The Magician

CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR

N iccol Machiavelli took a tentative step forward and looked down over the

city of Paris. He was standing on the roof of the great Gothic cathedral of

Notre Dame; below was the river Seine and the Pont au Double, and directly

spread out before him was the broad parvis, the square. Holding tightly to

the ornate brickwork, he drew in a deep shuddering breath and willed his

thumping heart to slow. He had just climbed one thousand and one steps up out

of the catacombs onto the roof of the cathedral, following a secret route Dee

claimed he d used before. His legs were trembling with the effort and his

knees ached. Machiavelli liked to think that he kept himself in good

condition he was a strict vegetarian and exercised every day but the climb

had exhausted him. He was also vaguely irritated that the strenuous climb

hadn't affected Dee in the slightest. When did you say you were last up

here? he asked.

I didn't say, the Magician snapped. He was standing to Machiavelli s left,

in the shadow of the south tower. But if you must know, it was in 1575. He

pointed off to one side. I met the Morrigan right there. It was on this roof

that I first learned of the true nature of Nicholas Flamel and the existence

of the Book of Abraham. So perhaps it is fitting that it ends here too.

Machiavelli leaned out and looked down. He was standing almost directly above

the west rose window. The square below him should have been thronged with

tourists, but it was eerily deserted. And how do you know Flamel and the

others will come out here? he asked.

Dee s small teeth flashed in an ugly grin. We know the boy is

claustrophobic. His senses have just been Awakened. When he comes out of

whatever trance Mars left him in, he s going to be terrified, and his

heightened senses will only add to that terror. For the sake of his sanity,

Flamel will have to get him above ground as quickly as possible. I know that

there is a secret passage leading from the buried Roman city into the

cathedral. He suddenly pointed down as five figures stumbled out of the

central door directly below them. You see? he said triumphantly. I m never

wrong. He looked at Machiavelli. You know what we have to do?

The Italian nodded. I know.

You don't look too happy about it.

Defacing a beautiful building is a crime.

But killing people is not? Dee asked.

Well, people can always be replaced.

Let me just sit, Josh gasped. Without waiting for a response, he crumpled

out of his sister s and Saint-Germain s hands and sat down on a smooth

circular stone set into the cobbled square. Bringing his knees up to his

chest, he rested his chin on his kneecaps and wrapped his arms around his

shins. He was shaking so hard that his heels were tapping off the stone.

We really need to keep moving, Flamel said urgently, looking around.

Give us a minute, Sophie snapped. Kneeling beside her brother, she reached

out to touch him, but a spark cracked between her fingertips and his arm and

they both jumped. I know what you re feeling, she said gently. Everything

is so so bright, so loud, so sharp. Your clothes feel so heavy and rough

against your skin, your shoes are too tight. But you do get used to it. The

feelings do go away. He was undergoing what she d experienced only a couple

of days ago.

My head is throbbing, Josh mumbled. It feels like it s about to explode,

like it s crammed with too much information. I keep thinking these strange

thoughts .

The girl frowned. That didn't sound right. When she d been Awakened, her

senses had been overwhelmed, but it was only when the Witch of Endor had

poured knowledge into her that she d felt as if her brain were about to

burst. A sudden thought struck her, and she remembered that when she d raced

into the chamber, she d seen the Elder s huge hand pressing on her brother s

head. Josh, she said quietly. When Mars Awakened you, what did he say?

Her brother shook his head miserably. I don't know.

Think, she said sharply, and saw him wince at the sound of her voice.

Please, Josh, she said quietly. This is important.

You re not the boss of me, he muttered with a trace of a smile.

I know. She grinned. But I m still your big sister now tell me!

Josh frowned, but the effort hurt his forehead. He said he said that the

Awakening wasn't a gift, that it was something I would have to pay for

later.

What else?

He said he said that mine was one of the most powerful auras he d ever

encountered. Josh had been looking at the god as he d spoken the words,

seeing him for the first time with Awakened eyes, noticing the intricate

detail on his helm and the ornate design on his leather breastplate and

hearing clearly the pain in his voice. He said he was going to give me a

gift, something I might find useful in the days to come.

