goddess. The head of her spear
vibrated with energy, and red and white smoke coiled into the damp night air.
You probably feel like screaming right now, Perenelle said with a wry
smile. Go ahead.
The Morrigan obliged. Her jaws unhinged, black lips parted to reveal her
savage teeth and she howled.
The nerve-shattering cry echoed across the island. Every unbroken pane of
glass on Alcatraz shattered into powder, and the entire water tower swayed.
Across the bay, the city came awake as business, house and car alarms along
the waterfront burst into cacophonous life. Every dog within a hundred-mile
radius of the island started yowling piteously.
But the scream also brought the rest of the huge flock of gathered birds
surging into the night sky in a thunderous explosion of flapping wings and
raucous cries. Most were immediately entangled and brought down by a thick
cloud of spiderwebs hanging in the air between the desolate buildings, draped
across every open window, spun from pole to pole. The moment the ensnared
birds hit the ground, spiders of every shape and size swarmed over them,
cocooning them in thick silver webs. Within moments, the island fell silent
again.
A handful of Dire-Crows escaped. Six of the huge birds swooped low over the
island, avoiding the festoons and nets of sticky web. The birds curled out
over San Francisco Bay toward the bridge, soared high and then swung back to
attack. Now they were above the entangling spiderwebs. They circled over the
water tower. Twelve pitch-black eyes fixed on Perenelle, and razor beaks and
dagger-tipped claws opened as they dropped silently toward the woman.
Crouched over the Morrigan, Perenelle caught the flickering hint of movement
reflected in her adversary s black eyes. The Sorceress brought the spearhead
triangle burning in the foggy air. The savage birds flew through the red
fire and changed.
Six perfect eggs dropped out of the sky and were plucked out of midair by
strands of gossamer-thin spiderweb. Breakfast, Areop-Enap said delightedly,
clambering down the side of the tower.
Perenelle sat down beside the struggling Crow Goddess. Resting the spear on
her knees, she looked out across the bay in the direction of the city she
called home.
What will you do now, Sorceress? the Morrigan demanded.
I have no idea, Perenelle said truthfully. It seems Alcatraz is mine. She
sounded almost bemused by the idea. Well, mine and Areop-Enap s.
Unless you've managed to master the art of flight, you are trapped here,
the Morrigan snarled. This is Dee s property. No tourists come here now;
there are no sightseers, no fishing boats. You are still as much a prisoner
as when you were in your cell. And the sphinx patrols the corridors below.
She ll be coming for you.
The Sorceress smiled. She can try. She twirled the spear. It hummed in the
air. I wonder what this would turn her into: baby girl, lion cub or bird
egg.
You know that Dee will return and in force. He ll want his army of
monsters.
I ll be waiting for him, too, the Sorceress promised.
You cannot win, the Morrigan spat.
People have been telling Nicholas and me that for centuries. And yet, we re
still here.
What will you do with me? the Crow Goddess asked eventually. Unless you
kill me, you know I ll never rest until you are dead.
Perenelle smiled. She brought the spearhead close to her lips and blew gently
on it until it glowed white-hot. I wonder what this would turn you into?
she asked absently. Bird or egg?
I was born, not hatched, the Morrigan said simply. You cannot threaten me
with death. It holds no fear for me.
Perenelle got to her feet and planted the butt of the spear on the ground.
I m not going to kill you. I ve got a much more suitable punishment in store
for you. She looked toward the skies, and the wind took her long hair,
blowing it straight out behind her. I ve often wondered what it would be
like to be able to fly, to soar silently through the heavens.
There is no greater feeling, the Morrigan said honestly.
Perenelle s smile was icy. That s what I thought. So I m going to take away
that which you hold most precious: your freedom and your ability to fly. I
have the most wonderful cell just for you.
No prison can hold me, the Morrigan said contemptuously.
It was designed to hold Areop-Enap, Perenelle said. Deep underground, you
will never see the sunlight or fly in the air again.
