The Enchantress (The Secrets of the Immortal Nicholas Flamel #6) (41 page)

She shook her head. “I have no idea where they are or what has happened.”

“If you ever see them again, tell them … tell them what I did here today.”

“I will do that.”

“I want them to know that, at the end, I did the right thing. Maybe, just maybe, it will make up for some of the other things I’ve done.” He raised his hand and looked at it. His skin was starting to disintegrate into powder, blowing away in fine trails.

“You helped free a people and save a world,” Virginia said. “That counts.”

“Thank you.” Dee raised his head for a final time and looked at Aten. “Your world ends tonight.”

“Danu Talis ends…. The modern world begins.” Aten looked into the distance and they all followed his gaze to the Pyramid of the Sun. “Now it is up to the twins.”

“Josh will do the right thing,” John Dee said. “He has a good heart.”

And the remains of the Magician swirled away and scattered on the wind.

C
licking, scratching, scrabbling on the stones, the bright orange Karkinos approached.

The crab was huge.

“Oh man,” Billy whispered. “I am never having crab legs again. And you know I love crab legs with a little lemon and butter.”

“We are in so much trouble here,” Black Hawk said, “and all you can think of is your stomach.”

“Well, I’m hungry. And besides, we’re only in trouble if it catches us,” he added.

“We
are
hard to catch,” Black Hawk agreed.

The two American immortals stood in the open doorway of the Warden’s House and watched the huge crab draw nearer. “Is it ten feet tall?” Billy asked.

“More like twelve; maybe fifteen.”

“It’s not too steady on its legs,” Billy pointed out.

Black Hawk nodded. “I noticed that.”

The crab’s eight walking legs ended in sharp, armored points. They clattered and scraped along on the slick stone, seeking holes to dig into to gain purchase. Plate-sized gray eyes inset with a vertical black pupil fixed on the two figures ahead. The crab’s shell was knobbed and speckled with irregular spines.

“And how big do you reckon those claws are?” Billy wondered.

“I think the chelipeds look around twelve feet,” Black Hawk said.

“Chely-whats?”

“Chelipeds. The two front claws are called chelipeds.”

“You don’t say? Are you in training for a quiz show or something?”

“Everyone knows they’re called chelipeds,” Black Hawk said.

“I didn’t. When I go into the store I get a bucket of claws, not a pound of chelipeds.” He stopped and watched the huge crab tip-tapping its way closer, carefully placing each leg, balancing gingerly. “Reminds me of a newborn colt,” he said quietly, “trying to find its footing.”

“Once it gets to the flat section here, it’s going to be steady enough,” the big copper-skinned man said. “It’ll plant itself sure and solid and then chip away at the house with those huge claws. Who knows, might be able to reach right in and pluck us out.” He grinned. “All those crab claws you ate; just try not to end up being eaten by one in turn.”

“You don’t have to sound so cheerful about it.” Billy
looked at the approaching monster. “It seems to me that we should try to prevent it from getting to the flat section.” He looked at Black Hawk, who nodded almost imperceptibly. “Give me a minute,” Billy said. He crossed to Mars and spoke quietly to him, then went over to where the Flamels and Machiavelli were still pouring their auras into the massive ball of clay. The effort had aged all of them, Nicholas and Perenelle especially. The Sorceress’s hair had turned almost completely white, and the veins across the backs of her hands were prominent.

The three immortals standing around the sleeping Areop-Enap turned to look at Billy and he jerked his thumb toward the door. “The big crab is almost here. Black Hawk and I are going to step outside and see if we can delay it some. Give you folks more time to do what you have to do.” He lifted the two spearheads from his belt and placed them on top of the hardened mud. “I thought you might hold on to these for me just in case … well, just in case,” he finished.

“Don’t go, Billy,” Machiavelli said quietly.

The American shook his head. “We’ve got to. Black Hawk and I can stand in the door and wait for the monster to come right up and pluck us out, or we can go out and see if we can cause some mischief.”

“You have no idea what else is out there,” Perenelle warned.

“Not a lot is left, actually. Odin and Hel took care of most of the anpu, and the ugly unicorns they didn’t kill ran off into the night. Anything out there with an iota of sense is staying well away from us. Except for the big crab and Quetzalcoatl’s
skeleton brother. He seems pretty riled up.” He rapped the hardened mud with his knuckles. “How are you getting on with Old Spider?”