And?

I have no idea what that was. When he put his hand on my head, I felt as if

he was trying to push me through the floor. The pressure was incredible.

He s passed something to you, Sophie said, worried. Nicholas, she called.

But there was no response, and when she turned to look for the Alchemyst she

found him, Saint-Germain and Joan staring back at the great cathedral.

Sophie, Nicholas said calmly, without turning around, help your brother to

his feet. We need to get out of here right now. Before it s too late.

His calm, reasoned tone frightened her more than if he had shouted. Catching

her brother under both arms, ignoring the rattling snap of their auras, she

hauled him upright and turned around. Facing them were three squat mismatched

monsters.

I think it s already too late, she said.

Over the centuries, Dr. John Dee had learned how to animate Golems and had

also managed to create and control simulacra and homunculi. One of the

earliest skills Machiavelli had mastered was the ability to control a tulpa.

The process was surprisingly similar; all that really differed were the

materials.

They could both bring the inanimate to life.

Now the Magician and the Italian stood side by side on the roof of Notre Dame

and focused their wills.

And one by one, the gargoyles and grotesques of Notre Dame came to creaking

life.

The gargoyles the water spouts moved first.

Singly and in pairs, then in dozens and suddenly in hundreds, they broke free

of the cathedral walls. Crawling out from the hidden places the unseen eaves,

the forgotten gutters stone dragons and serpents, goats and monkeys, cats,

dogs and monsters slithered down the front of the building.

Then the grotesques the hideous carved statues came to lumbering life. Lions,

tigers, apes and bears tore themselves free from the medieval stonework and

clambered down the building.

This is really very, very bad, Saint-Germain muttered.

A crudely carved lion dropped to the ground directly in front of the

cathedral door and padded forward, stone claws clicking and sliding on the

smooth cobbles.

Saint-Germain threw out his hand and the lion was engulfed in a ball of

fire which had no effect on it, other than to burn off centuries of dirt and

bird droppings. The lion kept coming. Saint-Germain tried different types of

fire darts and sheets of flame, fire balls and whips but to no avail.

More and more of the gargoyles dropped to the ground. A few shattered on

impact, but most survived. They spread out, filling the square, and then they

started to close in, tightening the noose. Some of the creatures were

intricately and beautifully carved; others had been weathered to little more

than anonymous lumps. The bigger gargoyles lumbered slowly while the smaller

grotesques darted about. But they all moved in absolute silence, save for the

grinding scrape of stone on stone.

A creature that was half man, half goat shuffled out of the approaching

crowd, dropped to all fours and trotted forward, wickedly curved stone horns

slashing at Saint-Germain. Joan jumped forward and chopped at the creature,

her sword striking sparks off its neck. The blow didn't even slow it down.

Saint-Germain managed to throw himself to one side at the last minute, then

made the mistake of slapping the beast on the rump as it went past. His hand

stung. The goat-man tried to stop on the cobbles and slipped, crashing to the

ground and cracking off one of his horns.

Nicholas drew Clarent and spun around, holding the sword in both hands,

wondering which creature would attack first. A bear with the head of a woman

lumbered forward, claws extended. Nicholas jabbed with Clarent, but the sword

screamed harmlessly off the creature s stone hide. He quickly cut at the

beast with the edge of the sword, but the vibration numbed his entire arm,

almost knocking the sword from his grip. The bear swiped a massive paw that

whispered over the Alchemyst s head. It teetered off balance, and Nicholas

rushed forward to throw his weight against it. The bear crashed to the

ground. Its claws beat against the cobblestones, shattering them to dust as

it attempted to regain its feet.

Standing before her brother, desperately trying to shield him, Sophie loosed

a series of small whirlwinds. They bounced harmlessly off most of the stones

and did nothing more than send a newspaper spiraling high into the sky.

Nicholas, Saint-Germain said desperately as the circle of stone creatures

drew even closer. A little magic, some alchemy, would be good now.

Nicholas held out his right hand. A tiny sphere of green glass formed in it.

Then it cracked and the liquid contents flowed back into his skin. I m not

strong enough, the Alchemyst answered sadly. The transmutation spell in the

catacombs exhausted me.

