Page 25 of The Enchantress


  Nicholas looked around desperately. “If I had more time I could alter the structure of the metal and turn it porous, or magnetize the hull and pull every piece of metal toward it.”

  “We don’t have time for something so complex,” Perenelle said.

  The Crow Goddess gathered her cloak about her as she turned to look toward the shore. “As a last resort, we could drop onto the boat and kill a few of the guards, maybe the captain or the wheelman.”

  “You wouldn’t stand a chance,” Perenelle said. Despite her ferocious appearance, the Crow Goddess had a bird’s brittle bones; she might get one or two anpu before she was overwhelmed. The Sorceress looked back at her husband. “Could we try freezing the sea again?”

  “I doubt I have the strength for it, and besides, you saw how quickly it melted earlier.”

  “We could toss a few fireballs onto the boat. That would cause some chaos, maybe panic the creatures aboard. If they stampeded it might tilt the boat—upend it.”

  “Let’s keep that as a last resort,” Nicholas said. And then his eyes lit up and he smiled. “Simple. You’re right—sometimes simple is best.” Nicholas crouched down and scooped up a handful of pebbles. He rubbed them between his hands, grinding them to dust; then he brought his palms to his lips and tasted the powder with the tip of his tongue.

  “Ugh. That’s disgusting,” the Crow Goddess said.

  “Not enough cement,” he observed. “The buildings here are old. Eaten with salt, ravaged by the weather.” He bent to lift a piece of a brick off the ground and held it at arm’s length in the palm of his hand. “The structure of the bricks is already falling apart. The molecular bonds holding them together are parting. A long time ago, whenever Perenelle and I needed some money, we would take a lump of coal and transform it into a piece of gold.”

  “You’re going to turn the ship into gold?” the Crow Goddess asked in astonishment. “That would be spectacular!” She frowned. “It would sink, wouldn’t it?”

  The Alchemyst shook his head. “No, I’m not going to turn the ship into gold. I doubt that even at the height of my power I could have done that. Besides, I have always preferred to work small….”

  The Alchemyst’s words trailed off and the air was touched with the scent of mint. Slowly the edges of the brick in the palm of his hand started to crumble, dissolving into gritty powder.

  “Put your hand on my right shoulder, Perenelle; lend me some strength. You too, Crow Goddess,” he instructed. “Come stand behind me.”

  “I really prefer not to touch humankind …,” the goddess grumbled, but took a step closer.

  “And I prefer not to be touched by something older than humanity, but these are strange and unusual times,” Nicholas answered.

  The Crow Goddess and Perenelle positioned themselves behind the Alchemyst and allowed a little of their auras to flow into him. The smell of mint intensified, but it was slightly sour and bitter.

  “Hurry, Nicholas,” Perenelle urged. “Someone—or something—is sure to notice.”

  “First, one has to focus….” The Alchemyst gazed intently at the powdered brick in his hand. Slowly the dust began to dribble off his hand, flowing like water. “Once the desired result is achieved, then one must simply project the creative or destructive energy. Observation, then application.”

  Somewhere in the night, something cracked, the sound like a gunshot.

  Stones ground together, grating and squealing.

  “Is it another earthquake?” Perenelle asked.

  The ground vibrated as a new series of popping crunches echoed through the night. Onboard the heavily laden ship and within the Powerhouse and the nearby Quartermaster Warehouse, beasts roared and screamed.

  The fog cleared momentarily to reveal the tall smokestack jutting up behind the Powerhouse. The hulking chimney shuddered and swayed as all around the base of the tower, bricks exploded, spraying grit in all directions.

  Nicholas brought his hand to his face and blew gently, scattering the rest of the dust on his palm into the night air.

  The trio watched as the tower folded in two and, almost slowly, trailing fog like smoke, crashed down onto the back of the docked boat, driving it deep below the water and sending the bow shooting up into the air. Metal screeched and the boat snapped in two. A cascade of water washed over the docks and walkways, sweeping a handful of anpu onto the rocks and out to sea. The front end of the broken boat crashed back into the water, sending another wave washing over the docks. The two halves of the shattered craft immediately listed to one side, and the air was filled with the sound of metal grating against the island’s stones as the pieces sank.

