Gilgamesh's lips moved, and Sophie bent her head to hear his words. "Water," he whispered, his breath warm on her face.
"I don't have any," she said tearfully. She knew she should be doing something, but she couldn't think, couldn't focus. All she could see was the old man in her arms, the terrible black arrow protruding from his chest. She wanted to help him; she just didn't know how.
The king's lips moved in a painful smile. "Not to drink," he rasped. "Water: the ultimate weapon."
Before she could respond, the Archon tore away the entire front of the barn. She spun around, and through the gaping hole she could see what was happening outside. Nicholas Flamel, his aura green and glowing, was battling with Dr. John Dee, who was wrapped in smoking sulfurous yellow. Dee fought with a long whip of sallow energy while the Alchemyst tried to keep him at bay with a solid spear of green light. Palamedes was surrounded by the remainder of the Wild Hunt, the huge wolves darting in to snap and claw at him, threatening to overwhelm him as he slashed and cut with the longsword.
"Josh." Sophie was calm. "The king said we should use water."
"Water?" Her twin glanced down. "But I don't know how…"
"Remember what I said about instinct?" She stretched up her right hand and her twin reached down with his left to take it.
Cernunnos finished demolishing the front of the building and pulled a savage-looking stone-headed club out of its belt. "You cannot defend yourself and the girl," it grunted.
"I only have to defend the girl," Josh whispered.
Cernunnos took a step forward… and then the ground opened up beneath it. What had been hard-baked earth turned to a sticky quagmire, swallowing its ankles. Water, thick and muddy, bubbled up from beneath the ground. A tiny geyser squirted from a fissure, and then a whole section of the earth cracked and suddenly dissolved into muck. The Archon lurched forward, the club falling from his hand. Another patch of earth turned to soupy marsh and the creature sank up to its knees, then its hips. Grimly silent now, its oval amber eyes fixed on the twins, blazing with hate, Cernunnos dug its huge hands into the ground and attempted to heave itself up.
"Mistake," Josh whispered.
The ground liquefied around the Archon's hands.
"We just need a little more water," Sophie whispered.
Josh actually felt the water surging through the hard-baked earth, experienced its power as it pushed its way upward, driven by incredible pressure from below, slicing through mud, pulverizing the soil, pushing rocks and tree roots ahead of it.
The Archon howled and bellowed as it sank to its chest in mud, its huge bulk driving it deeper into the ground. The creature's hands battered the sticky earth, sending it spraying everywhere. It grabbed for purchase, but found nothing but mud. A bubble popped behind it, a stone emerging to the surface of the mire, and another and then a third. And suddenly, sticky brown-black mud spewed upward, raining down to coat the creature in filth, battering it with scraps of tree roots and chunks of stone. A circular depression opened up around Cernunnos and the Archon was swallowed, mud flowing over its head, until only the very tips of its antlers showed.
Sophie jerked her hand away from her brother's and splayed her silver metal fingers. An intense blast of white-hot fire blazed over the swampy circle, the searing heat baking the ground iron-hard in an instant.
"We did it," Josh laughed. "We did it! I could feel the power flowing through me. The Magic of Water," he said in wonder.
"Josh, get out there. Help them," Sophie commanded, all the color draining from her face as her aura depleted.
"What about you?"
"Do it," she snapped, eyes winking silver.
"You're not the boss of me." He grinned.
"Oh yes I am." She smiled and reached up to squeeze his fingers. "Remember, I'm older."
Smiling, Josh turned and raced out into the field, Clarent whistling before him, cleaving a path toward Palamedes. Part of him wanted to help the Alchemyst, but an instinct deep down told him it made more sense to rescue the knight first; two warriors were better than one.
Gilgamesh's grip tightened on Sophie's fingers. "You must go now," he said in a hoarse whisper. "Get away from here."
"I'm not leaving you. You're injured."
