The Magician

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

J osh finally caught up with the monster on the banks of the Seine.

He didn't know how far he d run, miles probably but he knew that he shouldn't

have been able to do it. He d sprinted the entire length of the last

street he d thought the street sign said Rue de Marignan without any effort,

and now, swinging left onto the Avenue Montaigne, he wasn't even breathless.

It was the sword.

He d felt it buzz and hum in his hands as he d run, heard it whisper and sigh

what sounded like vague promises. When he held it directly in front of him,

toward the monster, the whispers grew louder and it visibly trembled in his

hand. When he moved it away, they faded.

The sword was drawing him toward the creature.

Following the monster s trail of destruction down the narrow street, racing

past confused, shocked and horrified Parisians, Josh found strange and

disturbing thoughts flickering at the very edges of his consciousness:

he was in a world without land, swimming in an ocean vast enough to swallow

whole planets, filled with creatures that made the monster he was chasing

look tiny .

he was dangling high in the air, wrapped in thick roots that bit into his

flesh, looking down over a blasted, fiery wasteland .

he was lost and confused, in a place filled with small buildings and even

tinier creatures, and he was in pain, an incredible fire searing the base of

his spine .

he was

Nidhogg.

The name snapped into his consciousness, and the shock that he was somehow

experiencing the monster s thoughts almost stopped him in his tracks. He knew

the phenomenon had to be connected to the sword. Earlier, when the creature s

tongue had touched the blade, he d glimpsed a snapshot of an alien world,

shocking images of a bizarre landscape, and now, having stabbed the creature

again, he caught hints of a life completely beyond his experience.

It dawned on him that he was seeing what the creature Nidhogg had seen at

some time in the past. He was experiencing what it was feeling now.

It had to be connected to the sword.

And if this was Excalibur s twin, Josh suddenly wondered, then did that

ancient weapon also transfer feelings, emotions, and impressions when it was

used? What had Dee felt when he had plunged Excalibur into the ancient

Yggdrasill? What sights had he seen, what had he experienced and learned?

Josh found himself wondering if that was the real reason Dee had destroyed

the Yggdrasill: had he killed it to experience the incredible knowledge it

contained?

Josh glanced quickly at the stone sword and a shudder ran through him. A

weapon like this gave the wielder unimaginable powers and what a frightening

temptation it was. Surely the urge to use it again and again to gain more and

more knowledge would become uncontrollable? It was a terrifying thought.

But why had the Alchemyst given it to him?

The answer came immediately: because Flamel didn't know! The sword was a dead

lump of stone until it stabbed or cut something only then did it come alive.

Josh nodded to himself; now he knew why Saint-Germain, Joan and Scatty would

not touch the weapon.

As he raced down the street toward the river, he wondered what would happen

if he managed to kill Nidhogg with Clarent. What would he feel, what would he

experience?

What would he know?

Nidhogg burst through a stand of trees and darted across the road and down

onto the Port des Champs-Elys es. It stopped in the parking lot on the

quayside almost directly in front of Dee and Machiavelli and dropped onto all

fours, huge head swaying from side to side, tongue lolling out of its mouth.

It was so close they could see Scatty s limp body caught in its claws and the

Disir astride its neck. Nidhogg s tail lashed, buffeting parked cars and

smashing into a long tour bus, staving in the engine. A tire popped with a

deep boom.

I think we should get out of the car , Dee began, reaching for the door,

eyes fixed on the swinging tail as it flipped a heavy BMW onto its roof.

Machiavelli s arm shot out, fingers closing on the Magician s arm in a

painful viselike grip. Do not even think about moving. Do nothing that will

attract its attention.

But the tail

It s in pain, that s why the tail is thrashing about. But it seems to be

slowing down.

Dee turned his head slightly. Machiavelli was correct: there was something

wrong with Nidhogg s tail. About one-third of its total length had turned

black it looked almost stonelike. Even as Dee watched, tendrils and veins of

bubbling black liquid crept over the creature s hard flesh, slowly encasing

it in a solid crust. Dr. John Dee immediately knew what had happened.

The boy stabbed it with Clarent, he said, not even turning his head to look

at Machiavelli. That s what caused the reaction.

I thought you said Clarent was the Sword of Fire, not the Sword of Stone.

There are many different forms of fire, Dee said. Who knows how the

blade s energy reacted with something like Nidhogg? He stared at the tail,

watching as more of the thick black crust grew on the skin. As it hardened,

he caught a brief glimpse of red fire. Lava crust, he said, voice hushed in

wonder. It s lava crust. The fire is burning within the creature s skin.

No wonder it s in pain, Machiavelli muttered.

You sound almost sorry for it, Dee snapped.

I never traded my humanity for my long life, Doctor. I ve always remembered

my roots. His voice hardened, turned contemptuous. You worked so hard to be

like your Elder master that you've forgotten what it is like to feel human to

be human. And we humans he stressed the last word have the capacity to feel

another creature s pain. It is what lifted humani above the Elders, it is

what made them great.

And it s the weakness that will ultimately destroy them, Dee said simply.

Let me remind you that this creature is not human. It could crush you

underfoot and not even notice. However, let us not argue now; not when we re

about to be victorious. The boy might have solved our problem for us, Dee

said. Nidhogg is slowly turning to stone. He laughed delightedly. If it

jumps into the river now, the weight of its tail will drag it to the

bottom and take Scathach with it. He looked slyly at Machiavelli. I take it

your humanity does not extend to feeling sorry for the Shadow.

Machiavelli grimaced. Knowing Scathach is lying at the bottom of the Seine

wrapped in the creature s claws would make me very happy indeed.

The two immortals sat unmoving in the car, watching as the creature lurched

forward, moving more slowly now, the weight of its tail dragging behind it.

All that stood between it and the water was one of the glass-enclosed

boats the bateaux-mouches that took tourists up and down the river.

Dee nodded toward the boat. Once it climbs onto that, the boat will sink,

and Nidhogg and Scathach will disappear into the Seine forever.

And what about the Disir?

I m sure she can swim.

Machiavelli allowed himself a wry smile. So all we re waiting for now

is for it to reach the boat, Dee finished, just as Josh appeared through

the gaping hole in the tree-lined quayside and darted across the parking lot.

As Josh raced up to the creature, the sword in his right hand began to burn,

long streamers of orange fire curling off the blade. His aura started to

crackle a matching golden color, suffusing the air with the smell of oranges.

Abruptly, the Disir slid off the monster s back, flickering back into her

white chain mail in the instant before her feet touched the ground. She

rounded on Josh, her features locked into an ugly, savage mask. You are

becoming a nuisance, boy, she snarled in barely comprehensible English.

Lifting her great broadsword in both hands, she threw herself toward Josh.

This will just take a moment.