  Nicholas brushed off his hands. “And all I had to do was crush half a dozen bricks. The weight of the chimney did the rest.”

  Perenelle leaned in and kissed her husband’s cheek. “Magnifique,” she whispered.

  “A triumph,” the Crow Goddess agreed. “You’ll pardon us if we do not kiss you.”

  “And you will pardon me if I tell you that I’d prefer you did not.”

  “We are about to have some very irritated company,” Perenelle said.

  A blaze of light cut into the fog as the doors to the Quartermaster Warehouse were flung open. Anpu poured out into the night and took up positions around the door, snouts raised to the air, sniffing. The figure that then stepped into the opening bore only the vaguest resemblance to anything human. A multicolored hooded and feathered cloak was wrapped around a skeleton. A gust of wind blew back the robe to reveal polished white bones encasing the vital organs of a man. Unlike the rest of the body, the head was covered in flesh and fur and was that of a long-snouted pointy-eared dog. Its skin was speckled with mange, and one of its ears looked torn. The creature moved awkwardly, and as it approached it became clear that its feet were reversed, heels to the front, long black-nailed toes facing away.

  Throwing its head back, the creature sniffed the air like the anpu. Its jaws worked, and when it spoke, its speech was a liquid gargle. “What is this I smell?” it growled. “Ah, mint, the stench of the infamous Alchemyst. My brother told me he would ensure that you never made it to the island. But I told him you would be here. I am Xolotl, brother of Quetzalcoatl, son of Coatlicue, and I have come to claim this city for the Elders.”

  When there was no reply, he shuffled closer, one skeletal hand clutching the cloak around his neck, his other hand held high, each bony finger tipped with a dancing yellow flame like a candle. When he peered out into the gloom, his eyes burned red and round, reflecting the flames. He barked like a dog, then reverted to English. “Where are you, Nicholas Flamel? Let me see you before you die.”

  The Alchemyst stepped forward and allowed his green aura to illuminate him. “What will you do, monster, with no boat to bring your beasts ashore? It seems you are trapped on the island with me.”

  Xolotl waved his burning hand vaguely toward the city of San Francisco, scattering flame. “There are more boats, Alchemyst. Dee purchased a small fleet of the tourist boats for this eventuality. Even as we speak, they are making their way toward us, or they will when the fog clears.” He shook his head. “I did tell my brother that the fog was a mistake. But until the boats arrive, how shall we amuse ourselves?” The dog’s jaw gaped in a grin. “Why, by hunting you down.” He pointed toward the Alchemyst with his burning hand and a dozen silent anpu raced to his side. “Bring them to me. Alive! I will have the pleasure of killing you myself, Alchemyst,” Xolotl promised.

  Nicholas clapped his hands together and a wall of green flame sprang up on the hard earth directly in front of him. The intense heat drove the jackal-headed warriors back, their fur singed and smoking.

  “This is an island, Alchemyst, there is no place to hide,” Xolotl howled.

  “I am not hiding,” Nicholas said, stepping away from the flame. “I am coming for you, monster.”

  “You will die on this island!”

  “And you will die with me.”

  Nicholas turned b
ack to Perenelle and the Crow Goddess. “We need to awaken Areop-Enap now. She is our only hope.”

  “And what if we cannot?” the Crow Goddess asked.

  Perenelle and Nicholas looked at her, saying nothing. Finally Perenelle spoke. “We will awaken her,” she said shortly. “Or we will die trying.”

  “And probably be eaten,” Nicholas added with a smile.

  “Is it always this exciting around you two?” the Crow Goddess asked.

  “Even for us, this last week has been … exceptional,” Nicholas said.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE

  “Stay here. Do not leave the room,” Isis ordered.

  “Touch nothing,” Osiris added. “The age of most of the artifacts here can be measured in tens of millennia.”

  “Do not leave the room,” Isis repeated. “When we leave, lock the door behind us. Do not open it for anyone.”

