The Enchantress (The Secrets of the Immortal Nicholas Flamel #6) (38 page)

Beyond the two immortals, on the other side of the square, standing still and silent before the prison walls, was row upon row of anpu and Asterion warriors, all armored and heavily armed, as if they were going up against troops rather than unarmed humans. Scathach’s long teeth bared in a vampire smile. This would be a battle worth fighting.

Lights flared all along the top of the prison’s massive walls, illuminating the long lines of archers taking up position. She estimated a hundred, then two hundred. Scathach knew from experience that a good archer could fire up to fifteen arrows in a minute. The moment the first arrow left the bow, the next arrow would fly.

A sigh ran through the crowd. No one moved, but the chanting grew louder.

More lights flared and a figure appeared on the prison’s front wall. He was short and pale, with a slightly elongated face and a wisp of a long red mustache over his lips, dressed
in a black robe that shimmered with oily light. He raised two pale arms and waited until silence gradually fell over the massive crowd. Then his voice boomed.

“Humani of Danu Talis.”

A murmur ran though the crowd. No one liked the term
humani;
it was an insult.

“Humani of Danu Talis,” he repeated. “You know me. I am Ard-Greimne, and my word is law. You have placed yourselves in grave danger today. But there is still a chance to save yourselves. Go now, return to your homes, and you may live out the night. But if you stay here, your futures are not so certain. I do not have the power of foresight, but stand here before these walls and I can promise you pain and death. Is that what you want?”

Someone in the crowd shouted, but was quickly silenced by those around him.

“You may think you are many, but you are facing the finest warriors in the known world. Here are anpu and Asterion, here are berserkers and all the new hybrids who will one day replace you, doing those tasks you are incapable of doing.”

Ard-Greimne fell silent, waiting for the crowd to disperse.

“If you will not listen to me, perhaps you will listen to the one whose name you chant.”

Ard-Greimne stepped to the side and a tall thin figure in a scorched white robe appeared. Even from a distance, his features were distinctive.

The crowd howled his name. “Aten! Aten! Aten!” Their voices pulsed like a solid heartbeat, rolling on and on, showing no sign of stopping.

Dr. John Dee turned to look at the crowd and found himself gazing directly into Scathach the Shadow’s grass-green eyes. In a day filled with surprises, this was just another to add to the growing list.

She saw him notice her and stepped out of the crowd, tossing the hat aside, shrugging off the white robe, revealing her black shirt, black combat pants and steel-toed boots. She wore two short swords on her back, matching long knives slung low on her hips and a pair of nunchaku tucked into her belt.

The people around her saw the transformation and howled, and word of her appearance flowed through the throng.

“Have you come to kill me, Shadow?” Dee asked

“Another time, perhaps,” Scathach answered coolly.

The Magician extended a hand to Dare. “Virginia Dare, allow me to introduce to you the legendary Scathach the Shadow.”

The two women eyed at one another and nodded. Then Virginia smiled. “I was expecting someone taller.”

“I get that a lot.”

“Are you here to rescue Aten?” Dee asked.

Scathach shook her head. “I am here to see Ard-Greimne, the Elder.”

“Why?” Dee asked.

“I wanted to see for myself if he was as bad as people said he was.”

Virginia looked at Scathach and then squinted up at the
figure standing on the wall. “There is a resemblance in the cheekbones and chin,” she said. “He is related to you?”

Scathach nodded.

“Your brother?”

“He is my father,” she whispered.

And then the earthquake shook the entire island.

X
olotl’s backward-facing feet made walking difficult and often impossible. His bare bones scraped the stones as he hobbled toward the mixed auras of the gathered Elders and immortal humani.

He was looking forward to killing the Alchemyst. And even more exciting, Xolotl knew that if the Alchemyst was on Alcatraz, then his wife was around also. The Elder’s stomach rumbled at the thought. It would be a feast.

