The Magician (The Secrets of the Immortal Nicholas Flamel #2) (32 page)

Dagon padded into the alleyway, scooped up the Disir’s fallen war hammer and raced after the boy.

Dagon had seen the flare of the boy’s aura and knew that it was indeed powerful, though whether the boy and girl were the twins of legend was a different matter. Obviously, the Alchemyst, and Dee, too, seemed convinced that they were. But Dagon knew that even Machiavelli one of the most brilliant humani he’d ever associated with was unsure, and the brief glimpse he’d caught of the boy’s aura wasn’t enough to convince him either way. Gold and silver auras were rare though not as rare as the black aura and Dagon had encountered at least four sets of twins down through the ages with the sun and moon auras, as well as dozens of individuals.

But what neither Dee nor Machiavelli knew was that Dagon had seen the original twins.

He’d been on Danu Talis at the very end, for the Final Battle. He’d worn his father’s armor on that auspicious day, when all knew that the fate of the island hung in the balance. Like everyone else, he’d cowered in terror as silver and gold lights blazed from the top of the Pyramid of the Sun in a display of primal power. The elemental magics had lain waste to the ancient landscape and sundered the island at the heart of the world.

Dagon rarely slept anymore; he didn’t even possess a bed. Like a shark, he could sleep and continue to move about. He rarely dreamed, but when he did, the dreams were always the same: a vivid nightmare of those times when the skies had burned with gold and silver lights and the world had ended.

He’d spent many years in Machiavelli’s service. He’d seen both wonders and terrors during those centuries, and together, they d been present for some of the most significant and interesting moments in the earth s recent history.

And Dagon was beginning to think that this night might be one of the most memorable.

“Now, that’s something you don’t see every day”, Dee muttered.

The Magician and Machiavelli watched Nidhogg burst through a building on the left side of the Champs-Elys es, trample the trees that lined the street and career across the road. It still held red-haired Scatty in its claws, and the Disir was clinging to its back. The two immortals watched the huge swinging tail turn a set of traffic lights into a mangled ruin as the creature darted down another street.

“It’s heading for the river”, Machiavelli said.

“But what happened to the boy, I wonder?” Dee mused aloud.

“Maybe he got lost”, Machiavelli began, “or was trampled by Nidhogg. Or maybe not”, he added as Josh Newman stepped through the uprooted trees and out into the broad road. He looked left and right, but there was no traffic, and he didn’t even glance at the police car badly parked against the curb. He darted across the wide avenue, the sword in his hand streaming smoky gold threads behind him.

“The boy’s a survivor”, Dee said admiringly. “Brave, too.”

Seconds later, Dagon burst out of the side street, following Josh. He was carrying a war hammer. Spotting Dee and Machiavelli in the car, he raised his other hand in what might have been a greeting, or a farewell.

“Now what?” Dee demanded.

Machiavelli turned the key in the ignition and wrenched the car into first gear. It jerked forward, bouncing a little; then the engine howled as he put his foot to the floor. “The Rue de Marignan comes out onto the Avenue Montaigne. I think I can get there before Nidhogg does.” He hit the sirens.

Dee nodded. “Perhaps you might think about changing gear.” His lips moved in a barely discernable smile. “You’ll find the car will go faster that way.”

“Y
our garage isn’t attached to your house?” Sophie asked, climbing into the back of a small red and black Citroen 2CV, taking up a position behind Nicholas, who was sitting up front with Joan.

“These are converted stables. In previous centuries, the stables were never too close to the house. I guess the rich didn’t like living with the smell of horse manure. It’s not so bad, though it can be a bit of an inconvenience on a rainy night, knowing you have to run three blocks home. If Francis and I go out for an evening, we usually take the Metro.”

Joan eased the car out of the garage and turned right, moving away from the damaged house, which was quickly being surrounded by fire trucks, ambulances, police cars and press. When they d left, Francis had been going upstairs to change; he reasoned that all the publicity would do wonders for the sale of his new album.

