are loyal to us.
And the other two?
Catherine de Medici is living off the Rue du Dragon.
She s not French, Dagon mumbled stickily.
Well, she was the mother of three French kings, Machiavelli said with a
rare smile. But she is loyal only to herself . His voice trailed away and
he straightened. But what do we have here?
Dagon remained unmoving.
Niccol Machiavelli swiveled the computer screen so that his servant could
see the photograph of a man staring directly at the camera in what was
obviously a posed publicity shot. Thick curling black hair tumbled to his
shoulders, framing a round face. His eyes were startlingly blue.
I do not know this man, Dagon said.
Oh, but I do. I know him very well. This is the immortal human once known as
the Comte de Saint-Germain. He was a magician, an inventor, a musician and an
alchemist. Machiavelli closed the program and shut down the computer.
Saint-Germain was also the student of Nicholas Flamel. And he s currently
living in Paris, he finished triumphantly.
Dagon smiled, his mouth a perfect O filled with razor teeth. Does Flamel
know that Saint-Germain is here?
I have no idea. No one knows the extent of Nicholas Flamel s knowledge.
Dagon pushed his sunglasses back in place. And I thought you knew
everything.
CHAPTER EIGHT
W e need to rest, Josh said finally. I can t go any farther. He stopped
and leaned against a building, bent over and wheezing. Every breath was an
effort, and he was beginning to see black spots dancing in front of his eyes.
Any moment now he was going to throw up. He felt this way sometimes after
football practice, and he knew from experience that he needed to sit and get
some liquids into his system.
He s right. Scatty turned to Flamel. We need to rest, even if only
briefly. She was still carrying Sophie in her arms, and with gray glimmers of
light illuminating the Parisian rooftops toward the east, the first of the
early-morning workers had begun to appear. The fugitives had kept to the dark
side streets, and so far no one had paid any attention to the strange group,
but that would quickly change as the street filled first with Parisians, then
with tourists.
Nicholas stood outlined at the mouth of the narrow street. He glanced up and
down before turning to look over his shoulder. We have to push on, he
protested. Every second we delay brings Machiavelli closer to us.
We can t, Scatty said. She looked at Flamel, and for a single instant, her
bright green eyes glowed. The twins need to rest, she said, and then added
softly, And so do you, Nicholas. You re exhausted.
The Alchemyst considered her and then he nodded and his shoulders slumped.
You re right, of course. I ll do as you say.
Maybe we could check into a hotel? Josh suggested. He was achingly tired,
his eyes and throat gritty, head throbbing.
Scatty shook her head. They would ask for our passports . Sophie stirred in
her arms, and Scathach gently eased her to the ground and leaned her up
against the wall.
Josh was immediately by her side. You re awake, he said, relief in his
voice.
I wasn't really asleep, Sophie answered, her tongue feeling too big for her
mouth. I knew what was going on, but it was as if I was looking at it from
the outside. Like watching something on TV. She pressed her hands into the
small of her back and pushed hard as she rotated her neck. Ouch. That hurt.
What hurts? Josh asked immediately.
Everything. She attempted to straighten, but aching muscles protested and a
sick headache pulsed behind her eyes.
Is there anyone here you can call for help? Josh looked from Nicholas to
Scathach. Are there any more immortals or Elders?
There are immortals and Elders everywhere, Scatty said. Few are as
friendly as we are, though, she added with a humorless smile.
There will be immortals in Paris, Flamel agreed slowly, but I've no idea
where to find one, and even if I did, I would have no idea where their
allegiances lay. Perenelle would know, he added, a hint of sadness in his
voice.
Would your grandmother know? Josh asked Scatty.
The Warrior glanced at him. I m sure she would. She turned to look at
Sophie. Amongst all of your new memories, can you recall anything about
immortals or Elders living in Paris?
Sophie closed her eyes and tried to concentrate, but the scenes and images
that flashed by fire raining from a bloodred sky, a huge flat-topped pyramid
about to be overwhelmed by a gigantic wave were chaotic and terrifying. She
started to shake her head, then stopped. Even the simplest of movements hurt.
I can t think, she sighed. My head is so full, it feels like it s going to
burst.
The Witch might know, Flamel said, but we have no way of getting in touch
with her. She has no phone.
What about her neighbors, friends? Josh asked. He turned back to his
sister. I know you don't want to think about this, but you have to. It s
important.
I can t think , Sophie began, looking away and shaking her head.
don't think. Just answer, Josh snapped. He took a quick breath and lowered
his voice, speaking slowly. Sis, who is the Witch of Endor s closest friend
in Ojai?
Sophie s bright blue eyes closed again and she swayed as if she was about to
faint. When her eyes opened, she shook her head. She has no friends there.
But everyone knows her. Maybe we could call the store next to hers , she
suggested. Then she shook her head. It s too late there.
Flamel nodded. Sophie s right; it ll be closed at this time of night.
It ll be closed, all right, Josh agreed, a touch of excitement entering his
voice, but when we left Ojai, the place was in chaos. And don't forget, I
drove a Hummer into the fountain in Libbey Park; that had to have caught
someone s attention. I ll bet the police and the press are there right now.
And the press might answer some questions if we ask the right ones. I mean,
if the Witch s shop was damaged they re sure to be looking for a story.
It might work , Flamel began. I just need to know the name of the
newspaper.
Ojai Valley News, 646-1476, Sophie said immediately. I remember that
much or the Witch does, she added, and then shuddered. There were so many
memories in her head, so many thoughts and ideas and not just the terrifying
and fantastic images of people and places that should never have existed, but
also ordinary mundane thoughts: phone numbers and recipes, names and
addresses of people she d never heard of, pictures from old TV shows, posters
from movies. She even knew the name of every single Elvis Presley song.
But all of these were the Witch s memories. And right now, she had to
struggle to remember her own cell phone number. What would happen if the
Witch s memories grew so strong that they overwhelmed her own? She tried to
focus on the faces of her parents, Richard and Sara. Hundreds of faces
flickered past, images of figures carved in stone, the heads of giant
statues, paintings daubed onto the sides of buildings, tiny shapes etched in
shards of pottery. Sophie started to get frantic. Why couldn't she remember