The gargoyles shuffled closer, stone grinding, cracking with every step.

Small grotesques were pulverized to dust if they were caught under the bigger

creatures feet.

They ll just roll right over us, Saint-Germain muttered.

Dee must be controlling them, Josh mumbled. He slumped against his sister,

hands pressed against his ears. Every grinding footstep, every crack of

stone, was agony to his Awakened hearing.

There s too many here for just one man, Joan said. It has to be Dee and

Machiavelli.

But they must be close by, Nicholas said.

Very close, Joan agreed.

A commander always takes the high ground, Josh said suddenly, surprising

himself with the knowledge.

Which means they re on the roof of the cathedral, Flamel concluded.

Then Joan pointed. I see them. There, between the towers, directly above the

center of the West Rose Window. She tossed her sword to her husband, and

then her aura flowed silver around her body and the air filled with the scent

of lavender. Her aura hardened, taking on shape and substance, and suddenly a

longbow grew out of her left hand while a shining arrow appeared in her

right. Drawing back her right arm, she sighted and loosed the arrow, sending

it arcing high into the air.

They ve spotted us, Machiavelli said. Huge beads of sweat rolled down his

face, and his lips were blue with the effort of controlling the stone

creatures.

It is no matter, Dee said, peering over the edge. They are powerless. In

the square below, the five humans were standing in a circle as the crushing

stone statues closed in.

Then let us finish it, Machiavelli said through gritted teeth. But

remember, we need the children alive. He broke off as something slender and

silver arced through the air before his face. It s an arrow, he began in

wonder, and then stopped and grunted as the arrow plunged deep into his

thigh. His entire leg from hip to toe went dead. He staggered back and fell

onto the cathedral roof, hands pressed against his leg. Surprisingly, there

was no blood, but the pain was excruciating.

On the ground far below, at least half the creatures suddenly froze or

toppled over. They crashed to the ground, and those behind tumbled over them.

Rock shattered, weathered stone exploding to dust. But still the rest of the

creatures pressed on, closing in.

Another dozen silver arrows arced up from below. They pinged and shattered

harmlessly against the brickwork.

Machiavelli! Dee howled.

I can t The pain in his leg was indescribable, and tears rolled down his

cheeks. I can t concentrate .

Then I ll finish it myself.

The boy and girl, Machiavelli said weakly. We need them alive .

Not necessarily. I am a necromancer. I can reanimate their corpses.

No! Machiavelli screamed.

Dee ignored him. Focusing his extraordinary will, the Magician issued the

gargoyles a single command. Kill them. Kill them all.

The creatures surged forward.

Again, Joan! Flamel shouted. Fire again!

I cannot. The tiny Frenchwoman was gray with exhaustion. The arrows are

shaped from my aura. I have nothing left.

The gargoyles pressed in, closer and closer, stone grinding and scraping as

they shuffled on. Their range of movement was limited; some had claws and

teeth, others horns or barbed tails, but they would simply crush the humans.

Josh picked up a small round grotesque that was so weathered it was little

more than a squat lump of stone and heaved it back into the mass of

creatures. It struck a gargoyle, and both shattered. He winced with the

sound, but he also realized that they could be destroyed. Pressing his hands

against his ears, he squinted at the broken creature, his Awakened sight

taking in every detail. The stone creatures were invulnerable to steel and

magic but then he noted that the stone was weathered and fragile. What

destroyed stone?

There was a flash of memory except it wasn't his memory of an ancient city,

walls crumbling, pulverized to dust

I ve got an idea, he shouted.

Make it a good one, Saint-Germain called. Is it magic?

It s basic chemistry. Josh looked at Saint-Germain. Francis, how hot can

you make your fire?

Very hot.

Sophie, how cold a wind can you create?

Very cold, she said, nodding. She suddenly knew what her brother was

suggesting: she d done the same experiment in chemistry class.

Do it now, Josh shouted.

A carved dragon with a chipped bat s wing lurched forward. Saint-Germain

unleashed the full force of his Fire magic against the creature s head,

bathing it in flame, baking it cherry red. And then Sophie let loose a puff

of arctic air.