The Morrigan howled again and thrashed from side to side. The water tower
shifted and trembled, but the Old Spider s web was unbreakable. Then the Crow
Goddess abruptly fell silent. The wind picked up, and fog swirled around the
two women. They could hear the clanging of distant alarms from San Francisco.
The Morrigan began to heave a series of hacking coughs, and it took Perenelle
a moment before she realized that the Crow Goddess was laughing. Although she
had an idea she was not going to like the answer, Perenelle asked, And do
you want to tell me what you find so amusing?
You may have defeated me, the Morrigan heaved, but you are already dying.
I can see the age on your face and hands.
Perenelle raised her hand to her face and moved the spearhead so that it shed
light on her flesh. She was shocked to discover a speckling of brown spots on
the back of her hand. She touched her face and neck, fingers tracing the
lines of new wrinkles.
How long before the alchemical formula wears off, Sorceress? How long before
you wither into shriveled old age? Is it measured in days or weeks?
A lot can happen in a few days.
Sorceress, listen to me now. Listen to the truth. The Magician is in Paris.
He has captured the boy and loosed Nidhogg on your husband and the others.
She coughed another laugh. I was sent here to kill you because you and your
husband are worthless. The twins are the key to the future.
Perenelle leaned close to the Morrigan. The spearhead shed a crimson glow
over both their faces, making them look like hideous masks. You re right.
The twins are the key to the future but whose: the Dark Elders or
humankind s?
CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR
N iccol Machiavelli took a tentative step forward and looked down over the
city of Paris. He was standing on the roof of the great Gothic cathedral of
Notre Dame; below was the river Seine and the Pont au Double, and directly
spread out before him was the broad parvis, the square. Holding tightly to
the ornate brickwork, he drew in a deep shuddering breath and willed his
thumping heart to slow. He had just climbed one thousand and one steps up out
of the catacombs onto the roof of the cathedral, following a secret route Dee
claimed he d used before. His legs were trembling with the effort and his
knees ached. Machiavelli liked to think that he kept himself in good
condition he was a strict vegetarian and exercised every day but the climb
had exhausted him. He was also vaguely irritated that the strenuous climb
hadn't affected Dee in the slightest. When did you say you were last up
here? he asked.
I didn't say, the Magician snapped. He was standing to Machiavelli s left,
in the shadow of the south tower. But if you must know, it was in 1575. He
pointed off to one side. I met the Morrigan right there. It was on this roof
that I first learned of the true nature of Nicholas Flamel and the existence
of the Book of Abraham. So perhaps it is fitting that it ends here too.
Machiavelli leaned out and looked down. He was standing almost directly above
the west rose window. The square below him should have been thronged with
tourists, but it was eerily deserted. And how do you know Flamel and the
others will come out here? he asked.
Dee s small teeth flashed in an ugly grin. We know the boy is
claustrophobic. His senses have just been Awakened. When he comes out of
whatever trance Mars left him in, he s going to be terrified, and his
heightened senses will only add to that terror. For the sake of his sanity,
Flamel will have to get him above ground as quickly as possible. I know that
there is a secret passage leading from the buried Roman city into the
cathedral. He suddenly pointed down as five figures stumbled out of the
central door directly below them. You see? he said triumphantly. I m never
wrong. He looked at Machiavelli. You know what we have to do?
The Italian nodded. I know.
You don't look too happy about it.
Defacing a beautiful building is a crime.
But killing people is not? Dee asked.
Well, people can always be replaced.
Let me just sit, Josh gasped. Without waiting for a response, he crumpled
out of his sister s and Saint-Germain s hands and sat down on a smooth
circular stone set into the cobbled square. Bringing his knees up to his
chest, he rested his chin on his kneecaps and wrapped his arms around his
shins. He was shaking so hard that his heels were tapping off the stone.
We really need to keep moving, Flamel said urgently, looking around.
