into the polished floorboards, his fingers actually penetrating the wood. The
tiny ball of green energy splashed across the room like a stain. Then the
Alchemyst closed his eyes and his aura flared around his body. Concentrating,
he directed his auric energy to flow through his fingers into the floor.
The wood started to glow.
Still watching from the landing, the twins were unsure what Flamel was doing.
They could see the faint green glow around his body, rising off his flesh
like mist, but they couldn t work out why the furry mass of rats gathered in
the doorway had not burst into the room.
Maybe there s some sort of spell keeping them from coming in, Sophie said,
knowing instinctively that her twin was thinking the same thing.
Scatty heard her. She was systematically shredding the yellow square of paper
she d taken from the Golem s mouth to tiny pieces. It s just a simple
warding spell, she called up, designed to keep bugs and vermin off the
floor. I used to come in here every morning and find bug droppings and moths
all over the place; it took ages to sweep it clean. The warding spell is
keeping the rats at bay but all it takes is one to break through and the
spell will be broken. Then they ll all come.
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.
CHAPTER TEN
S o let me get this straight, Josh Newman said, trying to keep his voice
perfectly level, you don't know how to drive? Neither of you?
borrowed from one of her martial arts students. Josh was driving, and his
sister had a map on her lap. Nicholas Flamel and Scathach were sitting in the
back.
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 with
your 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 d
wanted 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 their
parents, was to get the money for a car of their own.
Scathach shrugged, an irritated twitch of her shoulders. I ve been meaning
to, but I ve been busy, she protested.
You do know, Josh said to no one in particular, that I m not supposed to
be 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 a
coach-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 sidelong
glance at Scathach. Though I m not so sure about the nathair flying
anymore.
Josh pulled away from a stop sign and turned right, heading for the Golden
Gate Bridge. I just don't know how you could have lived through the
twentieth century without being able to drive. I mean, how did you get from
place to place?
Public transportation, Flamel'said with a grim smile. Trains and buses,
mainly. They are a completely anonymous method of travel, unlike airplanes
and 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 we
used. He paused and added, And besides, there are other, older methods of
travel.
There were a hundred questions Josh wanted to ask, but he was concentrating
furiously on controlling the heavy car. Although he knew how to drive, the
only vehicles he
d actually driven were battered Jeeps when they accompanied
their parents on a dig. He d never driven in traffic before, and he was
terrified. Sophie had suggested that he pretend it was a computer game. That
helped, but only a little. In a game, when you crashed, you simply started
again. Here, a crash was for keeps.
Traffic was slow across the famous bridge. A long gray stretch limo had
broken down in the inside lane, causing a bottleneck. As they approached,
Sophie noticed that there were two dark-suited figures crouched under the
hood on the passenger s side. She realized she was holding her breath as they
drew close, wondering if the figures were Golems. She heaved a sigh as they
pulled alongside and discovered that the men looked like harassed
accountants. Josh glanced at his sister and attempted a grin, and she knew he
had been thinking the same thing.
Sophie twisted in her seat, and turned to look back at Flamel and Scatty. In
the darkened, air-conditioned interior of the SUV, they seemed so ordinary:
Flamel looked like a fading hippy, and Scatty, despite her rather military
dress sense, wouldn't have looked out of place behind the counter at The
Coffee Cup. The red-haired girl had propped her chin on her fist and was
staring 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 extraordinary
assortment of ghosts and unquiet spirits. Last time I was there, it was to
put to rest an extremely ugly Snakeman.
I m not sure I even want to know what a Snakeman is, Sophie muttered, then
paused. You know, a couple of hours ago, I could never have imagined myself
saying 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. You
know that, don't you?
Sophie nodded. That'sbeginning to sink in now. It s just that everything s
happening so fast that it s hard to take it all in. Mud men, magic, books of
spells, rats She looked at Scathach. Ancient warriors
Scatty dipped her head in acknowledgment.
And of course, a six-hundred-year-old alchemyst Sophie stopped, a sudden
thought crossing her mind. She looked from Flamel to Scatty and back again.
Then she took a moment to formulate her question. Staring hard at the man,
she asked, You are human, aren't you?
Nicholas Flamel grinned. Yes. Perhaps a little more than human, but yes, I
was born and will always be one of the human race.
Sophie looked at Scathach. But you re
Scathach opened her green eyes wide, and for a single instant, something
ancient was visible in the planes and angles of her face. No, she said very
quietly. I am not of the race of humani. My people were of different stock,
the Elder Race. We ruled this earth before the creatures who became humani
climbed down from the trees. Nowadays, we are remembered in the myths of just
about every race. We are the creatures of legend, the Were clans, the
Vampire, the Giants, the Dragons, the Monsters. In stories we are remembered
as the Old Ones or the Elder Race. Some stories call us gods.
Were you ever a god? Sophie whispered.
Scatty giggled. No. I was never a god. But some of my people allowed
themselves to be worshipped as gods. Others simply became gods as humani told
tales of their adventures. She shrugged. We were just another race, an
older race than man, with different gifts, different skills.
