Michael Scott - The Sorceress

"Stay awhile," Nereus gurgled. Another leg snapped around Perenelle's knee, suckers biting deep into her skin. His laughter was like a wet sponge being squeezed dry. "I insist." osh sat, dazed, as the wall of fire started to die down in a billowing cloud of thick white steam. Rain churned the ground to thick sticky mud as thunder rumbled continuously overhead. Lightning flashed, painting everything ash white and ebony black.

"Time to go," Palamedes said decisively, rainwater running off his helmet. He turned to look at Sophie and Josh, Nicholas and Shakespeare. They were all soaked through, the twins' hair plastered to their skulls. "There is a time to fight and a time to run. A good soldier always knows when it is time to do either. We can stand here and fight Dee and Cernunnos and none of us will survive. Except you, perhaps," he said to the twins. Firelight ran amber off his dark skin and matching armor. "Though I am not sure what your quality of life would be in service to the Dark Elders. Nor how long you would survive when they were finished with you."

Bitter smoke curled around them, thick, cloying and noxious, driving them back toward the metal hut.

"Will, take the Gabriel Hounds-"

"I'm not running," the Bard said immediately.

"I'm not asking you to run," Palamedes snapped. "I want you to regroup and not needlessly sacrifice our forces."

"Our forces?" Nicholas asked. "Don't tell me the Saracen Knight has finally chosen a side?"

"Temporarily, I assure you," Palamedes said. He turned back to the Bard. "Will, take the Gabriel Hounds through the tunnel under the hut. Gabriel," he called. The largest of the dogmen hurried over. The blue tattoos on his cheeks were covered in mud and speckled blood, and his dun-colored hair stuck up in all directions. "Protect your master. Get him out of London and bring him to the Great Henge. Wait for me there."

Shakespeare opened his mouth to protest but closed it when the Saracen Knight glared at him.

Gabriel nodded. "It will be done. How long should we wait at the Henge?"

"If I am not back by sundown tomorrow, then take Will to one of the nearby Shadowrealms; Avalon or Lyonesse, perhaps. You should be safe there."

Ignoring the Alchemyst, Gabriel turned bloodshot eyes to look at the twins. "And what of the two that are one?"

Josh and Sophie waited silently as Palamedes took a deep breath. "I'm going to bring them back into London." He looked at the Alchemyst. "We'll take them to the king."

The dogman's savage teeth flashed in a smile. "Leaving them with Cernunnos might be safer."

Sophie and Josh sat in the back of the black London taxi and watched the Alchemyst, Shakespeare and Palamedes huddle together around a flaming barrel that was burning chunks of wood and strips of smoldering black tires. Rain steamed and hissed over the flames, and thick white smoke from the dying moat fires mingled with the greasy black fumes coming out of the barrel.

"I can see their auras," Josh muttered wearily. The unexpected appearance of his own aura had exhausted him. A sick headache pounded just over his eyes, the muscles in his arms and legs were burning and his stomach felt queasy, almost as if he was going to throw up. His hands were numb where they'd gripped Clarent's hilt.

Sophie turned to look out the steamed-up window. Josh was correct: the three immortals were outlined with the faintest of auras-Flamel's emerald green and Palamedes' deeper olive green bracketing Shakespeare's pale lemon yellow.

"What are they doing?" Josh asked.

Sophie hit the window button, but the car was turned off and the electric windows didn't work. She rubbed the palm of her hand across the glass to clear it, then caught her breath. The immortal's auras brightened, and she could feel the crawling trickle of power as it started to dribble from their hands like sticky liquid into the barrel. "Nicholas and Palamedes seem to be lending their power to Shakespeare. The Bard's lips are moving, he's saying something…" She cracked open the door to listen, blinking as a sprinkling of rain spattered into the darkened interior of the car.

"… imagination is the key, brother immortals," Shakespeare said. "All I need you to do is to concentrate and I can create a charm of powerful trouble."

"It's a conjugation," Sophie said in awe. She was abruptly conscious that this was a word she would never have used days earlier, one she wouldn't have even understood.

Josh slid over beside his sister to peer out into the wet night. "What's a conjur… conjurgate…?"

"He's creating something out of nothing, shaping and making something simply by imagining it." She pushed open the door a little farther, ignoring the rain on her face. She knew-because the Witch knew-that this was the most arduous and exhausting of all the magics, requiring extraordinary skill and focus.

"Do it quickly," the Alchemyst said through gritted teeth. "The fire is nearly out and I'm not sure how much strength I have left."

Shakespeare nodded. He pushed both hands deep into the burning barrel. "Boil and bubble, boil and bubble," he whispered, his accent thickening, returning to the familiar Elizabethan he had grown up with. "First, let us have the serpent of the Nile…"

Smoke twisted and curled around the barrel, which suddenly boiled with hundreds of heaving snakes. They tumbled onto the ground.

"Snakes! Why are there always snakes?" Josh groaned and looked away.

"… spotted snakes with double tongue…," Shakespeare continued.

More snakes spilled from the barrel, writhing and slithering around the immortals' feet. The Gabriel Hounds silently backed away, red eyes fixed on the serpents.

"And now for some thorny hedgehogs, newts and blind worms…," Shakespeare continued, his voice rising and falling in a singsong pattern, as if he were repeating a verse. His head was thrown back and his eyes were closed. "… and toads, ugly and venomous," he added, his voice becoming hoarse.

Creatures cascaded from the barrel, hundreds of fat hedgehogs, grotesque toads, slithering newts and curling worms.

"… and finally, screech owls…"

A dozen owls erupted from the flames in a shower of sparks.

Shakespeare suddenly slumped and would have fallen if the Saracen Knight had not caught him. "Enough," Palamedes said.

"Enough?" The Bard opened his eyes and looked around. They were standing ankle-deep in the creatures that had burst from the burning barrel. The ground around them was thick with twisting snakes, hopping toads, curling newts and wriggling worms. "Aye, 'tis done." Lightning flashed overhead as he reached out to squeeze the Alchemyst's arm and quickly embraced the Saracen Knight. "Thank you, my brothers, my friends. When shall we three meet again?" he asked.

"Tomorrow night," Palamedes said. "Now go, go now." He carefully lifted his left leg. A black adder dripped from his ankle. "How long will these last?" he asked.

"Long enough." Shakespeare smiled. Brushing strands of lank hair out of his eyes, he raised his hand to the twins in the car. "We only part to meet again."

"You didn't write that," Palamedes said quickly.

"I know, but I wish I had." Then, surrounded by the hounds, William Shakespeare slipped under the metal hut and disappeared. Gabriel waited until the other hounds had followed him.

"Keep him safe," Palamedes called.

"I will protect him with my life," Gabriel said in his soft Welsh accent. "Tell me, though." He nodded to the mass of creatures in the mud. "These… things…?" He left the question unfinished.

Palamedes' smile was ferocious. "A little present for the Wild Hunt."

The Gabriel Hound nodded, then stooped and transformed into his huge dog form before squirming under the hut and vanishing.

And then, with a final sizzling hiss, the moat fires went out. "Time to go," Flamel said, carefully picking his way through the creatures Shakespeare had conjured. "I didn't know he could do that."