The Magician

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

I m going to bed. Sophie Newman paused by the kitchen door, a glass of

water in her hand, and looked back to where Josh was still sitting at the

table. Francis is going to teach me some specific fire spells in the

morning. He promised to show me the fireworks trick.

Great, we ll never have to buy fireworks again for the Fourth of July.

Sophie smiled tiredly. don't stay up too long, it s nearly dawn.

Josh shoved another piece of toast into his mouth. I m still on Pacific

time, he said, his voice muffled. But I ll be up in a few minutes. Scatty

wants to continue my sword training tomorrow. I m really looking forward to

it.

Liar, liar.

He grunted. Well, you've got your magic to protect you all I have is a stone

sword.

The bitterness was clearly audible in his voice, and Sophie forced herself

not to comment. She was getting tired of her brother s constant whining. She

had never asked to be Awakened; she hadn't wanted to know the Witch s magic

or Saint-Germain s, either. But it had happened and she was dealing with it,

and Josh would just have to get over it. Good night, she said. She closed

the door behind her, leaving Josh alone in the kitchen.

When he finished the last of the toast, he gathered up his plate and glass

and carried them both to the sink. He ran hot water over the plate, then set

it to drip dry in the wire dish rack beside the deep ceramic sink. Refilling

his glass from the jug of filtered water, he crossed to the kitchen door,

pulled it open and stepped out into the tiny garden. Although it was almost

dawn, he didn't feel the least bit tired, but then again, he reminded

himself, he had slept for most of the day. Over the high wall, he couldn't

see much of the Parisian skyline except for the warm orange glow from the

streetlights. He looked up, but there were no stars visible in the heavens.

Sitting on the step, he breathed deeply. The air was cool and damp, just like

San Francisco s, though it lacked the familiar salt tang that he loved; it

was tainted instead with unfamiliar smells, few of which were pleasant. He

felt a sneeze gathering at the back of his nose and sniffed hard, eyes

watering. There was the stench of overflowing trash cans and rotting fruit,

and he detected a nastier, fouler stink that was vaguely familiar. Closing

his mouth, he breathed deeply through his nose, trying to identify it: what

was it? It was something he d smelled very recently .

Snake.

Josh leapt to his feet. There weren t snakes in Paris, were there? Deep in

his chest, Josh felt his heart begin to beat faster. He was terrified of

snakes, a bone-chilling fear that he could trace back to when he d been about

ten. He d been camping with his father in Wupatki National Monument in

Arizona when he d slipped off a trail and slid down an incline, straight into

a rattlesnake nest. When the dust had cleared, he d realized he was lying

next to a six-foot-long snake. The creature had raised its wedge-shaped head

and stared at him with coal black eyes for what was probably no more than a

second though it felt like a lifetime before Josh had managed to scramble

out, too terrified and breathless even to scream. He d never been able to

work out why the snake hadn't attacked him, though his father told him that

rattlesnakes were actually shy and that it had probably just eaten. He d had

nightmares about the incident for weeks afterward, and after every one he

would wake up with that smell of serpent musk in his nostrils.

He was smelling it now.

And it was getting stronger.

Josh started backing up the steps. There was a sudden scrabbling sound, like

a squirrel running up the side of a tree. Then, directly in front of him, on

the other side of the small courtyard, claws, each one the length of his

hand, appeared over the top of the nine-foot-high wall. They moved around

slowly, almost delicately, questing for a hold, and then abruptly gripped

hard enough for the talons to bite deep into the old bricks. Josh froze, all

the breath leaving his body in one shocked exhalation.

