Most of them predated mankind; many of them were even older than the Elders
and belonged to the race that had inhabited the earth in the far-distant
past. They were the Words of Power, the ancient Symbols of Binding, designed
to protect or trap something either incredibly valuable or extraordinarily
dangerous.
She had a feeling this was going to be the latter.
And she also wondered where Dee had discovered the ancient words.
Sloshing through the thick mud, Perenelle took her first step into the
tunnel. All the spiderwebs rustled and trembled, a sound like the whispering
rustle of leaves. There must be millions of spiders in here, she thought.
They didn't frighten her; she d come up against creatures much more
frightening than spiders, but she was aware that there were probably
poisonous brown recluses, black widows or even South American hunting spiders
amongst the mass of arachnids. A bite from one of them would certainly
incapacitate her, possibly even kill her.
Perenelle jerked one of the spears out of the mud and used it to swipe away
the web. The square symbol on the spearhead glowed red and the gossamer webs
hissed and sizzled where the spear touched them. A thick shadow that she knew
was a mass of spiders flowed backward into the gloom. Advancing slowly down
the narrow tunnel, she knocked over each spear she came to, allowing the
filthy mud to wash away the Words of Power, gradually dismantling the
intricate pattern of magic. If Dee had gone to all this trouble to trap
something in the cell, it meant that he couldn't control it. Perenelle wanted
to find out what it was and free it. But as she drew nearer, the globe over
her shoulder throwing a flickering light across the corridor, another thought
crossed her mind: had Dee imprisoned something that even she should be afraid
of, something ancient, something horrible? Suddenly, she didn't know if she
was making a terrible mistake.
The doorposts and the entrance to the cell had been painted with symbols that
hurt her eyes to look at. Harsh and angular, they seemed to shift and twist
on the rock, not unlike the writing in the Book of Abraham. But whereas the
letters in the ancient book formed words in languages she mostly understood,
or at least recognized, these symbols twisted into unimaginable shapes.
She bent down, scooped up some of the mud and splashed it over the letters,
erasing them. Only when she had completely cleaned away the primeval Words of
Power did she step forward and send the globe of light twisting and bobbing
into the cell.
It took Perenelle a single heartbeat to make sense out of what she was
seeing. And in that moment, she realized that dismantling the protective
pattern of power might indeed have been a terrible mistake.
The entire cell was a thick cocoon of spiders webs. In the center of the
cell, dangling from a single strand of silk no thicker than her index finger,
was a spider. The creature was enormous, easily the same size as the huge
water tower that dominated the island above her head. It vaguely resembled a
tarantula but bristling purple hair tipped with gray covered its entire body.
Each of its eight legs was thicker than Perenelle. Set in the center of its
body was a huge, almost human head. It was smooth and round, with no ears, no
nose and only a horizontal slash for a mouth. Like a tarantula, it had eight
tiny eyes set close to the top of the skull.
And one by one, the eyes slowly opened, each the color of an old bruise. They
fixed on the woman s face. Then the mouth widened, and two long spearlike
fangs appeared. Madame Perenelle. Sorceress, it lisped.
Areop-Enap, she said in wonder, acknowledging the ancient spider Elder. I
thought you were dead.
You mean you thought you d killed me!
The web twitched and suddenly the hideous creature launched itself at
Perenelle.
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
D r. John Dee leaned across the backseat of the police car. Turn here, he
said to Josh. He saw the expression on the young man s face and added,
Please.
Josh hit the brakes and the car slid and screeched, the front tire now
completely torn away and the wheel running on the metal rim, kicking up
sparks.
Now here. Dee pointed to a narrow alleyway lined on both sides with rows of
plastic trash cans. Watching him in the rearview mirror, Josh could see that
he kept twisting in the seat to look behind him.
Is she following? Machiavelli asked.
I can't see her, Dee said crisply, but I think we need to get off the
streets.
Josh struggled to control the car. We won't get much farther in this, he
began, and then hit the first trash can, which toppled into a second and then
a third, scattering rubbish across the alley. He turned the steering wheel
sharply to avoid running over one of the fallen bins and the engine began to
bang alarmingly. The car wobbled and then suddenly stopped, smoke billowing
from the hood. Out, Josh said quickly. I think we re on fire. He
scrambled out of the car, Machiavelli and Dee exiting on the other side. Then
they turned and ran down the alley, away from the car. They had taken perhaps
half a dozen steps when there was a dull thump and the car burst into flames.
Thick black smoke began spiraling upward into the sky.
Wonderful, Dee said bitterly. So now the Disir definitely knows where we
are. And she s not going to be happy.
Well, not with you, that s for sure, Machiavelli said with a wry smile.
Me? Dee looked surprised.
I m not the one who set fire to her, Machiavelli reminded him.
It was like listening to children. Enough, already! Josh rounded on the two
men. Who was that that woman?
That, Machiavelli said with a grim smile, was a Valkyrie.
A Valkyrie?
Sometimes called a Disir.
A Disir? Josh found that he wasn't even surprised by the response. He
didn't care what the woman was called; all he cared about was that she d
tried to slice him in two with a sword. Maybe this was a dream, he thought
suddenly, and everything that had happened from the moment Dee and the Golems
had stepped into the bookshop was nothing more than a nightmare. And then he
moved his right arm and his bruised shoulder protested. He winced in pain.
The skin on his burned face felt tight and stiff, and when he licked his dry,
cracked lips, he realized that this was no dream. He was wide awake this was
a living nightmare.
Josh stepped back from the two men. He looked up and down the narrow alley.
There were tall houses on one side, and what looked like a hotel was on the
other. The walls were daubed with layers of cursive and ornate graffiti, some
of which had even been sprayed onto the trash cans. Standing on his toes, he
tried to see the skyline, looking for the Eiffel Tower or Sacre -Coeur,
something to give him an idea where he was. I ve got to get back, he said,
edging farther from the two disheveled men. According to Flamel, they were
the enemy especially Dee. And yet Dee had just saved him from the Disir.
Dee turned to look at him, gray eyes twinkling kindly. Why, Josh, where are
you going?
Back to my sister.
And Flamel and Saint-Germain too? Tell me; what are they going to do for