Michael Scott - The Alchemyst

Nicholas Flamel was fully aware that John Dee could probably see him though the eyes of the rats. He picked out the largest, a cat-sized creature that remained unmoving while the rest of the vermin scuttled and heaved about it. With his right hand still buried in the floorboard, Flamel pointed his left hand directly at the rat. The creature twitched and, for a single instant, its eyes blazed with sickly yellow light.

Dr. John Dee, you have made the biggest mistake of your long life. I will be coming for you, Flamel promised aloud.

Dee glanced up from his scrying bowl to see that Perenelle Flamel was wide awake and watching him intently. Ah, Madame, you are just in time to see my creatures overpower your husband. Plus, I ll finally have an opportunity to deal with that pest Scathach, and I ll have the pages of the book. Dee didn t notice that Perenelle s eyes had widened at the mention of Scathach s name. All in all, a good day s work, I think. He focused his full attention on the biggest rat and issued two simple commands: Attack. Kill.

Dee closed his eyes as the rat uncoiled and launched itself into the room.

The green light flowed out from Flamel s fingers and ran along the floorboards, outlining the planks in green light. Abruptly, the wooden floor sprouted twigs, branches, leaves and then a tree trunk then another and a third. Within a dozen heartbeats a thicket of trees sprouted out of the floor and were visibly climbing toward the ceiling. Some of the trunks were no thicker than a finger, others were wrist thick and one, close to the door, was so wide it almost filled the opening.

The rats turned and scattered, squealing as they raced down the corridor, desperately attempting to leap over the click-clacking blades.

Flamel scrambled back and climbed to his feet, brushing off his hands. One of the oldest secrets of alchemy, he announced to the wide-eyed twins and Scatty, is that every living thing, from the most complex creatures right down to the simplest leaf, carries the seeds of its creation within itself.

DNA, Josh murmured, staring at the forest sprouting and growing behind Flamel.

Sophie looked around the once-spotless dojo. It was now filthy, spattered and splashed with muddy water, the smoothly polished floorboards broken and cracked with the trees growing from them, more foul-smelling mud in the hallway. Are you saying that alchemists knew about DNA? she asked. The Alchemyst nodded delightedly. Exactly. When Watson and Crick announced that they had discovered what they called the secret of life in 1953, they were merely rediscovering something alchemists have always known.

You re telling me that you somehow woke the DNA in those floorboards and forced trees to grow, Josh said, choosing his words carefully. How?

Flamel turned to look at the forest that was now taking over the entire dojo.It s called magic, he said delightedly, and I wasn t sure I could do it

anymore until Scatty reminded me, he added.

So let me get this straight, Josh Newman said, trying to keep his voiceperfectly level, you don t know how to drive? Neither of you?

Josh and Sophie were sitting in the front seats of the SUV Scatty hadborrowed from one of her martial arts students. Josh was driving, and hissister had a map on her lap. Nicholas Flamel and Scathach were sitting in theback.

Never learned, Nicholas Flamel said, with an expressive shrug.

Never had the time, Scatty said shortly.

But Nicholas told us you re more than two thousand years old, Sophie said,looking at the girl.

Two thousand five hundred and seventeen, as you humani measure time withyour current calendar, Scatty mumbled. She looked into Flamel s clear eyes.

And how old do I look?

Not a day over seventeen, he said quickly.

Couldn t you have found time to learn how to drive? Sophie persisted. She dwanted to learn how to drive since she was ten. One of the reasons the twins had taken summer jobs this year, rather than go on the dig with theirparents, was to get the money for a car of their own.

Scathach shrugged, an irritated twitch of her shoulders. I ve been meaningto, but I ve been busy, she protested.

You do know, Josh said to no one in particular, that I m not supposed tobe driving without a licensed driver with me.

We re nearly fifteen and a half and we can both drive, Sophie said. Well,sort of, she added.

Can either of you ride a horse? Flamel asked, or drive a carriage, or acoach-and-four?

Well, no, Sophie began.

Handle a war chariot while firing a bow or launching spears? Scatty added.

Or fly a lizard-nathair while using a slingshot?

I have no idea what a lizard-nathair is and I m not sure I want to know either.

So you see, you are experienced in certain skills, Flamel said, whereas we have other, somewhat older, but equally useful skills. He shot a sidelongglance at Scathach. Though I m not so sure about the nathair flyinganymore.

Josh pulled away from a stop sign and turned right, heading for the GoldenGate Bridge. I just don t know how you could have lived through thetwentieth century without being able to drive. I mean, how did you get from

Public transportation, Flamel said with a grim smile. Trains and buses,mainly. They are a completely anonymous method of travel, unlike airplanesand boats. There is far too much paperwork involved in owning a car,paperwork that could be traced directly to us, no matter how many aliases weused. He paused and added, And besides, there are other, older methods oftravel.

There were a hundred questions Josh wanted to ask, but he was concentratingfuriously on controlling the heavy car. Although he knew how to drive, theonly vehicles he d actually driven were battered Jeeps when they accompaniedtheir parents on a dig. He d never driven in traffic before, and he wasterrified. Sophie had suggested that he pretend it was a computer game. Thathelped, but only a little. In a game, when you crashed, you simply startedagain. Here, a crash was for keeps.

Traffic was slow across the famous bridge. A long gray stretch limo hadbroken down in the inside lane, causing a bottleneck. As they approached,Sophie noticed that there were two dark-suited figures crouched under thehood on the passenger s side. She realized she was holding her breath as theydrew close, wondering if the figures were Golems. She heaved a sigh as theypulled alongside and discovered that the men looked like harassedaccountants. Josh glanced at his sister and attempted a grin, and she knew hehad been thinking the same thing.

Sophie twisted in her seat, and turned to look back at Flamel and Scatty. Inthe darkened, air-conditioned interior of the SUV, they seemed so ordinary:Flamel looked like a fading hippy, and Scatty, despite her rather militarydress sense, wouldn t have looked out of place behind the counter at TheCoffee Cup. The red-haired girl had propped her chin on her fist and wasstaring through the darkened glass across the bay toward Alcatraz.

Nicholas Flamel dipped his head to follow the direction of her gaze. Haven t been there for a while, he murmured.

We did the tour, Sophie said.

I liked it, Josh said quickly. Sophie didn t.

It was creepy.

And so it should be, Flamel said quietly. It is home to an extraordinaryassortment of ghosts and unquiet spirits. Last time I was there, it was toput to rest an extremely ugly Snakeman.

I m not sure I even want to know what a Snakeman is, Sophie muttered, thenpaused. You know, a couple of hours ago, I could never have imagined myselfsaying something like that?

Nicholas Flamel sat back in the comfortable seats and folded his arms across his chest. Your lives yours and your brother s are now forever altered. Youknow that, don t you?

Sophie nodded. That s beginning to sink in now. It s just that everything shappening so fast that it s hard to take it all in. Mud men, magic, books ofspells, rats She looked at Scathach. Ancient warriors