The arms that followed were covered in thick knobbled hide and then the head

of a monster appeared over the wall. It was long and slablike, with two

rounded nostrils on the end of a blunt snout directly over its mouth and

solid black eyes sunk deep behind circular depressions on either side of its

skull. Unable to move, unable to breathe, his heart hammering so hard it was

physically shaking his body, Josh watched the huge head swivel lazily from

side to side, an immensely long, ghastly white forked tongue flickering in

the air. It froze, then slowly, very slowly, shifted its head and looked down

at Josh. The merest tip of its tongue tasted the air and then it opened its

mouth wide impossibly wide, enough to swallow him whole and the boy saw a

mouthful of teeth: sharp, ragged curved daggers.

Josh wanted to turn and run screaming, but he couldn't. There was something

mesmerizing about the appalling creature clambering over the wall. All his

life he d been fascinated by dinosaurs: he d collected fossils, eggs, bones

and teeth even dinosaur coprolites. And now he was looking at a living

dinosaur. There was even a part of his brain that identified the creature or

at least, what it resembled. It was a Komodo dragon. They didn't grow much

longer than ten feet in the wild, but he could already see that this creature

was at least three times that.

Stone cracked. An old brick exploded into dust, and then a second, a third.

Then there was a crunching, snapping, ripping sound, and almost in slow

motion Josh watched as the wall, with the creature draped over the top,

swayed, then crashed to the ground. The metal door buckled in two, popped off

its hinges and shattered against the water fountain, tearing a huge chunk out

of the basin. The monster smashed to the ground, unaffected by the stones

raining down around it. The noise jolted Josh free and he staggered back up

the steps just as the monster lumbered to its feet and shuffled forward,

heading straight for the house. The boy slammed the door closed and rammed

home the bolts. He was turning away when through the kitchen window he

spotted the figure in white, clutching what looked like a sword, step through

the gaping hole that had been the wall.

Josh grabbed the stone sword off the floor and dashed into the hall. Wake

up! he shouted, his voice so filled with terror even he didn't recognize it.

Sophie! Flamel! Anyone!

The door behind him shook in its frame. He snapped a quick glance over his

shoulder in time to see the monster s white tongue peel off the wood and

glass.

Help!

Glass shattered and the tongue shot into the kitchen, sweeping plates to the

floor, scattering pots and pans, knocking over a chair. Metal hissed where

the tongue brushed against it; wood turned black and burned; plastic melted.

A drop of the corrosive saliva dripped to the floor and bubbled on the tiles,

eating into the stone.

Instinctively, Josh lashed out at the tongue with Clarent. The sword barely

touched it, but it suddenly disappeared, darting back into the creature s

mouth. There was a single still moment, and then the monster rammed its

entire head at the door.

The door crumpled to matchwood; the supporting walls on either side cracked

as stones were knocked out. The creature drew its head back and slammed it

into the opening again, punching a large hole into the kitchen. The entire

house creaked ominously.

A hand fell on Josh s shoulder, almost stopping his heart. Now look what

you've done: you've just gone and made it mad.

Scathach strode into the wrecked kitchen and stood in the gaping hole created

by the creature s blows. Nidhogg, she said, and Josh was unsure whether she

was talking to him, which means the Disir are not far behind. She sounded

almost pleased with the news.

Scathach danced backward as Nidhogg s head slammed into the opening again.

Its huge nostrils opened wide and its white tongue slapped against the spot

where, an instant before, the Shadow had been standing. A glob of spittle

burned on the tile, turning it to a liquid sludge. Scathach s twin swords

darted out, flickering gray and silver, and two long cuts appeared on the

white flesh of the creature s forked tongue.

Without taking her eyes off the creature, Scathach said to Josh, almost

calmly, Get the others out of the house, I ll take care of this .

And then an enormous claw-tipped arm smashed through the window, wrapped

around the Warrior s body in a viselike grip and slammed her back against the

wall with enough force to crack the plaster. The Warrior s arms were trapped

against her body, her swords useless. Nighogg s huge head appeared in the

ruined side of the house, and then its mouth opened wide and its tongue

darted out toward Scathach. Once its sticky acid-coated tongue wrapped around

the defenseless Warrior, it would drag her into its cavernous maw.