The Magician

CHAPTER THREE

W hat? Josh demanded, looking around. The smell was stronger now, stale and

bitter, and almost familiar .

Snake, Sophie said, breathing deeply. It' s a snake.

Josh felt his stomach lurch. Snake. Why did it have to be snakes? He was

terrified of snakes though he d never admit it to anyone, especially not his

sister. Snakes , he began, but his voice sounded high-pitched and

strangled. He coughed and tried again. Where? he asked, looking around

desperately, imagining them everywhere, sliding out from under the pews,

curling down the pillars, dropping down from the light fixtures.

Sophie shook her head and frowned. I don't hear any . I'm just smelling

them. Her nostrils flared as she drew a deep breath. No, there' s just

one .

Oh, you re smelling a snake, all right but one that walks on two legs,

Scatty snapped. You re smelling the rank odor of Niccol Machiavelli.

Flamel knelt on the floor in front of the massive main doors and ran his

hands over the locks. Wisps of green smoke curled from his fingers.

Machiavelli! he spat. Dee didn't waste any time contacting his allies, I

see.

You can tell who it is from the smell? Josh asked, still surprised and a

little confused.

Every person has a distinctive magical odor, Scatty explained, standing

with her back to the Alchemyst, protecting him. You two smell of vanilla ice

cream and oranges, Nicholas smells of mint

And Dee smelled of rotten eggs , Sophie added.

Sulfur, Josh said.

Which was once known as brimstone, Scatty said. Very appropriate for Dr.

Dee. Her head was moving from side to side as she paid particular attention

to the deep shadows behind the statues. Well, Machiavelli smells of snakes.

Appropriate too.

Who is he? Josh asked. He felt as if he should know the name, almost as if

he d heard it before. A friends of Dee' s?

Machiavelli is an immortal allied to the Dark Elders, Scatty explained,

and no friend to Dee, though they are on the same side. Machiavelli is older

than the Magician, infinitely more dangerous and certainly more cunning. I

should have killed him when I had the chance, she said bitterly. For the

past five hundred years he has been at the heart of European politics, the

puppet master working in the shadows. The last I heard, he had been appointed

the head of the DGSE, the Direction Generale de la Securite Exterieure.

Is that like a bank? Josh asked.

Scatty's lips curled in a tiny smile that exposed her overlong vampire

incisors. It means the General Board of External Security. It is the French

secret service.

The secret service! Oh, that s just great, Josh said sarcastically.

The smell is getting stronger, Sophie said, her Awakened senses acutely

aware of the odor. Concentrating hard, she allowed a little of her power to

trickle into her aura, which bloomed into a ghostly shadow around her.

Crackles of lustrous silver threads sparkled in her blond hair, and her eyes

turned to reflective silver coins.

Almost unconsciously, Josh stepped away from his sister. He d seen her like

this before, and she' d scared him.

That means he' s close by. He s working some magic, Scatty said.

Nicholas ?

I just need another minute. Flamel s fingertips glowed emerald green,

smoking as they traced a pattern around the lock. A solid click sounded from

within, but when the Alchemyst tried the handle, the door didn't move. Maybe

more than a minute.

Too late, Josh whispered, raising an arm and pointing. Something s here.

At the opposite end of the great basilica, the banks of candles had gone out.

It was as if an unfelt breeze was sweeping down the aisles, snuffing out the

flickering circular night-lights and thicker candles as it passed, leaving

curls of gray-white smoke hanging on the air. Abruptly, the smell of candle

wax grew stronger, much, much stronger, almost obliterating the odor of

serpent.

I can' t see anything , Josh began.

It' s here! Sophie shouted.

The creature that flowed up off the cold flagstones was only marginally

human. Standing taller than a man, broad and grotesque, it was a gelatinous

white shape with only the vaguest hint of a head set directly onto broad

shoulders. There were no visible features. As they watched, two huge arms

separated from the trunk of the body with a squelch and grew handlike shapes.

Golem! Sophie shouted in horror. A wax Golem! She flung out her hand and

her aura blazed. Ice-cold wind surged from her fingertips to batter the

creature, but the white waxy skin simply rippled and flowed beneath the

breeze.

Protect Nicholas! Scathach commanded, darting forward, her matched swords

flickering out, biting into the creature, but without any effect. The soft

wax trapped her swords, and it took all her strength to pull them free. She

struck again and chips of wax sprayed into the air. The creature struck at

her, and she had to abandon her grip on her swords as she danced backward to

avoid the crushing blow. A bulbous fist thundered into the floor at her feet,

spattering globules of white wax in every direction.

Josh grabbed one of the folding wooden chairs stacked outside the gift shop

at the back of the church. Holding it by two legs, he slammed it into the

creature s chest where it stuck fast. As the wax shape turned toward Josh,

the chair was wrenched from his hands. He grabbed another chair, darted

around behind the creature and slammed the chair down. It shattered across

the creature' s shoulders, leaving scores of splinters protruding like bizarre

porcupine spines.

Sophie froze. She desperately tried to recall some of the secrets of Air

magic that the Witch of Endor had taught her only a few hours ago. The Witch

said it was the most powerful of all magics and Sophie had seen what it had

done to the undead army of long-deceased humans and beasts Dee had raised in

Ojai. But she had no idea what would work against the wax monster before her.

She knew how to raise a miniature tornado, but she couldn't risk calling it

up in the confined space of the basilica.