The dragon s head cracked and exploded into dust.

Hot and cold, Josh shouted, hot and cold.

Expansion and contraction, Nicholas said with a shaky laugh. He looked up

to where Dee s head was just visible over the edge of the roof. One of the

basic principles of alchemy.

Saint-Germain bathed a boar galloping toward them in scalding heat, and

Sophie washed icy air over it. Its legs snapped off.

Hotter! Josh shouted. It needs to be hotter. And yours need to be colder,

he said to his sister.

I ll try, she whispered. Her eyes were already leaden with exhaustion. I

don't know how much more I can do. She looked at her brother. Help me, she

said. Let me draw on your strength.

Josh stood behind Sophie and placed both hands on her shoulders. Silver and

gold auras sparked alight, mixing, entwining. Realizing what they were doing,

Joan immediately gripped her husband s shoulders and both their auras red and

silver crackled around them. When Saint-Germain shot a plume of fire over the

approaching gargoyles, it was white-hot, strong enough to start melting the

stones even before subarctic freezing winds and icy fog rolled from Sophie s

hands. Saint-Germain turned in a slow circle, and Sophie followed him. First

stone cracked, ancient brick exploded, and rock melted beneath the intense

heat, but when the icy winds followed, the effect was dramatic. The hot stone

statues exploded and split apart, shattering into gritty, stinging dust. The

first row fell, and then the next and the next, until a wall of shattered and

cracked stone built up in a circle around the trapped humans.

And when Saint-Germain and Joan slumped, Sophie and Josh continued, blasting

icy air over the few remaining creatures. Because the gargoyles had spent

centuries as water spouts, the stone was soft and porous. Using her brother s

energy to boost her powers, Sophie froze the moisture trapped within the

stone and the creatures shattered.

The two that are one, Nicholas Flamel whispered, crouching exhausted on the

cobblestones. He looked at Sophie and Josh, their auras blazing wildly about

them, silver and gold intermixed, traces of ancient armor visible against

their skin. Their power was incredible and seemingly inexhaustible. He knew

that power like this could control, reshape or even destroy the world.

And as the last monstrous gargoyle exploded to dust and the twins auras

faded away, the Alchemyst found himself wondering for the first time if

Awakening them had been the correct decision.

On top of Notre Dame, Dee and Machiavelli watched as Flamel and the others

picked their way through the smoking piles of masonry, heading in the

direction of the bridge.

We are in so much trouble, Machiavelli said through gritted teeth. The

arrow had disappeared from his thigh, but his leg was still numb.

We? Dee said lightly. This, all this, is entirely your fault, Niccol . Or

at least, that s what my report will say. And you know what will happen then,

don't you?

Machiavelli straightened and stood, leaning against the stonework, favoring

his injured leg. My report will differ.

No one will believe you, Dee said confidently, turning away. Everyone

knows you are the master of lies.

Machiavelli reached into his pocket and pulled out a small digital tape

recorder. Well then, it s lucky I have everything you said on tape. He

tapped the recorder. Voice activated. It recorded every word you spoke to

me.

Dee stopped. He slowly turned to face the Italian and looked at the slender

tape recorder. Every word? he asked.

Every word. Machiavelli said grimly. I think the Elders will believe my

report.

Dee stared at the Italian for a heartbeat before nodding. What do you want?

Machiavelli nodded at the devastation below. His smile was terrifying. Look

at what the twins can do and they re barely Awakened, and not even fully

trained.

What are you suggesting? Dee asked.

Between us, you and I have access to extraordinary resources. Working

together rather than against one another we should be able to find the twins,

capture them and train them.

Train them!

Machiavelli s eyes started to glitter. They are the twins of legend. The

two that are one, the one that is all. Once they ve mastered all the

elemental magics, they will be unstoppable. His smile turned feral. Whoever

controls them controls the world.

The Magician turned to squint across the square to where Flamel was just

visible through the pall of dust and grit. You think the Alchemyst knows

this?

Machiavelli s laugh was bitter. Of course he knows. Why else do you think

he's training them!

MONDAY,

4th June