them, Clarent moving to intercept each strike, the Disir s metal blade
slamming off his stone sword in a shower of sparks, each blow driving him
back, the force vibrating through his entire body. The Disir was just too
fast. The next swipe struck his bare arm between the shoulder and elbow.
Clarent managed to nudge the sword at the last instant, so it was only the
flat of the blade, rather than the razor-sharp edge, that hit him. Instantly,
his entire arm went numb from shoulder to fingertips and he felt a sudden
wash of nausea from the pain, the fear and the sudden realization that he was
going to die. Clarent fell from his grasp and clattered to the ground.
When the woman smiled, Josh saw that her teeth were thin needle points.
Easy. Too easy. A legendary sword does not make you a swordsman. Hefting
the broadsword, she advanced on the boy, driving him right up against
Nidhogg s stone-flesh. Josh squeezed his eyes shut as she raised her arms
high and screamed a hideous war cry. Odin!
Sophie, he whispered.
Josh!
Two blocks away, stuck in unmoving traffic, Sophie Newman sat bolt upright in
the backseat of the car, a sudden stomach-churning feeling of terror catching
her in her chest, setting her heart pounding madly.
Nicholas spun around and caught the girl s hand. Tell me!
Tears filled her eyes. Josh, she gasped, almost unable to speak with the
lump in her throat. Josh is in danger, terrible danger. The car filled with
the overpowering smell of rich vanilla as her aura blossomed. Tiny sparks
danced on the end of her blond hair, crackling like cellophane. We ve got to
get to him!
We re going nowhere, Joan said grimly. Traffic on the narrow street was at
a complete standstill.
A chill settled in Sophie s stomach: it was the appalling fear that her
brother was going to die.
Sidewalk, Nicholas said decisively. Take it.
But the pedestrians
Can get out of the way. Use your horn. He swiveled back around to Sophie.
We re minutes away, he said as Joan bumped the small car up off the
pavement and roared down the sidewalk, horn squeaking plaintively.
That s going to be too late. There must be something you can do? Sophie
pleaded desperately. Anything?
Looking old and tired, lines etched into his forehead and around his eyes,
Nicholas Flamel shook his head miserably. There is nothing I can do, he
admitted.
Sparking, crackling, snapping, a sheet of stinking yellow-white flame winked
into existence between Josh and the Disir. The heat was so intense it drove
him back onto Nidhogg s clawed feet and crisped his hair, scorching his
eyebrows and eyelashes. The Disir too staggered back, blinded by the foul
flames.
Josh!
Someone called his name, but the terrifying flames were roaring right in
front of his face.
The proximity of the fire roused the monster. It took a shuddering step, the
movement of its leg thrusting Josh forward onto his hands and knees, pitching
him dangerously close to the flames which died as abruptly as they had risen.
He hit the ground hard, hands and knees stinging with the contact. The smell
of rotten eggs was appalling and his eyes and nose were streaming, but
through his tears, he saw Clarent and attempted to reach for it just as
someone shouted at him again.
Josh!
The Disir threw herself at Josh once more, sword thrusting at him. A solid
spear of yellow flame struck the woman, exploding over her chain mail, which
immediately started to rust and fall away. And then another wall of flame
roared into existence between the boy and the warrior.
Josh. A hand fell on Josh s shoulder and he jumped, shouting aloud with
fright and the pain in his bruised shoulder. He looked up to find Dr. John
Dee leaning over him.
Dirty yellow smoke dribbled from the Magician s hands, which were barely
covered in torn gray gloves, and his once-elegant suit was now a ruined mess.
Dee smiled kindly. It would be best if we left right now. He gestured
toward the flames. I can t keep this up forever. Even as he was speaking,
the Disir's blade cut blindly through the fire, flames curling around the
metal as it sought a target. Dee hauled Josh to his feet and dragged him
backward.
Wait, Josh said hoarsely, voice raw with a combination of fear and the
smoke. Scatty He coughed and tried again. Scatty is trapped .
Escaped, Dee said quickly, putting an arm around the boy s shoulder,
supporting him, leading him toward a police car.
Escaped? Josh mumbled, confused.
Nidhogg lost its grip on her when I created the curtain of fire between you
and the Disir. I saw her roll away from its claws, jump to her feet and race
down the quay.
She ran she ran away? That didn't sound right. She d been limp and
unconscious the last time he d seen her. He tried to concentrate, but his
head was throbbing, and the flesh on his face felt tight from the flames.
Even the legendary Warrior could not stand against Nidhogg. Heroes survive
to fight again because they know when to run.
She left me?
I doubt she even knew you were there, Dee said quickly, bundling Josh into
the back of a badly parked police car and sliding in beside him. He tapped
the white-haired driver on the shoulder. Let s go.
Josh sat up straight. Wait I dropped Clarent, he said.