  “What about you?” Josh asked.

  Isis frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “You said not to open it for anyone—does that include you?”

  She sighed. “Josh, you’re being deliberately stupid now. Of course you’ll open it for us. We’ll be back in less than an hour to take you up to be presented to the council.”

  Osiris rubbed his hands together eagerly, and in that moment resembled the man the twins had called Dad. “We were able to speak to some Elders already, so everyone knows you’re here. There will be huge excitement when you arrive.”

  “Yes. Everyone is talking about you,” Isis added. “Now, remember …”

  “Lock the door,” Josh finished.

  “Don’t leave the room,” Sophie added.

  Isis nodded, but there was no smile on her face. She clearly didn’t find the twins’ attitude funny. She pulled the heavy door behind her as she left and it closed with an echoing boom. Josh struggled to turn the massive circular key the Elders had left in the lock. It finally clicked into place, leaving the twins alone in one of the largest rooms they had ever seen.

  “It’s enormous,” Josh breathed. “You could fit a football field in here.”

  Sophie walked toward the center of the floor. “More than one,” she said, looking left, then right. The twins stood in a windowless room so big that they couldn’t see the walls to their left or their right through the gloomy shadows. The wall directly in front of them slanted inward at an angle.

  Sophie pointed toward it. “That must be the outer wall of the pyramid.”

  “It looks like this room runs the entire length of the building,” Josh said.

  “That would make it about a mile and a half long.”

  “Now, that’s a big room,” he said. “I’m surprised it’s not divided up into smaller rooms. It would make more sense.”

  “Josh, these people make worlds, they create entire Shadowrealms. They are never going to divide up a room just to be practical.” She paused for a moment, then said, “I wonder what it’s used for, though. It sort of looks like a gallery.” She pointed to a wall where faded rectangles were visible against the stones. “See? Something used to hang there.” She turned in a complete circle. “No windows, only one door …”

  “So where’s the light coming from?” Josh asked. He couldn’t find any source.

  “I think it’s coming from the walls themselves,” Sophie said in wonder.

  Josh walked over to the wall and placed his hand flat against the gold stones, but they were cool to the touch.

  “There’s something here.” Sophie pointed to the floor, where the remains of an ancient pattern were barely visible. Josh came back from the wall, dropped to the ground and blew hard. Dust swirled away to reveal a series of perfect circles, one within the other, made from thousands of tiny gold and silver tiles. The inner circle was filled with yellow and gold squares, and silver tiles had been used to create a long C shape, like a moon.

  Sophie traced the outline of the silver crescent with the toe of her boot. Then she tapped the innermost circle. “Sun and moon.” She stepped back and looked closely at the design. “It looks like this section of the floor is older than the rest. See? The stones are completely different.” She knelt and ran her hand across it, tracing the outline of the moon with her finger. The merest wisp of her silver aura dribbled from her fingertip and seeped through the glove of her armor to puddle in the crescent, running like mercury. “I wonder where it came from….”

  … a wall …

  … impossibly long, incredibly high …

  … in a scarred desert where the sky and earth were brown, and the sun was a distant dot …

  She shuddered as the images filled her mind, then faded. She looked over at her brother. “It’s older than the pyramid. Much older. I don’t even think it’s from this world.”

  Josh circled the pattern, studying it. “This world is such a crazy mixture of magic and technology. They’ve got this amazing mile-high pyramid with lighted walls, and yet they can’t even fix the vimana. They can create Shadowrealms and make human-animal hybrids, but they wear armor and everyone carries swords. There are no cars, no phones, and nothing that even looks like a TV!”

  “I think we’re seeing a dying world, Josh,” Sophie said slowly. “Whoever created the original technology and built the pyramids is either gone or Changing. Sure, there are people like Isis and Osiris who have amazing abilities. But what do they do: instead of using those powers to do something useful, they’ve spent thousands of years working to make sure that we’ll rule Danu Talis.”

  “For them,” Josh said suddenly. He crouched down and looked at his sister. “They’ve gone to all this trouble to make sure that we’ll rule Danu Talis for them.” He emphasized the last two words as he looked into Sophie’s blue eyes.