Nicholas! Scatty called. With her swords stuck in the creature, the Warrior

was using her nunchaku two lengths of wood attached by a short chain to

batter at the Golem. They left deep indentations in its skin but otherwise

seemed to have no effect. She delivered one particularly fierce blow that

embedded the polished wood in the creature s side. Wax flowed around the

nunchaku, trapping them. When the creature twisted toward Josh, the weapon

was ripped from the Warrior s hands, sending her spinning across the room.

A hand that was only thumb and fused fingers, like a giant mitten, caught

Josh' s shoulder and squeezed. The pain was incredible and drove the boy to

his knees.

Josh! Sophie screamed, the sound echoing in the huge church.

Josh tried to pull the hand away, but the wax was too slippery and his

fingers sank into the white goo. Warm wax began to flow off the creature s

hand, then curl and wrap around his shoulder and roll down onto his chest,

constricting his breathing.

Josh, duck!

Sophie grabbed a wooden chair and swung it through the air. It whistled over

her brother s head, the wind ruffling his hair, and she brought it down

hard edge-first on the thick wax arm where the elbow should have been. The

chair stuck halfway through, but the movement distracted the creature and it

abandoned Josh, leaving him bruised and coated in a layer of candle wax. From

his place kneeling on the ground, Josh watched in horror as two gelatinous

hands reached for his twin s throat.

Terrified, Sophie screamed.

Josh watched as his sister s eyes flickered, the blue replaced with silver,

and then her aura blazed incandescent the moment the Golem s paws came close

to her skin. Immediately, its waxy hands began to run liquid and spatter to

the floor. Sophie stretched out her own hand, fingers splayed, and pressed it

against the Golem' s chest, where it sank, sizzling and hissing, into the mass

of wax.

Josh crouched on the ground, close to Flamel, his hands thrown up to protect

his eyes from the brilliant silver light. He saw his sister step closer to

the creature, her aura now painfully bright, arms spread wide, an invisible

unfelt heat melting the creature, reducing the wax to liquid. Scathach s

swords and nunchaku clattered to the stone floor, followed, seconds later, by

the remains of the wooden chair.

Sophie' s aura flickered and Josh was on his feet and by her side to catch her

as she swayed. I feel dizzy, she said thickly as she slumped into his arms.

She was barely conscious, and she felt ice cold, the usually sweet vanilla

scent of her aura now sour and bitter.

Scatty swooped in to gather up her weapons from the pile of semiliquid wax

that now resembled a half-melted snowman. She fastidiously wiped her blades

clean before she slipped them back into the sheaths she wore on her back.

Picking curls of white wax off her nunchaku, she slipped them back into their

holster on her belt; then she turned to Sophie. You saved us, she said

gravely. That' s a debt I' ll not forget.

Got it, Flamel said suddenly. He stood back, and Sophie, Josh and Scathach

watched as curls of green smoke seeped from the lock. The Alchemyst pushed

the door and it clicked open, cool night air rushing in, dispelling the

cloying odor of melted wax.

We could have done with a little help, you know, Scatty grumbled.

Flamel grinned and wiped his fingers on his jeans, leaving traces of green

light on the cloth. I knew you had it well under control, he said, stepping

out of the basilica. Scathach and the twins followed.

The sounds of police sirens were louder now, but the area directly in front

of the church was empty. Sacre -Coeur was set on a hill, one of the highest

points in Paris, and from where they stood, they had a view of the entire

city. Nicholas Flamel s face lit up with delight. Home!

What is it with European magicians and Golems? Scatty asked, following him.

First Dee and now Machiavelli. Have they no imaginations?

Flamel looked surprised. That wasn't a Golem. Golems need to have a spell on

their body to animate them.

Scatty nodded. She knew that, of course. What, then ?

That was a tulpa.

Scatty s bright green eyes widened in surprise. A tulpa! Is Machiavelli that

powerful, then?

Obviously.

What' s a tulpa? Josh asked Flamel, but it was his sister who answered, and

Josh was once again reminded of the huge gulf that had opened up between them

the moment her powers had been Awakened.

A creature created and animated entirely by the power of the imagination,

Sophie explained casually.

Precisely, Nicholas Flamel said, breathing deeply. Machiavelli knew there

would be wax in the church. So he brought it to life.

But surely he knew it would not be able to stop us? Scatty asked.

Nicholas walked out from under the central arch that framed the front of the

basilica and stood at the edge of the first of the two hundred and twenty-one

steps that led down to the street far below. Oh, he knew it wouldn't stop

us, he said patiently. He just wanted to slow us down, to keep us here

until he arrived. He pointed.

Far below, the narrow streets of Montmartre had come alive with the sounds

and lights of a fleet of French police cars. Dozens of uniformed gendarmes

had gathered at the bottom of the steps, with more arriving from the narrow

side streets to form a cordon around the building. Surprisingly, none of them

had started climbing.

Flamel, Scatty and the twins ignored the police. They were watching the tall

thin white-haired man in the elegant tuxedo slowly make his way up the steps

toward them. He stopped when he saw them emerge from the basilica, leaned on

a low metal railing and raised his right hand in a lazy salute.

Let me guess, Josh said, that must be Niccol Machiavelli.

The most dangerous immortal in Europe, the Alchemyst said grimly. Trust

me: this man makes Dee look like an amateur.