Trust me, Dee said, you don't want to return for it. He leaned back so
that Josh could look out the window. The Disir, her once-pristine white chain
mail now hanging in tattered and rotting shreds about her, strode through the
dying yellow flames. She spotted the boy in the back of the car and raced
toward it, shouting unintelligibly in a language that sounded like wolves
howling.
Niccol , Dee said quickly. She's rather upset. We really should be going
now, right now.
Josh looked away from the approaching Disir at the driver and was horrified
to discover that it was the same man he'd seen on Sacre -Coeur's steps.
Machiavelli turned the key in the ignition so savagely that the starter
screeched. The car lurched, jerked forward, then died.
Oh great, Dee muttered. That' s just great. Josh watched as the Magician
leaned out the window, brought his hand to his mouth and blew sharply into
it. A yellow sphere of smoke rolled from his palm and dropped onto the
ground. It bounced twice like a rubber ball, then exploded at head height
just as it reached the Disir. Thick, sticky strands the color and consistency
of dirty honey splashed over the Disir, then dripped down in long streamers,
gluing her to the ground. That should hold her , Dee began. The Disir's
broadsword sliced easily through the strands. Or maybe not.
Through his pain, Josh realized that Machiavelli had tried and failed to get
the car started again. Let me, he muttered, scrambling over the back of the
seat as Machiavelli slid over to the passenger side. His right shoulder was
still aching, but at least feeling had returned to his fingers, and he didn't
think anything was broken. He was going to have
a massive bruise to add to
his growing collection. Turning the key in the ignition, he floored the
accelerator and simultaneously slammed the car into reverse just as the Disir
reached it. He was suddenly thankful that he d learned to drive a stick shift
on his father s old battered Volvo. The warrior s flailing sword struck the
door, puncturing the metal, the tip of the blade inches from Josh's leg. As
the car screeched backward, the Disir set her feet firmly and held on to her
sword with both hands. The blade tore a horizontal rip right across the door
and into the wing over the engine, peeling back the metal as if it were
paper. It also tore apart the front driver's-side tire, which exploded with a
dull bang.
Keep going! Dee shouted.
I m not stopping, Josh promised.
With the engine whining in protest and the front tire flapping and banging
off the ground, Josh tore away from the quayside
just as Joan wheeled the slightly scratched Citro n in at the other end.
Joan hit the brakes and the car screeched to a halt on the morning-wet
stones. Sophie, Nicholas and Joan watched in confusion as Josh reversed a
battered police car at high speed away from Nidhogg and the Disir. They could
clearly see Dee and Machiavelli in the car as he executed a clumsy handbrake
turn and sped from the parking lot.
For a single heartbeat, the Disir stood on the quayside, looking lost and
bewildered. Then she spotted the newcomers. Turning, she raced toward them,
sword held high over her head, screeching a barbaric war cry.
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
I ll take care of this, Joan said, sounding almost pleased at the
prospect. She touched Flamel' s sleeve and nodded to where the Warrior was
still wrapped in Nidhogg's claws. Get Scathach. The monster was now less
than six feet from the edge of the quay and edging ever closer to the safety
of the water.
The tiny Frenchwoman grabbed her sword and leapt out of the car.
More humani with swords, the Disir spat, blade falling toward the woman.
Not just any humani, Joan said, easily turning the weapon aside, her own
sword then flicking out to clink against the remains of the rusted mail on
the Disir's shoulders. I am Joan of Arc! The longsword in her hands twirled
and twisted, creating a spinning wheel of steel that drove the Disir back
with the ferocity of its attack. I am the Maid of Orl ans.
Sophie and Nicholas moved cautiously toward Nidhogg. Sophie noted that its
entire tail was coated with heavy black stone, which had now started to creep
up its back and down its hind legs. The weight of the stone tail anchored the
creature to the ground, and Sophie saw its huge muscles bunching and rippling
as it tugged itself toward the water. She could see where its claws and
dragging tail left deep indentations in the pavement.
Sophie, Flamel shouted, I need some help!
But Josh , she began, distracted.
Josh is gone, he snapped. He swooped in to snatch Clarent off the ground,
hissing in surprise at the heat of the weapon. Darting forward, he slapped at
Nidhogg with the sword. The blade bounced harmlessly off the stone-sheathed
skin. Sophie, help me free Scatty and then we ll go after Josh. Use your
powers.
The Alchemyst hacked at Nidhogg again but without any effect. His worst fears
had been realized: Dee had gotten his hands on Josh and Josh had the last two
pages from the Codex. Nicholas looked over his shoulder. Sophie was standing
still, looking frightened and completely bemused.
Sophie! Help me.
Sophie obediently raised her hands, pressed her thumb against her tattoo and
tried to call on her Fire magic. Nothing happened. She couldn't concentrate;
she was too worried about her brother. What was he doing? Why had he gone
with Dee and Machiavelli? It didn't look as though they had forced him
to he d been driving them!
Sophie! Nicholas called.