“We’re working on it,” Machiavelli said.

“People usually say that to me when nothing’s working,” Billy said.

Perenelle smiled. “Good luck, Billy.”

“Don’t do anything stupid,” Machiavelli advised.

Billy tossed them a quick salute and hurried back over to the door. “I’ve been thinking …,” he said to Black Hawk, “what we really need is some rope to make a lasso.”

Black Hawk held up his tomahawk. Its long shaft was wrapped in strips of sweat-stained leather. Half of the leather had been peeled off to expose the white wood beneath. “Start tying these together,” he said, unraveling what was left and handing Billy a dozen long strips of brown leather.

“You’re always prepared. You should have been a Boy Scout,” Billy muttered.

“I was a Scout Master for a while. Had one of the best troops in the West.”

“You never told me,” Billy said, quickly knotting the leather pieces together.

“You never asked.”

“I think I’d have made a great Boy Scout.”

“I think you would too.” Black Hawk peeled off the last leather strip and handed it to Billy. The outlaw added it to the end of the knotted leather rope, then expertly twisted the rope into a lasso.

“Just like old times.” Billy grinned.

“This is nothing like old times,” Black Hawk said. He spun the tomahawk in his hand. “When was the last time we went hunting crab?”

Perenelle, Nicholas and Machiavelli watched the two Americans slip out into the night. They all knew that the chances of seeing either of them alive again were slim. Perenelle turned back to the mud ball and went to lift the two spearheads Billy had left behind.

The leaf-shaped blades had sunk into the mud.

Perenelle picked one up and pressed a fingertip to the blade. She expected to find it sizzling hot, but it was cool to the touch. “Nicholas,” she breathed.

The Alchemyst snatched up the other spearhead and plunged it deep into the hardened mud. It penetrated easily. Then, gripping it in both hands, he dragged it up across and down again in a long rectangle. Perenelle dug her fingers into the edge of the hardened mud and pulled the giant piece out of the ball. It crashed to the floor and broke in half.

Machiavelli grabbed the second spearhead and began to cut another hole in the hardened mud. “Get Billy and Black Hawk back in here,” he called to Mars. “We need their spearheads.”

“Too late,” the big Elder said. “They’ve gone hunting the Karkinos.”

S
ophie and Josh scrambled after Tsagaglalal up the steps of the Pyramid of the Sun.

And the monsters raced after them.

The dog-footed anpu scampered easily up the side of the pyramid, but the bulls, bears and boars moved more slowly, finding it difficult to mount the high narrow steps—they were so steep it was almost like climbing a ladder. Hissing and spitting cat-headed hybrids scurried on all fours, bouncing from step to step. They would be the first to reach the twins.

Arrows started to fall on the stones, and a tonbogiri ball screamed off the step by Sophie’s hand, showering her in golden flecks that pinged off her armor.

“How many steps to the top?” Josh asked.

“A lot,” Tsagaglalal said grimly. “Too many. We’re never going to make it.”

“And why do we have to get to the top?” Sophie demanded. She risked a quick glance down and immediately wished she hadn’t. There were hundreds of creatures—maybe even a thousand—flowing up the stairs after them. She saw movement from the corner of her eye and guessed that there were more running up the other sides. The beasts would come at them from all directions and they would be overwhelmed.

“Power,” Tsagaglalal said simply. She waited for the twins to catch up. “This pyramid is more than just a building. Think of it as a huge battery. It was built using very special materials to very precise specifications and mathematical angles. At one time, a handful of Great Elders controlled the entire world from the top of this pyramid. They created the first Shadowrealms. When a rogue planet threatened to crash into this one, they used the power of this place to capture it and put it into orbit as the moon. But over time those skills have been forgotten, and the Great Elders are no more—dead, Changed or gone to Shadowrealms of their own creation. Yet the power remains: from the top of this pyramid you can control the entire world.”

“Slow down,” Josh gasped. He was breathing hard, and his heart was thumping solidly against his chest, hammering against the armor.

“Josh,” Sophie said. “We don’t have time. They’re close.”

“Keep going,” he panted. “I’ll hold them.” He lifted his hand and his aura started to rise in gold smoke.