Xolotl breathed deeply again, mangy dog’s head turned to the skies, black nostrils opening and closing. He thought he could distinguish at least seven—or possibly eight—different auras in the air tonight. The meaty-smelling fog blanketed all other odors, so there might have been another up there, but it did not matter. He would kill them all, eat his fill and leave the rest to the monsters now trailing behind him.

And it didn’t really matter if Flamel had ten companions
or ten times ten; he could not escape what was now crawling, slithering and staggering toward him.

In the corner of the ruined Warden’s House was an enormous mudlike shell. Nicholas tapped on it. It was solid.

Niccolò Machiavelli folded his arms across his chest and looked at the Alchemyst. “I always knew we would meet again,” he said in French. “Though I never imagined it would be in these circumstances,” he added with a smile. “I was certain I’d get you in Paris last Saturday.” He bowed, an old-fashioned courtly gesture, as Perenelle joined her husband. “Mistress Perenelle, it seems we are forever destined to meet on islands.”

“The last time we met you had poisoned my husband and attempted to kill me,” Perenelle reminded him, speaking in Italian.

Over three hundred years previously, the Sorceress and the Italian had fought at the foot of Mount Etna in Sicily. Although Perenelle had defeated Machiavelli, the energies they unleashed caused the ancient volcano to erupt. Lava flowed for five weeks after the battle and destroyed ten villages.

“Forgive me; I was younger then, and foolish. And you emerged the victor of the encounter. I carry the scars to this day.”

“Let us try and not blow up this island,” she said with a smile. Then she stretched out her hand. “I saw you try to save me earlier. There is no longer any enmity between us.”

Machiavelli took her fingers in his and bent over them. “Thank you. That pleases me.”

Mars and Odin moved outside into positions guarding one of the paths to the house, while Billy and Black Hawk went to watch the other path. Hel leaned against the doorway of the Warden’s House, favoring her injured leg. She was the last line of defense.

Nicholas, Perenelle and Machiavelli stood around the hardened ball of mud. “You’re sure Areop-Enap is within?” the Italian asked, rapping his knuckles on it.

“I saw her climb in and wrap it around herself,” Perenelle said.

“How do we open it?” Machiavelli asked.

“I’m not sure we should even try,” Nicholas said. “It could be dangerous to Areop-Enap, and more likely dangerous to us. Areop-Enap is unpredictable.” He looked at his wife. “Do I need to remind you about the last time we met the Old Spider?”

Machiavelli grinned. “Let me guess—you fought.”

“We did,” Perenelle said. “And it was on an island, too: Pohnpei.”

“What is it with you people and islands?” the Italian asked. “Japan, Ireland, Pohnpei, the Aleutians. You leave chaos, death and destruction in your wake.”

“You’re well informed,” Perenelle said.

“It was—still is, I suppose—my job.”

“And usually it was your friend Dee who caused the chaos, death and destruction,” Perenelle added. “We were always running.”

“Dee is no friend of mine,” Machiavelli said shortly. He laid his palm on the mud ball and his dirty gray-white aura
flowed over the rough surface. It sizzled and bubbled, but the aura dribbled away to nothing, running off the clay like water. He bent his head, pressing his ear to the stone. “Silence,” he said finally.

The three immortals placed their hands on the ball and brought their auras to fizzling life. The smells of mint and serpent mingled on the foggy air, ice-white, green and dirty-white misty energies flowing over the hard shell.

Nicholas was the first to break away. He was gasping for breath and there were new wrinkles lining his forehead and the sides of his nose. “A moment, if you will. Let me recharge a little. What made you change your mind?” he asked, tilting his head to look at the Italian. “Why did you side with us?”

