The Magician

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

N iccol Machiavelli had always been a careful man.

He had survived and even thrived in the dangerous and deadly Medici court in

Florence in the fifteenth century, a time when intrigue was a way of life and

violent death and assassination was commonplace. His most famous book, The

Prince, was one of the first to suggest that the use of subterfuge, lies and

deceit was perfectly acceptable for a ruler.

Machiavelli was a survivor because he was subtle, cautious, clever and, above

all else: cunning.

So what had possessed him to call upon the Disir? The Valkyries had no word

for subtle in their language and didn't know the meaning of the word caution.

Their idea of clever and cunning was to bring Nidhogg an uncontrollable

primeval monster into the heart of a modern city.

And he had allowed them.

Now the street echoed with the sounds of breaking glass, snapping wood and

tumbling stone. Every car and house alarm in the district was blaring, and

there were lights on in all the other houses lining the alleyway, though no

one had ventured out yet.

What is going on in there? Machiavelli wondered aloud.

Nidhogg is feasting off Scathach? Dee suggested absently. His cell had

started to buzz, distracting him.

No, it s not! Machiavelli suddenly shouted. He pushed open the car door,

leapt out, grabbed Dee by the collar and dragged him out into the night.

Dagon! Out!

Dee attempted to find his feet, but Machiavelli continued to drag him

backward, away from the car. Are you out of your mind? the doctor shrieked.

There was a sudden explosion of glass as Dagon threw himself through the

windshield. He slithered off the hood and landed alongside Machiavelli and

Dee, but the Magician didn't even glance in his direction. He saw what had

startled the Italian.

Nidhogg raced down the narrow alley toward them, standing tall on two

powerful hind legs. A limp red-haired figure hung from its front claws.

Back! Machiavelli shouted, flinging himself to the ground, dragging Dee

with him.

Nidhogg trampled over the long black German car. One hind paw landed directly

in the center of the roof, crushing it to the pavement. Windows popped,

spraying glass like shrapnel as the car buckled in the middle, the front and

rear wheels lifting off the ground.

The creature disappeared into the night.

A heartbeat later, a white-clad Disir practically flew over the remains of

the car, clearing it in a single leap, following the creature.

Dagon? Machiavelli whispered, rolling over. Dagon, where are you?

I m here. The driver came smoothly to his feet, brushing shards of

sparkling glass from his black suit. He pulled off his cracked sunglasses and

dropped them on the ground. Rainbow colors ran across round unblinking eyes.

It was holding Scathach, he said, loosening his black tie and popping open

the top button of his white shirt.

Is she dead? Machiavelli asked.

I ll not believe Scathach is dead until I see it for myself.

Agreed. Over the years there have been too many reports of her death. And

then she turns up! We need a body.

Dee climbed out of a mud-filled puddle; he suspected Machiavelli might have

deliberately pushed him into it. He shook water from his shoe. If Nidhogg

has her, then the Shadow is dead. We ve succeeded.

Dagon s fish eye swiveled down to look into the Magician s face. You

blinkered, arrogant fool! Something in the house frightened away

Nidhogg that s why it s running, and it can t be the Shadow because it s got

her. And remember, this is a creature beyond fear. Three Disir went into that

building and only one came out! Something terrible happened in there.

Dagon is right: this is a disaster. We need to completely rethink our

strategy. Machiavelli turned to his driver. I promised you that if the

Disir failed, then Scathach was yours.

Dagon nodded. And you have always kept your word.

You have been with me now for close to four hundred years. You have always

been loyal, and I owe you both my life and liberty. I free you from my

service, Machiavelli said formally. Find the Shadow s body and if she is

still alive, then do whatever you must do. Go now and be safe, old friend.

Dagon turned away. Then he stopped suddenly and looked back at Machiavelli.

What did you call me?

Machiavelli smiled. Old friend. Be careful, he said gently. The Shadow is

beyond dangerous, and she s killed too many of my friends.

Dagon nodded. He pulled off his shoes and socks to reveal three-toed webbed

feet. Nidhogg will head for the comfort of the river. Abruptly, Dagon s

tooth-filled mouth opened in what might have been a smile. And the water is

my home. Then he ran into the night, bare feet slapping the sidewalk.

Machiavelli glanced back toward the house. Dagon was right; something had

terrified Nidhogg. What had happened in there? And where were the other two

Disir?

Footsteps clattered on pavement and suddenly Josh Newman raced out of the

alleyway, the stone sword in his hand streaming wisps of gold fire. Glancing

neither left nor right, he ran around the destroyed car and followed the

telltale trail of car alarms set off by the monster s passing.

Machiavelli looked at Dee. I take it that was the American boy?

Dee nodded.

Did you see what he was holding? It looked like a sword, he said slowly. A

stone sword? Surely not Excalibur?

Not Excalibur, Dee said shortly.

It was definitely a gray stone blade.

It wasn't Excalibur.

How do you know? Machiavelli demanded.

Dee reached under his coat and pulled out a short stone sword, a match of the

weapon Josh was carrying. The blade was trembling, vibrating almost

imperceptibly. Because I have Excalibur, Dee said. The boy was holding its

twin, Clarent. We always suspected Flamel had it.

Machiavelli closed his eyes and raised his face to the sky. Clarent. No

wonder Nidhogg fled from the house. He shook his head. Could this night get

any worse?

Dee s cell buzzed again and both men jumped. The Magician almost snapped the

phone in two opening it. What? he snarled. He listened for a moment, then

closed the phone very gently, and when he spoke again, his voice was barely

above a whisper. Perenelle has escaped. She s free on Alcatraz.

Shaking his head, Machiavelli turned and walked down the alleyway, heading

back toward the Champs-Elys es. His question was answered. The night had just

gotten worse much worse. Nicholas Flamel frightened Machiavelli, but

Perenelle terrified him.