Give us a minute, Sophie snapped. Kneeling beside her brother, she reached
out to touch him, but a spark cracked between her fingertips and his arm and
they both jumped. I know what you re feeling, she said gently. Everything
is so so bright, so loud, so sharp. Your clothes feel so heavy and rough
against your skin, your shoes are too tight. But you do get used to it. The
feelings do go away. He was undergoing what she d experienced only a couple
of days ago.
My head is throbbing, Josh mumbled. It feels like it s about to explode,
like it s crammed with too much information. I keep thinking these strange
thoughts .
The girl frowned. That didn't sound right. When she d been Awakened, her
senses had been overwhelmed, but it was only when the Witch of Endor had
poured knowledge into her that she d felt as if her brain were about to
burst. A sudden thought struck her, and she remembered that when she d raced
into the chamber, she d seen the Elder s huge hand pressing on her brother s
head. Josh, she said quietly. When Mars Awakened you, what did he say?
Her brother shook his head miserably. I don't know.
Think, she said sharply, and saw him wince at the sound of her voice.
Please, Josh, she said quietly. This is important.
You re not the boss of me, he muttered with a trace of a smile.
I know. She grinned. But I m still your big sister now tell me!
Josh frowned, but the effort hurt his forehead. He said he said that the
Awakening wasn't a gift, that it was something I would have to pay for
later.
What else?
He said he said that mine was one of the most powerful auras he d ever
encountered. Josh had been looking at the god as he d spoken the words,
seeing him for the first time with Awakened eyes, noticing the intricate
detail on his helm and the ornate design on his leather breastplate and
hearing clearly the pain in his voice. He said he was going to give me a
gift, something I might find useful in the days to come.
And?
I have no idea what that was. When he put his hand on my head, I felt as if
he was trying to push me through the floor. The pressure was incredible.
He s passed something to you, Sophie said, worried. Nicholas, she called.
But there was no response, and when she turned to look for the Alchemyst she
found him, Saint-Germain and Joan staring back at the great cathedral.
Sophie, Nicholas said calmly, without turning around, help your brother to
his feet. We need to get out of here right now. Before it s too late.
His calm, reasoned tone frightened her more than if he had shouted. Catching
her brother under both arm
s, ignoring the rattling snap of their auras, she
hauled him upright and turned around. Facing them were three squat mismatched
monsters.
I think it s already too late, she said.
Over the centuries, Dr. John Dee had learned how to animate Golems and had
also managed to create and control simulacra and homunculi. One of the
earliest skills Machiavelli had mastered was the ability to control a tulpa.
The process was surprisingly similar; all that really differed were the
materials.
They could both bring the inanimate to life.
Now the Magician and the Italian stood side by side on the roof of Notre Dame
and focused their wills.
And one by one, the gargoyles and grotesques of Notre Dame came to creaking
life.
The gargoyles the water spouts moved first.
Singly and in pairs, then in dozens and suddenly in hundreds, they broke free
of the cathedral walls. Crawling out from the hidden places the unseen eaves,
the forgotten gutters stone dragons and serpents, goats and monkeys, cats,
dogs and monsters slithered down the front of the building.
Then the grotesques the hideous carved statues came to lumbering life. Lions,
tigers, apes and bears tore themselves free from the medieval stonework and
clambered down the building.
This is really very, very bad, Saint-Germain muttered.
A crudely carved lion dropped to the ground directly in front of the
cathedral door and padded forward, stone claws clicking and sliding on the
smooth cobbles.
Saint-Germain threw out his hand and the lion was engulfed in a ball of
fire which had no effect on it, other than to burn off centuries of dirt and
bird droppings. The lion kept coming. Saint-Germain tried different types of
fire darts and sheets of flame, fire balls and whips but to no avail.
More and more of the gargoyles dropped to the ground. A few shattered on
impact, but most survived. They spread out, filling the square, and then they
started to close in, tightening the noose. Some of the creatures were
intricately and beautifully carved; others had been weathered to little more
than anonymous lumps. The bigger gargoyles lumbered slowly while the smaller
grotesques darted about. But they all moved in absolute silence, save for the
grinding scrape of stone on stone.