“No!” Tsagaglalal cried. “You shouldn’t waste it. You will need every ounce of strength for … for later.”

“But if we don’t use our auras, we’re never going to get to later,” Josh said urgently.

The earth shook again, tremors rattling up through every step. Two of the huge bull creatures screamed and bellowed as they lost their footing and fell, tumbling down the steps, crashing into a dozen others and dragging them down with them.

“How about if only one of us uses their aura?” he asked.

Tsagaglalal watched the rapidly approaching anpu. There were thousands of the beasts now moving up the pyramid. “You, Josh. Only you. Sophie, you keep your strength.”

Sophie opened her mouth to protest, but Tsagaglalal shook her head and waved her index finger at her, and the girl broke out into a huge grin. “In ten thousand years you’ll still be shaking your finger like that.”

Josh turned and sat on the steps, placing his gloved hands on his kneecaps.

“Josh, I really don’t think this is the time—” Sophie began.

Josh whistled. Five notes ringing out pure and clear in the air. All the anpu pricked up their ears.

“Josh?” Sophie asked.

“You know your trigger tattoo?” he called back to her.

She nodded. A thick black band encircled her right wrist like a bracelet. On the underside was a perfect gold circle with a red dot in the center. Whenever she needed to call up the Magic of Fire, she simply pressed the dot.

“I’ve got a trigger whistle.” He whistled the five notes again.

“That’s the tune from …” It was so familiar, yet she struggled to remember the name of the movie.

“Close Encounters of the Third Kind,”
he said, whistling it again. “Virginia Dare taught me the Magic of Air when we were on Alcatraz.” He stopped and frowned. “Was that today—or was it yesterday?”

A snarling cat-headed creature launched itself up the last ten steps toward Josh. Tsagaglalal’s kopesh sliced through the air, close enough to cut off its whiskers. It tried to twist midleap but hit the steps and started to slide down.

“Josh, if you’re going to do something …,” Sophie urged.

“Sit beside me,” he said. “You too, Aunt Agnes … Tsagaglalal.”

“This is hardly the time for sitting,” Tsagaglalal protested.

“Trust me,” he said with a wicked grin.

Sophie sat on the step to Josh’s right, while Tsagaglalal settled nervously to his left. “Even the beasts look surprised,” Tsagaglalal muttered.

“Put your arms through mine and hang on.”

Josh whistled again.

Tsagaglalal grunted as the ground shifted again. The earthquakes were becoming more frequent. And then she realized that it wasn’t the stones beneath her than were shifting. She wasn’t even sitting on the stones anymore. She was rising slowly into the air.

Josh was grinning widely. “Isn’t this the coolest thing?” he asked. “Virginia showed me how to do it.” He straightened his legs and allowed them to dangle, and Sophie
followed him. “Sure beats walking.” The three were spinning slowly around one another as they rose skyward.

“I’m standing on air,” Sophie said, stamping her feet.

“Solidified air—it’s the same principle as a hovercraft.” He turned to Tsagaglalal. “What do you think?”

She smiled. “You should have seen the looks on the anpu’s faces.”

They rose faster and faster, the air streaming cold around them now, the steps blurring beneath them. The city grew small; the many battles diminished to dots of flame.

As they neared the top, Sophie looked down between her feet and watched a shadow flowing up the steps and realized it was the anpu and the other hybrids. “They’re still coming. There are thousands of them.”

“They will never stop until they are called off,” Tsagaglalal said. “And neither Bastet nor Anubis will do it. They need you dead.”

Sophie looked up. “How close are we … Oh, there’s someone on the steps above,” she said in alarm. “It looks like …” She stopped, suddenly speechless.

In burnished red armor, Prometheus sat on the steps close to the top of the pyramid, arms resting on his thighs, fingers clasped together. “Ah, there you are,” he said pleasantly. “We’ve been waiting for you.”

“We?” Josh asked weakly. He was beginning to tire out.

“Why don’t you take a spin around the pyramid,” Prometheus suggested lightly.

With a tremendous effort of will, Josh brought the cushion of air clockwise around the sides of pyramid, finding
Saint-Germain lying stretched out on a step, busy with his notebook. He waved up to them. “Wonderful evening, isn’t it?” he called. “Just look at that sunset—it’s positively musical.”