What happened? Sophie asked.
The Flood, Scatty said very softly, amongst other things.
The earth is a lot older than most people imagine, Flamel'said quietly.
Creatures and races that are now no more than myth once walked this world.
Sophie nodded slowly. Our parents are archaeologists. They ve told us about
some of the inexplicable things that archaeology sometimes reveals.
Remember that place we visited in Texas, Taylor something , Josh said,
carefully easing the heavy SUV into the middle lane. He d never driven
anything so big before, and was terrified he was going to hit something. He d
had a couple of near misses and was convinced he d actually clipped someone s
side mirror, but he d kept going, saying nothing.
The Taylor Trail, Sophie said, at the Paluxy River in Texas. There are
what look like dinosaur footprints and human prints in the same fossilized
piece of stone. And the stone is dated to one hundred million years old.
I have seen them, Flamel replied, and others like them all across the
world. I have also examined the shoe print that was found in Antelope Springs
in Utah in rock about five hundred million years old.
My dad says things like that can be easily dismissed as either fakes or
misinterpretation of the facts, Josh said quickly. He wondered what his
father would say about the things they had seen today.
Flamel'shrugged. Yes, that is true. But what science cannot understand, it
dismisses. Not everything can be so easily brushed aside. Can you dismiss
what you've seen and experienced today as some sort of misinterpretation of
the facts?
Sophie shook her head.
Beside her, Josh shrugged uncomfortably. He didn't like the direction this
conversation was taking. Dinosaurs and humans living together at the same
time was simply inconceivable. The very idea went against everything his
parents had taught them, everything they believed. But somewhere at the back
of his mind, a small voice kept reminding him that every year
archaeologists including his parents kept making extraordinary discoveries. A
couple of years earlier, it was Homo floresiensis, the tiny people in
Indonesia, nicknamed Hobbits; then there was the species of dwarf dinosaur
discovered in Germany, and the hundred-and-sixty-five-million-year-old
dinosaur tracks found in Wyoming and, only recently, the eight new
prehistoric species discovered in a cave in Israel. But what Flamel was
suggesting was staggering in its implications. You re saying that humans and
dinosaurs existed on the earth at the same time, Josh said, surprised that
he sounded so angry.
I m saying that humans have existed on the earth with creatures far
stranger, and much older than the dinosaurs, Flamel'said seriously.
How do you know? Sophie demanded. He claimed to have been born in 1330, he
couldn t have seen dinosaurs could he?
It s all written down in the Codex and, in the course of my long life, I ve
seen beasts that are considered myths, I ve fought beings from legend, I ve
faced down creatures that looked like they crawled from a nightmare.
We did Shakespeare in school last term . There s a line from Hamlet. Sophie
frowned, trying to remember. There are more things in heaven and earth
Nicholas Flamel nodded delightedly. than are dreamt of in your philosophy,
he finished the quotation. Hamlet, act one, scene five. I knew Will
&
nbsp; Shakespeare, of course. Now, Will could have been an alchemist of
extraordinary talent but then he fell into Dee s clutches. Poor Will; do you
know that he based the character of Prospero in The Tempest on Dee?
I never liked Shakespeare, Scatty muttered. He smelled.
You knew Shakespeare? Josh was unable to keep the disbelief out of his
voice.
He was my student briefly, very briefly, Flamel'said. I ve lived a long
time; I ve had a lot of students some made famous by history, most forgotten.
I ve met a lot of people, human and unhuman, mortal and immortal. People like
Scathach, Flamel finished.
There are more like you more of the Elder Race? Sophie asked, looking at
the red-haired girl.
More than you might think, though I try not to associate with them, Scatty
said uneasily. There are those amongst the Elders who cannot accept that our
time is past, that this age belongs to the humani. They want to see a return
to the old ways, and they believe that their puppet Dee and others like him
are in a position to bring that about. They are called the Dark Elders.
I don't know if anyone has noticed, Josh interrupted suddenly, but would
you say there are a lot of birds gathering?
Sophie turned to stare through the windshield, while Flamel and Scatty peered
through the back window.
The spars and pylons, the braces, ropes and wires of the Golden Gate Bridge
were slowly filling with birds: thousands of them. Mainly blackbirds and
crows, they covered all available surfaces, with more arriving every moment.
They re coming from Alcatraz, Josh said, dipping his head to look across
the choppy waters toward the island.
A dark cloud had gathered above Alcatraz. It rose out of the abandoned prison
in a dark curl and hung in the air looking like smoke, but this smoke didn't
dissipate: it moved and circled in a solid mass.
Birds. Josh swallowed hard. There must be thousands of them.
Tens of thousands, Sophie corrected him. She turned to look at Flamel.
What are they?
The Morrigan s children, he said enigmatically.
Trouble, Scatty added. Big trouble.
Then, as if driven by a single command, the huge flock of birds moved away
from the island and headed across the bay, directly toward the bridge.
Josh hit his window button and the tinted glass hummed down. The noise of the