Michael Scott - The Necromancer

“Where…,” she breathed.

And then the moon rose huge and yellow in the east and climbed steadily into the heavens, shedding milk-white light across the landscape. The sky was so clear that individual craters were visible on the surface.

A heartbeat later, the second moon rose.

Then a third.

And a fourth.

“H e’s big,” Josh whispered in awe, glancing at Sophie. “I mean, really big.”

She nodded, eyes fixed on the figure.

Prometheus was huge. The Elder stood close to seven feet tall and looked like he weighed at least three hundred pounds-all of it muscle. There was not an ounce of fat on his body. His jeans were ragged, worn through at both knees and frayed at the hems; the logo on his T-shirt was so faded it was almost invisible, and his work boots were thickly encrusted with dried mud. Although his hair was a mass of tight red curls, his beard was streaked with gray and silver.

“Uncle!” With a cry of delight, Aoife pushed open the car door and flung herself at the big man.

“Aoife!” He caught her as if she weighed nothing and threw her into the air, both of them laughing.

Josh suddenly felt himself smiling at the image of this ferocious-looking man grinning as he tossed Aoife-who seemed like a child in his arms-into the air. He had a sudden vivid memory of his own father throwing him high just like that when he was younger. He’d loved that feeling of flying.

“My good girl.” Prometheus flung Aoife into the air again, even higher, and she squealed once more.

“Don’t let me fall,” she gasped, beginning to hiccup.

“Have I ever let you fall?” the Elder demanded, and Josh suddenly realized that he spoke English with a surprisingly strong Southern drawl.

“Never,” she said breathlessly.

“It’s been so long. Too long.” The big man caught Aoife, set her on the ground and stepped back, holding her at arm’s length as he took her in. “You’ve grown…”

“Not an inch since you last saw me,” she said quickly.

“And when was that?” he wondered aloud.

“Oh, not too long ago. Just over a hundred and twenty years, I think.” Aoife pushed her dark glasses onto her head and looked up into her uncle’s broad face.

Josh immediately realized that their eyes were an identical shade of green.

“The last time I saw you,” Aoife continued, “was when you and Niten came to my rescue when I got into trouble with the Nagas on Krakatoa.”

Prometheus nodded and laughed. “Yes, yes, I remember!”

“Krakatoa,” Josh breathed excitedly. “That’s where Mom and Dad were five years ago. That’s the island with the volcano…” He turned and looked into the back of the car, but no one was listening to him: Sophie, Nicholas and Perenelle were all staring at the Elder.

The twins’ parents had spent an entire summer on the island when the twins were ten, and Josh had used the island and the photographs his mom and dad had taken as the basis for a school project two years ago. He knew that one of the biggest volcanic explosions ever recorded on earth had taken place on Krakatoa in the late nineteenth century… which was, he realized with a start, about one hundred and twenty years ago.

“And how is your boyfriend, the Swordsman?” Prometheus boomed.

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Aoife said quickly, bright spots of color appearing on her pale cheeks. “And he’s fine.”

“Have you seen him recently?”

“Very recently.” Aoife turned as the driver’s door opened and Niten stepped out. With his hands flat against his thighs, the Japanese immortal bowed to the huge red-haired Elder.

Prometheus matched his bow. “It is good to see you, old friend,” he said warmly.

“And you, Firelord.”

Josh looked around, suddenly realizing that the moment Prometheus had appeared by the side of the car, the mud figures had slipped away, disappearing back into the trees and tall grasses on either side of the narrow country road. He could see them between the leaves, blank faces toward the red-haired Elder like flowers turned toward the sun.

Prometheus ducked his head to look into the back of the car. “So let’s see what other surprises are in here,” he said. “Is it a nice surprise…”

Perenelle helped Nicholas out of the car.

“… or a not-so-nice surprise?” he finished. Then, straightening to his full height, he took the Sorceress’s hand in his and bowed low over it. “I wish I could say that it is always a pleasure to see you, Mistress Flamel, but you and bad news travel hand in hand.”

“I suppose that must make me the bad news.” Nicholas stretched out his hand, but Prometheus ignored it, gently embracing the Alchemyst, actually lifting his feet off the ground.

“You are always bad news,” the Elder said lightly, smiling to take the sting from his words. His green eyes were troubled as he looked over the immortal. “And today is no different, I see. You have aged, Alchemyst.” He turned to look at the woman. “You are still as beautiful as ever.”

“You always were a charming rogue, Prometheus, and no, you should never tell a woman she is looking old.” Perenelle smiled.

“We are in trouble,” Nicholas admitted. “I will explain all later. But first, there are two people I would like you to meet.” Nicholas turned, and Josh suddenly realized that the Alchemyst was looking at him. Taking a deep breath, he pushed open the passenger door… and instantly felt a pressure in the air as if some unseen force was pushing him back.

He caught the impression of a faint red halo around the Elder, but the moment he stepped out of the car, he saw the glow intensify until it looked as if the Elder was wrapped in red mist rippling just above his skin. Behind Prometheus, Josh could see Aoife’s gray aura rising like steam off her body. He took a step forward and his own aura bloomed around him. His head itched and he ran his fingers through his hair: crackling orange-scented sparks snapping under his flesh.

“Another Gold,” Prometheus said sadly. Then his eyes hardened as he looked at the Flamels. “I thought we agreed after the last time-”

“Not just another Gold,” Nicholas interrupted, “the Gold.” He pointed at Josh. “Look at him closely, Prometheus. Look at this aura. He is the gold twin of legend. He is Awakened, and has learned Water magic from Gilgamesh. Now he needs to know Fire.”

“And you expect me to train him?”

“Please. We don’t have much time.”

“Absolutely not,” Prometheus snapped. “I told you after the last one that I would never train a humani again.”

Shocked and puzzled, Josh was turning to Nicholas when he felt a cold chill run across his back. He turned around just as Sophie climbed out of the car.

The tingling had begun the moment she had seen Prometheus’s huge head peering into the car. It was like a thousand pins and needles racing through her body, beginning in her fingers and toes, rushing up into her skull. And with the tingling came the surge of memories.

… a red-haired boy on a cliff, a tentacled monster rising out of the raging sea…

… the boy, now a young man in exotic silver armor, wielding a flaming red sword against a host of armored warriors…

… the same young man raining balls of fire down on a distant fleet of sparkling metal ships…

… the man, older now, walking away from the Nameless City, followed by thousands-tens of thousands-of newly created humani…

… the man, older still, terribly wounded and chained to a rock on a poisonous Shadowrealm, being attacked by savage birdlike creatures…

The moment her foot touched the ground, Sophie’s aura blossomed around her, instantly hardening and solidifying into a suit of exotic-looking silver armor that encased her body. A smooth oval helmet completely covered her head, the eye openings protected with green glass, and although the gloves on her fingers were metal, they were as flexible as leather.