Michael Scott - The Sorceress

"Hey," Palamedes shouted at the sudden commotion. "What's going on back there?"

"Nothing," Flamel answered quickly, before Josh or Sophie could say anything. "Everything is under control."

Gilgamesh sat back in the seat, nursing his bruised wrist, glaring at the Alchemyst. He looked at the knife in Sophie's hands. "I want that back."

Ignoring him, she passed it to her brother, who handed it to Nicholas. She was shaking with the shock of what had just happened… and something else, too: fear. She had never seen Josh move like that before. Even with her enhanced senses, she had barely registered that Gilgamesh had a knife in his hand and then Josh had struck, neatly disarming him without saying a word or even rising from his seat. Drawing her legs up to her chest, she wrapped her arms around her shins and rested her chin on her knees. "Do you want to tell us what that was all about?" she asked quietly.

"It took me a while," Gilgamesh said grimly, staring at Flamel. "But I knew there was something about you, something familiar." He wrinkled his nose. "I should have recognized your foul stench." He sniffed. "Is it still mint or have you changed it to something more appropriate?"

Both twins automatically sniffed the air but could smell nothing.

"It is still mint," the Alchemyst said softly.

"I see you know one another," Josh said.

"We've met over the years," Nicholas agreed. He looked at the king. "Perenelle told me to say hello."

Streetlights ran liquid down Gilgamesh's face as he turned to look at the twins. "And I knew I'd met you before," he snapped.

"We've never seen you before in our lives," Josh said sincerely.

"Honestly, we haven't," Sophie agreed.

A look of confusion passed across the immortal's face; then he shook his head. "No, you're lying. You're Americans. We've met before. All of you." He pointed at each of them in turn. "You two were with the Flamels. That's when you tried to kill me."

"It wasn't these twins," Nicholas said quietly. "And we weren't trying to kill you. We were trying to save you."

"Maybe I didn't want to be saved," Gilgamesh said petulantly. He dipped his head so that his hair fell over his forehead, covering his eyes. Then he peered out at the twins. "Gold and silver, eh?"

They both nodded.

"The twins of legend?"

"So we're told." Josh smiled. He glanced sidelong at his sister and saw her nod; she knew the question he was about to ask. She focused on the Alchemyst as Josh spoke, watching his reaction, but his face was a mask, and the passing streetlights turned it dark and ugly. Her brother leaned toward Gilgamesh. "Do you remember when you met the other American twins?"

"Of course." The king frowned. "Why, it was only last month…" His voice trailed away into silence. When he spoke again, there was a note of terrible loss in his voice. "No. It was not last month, or last year, or even in the last decade. It was…" His gaze drifted and he turned to look at the Alchemyst. "When was it?"

The twins both turned to Flamel.

"In 1945," he said shortly.

"And it was in America?" Gilgamesh asked. "Tell me it was America."

"It was in New Mexico."

The king clapped his hands. "At least I was right about that. What happened to the last pair?" he suddenly asked Flamel.

The Alchemyst remained silent.

"I think we'd like to hear the answer too," Sophie said coldly, eyes blinking silver. "We know there've been other twins."

"Lots of other twins," Josh added.

"What happened to them?" Sophie demanded. Somewhere at the back of her mind she thought she already knew the answer, but she wanted to hear Flamel say it out loud.

"There have been other twins in the past," Nicholas admitted finally. "But they were not the right twins."

"And they all died!" Josh said, a crack of anger in his voice. The scent of oranges filled the cab, but the odor was sour and bitter.

"No, not all," Flamel snapped. "Some did, and some went on to live to old age. Including the last pair."

"And what happened to the ones who didn't survive?" Sophie asked quickly.

"A few were damaged by the Awakening process."

"Damaged?" She picked up on the word, determined not to let him get away with anything.

The Alchemyst sighed. "Anyone can be Awakened. But no two people react to the process in the same way. Some were not strong enough to handle the wash of emotions. Some fell into comas, others ended up lost in dreams or unable to cope with the real world, or their personalities split and they spent their days in institutions."

Sophie began to tremble. She felt physically sickened by what Flamel was saying. Even the way he reported it-coldly, without emotion-frightened her. She knew now that Josh's suspicions were justified: the Alchemyst was not to be trusted. When Nicholas Flamel had brought them to the Witch of Endor to be Awakened, he had been fully aware of the terrible consequences of a failed Awakening. But he'd still been willing to go through with it.

Josh slid across the seat, moving closer to his sister, wrapping his arms around her, holding her. He couldn't speak. He knew that he was close, dangerously close, to hitting the Alchemyst.

"How many other sets of twins have there been, Flamel?" Gilgamesh asked. "You have lived on this earth for more than six hundred and seventy years. Was there one set a century? Two? Three? How many lives have you destroyed trying to find the twins of legend?"

"Too many," the Alchemyst whispered. He sat back into the shadows, and the passing streetlights painted his wet eyes sulfurous yellow. "I have forgotten my father's face and the sound of my mother's voice, but I remember the name and face of every twin, and not a day goes by that I do not think of them and regret their loss." And then the hand holding the black bladed knife jabbed out of the gloom at Sophie and Josh. "But every mistake I made, each failed Awakening, gradually and inexorably led me to these, the real twins of legend. And this time, I have no doubts." His voice rose, becoming harsh and raw. "And if they are trained in the elemental magics, then they will be able to stand against the Dark Elders. They will give this world a chance of survival in the battle to come. And then all the deaths and lost lives will not have been in vain." He leaned forward out of the shadows and glared at Gilgamesh. "Will you train them? Will you help them fight the Dark Elders? Will you teach them the Magic of Water?"

"Why should I?" Gilgamesh asked simply.

"You could help save the world."

"I saved it before. No one was grateful. And it is in worse shape today than it has ever been."

The Alchemyst's smile turned feral. "Train them. Empower them. We will take back the Codex from Dee and his Dark Elders and reunite it with the last two pages. I will surrender the Book to the twins: you know there are spells within the Book of Abraham that could return this world to a paradise."

The king leaned closer to the twins. "And there are spells within the Codex that could turn this world to a cinder," he said absently. His finger began moving, pointing to each of them in turn as he repeated the ancient verse. "'And the immortal must train the mortal and the two that are one, must become the one that is all.'" He sat back. "One to save the world, one to destroy it. But which one?"

The Witch's memories battered at Sophie's thoughts, random images leaking into her consciousness.

A tidal wave racing across a lush landscape, crashing into a forest, sweeping away everything before it…

A line of volcanoes erupting in sequence, tearing out huge chunks of landscape, the sea foaming white-hot against the red-black lava…

The skies boiling with storm clouds, raindrops dark with grit, snowflakes black with soot…

"I have no gift of foresight," Flamel snapped. "But this I know to be certain truth: if the twins are not trained and cannot protect themselves, then the Dark Elders will take them, enslave them and use their incredible auras to open the gates to the Shadowrealms. The Dark Elders are missing the Final Summoning from the Codex, but once they have these pages, then they will be able to reclaim this earth again."