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echoing and fading on the transatlantic line. Twins, he added.

Say again? Machiavelli asked.

Twins, Dee added, with pure gold and silver auras. You know what that

means, he snapped.

Yes, Machiavelli muttered. It meant trouble. Then the tiniest of smiles

curled his thin lips. It could also mean opportunity.

Static crackled and then Dee s voice continued. The girl s powers were

Awakened by Hekate before the Goddess and her Shadowrealm were destroyed.

Untrained, the girl is no threat, Machiavelli murmured, quickly assessing

the situation. He took a breath and added, Except perhaps to herself and

those around her.

Flamel took the girl to Ojai. There, the Witch of Endor instructed her in

the Magic of Air.

No doubt you tried to stop them? There was a hint of amusement in

Machiavelli s voice.

Tried. And failed, Dee admitted bitterly. The girl has some knowledge but

is without skill.

What do you want me to do? Machiavelli asked carefully, although he already

had a very good idea.

Find Flamel and the twins, Dee demanded. Capture them. Kill Scathach if

you can. I m just leaving Ojai. But it s going to take me fourteen or fifteen

hours to get to Paris.

What happened to the leygate? Machiavelli wondered aloud. If a leygate

connected Ojai and Paris, then why didn't Dee ?

Destroyed by the Witch of Endor, Dee raged, and she nearly killed me, too.

I was lucky to escape with a few cuts and scratches, he added, and then

ended the call without saying good-bye.

Niccol Machiavelli closed his phone carefully and tapped it against his

bottom lip. Somehow he doubted that Dee had been lucky if the Witch of Endor

had wanted him dead, then even the legendary Dr. Dee would not have escaped.

Machiavelli turned and walked across the square to where his driver was

patiently waiting with the car. If Flamel, Scathach and the American twins

had come to Paris via a leygate, then there were only a few places in the

city where they could have emerged. It should be relatively easy to find and

capture them.

And if he could capture them tonight, then he would have plenty of time to

work on them before Dee arrived.

Machiavelli smiled; he d only need a few hours, and in that time they would

tell him everything they knew. Half a millennium on this earth had taught him

how to be very persuasive indeed.

CHAPTER TWO

J osh Newman reached out and pressed the palm of his right hand against the

cold stone wall to steady himself.

What had just happened?

One moment he d been standing in the Witch of Endor s shop in Ojai,

California. His sister, Sophie, Scathach and the man he now knew to be

Nicholas Flamel had been in the mirror looking out at him. And the next thing

he knew, Sophie had stepped out of the glass, taken his hand and pulled him

through it. He d squeezed his eyes shut and felt something icy touch his skin

and raise the small hairs on the back of his neck. When he d opened his eyes

again, he was standing in what looked like a tiny storage room. Pots of

paint, stacked ladders, broken pieces of pottery and bundled paint-spattered

cloths were piled around a large, rather ordinary-looking grimy mirror fixed

to the stone wall. A single low-wattage lightbulb shed a dim yellow glow over

the room. What happened? he asked, his voice cracking. He swallowed hard

and tried again. What happened? Where are we?

We re in Paris, Nicholas Flamel said delightedly, rubbing his dusty hands

against his black jeans. The city of my birth.

Paris? Josh whispered. He was going to say Impossible, but he was

beginning to understand that that word had no meaning anymore. How? he

asked aloud. Sophie? He looked to his twin sister, but she had pressed her

ear against the room's only door and was listening intently. She waved him

away. He turned to Scathach, but the red-haired warrior just shook her head,

both hands covering her mouth. She looked as if she was about to throw up.

Josh finally turned to the legendary Alchemyst, Nicholas Flamel. How did we

get here? he asked.

This planet is crisscrossed with invisible lines of power sometimes called

ley lines or cursus, Flamel explained. He crossed his index fingers. Where

two or more lines intersect a gateway exists. Gates are incredibly rare now,

but in ancient times the Elder Race used them to travel from one side of the

world to the other in an instant just as we did. The Witch opened the leygate

in Ojai and we ended up here, in Paris. He made it sound so matter-of-fact.

Leygates: I hate them, Scatty mumbled. In the gloomy light, her pale,

freckled skin looked green. You ever been seasick? she asked.

Josh shook his head. Never.

Sophie looked up from her spot leaning against the door. Liar! He gets

seasick in a swimming pool. She grinned, then pressed the side of her face

back against the cool wood.

Seasick, Scatty mumbled. That s exactly what it feels like. Only worse.

Sophie turned her head again to look at the Alchemyst. Do you have any idea

where we are in Paris?

Someplace old, I m guessing, Flamel said, joining her at the door. He put

the side of his head back against the door and listened.

Sophie stepped back. I m not so sure, she said hesitantly.

Why not? Josh asked. He glanced around the small untidy room. It certainly

looked as though it was part of an old building.

Sophie shook her head. I don't know it just doesn t feel that old. She

reached out and touched the wall with the palm of her hand, then immediately

jerked it back again.

What s wrong? Josh whispered.

Sophie placed her hand against the wall again. I can hear voices, songs and

what sounds like organ music.

Josh shrugged. I can t hear anything. He stopped, abruptly conscious of the

huge difference between himself and his twin. Sophie s magical potential had

been Awakened by Hekate, and she was now hypersensitive to sights and sounds,

smells, touch and taste.

I can. Sophie lifted her hand from the stone wall and the sounds in her

head faded.

You re hearing ghost sounds, Flamel explained. They re just noises

absorbed by the building, recorded into the very structure itself.

This is a church, Sophie said decisively, then frowned. It s a new

church modern, late nineteenth century, early twentieth. But it s built on a

much, much older site.

Flamel paused at the wooden door and looked over his shoulder. In the dim

overhead light, his features were suddenly sharp and angular, disturbingly

skull-like, his eyes completely in shadow. There are many churches in

Paris, he said, though there is only one, I believe, which matches that

description. He reached for the door handle.

Hang on a second, Josh said quickly. don't you think there ll be some sort

of alarm?

Oh, I doubt it, Nicholas said confidently. Who would put an alarm on a

storeroom in a church? he asked, jerking the door open.

Immediately an alarm pealed through the air, the sound echoing and reechoing

off the flagstones and walls. Red security lights strobed and flashed.

Scatty sighed and muttered something in an ancient Celtic language. Didn't