“We’ll cut across the Champs-Elys es and then head down toward the river”, Joan said, expertly maneuvering the Citroen through the narrow cobbled alleyway. “Are you sure that’s where Nidhogg will go?”

Nicholas Flamel sighed. “I’m only guessing”, he admitted. “I’ve never actually seen it I don’t know of anyone who has and lived but I’ve come across creatures like it in my travels, and they are all related to the marine lizards, like the mosasaur. It’s scared, maybe it’s hurt. It’ll head to the water, seeking cool, healing mud.”

Sophie leaned forward between the front seats. She deliberately focused on Nidhogg, desperately sorting through the Witch’s memories, looking for something that might help her. But even the Witch knew little about the primal creature except that it was locked in the roots of the World Tree, the tree that Dee had destroyed with…”

“Excalibur”, she whispered.

The Alchemyst swiveled in the seat to look at her. “What about it?”

Sophie frowned, trying to remember. “Josh told me earlier that Dee had destroyed Yggdrasill with Excalibur.”

Flamel nodded.

“And you told me that Clarent is Excalibur’s twin.”

“It is.”

“Does it share the same powers?” she asked.

Flamel’s cool gray eyes flashed. “And you’re wondering, if Excalibur could destroy something as ancient as the World Tree, could Clarent destroy Nidhogg?” He was nodding even as he was speaking. “The ancient weapons of power predate the Elders. No one has any idea where they came from, though we do know that the Elders used some of them. The fact that the weapons are still around today proves just how indestructible they are.” He nodded. “I’m sure Clarent could hurt and possibly even kill Nidhogg.”

“And you believe Nidhogg is hurt now?” Joan spotted an opening in the light early-morning traffic and slotted neatly into it. Car horns blared behind her.

“Something drove it from the house.

“Then you know what you’ve just confirmed?” she said.

Flamel nodded. “We know Scatty would never touch Clarent. Therefore, Josh wounded the creature enough to send it careering madly across Paris. And now he’s chasing it.”

“And Machiavelli and Dee?” Joan asked.

“Probably chasing him.”

Joan cut across two lanes of traffic and roared down the Champs-Elys es. “Let’s hope they don’t catch up with him.”

A sudden thought struck Sophie. “Dee met Josh…” She stopped, realizing what she’d just said.

“In Ojai. I know”, Flamel said, surprising her. “He told me.”

Sophie sat back, surprised that her twin had told the Alchemyst. Color touched her cheeks. “I think Dee made an impression on him.” She felt almost embarrassed saying this to the Alchemyst, as if she was betraying her brother, but she pressed on. This was no time for secrets. “Dee told him some things about you. I think I think Josh sort of believed him”, she finished in a rush.

“I know”, Flamel said softly. “The English Magician can be very persuasive.”

Joan slowed the car to a stop. “This isn’t good”, she muttered. “There should be virtually no one on the road at this hour.”

They had driven right into a huge traffic jam. It stretched down the Champs-Elys es directly ahead of them. For the second day in a row, traffic on Paris s main thoroughfare had come to a complete halt. People were standing beside their cars looking at the gaping hole in the side of the building across the street. Police had just arrived and were quickly trying to take control, urging traffic to move on and allow the emergency services to get through to the building.

Joan of Arc leaned across the steering wheel, cool gray eyes assessing the situation. “It crossed the street and went this way”, Joan said, signaling quickly and turning right, into the narrow Rue de Marignan, driving past a pair of mangled traffic lights. “I don’t see them.”

Nicholas rose in the seat, trying to see as far as possible down the long straight street. “Where does this come out?”

“On the Rue Francois, just before the Avenue Montaigne”, Joan answered. “I’ve walked, cycled and driven through these streets for decades. I know them like the back of my hand.” They drove past a dozen cars, each one bearing the marks of Nidhogg: metalwork crumpled like tinfoil, windows spider webbed and smashed. A ball of metal that had once been a bicycle was now pressed deeply into the pavement, still attached to a railing by a length of chain.