"You will never leave me," the king said, "you will live forever in my memory." He suddenly grabbed the arrow protruding from his chest, pulled it out and flung it away. "And this, hah, it will slow me down for a bit, but it will take more than this to kill me. You go, go now. Your aura, the Alchemyst's and the Magician's will have called every evil thing in this county. And probably the authorities, too." His eyes flickered toward the green and yellow light blazing from the immortals' weapons. "I'm sure that light can be seen from miles away." The king squeezed Sophie's hand. "Know this: if we meet again, I may not remember you." He pulled the thick sheaf of mismatched pages from under his shirt, extracted the topmost sheet and pressed it into her hand. "And if I do not, then give me this. It will remind me of the girl who shed a tear for the lost king. Go now. Get to the leygate."
"But I don't know where it is," Sophie said.
"The Alchemyst does…" He turned to look at Flamel, and Sophie followed his gaze. At that moment Flamel's aura winked out as he crumpled to the ground. Dee shouted in triumph and drew the crackling yellow whip back over his head. rom the corner of his eye, Josh saw the Alchemyst's aura die and turned to watch him fall.
And he knew he was too far away to get to him in time.
He spun around and Clarent sliced a mangy one-eyed wolf to dust, and then, pivoting on his heel as if he were throwing a discus, he flung the sword at Dee. The blade sounded like a cat as it screamed through the air, the stone glowing red-black. The Magician saw it at the last moment. The whip in his hand became a glowing circular shield and Clarent hit its center in an explosion of black and yellow sparks that hammered the Magician to the ground. His aura crackled, then died. And he didn't get up.
A child-faced wolf leapt at Josh, its jaws gaping, and he hissed in pain as its claws raked his arm. Abruptly, the wolf exploded to dust. Sophie shook black soot off the metal shamshir blade Gilgamesh had given her. "Get the car, we've got to get out of here."
Josh hesitated, torn between retrieving Clarent and getting to the car. Wings flapped overhead and a six-foot-tall rat-like creature dropped out of the night sky, claws extended toward Sophie. Its hiss of triumph became a gurgle as the iron blade drove upward, turning it to gritty sand. "Now, Josh!" Sophie demanded, spitting dirt from her mouth.
Her twin turned and ran for the car. The night had come alive with a cacophony of sounds: howling, yipping and barking. Hooves clattered on the hard earth. The noises were getting louder, closer.
Palamedes had left the key in the car's ignition. Josh slid into the driver's seat, took a deep breath and turned it. The car started on his first try. Gripping the wheel tightly, he floored the accelerator. Two wolves disappeared under the wheels in puffs of dust. Another leapt onto the hood, but he jerked the steering wheel and it slid off, leaving long claw marks across the metal. He ran down a coal black wolf that was creeping up on Sophie and hit the brakes. "You called for a cab?"
But Sophie didn't climb in. "Get Palamedes," she snapped. Running alongside the car, she slashed and cut her way through the wolves of the Wild Hunt with the metal blade until they reached the Saracen Knight, who was standing ankle-deep in black dust.
"Get in, get in!" Josh shouted.
Palamedes wrenched open the door, pushed Sophie in first, then threw himself into the back of the cab. Josh took off with a wheel-spinning lurch. He pulled up to Nicholas, who was lying unmoving on the ground. Sophie leaned out of the back of the cab, caught him by his shoulders and tried to haul him into the car, but he was too heavy. Palamedes reached out and even in his exhausted and weakened state dragged the Alchemyst in with one hand.
Sophie slapped the glass partition with the palm of her hand. "Go, Josh, go!"
"I've got to get Clarent."
In the rearview mirror, Josh could see that the field was full of monsters. They looked like they were part of the Wild Hunt, but these wolves were black, with brutish, almost apelike faces, and were twice the size of the gray wolves. Running alongside them were huge coal-colored cats with blazing red eyes.
"What are they?" Josh shouted.
"Aspects of the Wild Hunt from all across the country," Palamedes said tiredly.
Josh glanced at the long grass where he knew Clarent was lying and made a decision. It would take only a moment to get to it… but doing so would endanger everyone. Even as he floored the accelerator, he recognized that the old Josh Newman would have put his own needs above others and gone for the sword. He had changed. Maybe it had to do with the magic he'd learned, but he doubted it. The experiences of the past few days had taught him what was important.
