Michael Scott - The Sorceress

"Created them entirely out of his imagination," Palamedes said. He held open the cab door and ushered the Alchemyst into the back of the car. "Buckle up," he advised, his black armor winked out of existence. "It's going to be a bumpy ride."

The torrential rain died as quickly as it had started, and then the wolves of the Wild Hunt leapt through the gray smoke.

A moment later, Cernunnos stepped across the moat, smoke twisting through its antlers. Throwing back its head, it bellowed a triumphant laugh. "And where do you think you are going?" it demanded, striding toward the car. "There is no escape from the Horned God." olding tightly to the metal rung with one hand, Perenelle tugged the spear free and stabbed it hard into one of the octopus legs holding her. The metal barely touched the slimy skin, but the leg was abruptly snatched back, leaving the woman with a series of puckered sucker marks on her flesh. Before she could stab the creature again, the other two legs disappeared back into the dark tunnel.

"Sorceress, that was positively rude. You could have injured me. A little deeper and you would have cut my leg off."

"That was the idea," Perenelle muttered, shoving the spear back into the makeshift belt and pulling herself up.

"I have not lost a leg in centuries. And it takes such a long time to grow a new one," the creature added petulantly in Greek, its accent appalling.

Ignoring him, Perenelle climbed up another rung, moving closer to the light. She wondered if Nereus would even be able to fit into the narrow shaft. The creature's sickening stench rolled over her, making her eyes water. She swallowed hard as she felt her stomach protest. Shifting sideways in the narrow passageway, she looked down. Nereus was standing at the bottom of the shaft. She could just about make out his head and shoulders in the dim light from above; thankfully, everything below that was hidden in shadow. He raised his trident and waved. "It seems you are trapped, Sorceress. You cannot climb and stab me with your toothpick. But you are not beyond my reach…"

Perenelle caught a glimpse of wriggling octopus legs at the bottom of the shaft. First one, then two, then four, began to snake their way toward her, curling and coiling, feeling along the dripping stones like creeping fingers. "Have you any idea just who I am?" she demanded in English. She repeated the question in ancient Greek.

Nereus shrugged, a movement that sent all his legs rippling. "I confess I do not."

"Then why are you here?" Perenelle asked, pulling herself up another rung of the rusting ladder. She thought he sounded like a bored academic.

"I am paying off an age-old debt," Nereus bubbled. "One of the Great Elders told me that my debt to them would be wiped clean if I returned to this world and came to this island with my daughters. I was told I could have you for myself and that while you would make only an average servant, you might, perhaps after a century or two, make a good wife. All I know is that you are called a sorceress."

"But do you know which sorceress?" Perenelle demanded.

The creature laughed. "Oh, humani, I do not know, nor do I care. In my time, the word had meaning. A sorceress was someone with power, someone to fear, someone to respect. But here, in this time and in this world, the old words, the old titles, mean nothing. Why, a magician, I have discovered, is nothing more than a children's entertainer, someone who pulls rabbits out of hats."

Perenelle's laugh shocked the Dark Elder to silence. "Then you should know this, Old Man: I am no entertainer. I'm surprised your Elder didn't tell you who you were facing on this island. Or perhaps not so surprised. Maybe if you had known, you would not have embarked on this foolish venture." Perenelle's voice echoed down the shaft. "I am the seventh daughter of a seventh daughter. I have lived upon this earth for nearly seven hundred years, and I carry within me the wisdom of the ages. I have trained with some of the finest sorcerers and magicians, wizards and enchanters who ever lived. Some even you will have heard of. I was apprenticed to the Witch of Endor and I am a pupil of two of the greatest sorceresses in history: Circe and Medea."

"Circe?" Nereus rustled uncomfortably, legs quivering. "Medea?" he added, sounding miserable.

"You, above all others, should know my teachers' reputations."

"And were you a good pupil?" Nereus inquired cautiously.

"The best. Know this, Old Man of the Sea: I will never be your wife. I am wed to the Alchemyst, Nicholas Flamel."

"Oh," the Elder said very softly.

"I am the immortal human Perenelle Flamel."

"Ah-that sorceress," Nereus mumbled.

"Yes, that sorceress." Perenelle wrenched a metal spike from the wall, concentrated her aura in the palm of her hand and watched the rusty metal twist and curl, then melt into dirty brown liquid. "Let me show you a trick Circe herself taught me." Opening her hand, she allowed the metal droplets to dribble from her cupped palm. Scores of tiny golden-brown globes fell into the shadows. The molten rain hissed and sizzled as it scattered across Nereus's flesh, and the air suddenly filled with the reek of frying fish. Octopus legs thrashed and pounded against the stones as the Old Man of the Sea howled and squealed in a score of human and inhuman languages. Perenelle flicked the last droplet off her fingertips. She followed the golden teardrop as it plunged straight down… and landed right in the center of Nereus's forehead, just above his nose. This time he screamed so loudly Perenelle could actually hear the sudden explosion of wings as the thousands of seabirds gathered on the island above rose high into the air, crying and calling.

Nereus disappeared into the shadows, trailing the smell of burnt fish in his wake. "You have not heard the last of me, Sorceress Perenelle," he sobbed. "You will never escape alive!"

Fighting the wave of exhaustion that washed over her, Perenelle turned back to the ladder and pulled herself upward. "That's what everyone says," she murmured. "But I'm still alive."

"You could have helped." Perenelle was sitting on one of the steps in the exercise yard. She turned her face to the afternoon sun and allowed the warmth to soak into her body and recharge her aura.

"Why?" Perched on a step below and to Perenelle's right, the Crow Goddess had spread her black cloak out about her and had also turned her face to the sunlight, eyes lost behind mirrored black sunglasses. Her skin had returned to its former alabaster and only the faintest hint of green remained, with the puckered suggestion of pimples around her lips.

Perenelle took a moment to consider and then she nodded. She had no answer to that. Nereus was not their enemy.

"We could have flown away, too," the Crow Goddess suggested without moving her head.

Perenelle was beginning to identify the voices; the Badb's was slightly softer than the harsher and more masculine Machas's.

"Why didn't you?" Perenelle asked. When she'd finally climbed out of the shaft, filthy and almost sick with exhaustion, she'd known that she was in no condition to fight the Crow Goddess. She hadn't expected to find the creature still on the island at all, but it had been crouched by the entrance to the shaft beneath the rusting water tower, carefully sewing long black feathers back onto its cloak. "Why did you stay?"

The Crow Goddess stirred. "We have been trapped within the Morrigan for a long time. She's had lifetimes of fun; now it's our turn. And we decided that there would be no place more exciting than Alcatraz in the hours to come."

Perenelle eased herself up on her elbows to look down at the creature. "Exciting? I think we might have two different definitions of that word."

The Crow Goddess moved her head and eased her dark glasses down her nose with a long black-nailed finger. One red and one yellow eye blinked at the woman. "Remember, humani, we are the Badb and Macha. We are Fury and Slaughter. Our sister is Death. For millennia, we have been drawn to battlefields the world over, where we feasted on the pain and memories of the dead and dying." Black lips pulled back from long white teeth in a terrifying grin. "And right now, this island is exactly where we need to be." She licked her lips. "I think there is going to be a banquet for us soon!" ires spinning in the mud, the heavy taxicab lurched forward. Sophie gasped as her seat belt locked tight, pulling her back into the seat. Josh groaned as his jerked across his aching stomach.