Michael Scott - The Sorceress

A flash of movement caught his attention and Machiavelli looked up at the screen tracking Dee.

The cars had stopped, and even as Machiavelli watched, Dee climbed out of the back of the limousine without giving the driver time to scuttle around to open the door. The Magician walked away from the limousine, then paused and turned to look back at the car behind him. In the instant when Dee gazed directly into the camera, Machiavelli realized he'd known he was being followed. The Magician smiled, then disappeared out of frame, and the Italian hit a speed dial that connected him with the driver of the second car. "Status?" he snapped. There was no need to identify himself.

"We've stopped, sir. The subject has just exited the vehicle."

"Where?"

"We're on the Pont au Double. The subject is heading for Notre Dame."

"Notre Dame!" Machiavelli said softly. Only yesterday, he had stood on the roof of the great cathedral with Dee, and together, they had brought the gargoyles and grotesques to terrifying life and watched them crawl down the wall to where Flamel, the twins, Saint-Germain and a mysterious woman had crouched on the parvis in front of the cathedral. The animated stone creatures should have crushed the humans, but the attack had not gone according to plan.

Flamel and his companions had fought back. Absently, the Italian rubbed his leg where he'd been struck by a silver arrow of pure auric energy. A star-shaped black bruise covered his thigh from knee to hip, and he knew he would be walking with a limp for weeks. It had been the twins who had saved them, the twins who had destroyed the gargoyles and grotesques of Notre Dame.

Machiavelli had stood in silence, seeing for himself the evidence that Sophie and Josh were indeed the twins of legend. It had been an amazing demonstration of power. Although the girl had learned only the very basics in two of the elemental magics-Wind and Fire-it was obvious that her natural skill was extraordinary. And when the twins had combined their auras to heighten and intensify the girl's powers, he had realized that Sophie and Josh Newman were truly exceptional.

Machiavelli's public relations department had released the story that the destruction of the cathedral's stonework was caused by acid rain and global warming. And even now teams of archaeologists and students from the universities of Paris were working to clear the parvis. The square was sealed off behind strips of tape and metal barricades.

The Italian stared hard at the screen, but it revealed nothing. Why had Dee gone back to that place?

"Should we follow?" The driver's voice crackled with static.

"Yes," Machiavelli said quickly. "Follow, but do not approach and do not apprehend. Keep this line open."

"Yes, sir."

Machiavelli waited impatiently, eyes fixed on the static image of the car on the screen. The driver spoke urgently to the men in the other two cars, ordering them to take up positions by the side entrances to the great cathedral. The main doors, which opened out onto the square, were closed. The immortal watched as the driver passed in front of the dashboard camera and disappeared off to the left, phone pressed to his ear. "He's heading for the cathedral," the driver said breathlessly. "He's gone inside. There's no way out," he added quickly.

The ambient sound changed as the man ran indoors. Footsteps echoed, doors slammed; then Machiavelli heard the tinny sounds of excited voices. He listened to the driver grow louder, more demanding, more insistent, but he could not make out the words. Moments later, the driver came back on the phone. "Sir: there are some architects and planners here to examine the damage. The subject would have had to come right past them, but they say no one has entered the cathedral in the last hour." A note of fear crept into the man's voice; Machiavelli's reputation for ruthlessness was legendary, and no one wanted to report a failure. "I know it's impossible, but I think… we-we've lost him." The man's voice faltered. "I… I have no idea how, but it looks like… he's not in the cathedral. We'll seal off the building and get some more men for a search…"

"Negative. Let him go. Return to base," Machiavelli said very softly, and hung up. He knew where Dee was. The Magician wasn't in the cathedral. He was under it. He'd returned to the catacombs beneath the city. But the only thing in the ancient City of the Dead was the Elder Mars Ultor.

And yesterday, Dee had entombed the Elder in bone. he stink of frying food wafted across the junkyard, completely dispelling the odors of metal and oil and the wet musky scent of the dogs.

Flamel was standing on the bottom step to the hut. Even with the extra height, he had to look up into the knight's face. The man the Alchemyst had introduced as William Shakespeare had gone inside and slammed the door with enough force to shake the entire building. Moments later black smoke had started to leak from the chimney. "He cooks when he's upset," Palamedes had explained.

Josh swallowed hard, then pinched his nose shut, forcing himself to breathe through his mouth as the smoke from the building drifted around them. Already sickened by his Awakened senses, he knew that he had to get away from the smell of smoke and grease or he was going to throw up. He saw his sister looking at him, eyes wide with concern, and he jerked his head to one side. She nodded, then coughed, eyes watering as more smoke eddied around them. Stepping carefully, avoiding the booby-trapped potholes in the muddy ground, the twins quickly moved away from the dilapidated metal building. Josh rubbed the heel of his hand across his lips. He could actually taste the cooking oil and grease on his tongue. "Whatever it is," he muttered, "I'm not eating it." He glanced sideways at his sister. "I guess there are a few disadvantages to having Awakened senses."

"Just a few." She smiled. "I thought I was getting used to it," she added.

"Well, I'm not," Josh sighed. "Not yet, anyway." The Elder Mars had Awakened him only the previous day-though it felt like a lifetime ago-and he was still completely overwhelmed by the assault on his senses. Everything was brighter, louder and a lot smellier than it had ever been before. His clothing felt harsh and heavy against his skin, and even the air left a bitter taste on his lips.

"Joan told me that after a while, we'll be able to blank out most of the sensations and only concentrate on what we need to know," Sophie said. "Remember how sick I was when Hekate first Awakened me?"

He nodded. Sophie had been so weak that he'd had to carry her.

"It doesn't seem to have hit you so hard," she said. "You look pale, though."

"I feel sick," Josh said. He nodded toward the hut, where a plume of gray-black smoke was curling from the crooked chimney, leaking the stink of bubbling fat and rancid oil into the air. "And that's not helping. I wonder, would it smell as bad if our senses weren't Awakened?"

"Probably not." She attempted a joke. "Maybe this was why human senses dulled over time. It was all just too much to handle."

Flamel suddenly looked over at the twins and raised an arm. "Stay close; don't wander off," he called. Then, followed by Palamedes, he climbed the remainder of the steps and jerked open the door. The two immortals disappeared into the gloomy interior and slammed the door behind them.

Sophie glanced at her twin. "Looks like we're not invited." Although she kept her voice carefully neutral, Josh could tell she was angry; she always sucked in her lower lip when she was irritated or upset.

"Guess not." Josh pulled the neck of his T-shirt up over his nose and mouth. "What do you think's going on in there? You think if we got closer we'd be able to hear what they're talking about?"

Sophie looked quickly at him. "I'm sure we would, but do you really want to get any closer to that stink?"