“Joan”, Nicholas said very softly, “I think you should hurry up”.

“I don’t like driving fast.” She glanced sidelong at the Alchemyst, and whatever expression she saw on his face made her push her foot to the floor. The small engine howled and the car lurched forward. “What is it?” she demanded.

Nicholas chewed his bottom lip. “I’ve just thought of a potential problem”, he admitted finally.

“What sort of problem?” Joan and Sophie asked simultaneously.

“A serious problem.”

“Bigger than Nidhogg?” Joan jerked the stick shift and slammed the car into top gear. Sophie couldn’t see that it made any difference; she still felt she could be walking faster. She pounded the back of the seat, frantic with worry. They needed to get to her brother.

“I gave Josh the two missing pages from the Codex”, Flamel said. He twisted around in the seat to look at Sophie. “Do you think your brother has them with him?”

“Probably”, she said immediately, and then nodded. “Yes, I’m sure he does. The last time we talked he was wearing the bag under his shirt.”

“So how did Josh end up guarding the pages of the Codex?” Joan asked. “I thought you never let the book out of your sight.”

“I gave them to him.”

“You gave them?” she asked, surprised. “Why?”

Nicholas turned away and looked out at the street, now littered with the evidence of Nidhogg’s passing. When he looked back at Joan, his face was set in a grim mask. “I figured that since he was the only person amongst us who was neither immortal, Elder nor Awakened, he would not be involved in any of the conflicts we’d face, nor would he be a target: he’s just a humani. I thought the pages would be safe with him.”

Something about the statement bothered Sophie, but she couldn’t put her finger on it. “Josh wouldn’t give the pages to Dee”, she announced confidently.

Nicholas twisted around to face the girl again, and the look in his pale eyes was terrifying. “Oh, believe me: Dee always gets what he wants”, he said bitterly, “and what he cannot have he destroys.”

M
achiavelli slid the car to a stop, half on, half off the curb. He pulled up the brake but left the car in gear, and it jerked forward and cut out. They were in a parking lot on the banks of the river Seine, close to where he’d anticipated Nidhogg would appear. For a moment, the only sound was the engine ticking softly, and then Dee let out his breath in a long sigh. “You are the worst driver I’ve ever come across.”

“I got us here, didn’t I? You do know that explaining all this is going to be very difficult”, Machiavelli added, moving off the subject of his terrible driving. He had mastered the most arcane and difficult arts, had manipulated society and politics for half a millennium, was fluent in a dozen languages, could program in five different computer languages and was one of the world’s experts on quantum physics. And he still couldn’t drive a car. It was embarrassing. Rolling down the driver’s window, he allowed cold air to wash into the vehicle. “I can impose a press blackout, of course, claiming it’s a national security issue, but this is getting too public and way too messy.” He sighed. “Video of Nidhogg is probably on the Internet right now.”

“People will dismiss it as a prank”, Dee said confidently. “I thought we were in trouble when Bigfoot was caught on camera. But that was quickly rejected as a hoax. If I’ve learned anything over the years, it is that the humani are masters at ignoring what is right in front of their noses. They’ve disregarded our existence for centuries, dismissing the Elders and their times as little more than myth and legend, despite all the evidence. Besides”, he added smugly, absently stroking his short beard, “everything is coming together. We have most of the book; once we get the two missing pages, we will bring back the Dark Elders and return this world to its proper state.” He waved a hand airily. “You’ll not have to worry about minor issues like the press.”

“You seem to be forgetting that we have some other problems, like the Alchemyst and Perenelle. They are not so minor.”

Dee pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and waved it in the air. “Oh, I’ve taken care of that. I made a call.”

Machiavelli glanced sidelong at the Magician but said nothing. In his experience, people often spoke merely to fill a silence in a conversation, and he knew that Dee was a man who liked to hear the sound of his own voice.