Sophie leaned out the window, gathering strength she didn't know she possessed, and pressed her thumb against the circle on her wrist. An arrow-straight line of raging vanilla-scented fire blazed into six-foot flames, bringing the charging creatures to a halt.
"What do I do?" Josh shouted. "Where do I go?" A wooden gate appeared in the headlights. Josh held on, hunched his shoulders and drove straight through it, shattering it into splinters. A length of timber snapped back and punched a hole through the windshield.
Palamedes grabbed the Alchemyst and none too gently shook his head. Flamel's eyes cracked open and his lips moved, but no sound came out. "Where are we going?" the knight demanded.
"Stonehenge," Flamel mumbled.
"Yes, yes, I know that. Where, specifically?"
"The heart of the Henge," the Alchemyst whispered, head lolling. Sophie saw that there were long tears in his clothing where Dee's whip had sliced at him. The skin beneath was blistered and raw. Focusing the remnants of her aura into the tip of her index finger, Sophie drew it along one of the nastier cuts, sealing and healing it.
"Where's Gilgamesh?" Palamedes asked.
"He was wounded. He told me to go; he made me go." Sophie's voice caught. "I didn't want to."
The Saracen Knight smiled kindly. "He's impossible to kill," he said.
"Where do I go?" Josh called again from the front seat.
"Just follow my directions," Palamedes said, leaning forward. "Go left. Stick to the back roads, there should be no traffic…"
The road behind them suddenly lit up with blue and white light. Headlights flashed and sirens blared. "Police," Josh said, unnecessarily.
"Keep going," Palamedes commanded. "Stop for nothing." He looked out the rear window at the police cars and turned to Sophie. "Is there anything you can do?"
Sophie shook her head. "I have nothing left." She lifted her hand. It was trembling violently, and tiny wisps of smoke curled off her fingertips.
"We have three police cars closing in on us," Josh yelled back from the front seat. "Do something!"
"You do something," Palamedes said. "Sophie has no power left. It's up to you, Josh."
"I'm driving," he protested.
"Think of something," the knight snapped.
"What should I do?" he asked desperately.
"Think of rain," Sophie murmured.
Josh kept his foot pressed to the floor, the cab roaring down the road, speedometer touching ninety. Rain. OK, they'd lived in Chicago, New York, Seattle and San Francisco. He knew all about rain. The boy imagined water falling from the skies: thick fat drops of rain, torrential rain, misty summer rain, frozen winter rain.
"Nothing's happening," he called.
Abruptly, a torrential downpour washed across the road behind them, sluicing from a cloud that hadn't been there a heartbeat earlier. The nearest police car hit a patch of water and skidded sideways, and the second car crashed into its back passenger door. A tire exploded. The third car rear-ended the second and the three cars slid across the road, completely blocking it in a tangle of metal. The sirens died to squawks.
"Nicely done," Palamedes commented.
"Where to now?"
The knight pointed. "Over there."
Josh ducked his head to look to the left. Stonehenge was smaller than he'd imagined, and the road came surprisingly close to the standing stones.
"Stop here. We'll get out and run," Palamedes said.
"Stop where?" Josh asked, looking around.
"Right here!"
Josh hit the brakes and the car skidded to a halt. Palamedes leapt from the car, the Alchemyst unceremoniously draped over his shoulder. "Follow me," the knight shouted. His huge sword slashed a metal fence to ribbons.
Josh grabbed the Persian sword and wrapped his arm around his sister, who was struggling to stay conscious, holding her as they raced across the grass toward the circle of standing stones.
"And whatever you do," the Saracen Knight shouted, "don't look back."
Sophie and Josh both looked back. ou know her?" Billy the Kid asked, dipping his head and speaking out of the corner of his mouth. He was looking at the back of the woman they were following through the maze of stone and metal corridors.
Machiavelli nodded. "We've met on occasion," he said quietly. "She is the Crow Goddess, one of the Next Generation."
The woman's head swiveled around like an owl's to regard the two men. Her eyes were hidden behind mirrored wraparound sunglasses. "And my hearing is excellent."