  “I guess they just expect us to do whatever they want.”

  “I guess they’re going to be disappointed.”

  “And then what happens?” she asked.

  He shook his head. “I have no idea. Well, I do, actually, but I don’t want to even think about it yet.” Josh straightened and rolled his shoulders. “It’s kind of creepy in here, don’t you think?”

  “Creepy? What do you have to be scared about?” Sophie stood, dusting off her gloves, and stepped away from the ancient tiled pattern. “Josh, did you get a good look at some of the people we just walked past? I guess they weren’t really people, but just think of all we’ve seen and done over the past few days.”

  Josh nodded.

  “You should never be scared again,” Sophie concluded.

  Her twin shrugged. “I’m a little scared now,” he admitted.

  “Don’t be,” she said firmly.

  Josh rolled his eyes. “You’re always bossing me around. I can be scared if I want to.”

  They both grinned, and then Sophie leaned in and lowered her voice. “Maybe it’s my enhanced senses, but I think we’re being watched.”

  Josh nodded again. He rubbed the back of his neck casually. “My neck is tingling—you know that feeling you get when someone is staring at you?”

  “Isis and Osiris?” she suggested.

  “I don’t think so. What reason would they have to spy on us? They’re used to us doing what we’re told, like good little boys and girls. They trained us to be obedient, just like they trained their servants.”

  “Let’s walk,” she said very softly. “Our boots will echo off the walls in here and it’ll be harder to listen to us.” She clasped her hands behind her back and started down the center of the room, eyes seeking out the dark corners, watching for movement in the shadows.

  Josh fell into step beside her. Their metal boots pinged off the floor, then echoed and reechoed off the stone.

  “Maybe this was a library. It looks like there were shelves on the walls here,” Sophie said loudly, pointing. “You can see the marks.” Then she frowned. “Osiris said not to touch anything”—she looked at her twin and lowered her voice—“but there’s really nothing here to touch.”

  “So whatever was here was re
moved,” Josh said, rubbing his hand across his mouth as he spoke.

  “And Isis and Osiris don’t know about it yet,” Sophie added.

  “I get the impression they don’t spend a lot of time here,” he said.

  Sophie nodded in agreement. “I wonder why.”

  The twins moved back to the center of the floor, as far away from the walls as possible. They spoke loudly about the size of the room, its height, the light. Josh even whistled and clapped his hands to hear the echo.

  After they’d been walking for quite some time, they reached one of the end walls. Horizontal lines etched into the gold stone clearly marked the outlines of shelves, and tiny punctures in the brickwork showed where they’d been fixed in place. But the shelves themselves were missing, and along with them, whatever they’d held.

  Josh ran his finger along the wall and it came away clean. “This happened recently. Dust hasn’t even had time to gather.”

  Sophie looked at her brother, impressed. “That was smart. I wouldn’t have thought to check that.”

  “I saw it in an old Sherlock Holmes movie,” he admitted with a grin.

  The twins started back toward where Isis and Osiris had left them. Sophie hesitated for a moment, then reached over to touch her brother’s arm. Her metal glove scraped against his armor. “They’re not our parents, are they?”

  Josh continued walking. He had taken almost a dozen steps before he answered. “I’ve been thinking about that almost from the first moment they told us who they were.”

  “So have I,” Sophie admitted.

  “On earth, for all these years, they sure acted like our parents. They were good parents to us too, and they did everything the right way. But …”

  “But they were always a little cold,” Sophie said, nodding. “Even before all this happened, there were times when I’d wonder if they’d read instructions out of a book on how to be parents. There was something weird about it. Everyone else’s mom and dad were more …” She paused, looking for the word.

  “Natural?” Josh said.

  “Yeah. Natural. It seemed easy for them, and I don’t think that was ever the case with our parents. I even said something to Mom—Isis—about it once; right after we settled in Austin. She just laughed and said that of course we were different, and of course we’d feel weird about it. We were twins, and new to the school, of course we were going to feel out of place.”