Something twisted in the shape s mouth, and a single drop of water fell from
its eye to spatter on Perenelle s cheek.
Dark days, sad days, but gone now thankfully, gone. The ghost s lips moved
and the words whispered in Perenelle s head. There has not been a human
prisoner on Alcatraz since 1963, and the island has been peaceful since
1971.
But now there is a new prisoner on your beloved island, Perenelle said
evenly. A prisoner guarded by a warden more terrible than any this island
has ever seen before.
The face in the ceiling altered, watery eyes narrowing, blinking. Who? You?
I am held here against my will, Perenelle said. I am Alcatraz s last
prisoner, and I am guarded by no human jailor, but by a sphinx.
No!
See for yourself!
The plaster crackled and damp dust rained down on Perenelle s face. When she
opened her eyes again, the face in the ceiling had gone, leaving nothing more
than a stain in its wake.
Perenelle allowed herself a smile.
What amuses you, humani? The voice was a slithering hiss, and the language
predated the human race.
Swinging herself into a sitting position, Perenelle focused on the creature
standing in the corridor less than six feet from her.
Generations of ancient humans had tried to capture the image of this creature
on cave walls and pots, etching her shape in stone, capturing her likeness on
parchments. And none of them had even come close to the true horror of the
sphinx.
The body was that of a hugely muscled lion, the fur scarred and cut with the
evidence of old wounds. A pair of eagle s wings curled out of its shoulders
and lay flat against its back, the feathers ragged and filthy. And the small,
almost delicate-looking head was that of a beautiful young woman.
The sphinx stepped up to the bars of the cell, and a black forked tongue
wavered in the air in front of Perenelle. You have no reason to smile,
humani. I have learned that your husband and the Warrior are trapped in
Paris. Soon they will be prisoners, and this time Dr. Dee will ensure that
they never escape again. I understand the Elders have given the doctor
permission to finally slay the legendary Alchemyst.
Perenelle felt something twist in the pit of her stomach. For generations the
Dark Elders had been intent on capturing Nicholas and Perenelle alive. If she
was to believe the sphinx and they were prepared to kill Nicholas, then
everything had changed. Nicholas will escape, she said confidently.
Not this time. The lion s tail of the sphinx whipped excitedly back and
forth, raising plumes of dust. Paris belongs to the Italian, Machiavelli,
and soon he will be joined by the English Magician. The Alchemyst cannot
evade them both.
And the children? Perenelle asked, eyes narrowing dangerously. If anything
had happened to Nicholas or the children
The sphinx s feathers ruffled, raising a musty sour smell. Dee believes the
humani children are powerful, that they may indeed be the twins of prophecy
and legend. He also believes they can be convinced that they should serve us,
rather than following the ramblings of a mad old bookseller. The sphinx took
a deep shuddering breath. But if they do not do as they are told, then they
too will perish.
And what about me?
The sphinx s pretty mouth opened to reveal a maw of savage, needle-pointed
teeth. Her long black tongue thrashed wildly in the air. You are mine,
Sorceress, she hissed. The Elders have given you to me as a gift for my
millennia of service to them. When your husband has been captured and slain,
then I will be given permission to eat your memories. What a feast it will
be. I intend to savor every last morsel. When I am finished with you, you
will remember nothing, not even your own name. The sphinx started to laugh,
the sound hissing and mocking, bouncing off the bare stone walls.
And then a cell door slammed.
The sudden sound shocked the sphinx into silence. Her small head turned, her
tongue flickering, tasting the air.
Another door boomed shut.
And then another.
And another.
The sphinx spun away, claws striking sparks off the floor. Who s there? Her
voice screeched off the damp stones.
Abruptly, all the cell doors in the upper gallery rattled open and closed in
quick succession, the sound a rumbling detonation that vibrated deep into the
heart of the prison, causing dust to rain from the ceiling.
Snarling and hissing, the sphinx bounded away, looking for the source of the
noise.
With an icy smile, Perenelle swung her feet back up on the bench, lay back
and rested her head on her laced fingers. The island of Alcatraz belonged to
Juan Manuel de Ayala, and it looked as though he was announcing his presence.
Perenelle heard cell doors clang, wood thump and walls rattle and knew what
de Ayala had become: a poltergeist.
A noisy ghost.
She also knew what de Ayala was doing. The sphinx fed off Perenelle s magical
energies; all the poltergeist had to do was to keep the creature away from
the cell for a little time and Perenelle s powers could begin to regenerate.
Raising her left hand, the woman concentrated hard. The tiniest ice white
spark danced between her fingers, then fizzled away.
Soon.
Soon.
The Sorceress closed her hand into a fist. When her powers had recovered, she
would bring Alcatraz tumbling down around the sphinx s ears.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
T he beautifully intricate Eiffel Tower loomed more than nine hundred feet
over Josh s head. There was a time when he d compiled a list for a school
project of the Ten Wonders of the Modern World. The metal tower had been
number two on that list, and he d always promised himself that someday he d
get to see it.
And now that he was finally in Paris, he didn't even look up.
Standing almost directly beneath the center of the tower, he rose on his
toes, turning his head left and right, searching for his twin among the
surprisingly large number of early-morning tourists. Where was she?
Josh was scared.
No, more than scared he was terrified.
The last couple of days had taught him the true meaning of fear. Prior to the
events of Thursday, Josh had only ever really been afraid of failing a test
or being publicly humiliated in class. He had other fears too, those vague,
shivery thoughts that came in the dead of night, when he found himself lying
awake wondering what would happen if his parents had an accident. Sara and
Richard Newman both held PhD s in archaeology and paleontology, and while
that wasn't the most dangerous line of work, their research sometimes took
them into countries in the midst of religious or political turmoil, or they
conducted their digs in areas of the world ravaged by hurricanes or in
earthquake zones or close to active volcanoes. The sudden movements of the
earth s crust often threw up extraordinary archaeological finds.
But his deepest, darkest fear was that something would happen to his sister.
Although Sophie was twenty-eight seconds older, he always thought of her as