Michael Scott - The Alchemyst

On either side of the overgrown path, trees rose high into the heavens andthe undergrowth was surprisingly thick: wild brambles and thorn bushesscraped at the side of the car, while furze, gorse, and stinging nettles,wrapped through with poison ivy, completed the impenetrable hedge.

I ve never seen anything like it, Sophie murmured. It s just not natural.And then she stopped, realizing what she d just said. She swiveled around inthe seat to look at Flamel. It s not natural, is it?

He shook his head, suddenly looking old and tired. There were dark ringsunder his eyes, and the wrinkles on his forehead and around his mouth seemeddeeper. Welcome to our world, he whispered.

There s something moving through the undergrowth, Josh announced loudly.Something big I mean really big. After everything he d seen and experiencedso far today, his imagination started working overtime. It s keeping pacewith the car.

So long as we stay on the track, we shall be fine, Flamel said evenly.

Sophie peered into the dark forest floor. For a moment she saw nothing, thenshe realized that what she d first taken for a patch of shadow was, in fact,a creature. It moved, and sunlight dappled its hairy hide. She caught a

It s a pig a boar, she corrected herself. And then she spotted three more,flanking the right-hand side of the car.

They re on my side too, Josh said. Four of the hulking beasts were movingthrough the bushes to his left. He glanced in the rearview mirror. And behind us.

Sophie, Scatty and Nicholas turned in their seats to stare through the rearwindow at the two enormous boars that had slipped through the undergrowth andwere trotting along on the path behind them. Sophie suddenly realized justhow big the creatures were each one was easily the size of a pony. They werehugely muscled across the shoulders, and the tusks jutting up from theirlower jaws were enormous, starting out as thick as her wrist before taperingto needle-sharp points.

I didn t think there were any wild boars in America, Josh said, and certainly not in Mill Valley, California.

There are wild boars and pigs all over the Americas, Flamel said absently.They were first brought over by the Spanish in the sixteenth century.

Josh shifted gears, eased off the accelerator and allowed the car to moveforward at a crawl. The road had come to a dead end. The barrier of bushes,thorns and trees now stretched across the path. End of the road, he announced, putting the car into park and setting the emergency brake. Helooked left and right. The boars had also stopped moving, and he could seethem, four to a side, watching. In the rearview mirror, he could see that thetwo larger boars had stopped too. They were boxed in. What now, he wondered,what now? He looked at his sister and knew she was thinking exactly the samething.

Nicholas Flamel leaned forward between the seats and looked at the barrier. I believe this is here to discourage the foolhardy who have traveled thisfar. And if one were exceptionally foolish, one might be tempted to get outof one s vehicle.

But we are neither foolhardy nor foolish, Scatty snapped. So what do we do? She nodded at the boars. I haven t seen this breed in centuries. Theylook like Gaulish war boars, and if they are, then they are virtuallyimpossible to kill. For every one we can see, there are probably at leastthree more in the shadows, and that s not counting their handlers.

These are not Gaulish; this particular breed has no need of handlers,Flamel said gently, the merest hint of his French accent surfacing. Look at their tusks.

Sophie, Josh and Scatty turned to look at the tusks of the huge creaturesstanding in the middle of the track behind them. They ve got some sort ofcarvings on them, Sophie said, squinting in the late-afternoon light.Curls.

Spirals, Scatty said, a touch of wonder in her voice. She looked at Flamel.They are Torc Allta?

Indeed they are, Flamel said. Wereboars.

By wereboars, Josh said, do you mean like werewolves?

That s a relief, Josh said, because for a second there I thought you weretaking about humans who changed into wolves.

Werewolves are Torc Madra, Scatty continued, as if she hadn t heard him.

They re a different clan altogether.

Sophie stared hard at the nearest boar. Beneath its piglike features, shethought she could begin to see the shapes and planes of a human face, whilethe eyes cool and bright, bright blue regarded her with startlingintelligence.

Josh turned back to the steering wheel, gripping it tightly. Wereboars of course they are different from werewolves. Different clan entirely, he muttered, how silly of me.

What do we do? Sophie asked.

We drive, Nicholas Flamel said.

Josh pointed at the barrier. What about that?

Just drive, the Alchemyst commanded.

But, Josh began.

Do you trust me? Flamel asked for the second time that day. The twinslooked at each other, then back at Flamel, and nodded, heads bobbing inunison. Then drive, he said gently.

Josh eased the heavy SUV into gear and released the emergency brake. Thevehicle crept forward. The front bumper touched the seemingly impenetrablebarrier of leaves and bushes and vanished. One moment it was there; the next,it was as if the bushes had swallowed the front of the car.

The SUV rolled into the bushes and trees, and for a single instant everythingwent dark and chill, and the air was touched with something bittersweet likeburnt sugar and then the path appeared again, curving off to the right.

How, Josh began.

It was an illusion, Flamel explained. Nothing more. Light twisted andbent, reflecting the images of trees and bushes in a curtain of water vapor,each drop of moisture acting as a mirror. And just a little magic, he added. He pointed ahead with a graceful motion. We re still in North America, butnow we ve entered the domain of one of the oldest and greatest of the ElderRace. We ll be safe here for a while.

Scatty made a rude sound. Oh, she s old, all right, but I m not so sureabout great.

Scathach, I want you to behave yourself, Flamel said, turning to theyoung-looking but ancient woman sitting beside him.

I don t like her. I don t trust her.

You ve got to put aside your old feuds.

She tried to kill me, Nicholas, Scatty protested. She abandoned me in the Underworld. It took me centuries to find my way out.

That was a little over fifteen hundred years ago, if I remember mymythology, Flamel reminded her.

I ve got a long memory, Scatty muttered; for an instant she looked like asulky child.

Who are you talking about? Sophie demanded, and then Josh hit the brakes,bringing the heavy car to a halt.

Wouldn t be a tall woman with black skin, would it? windshield Josh asked.

Sophie spun around to look through the cracked, while Flamel and Scattyleaned forward.

That s her, Scatty said glumly.

The figure stood in the path directly in front of the car. Tall and broad,the woman looked as if she had been carved from a solid slab of jet-blackstone. The merest fuzz of white hair covered her skull like a close-fittingcap, and her features were sharp and angular: high cheekbones; straight,pointed nose; sharply defined chin; lips so thin they were almostnonexistent. Her pupils were the color of butter. She was wearing a long,simple gown made of a shimmering material that moved gently in a wind thatdidn t seem to touch anything around her. As it shifted, rainbow colors randown its length, like oil on water. She wore no jewelry, though Sophienoticed that each of her short blunt fingernails was painted a differentcolor.

Doesn t look a day over ten thousand years old, Scatty muttered.

Be nice, Flamel reminded her.

Who is it? Sophie asked again, staring hard at the woman. Although shelooked human, there was something different, something otherworldly abouther. It showed in the way she stood absolutely still and in the arrogant tiltof her head.