Billy grinned. He took two quick steps forward and fell in alongside the woman in black leather. He stuck out his hand. "William Bonney, ma'am. Most people just call me Billy."
The Crow Goddess looked at the hand and then she smiled, overlong incisors pressing against her black lips. "Don't touch me. I bite."
Billy was unfazed. "I haven't been immortal for long, a mite over a hundred twenty-six years, in fact, and I've not met that many Elders or Next Generation. Certainly no one like you…"
"William," Machiavelli said quietly, "I think you should stop bothering the Crow Goddess."
"I'm not bothering her, I'm just asking…"
"You're immortal, William, not invulnerable." Machiavelli smiled. "The Morrigan is worshipped in the Celtic lands as a goddess of death. That should be a clue to her nature." He suddenly stopped walking. "What was that?"
Billy the Kid's hand dipped under his coat and came out with a fifteen-inch-long bowie knife. His face changed, instantly becoming hard. "What?"
Machiavelli held up his hand, silencing the American. Head tilted to one side, he concentrated. "It sounds like-"
"-an outboard engine!" Billy took off at a run. Machiavelli cast a quick suspicious glance at the Crow Goddess and turned to race back down the corridor.
Moments later the sphinx padded around the corner. She spotted the Crow Goddess and stopped, and the two women bowed politely. They were distantly related through a complex web of Elder relationships. "I thought I heard something," the sphinx said.
"So did they." The Crow Goddess's smile was savage.
Nicholas had never learned to drive, but Perenelle had finally taken lessons ten years ago and, after six weeks of driving school, passed her test on the first attempt. They had never bought a car, but Perenelle had forgotten none of her lessons. It took her a few moments to work out how to control the small bright yellow motorboat. She turned the key in the ignition and pushed the throttle, and the outboard motor foamed white water. Spinning the wheel, she pushed the throttle farther and the boat roared away from Alcatraz Island, leaving a V of white water in its wake.
De Ayala's face coalesced out of the spray spitting in over the bow. "I thought you were going to fight."
"Fighting is a last resort," she shouted above the wind and the roar of the engine. "If Scathach and Joan had joined me, perhaps then I would have gone up against the sphinx and the two immortals. But not on my own."
"What about the Spider God?"
"Areop-Enap can take care of itself," Perenelle said. "They'd best hope they're not on the island when it awakes. It'll be
hungry, and the Old Spider has a voracious appetite."
A tiny distant shout made her turn. Machiavelli and his companion were on the docks. The Italian was standing still, and the smaller man was waving his arms, sunlight glinting off a knife in his hand.
"Will they not use their magic?" de Ayala asked.
"Magic is not really effective over running water." Perenelle grinned.
"I fear I must leave you, madame. I need to return to the island." The ghost's face started to dissolve into spray.
"Thank you, Juan, for all that you have done," Perenelle said sincerely in formal Spanish. "I am in your debt."
"Will you be back to Alcatraz?"
Perenelle looked over her shoulder at the prison. Knowing now that the cells held a collection of nightmares, she thought the island itself looked almost like a sleeping beast. "I will." Someone would have to do something about the army before it was awakened. "I will be back. And soon," she promised.
"I will be waiting," de Ayala said, and vanished.
Perenelle angled the boat in toward the pier and eased back on the throttle. A delighted smile crept across her face. She was free.
Niccolo Machiavelli took a deep breath and calmed himself. Anger clouded judgment, and right now he needed to be thinking clearly. He had underestimated the Sorceress, and she'd made him pay for that mistake. It was unforgivable. He'd been sent to Alcatraz to kill Perenelle and he'd failed. Neither his master nor Dee's master was going to be happy, though he had a feeling that Dee himself would not be too upset. The English Magician would probably gloat.
Although he feared the Sorceress, Machiavelli had really wanted to fight the woman. He had never forgiven her for defeating him on Mount Etna and over the centuries had spent a fortune collecting spells, incantations and cantrips that would destroy her. He was determined to have his revenge. And she had cheated him. Not with magic, or with the power of her aura. But with cunning… and that was supposed to be his specialty.
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