But she knew he d been in danger real and terrible danger. She d felt the
emotion deep within her, recognized it for what it was. Whenever Josh was in
trouble, she knew. When he d nearly drowned off Pakala Beach on Kauai, she d
woken up breathless and gasping; when he d broken his ribs on the football
field in Pittsburgh, she d distinctly felt the sharp pain in her left side,
felt the sting with every breath she took.
Sophie!
What had happened? One moment he was in mortal danger and the next ?
Sophie! Flamel snarled.
What? she snapped, turning on the Alchemyst. She felt a quick surge of
anger; Josh was right he d been right all along. This was the Alchemyst's
fault.
Sophie, he said more gently. I need you to help me. I can t do this on my
own.
Sophie turned to look at the Alchemyst. He was crouched on the ground, cool
green vapor puddling around him. A thick emerald cord of smoke wrapped around
one of Nidhogg's huge legs and disappeared deep into the earth, where it
looked as if Flamel had attempted to trap it. Another rope of smoke, thinner,
less substantial than the first, was loosely wrapped around one of the
creature's hind legs. Nidhogg inched forward and the green cord snapped and
dissolved into the air. Another few steps and it would carry Scathach her
friend into the river. Sophie wasn't going to let that happen.
Her fear and anger lent her focus. When she pressed her tattoo, flames popped
alight on each finger. She splashed silver fire across Nidhogg's back, but it
had no effect. Then she peppered the monster with tiny fiery hailstones, but
it didn't even seem to notice. It continued to edge nearer to the water.
Fire didn't work, so she tried wind. But the miniature tornados she threw
bounced harmlessly off the creature. Scouring the Witch's memories, she tried
a trick Hekate had used against the Mongol Horde. She whipped up a sharp wind
that drove stinging grit and dirt into Nidhogg's eyes. The creature merely
blinked and a second, protective eyelid slid down over its huge eye.
Nothing's working! she screamed as the monster dragged Scatty ever closer
to the edge. Nothing's working!
The Disir's sword slashed out. Joan ducked, and the heavy blade whistled over
her head and sliced into the Citron, turning the windshield into white
powder, popping off the tiny windshield wipers.
Joan was furious; she loved her 2CV Charleston. Francis had wanted to buy her
a new car for her birthday, in January. He d given her a pile of glossy car
catalogs and told her to pick one. She d pushed the catalogs aside and told
him she d always wanted the little classic French car. He d searched all over
Europe for the perfect model and then spent a small fortune having it
restored to its original pristine condition. When he d presented it to her,
it had been wrapped in three thick ribbons of blue, white and red.
Another wide slash from the Disir scored a rent on the hood of the car, and
then another cut off the small round headlight that perched over the right
front wheel arch like an eye. The light bounced away and shattered.
Do you know, Joan asked, her huge eyes dark with fury, renewing her attack
on the Disir, every word matched by a hammer blow from her sword, how
difficult it is to find original parts for this car?
The Disir fell back, desperately trying to defend herself from Joan's
whirling blade, pieces of her rotting chain mail flying away as the small
Frenchwoman's sword struck closer and closer. She kept trying different
fighting styles to defend herself, but nothing was effective against the
ferocious onslaught.
You will notice, Joan continued, pushing the warrior back toward the river,
that I have no fighting style. That is because I was trained by the greatest
warrior of all. I was trained by Scathach the Shadow.
You may defeat me, the Disir said grimly, but my sisters will avenge my
death.
Your sisters, Joan said, with a final savage cut that snapped the Disir's
blade in two. Would they be the two Valkyries currently frozen into their
own personal iceberg?
The Disir faltered, swaying on the edge of the wall along the river.
Impossible. We are undefeatable.
Everyone can be defeated. The flat of Joan's blade clanged against the
Disir's helmet, stunning her. Then Joan darted forward, her shoulder catching
the swaying Disir in the chest, knocking her backward into the Seine. Only
ideas are immortal, she whispered.
Still clutching the broken remains of her sword, the Valkyrie disappeared
into the murky river in a huge splash that drenched Joan from head to toe.
Sophie was puzzled. Her magic had failed against Nidhogg but how had Josh ?
He had no powers.
The sword: he had the sword.
Sophie snatched Clarent from Flamel's hand. And instantly her aura snapped to
life, sparking, crackling, long streamers of icy light spinning around her
body. She felt a rush of emotions, a swirling mess of thoughts, ugly
thoughts, dark thoughts, the memories and emotions of those men and women who
had carried the sword in ages past. She was about to fling the weapon away in
disgust, but she knew it was probably Scatty s only chance. Nidhogg's tail
was wounded, so Josh must have cut it there. But she d seen the Alchemyst
hack at the tough hide with no result.
Unless
Racing up to the monster, she plunged the weapon point first into its
shoulder.
The effect was immediate. Red-black fire burned along the length of the
Nicholas Flamel 2 - The Magician sotinf-2 Page 28