life, sparking, crackling, long streamers of icy light spinning around her
body. She felt a rush of emotions, a swirling mess of thoughts, ugly
thoughts, dark thoughts, the memories and emotions of those men and women who
had carried the sword in ages past. She was about to fling the weapon away in
disgust, but she knew it was probably Scatty s only chance. Nidhogg's tail
was wounded, so Josh must have cut it there. But she d seen the Alchemyst
hack at the tough hide with no result.
Unless
Racing up to the monster, she plunged the weapon point first into its
shoulder.
The effect was immediate. Red-black fire burned along the length of the
blade, and the monster's skin immediately started to harden. Sophie's aura
blazed brighter than it had ever been before, and instantly her brain was
filled with impossible visions and incredible memories. Then her aura
overloaded and winked out in an explosion that picked her up and sent her
sailing through the air. She managed to scream once before she came crashing
down onto the canvas roof of Joan's Citron, which slowly and gently ripped
along its seams and deposited her neatly in the front passenger seat.
Nidhogg spasmed, great claws opening as its flesh hardened.
Joan of Arc darted through the monster's legs, grabbed Scatty around the
waist and jerked her free, oblivious to the creature's huge feet stamping
inches from her head.
Nidhogg bellowed, a sound that set house alarms clanging across the city.
Every car alarm in the parking lot burst to life. The beast attempted to turn
its head, to follow Joan as she dragged Scatty away, but its ancient flesh
was solidifying into thick black stone. Its mouth opened, revealing its
daggerlike teeth.
Abruptly, a huge section of the quayside cracked; rock pulverized to dust,
crumpling to powder beneath the creature's weight. Nidhogg tilted forward and
crashed down through the moored tourist boat, snapping it in two,
disappearing into the Seine in an enormous explosion of water that sent a
huge wave racing down the river.
Lying on the quayside, close to the water's edge, soaked through, Scathach
came slowly, groggily awake. I haven t felt this bad in centuries, she
mumbled, attempting but failing to sit up. Joan eased her into a sitting
position and held her tightly. The last thing I remember Scatty's green
eyes snapped open. Nidhogg Josh.
He tried to save you, Flamel said, limping up to Scatty and Joan. He
snatched Clarent from the quayside. He stabbed Nidhogg, slowed it down long
enough for us to get here. Then Joan fought the Disir for you.
We all fought for you, Joan said. She put her arm around Sophie, who had
staggered from the wrecked car, bruised and battered, with a long scrape
along her forearm but otherwise unharmed. Sophie finally defeated Nidhogg.
The Warrior slowly got to her feet, turning her head from side to side,
working her stiff neck muscles. And Josh? she asked, looking around. Her
eyes went wide with alarm. Where s Josh?
Dee and Machiavelli have him, Flamel said, his face gray with exhaustion.
We re not sure how.
We have to go after them now, Sophie said urgently.
Their car's not in good shape, they cannot have gotten far, Flamel said. He
turned to look at the Citro n. I m afraid yours has taken a battering as
well.
And I did so love that car , Joan murmured.
Let's get out of here, Scatty said decisively. We re about to be inundated
with police.
And then, like a shark erupting from the waves, Dagon exploded out of the
Seine. Rearing up, more fish now than man, gills open on his long neck, round
eyes bulging, he wrapped webbed claws around Scathach and dragged her
backward into the river. Finally, Shadow. Finally.
They disappeared into the water with barely a splash and didn't reappear.
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
P erenelle followed de Ayala's ghost as he led her through the maze of
Alcatraz's ruined buildings. She tried to keep to the shadows, ducking under
shattered walls and empty doorways, constantly alert for creatures moving in
the night. She didn't think the sphinx would dare venture out of the
prison despite their terrifying appearance, sphinxes were cowardly creatures,
fearful of the dark. However, many of the beings she'd seen in the
spiderwebbed cells below were creatures of the night.
The entrance to the tunnel was almost directly under the tower that had once
held the island's only fresh water supply. Its metal framework was rusted,
eaten away by the salt sea, acid bird droppings and countless tiny leaks from
the huge water tank. However, the ground directly beneath the tower was lush
with growth, fed by the same dripping water.
De Ayala pointed out an irregular patch of earth close to one of the metal
legs. You will find a shaft leading down to the tunnel under here. There is
another entrance to the tunnel cut into the cliff face, he said, but it is
only accessible by boat at low tide. That is how Dee brought his prisoner to
the island. He doesn t know about this entrance.
Perenelle found a rusted length of metal and used it to scrape away the dirt,
revealing broken and cracked concrete beneath the soil. Using the edge of the
metal bar, she began to dig away at the dirt. She kept glancing up, trying to
gauge how close the birds had come to the island, but with the wind whipping
in over the ruined buildings and keening through the rusted metal struts of
the water tower, it was impossible to make out any other noises. Tendrils of
the thick fog that had claimed San Francisco and the Golden Gate Bridge had
now reached the island, coating everything in a dripping, salt-smelling
cloud.
When she had scraped back the earth, de Ayala drifted over one particular
spot. Just here, he said, his voice a breath in her ear. The prisoners
discovered the existence of the tunnel and managed to dig a shaft down to it.
They understood that decades of water dripping from the tower had softened
the soil and even eaten away at the stones beneath. But when they eventually
broke through to the tunnel below, it was at high tide, and they found that
it was flooded. They abandoned their efforts. He showed his teeth in a
perfect smile he had not possessed in life. If only they had waited until
the tide turned.
Perenelle scraped away more soil, revealing more broken stone. Jamming the
metal bar under the edge of a block, she leaned hard on it. The stone didn't
budge. She pressed again with both hands, and then, when that didn't work,
lifted a boulder and hammered once on the metal bar: the clink rang out
across the island, tolling like a bell.
Oh, this is impossible, she muttered. She was reluctant to use her powers,
since it would reveal her location to the sphinx, but she had no other
choice. Cupping her right hand, she allowed her aura to gather in her palm,
where it puddled like mercury. She rested her hand lightly, almost gently, on