Machiavelli shrugged. He leaned against a stone wall and brushed at his ruined and filthy black suit. “I have been troubled by my association with the Dark Elders for a long time,” he said quietly. “But coming here and working with Billy and Black Hawk brought up a lot of old memories. I was reminded of something my dear wife, Marietta, once said. She accused me of being an uncaring monster. She told me that I would die lonely and alone because I did not care for anyone.” He smiled sadly. “I realized that she was probably right on both accounts. And then Black Hawk asked me a question. He wanted to know if I had ever done anything purely for the thrill of it. I told him I had not, not for a very long time, at least. And then he told me that he pitied me, and that I was wasting my immortality. He said I was not living, that I was just surviving. And you know something—he was right.”

“I sometimes think the immortal do not truly appreciate the wonderful gift of immortality,” Nicholas said.

“It is not always a gift,” Perenelle said very quietly.

“And then I fell in with Billy,” the Italian continued. “He is young, exuberant—irritating, yes, but he has a big heart. He reminded me what it is to be human. To enjoy life and living. And when it came right down to it, we decided—he and I—that we did not want monsters in the streets of San Francisco, we did not want the deaths of many thousands on our hands or consciences. Not when we could do something about it.” The immortal stopped suddenly. “Do you know: I believe that is the longest speech I’ve given in a century. Maybe two.”

There was a whistle followed by the scrape and clatter of approaching hooves on stone.

“Quetzalcoatl’s twin brother, Xolotl, controls the monsters on the island,” Nicholas quickly explained to Machiavelli. “He is a little upset because we sank a boat of his monsters. He swore revenge.”

“You mean there are more creatures?” the Italian asked, a note of despair in his voice.

“Many more,” Perenelle answered with a grim smile. “The cell blocks only housed the smaller monsters. The really big ones were kept in the Powerhouse and the Quartermaster Warehouse by the shore.”

“We’d best get this open, then,” the Italian said.

The three immortals turned back to the mud ball and placed their hands on its shell, pouring their energies into it.
The room came to life with their auras, green and white sparks hissing and snapping from every metal surface.

Nicholas slumped first, then Machiavelli. Both men collapsed with their backs to the ball. Perenelle looked down at them. “We will try one more time,” she said. “If we fail, then we’ll leave it: we cannot afford to expend any more energy.” She knelt beside Nicholas and traced the new lines on her husband’s face. “Already we are dangerously weakened.”

Black Hawk suddenly raced through the open door. “We have incoming,” he said breathlessly. “A hundred anpu and some real ugly unicorns are heading this way.”

“What color are their horns?” Perenelle asked quickly.

Black Hawk shook his head. “I didn’t hang around to find out.”

“Think! You saw them!”

“White … black … red at the tip,” he blurted.

“Monokerata. Their horns are poisonous, avoid them at all cost.”

Red-faced and panting, Billy the Kid ran into the room. The two spearheads in his hands were black with blood. “Forget the anpu and the unicorns,” he gasped. “We’ve got a bigger problem. There’s a giant crab out there.”

“How big?” Machiavelli asked.

“Real big!” Billy snapped. “Like as-big-as-a-house big. One of those bull-headed guys got in its way and it snapped him clean in half. Well, not quite so clean, actually.”

“Karkinos,” Flamel and Machiavelli said simultaneously.

“Does that mean a big crab?” Billy asked.

“No. It means a giant crab,” Machiavelli said.

“And …” Billy drew in a deep breath. “And they’re being led by a skeleton with a dog’s head,” he finished dramatically. “A real mangy, ugly-looking dog.”

“Oh, we’ve already met him.” Perenelle smiled. “We chatted earlier.”

“That is Quetzalcoatl’s twin brother,” Machiavelli said.

Billy blinked in surprise. “That old monster has a brother!” Then he grinned. “I’m guessing they’re not identical.”

“They were once,” Hel said, from her position by the doorway. “This is Xolotl. This is the evil twin.”

Mars and Odin hurried in through the empty doorway. “Decision time,” Mars announced. “We can either make our last stand here,” he said, looking around at the space, “or we can run, maybe try to find another place to hole up in.”

“We stay here,” Flamel said firmly. He tapped the mud ball. “You must keep them at bay while we try to awaken Areop-Enap. She is our only chance now.”