The Warlock (The Secrets of the Immortal Nicholas Flamel #5) (32 page)

Dee coughed out a laugh, and when he spoke his
voice was a ragged whisper. “It is deaf. Your magic flute is useless.”

“I gathered that,” Virginia muttered.

The Lotan’s green skin rippled with colors, red and black waves surging up and down its body. Abruptly, all the colors flowed into the heads, turning each a different shade of crimson, except for the central head, which had grown almost twice as big as the others and was now solid black.

Josh clenched and unclenched his fists and his golden auric gloves formed again and started to work their way up his arms, sheathing them in metal.

The Lotan’s seven heads instantly fixed on the young man.

“Josh,” Machiavelli said quietly, not taking his eyes off the Lotan. “I suggest you stop whatever you’re doing. Right now!”

“I was shielding myself with my aura,” Josh began.

Dee shook himself free of Dare and Billy. A little color had returned to the Magician’s ash-white face, but his eyes were still ringed with shadows, and he cradled his swollen left hand. He stepped toward the creature, which reared its heads as if it was about to strike, and then all its nostrils opened stickily and seven tongues tasted the air. Dee turned his back on the creature. “The Lotan feeds off more than flesh. It’s vampire-like—it will suck the aura from any living creature.” He looked at Machiavelli. “Are you brave enough to stretch out your arm?”

“Brave enough, perhaps, but not so foolish,” Machiavelli said, eyes still fixed on the creature.

Billy immediately stretched out his left arm and the air was touched with the earthy scent of red pepper. A reddish-purple gauze wrapped around the immortal’s hand.

The Lotan shuddered, all the heads transferring their attention to him, tongues flickering. Billy suddenly grunted and staggered forward as his aura started to coil and stream away from his arm toward the creature. The yellow tongues lapped the gossamer red smoke from the air.

“Stop it, Billy!” Machiavelli said.

The American tried to lower his arm. “I can’t,” he gasped. His aura had deepened in color, the stream clearly visible in the air as it flowed toward the lizard. The veins on the back of Billy’s outstretched hand were pronounced, and he hissed in pain as his fingernails turned red, then purple, before changing to black, cracking and falling off.

Josh immediately stepped in front of Billy and cracked the flat of his hand across his face. The immortal grunted in surprise. Josh caught the front of his shirt and used a tae kwan do standing leg sweep to bring Billy to his knees. The immortal hit the stones with bruising force and his aura instantly faded.

“Oh man, that hurt. I think you just busted my kneecap,” Billy grumbled. He stretched out his hand and Josh hauled him to his feet. “Never thought I’d thank someone for hurting me, but thanks. I owe you—and I never forget my debts.” He flexed his left hand. It was pale, shot through with veins and broken blood vessels and the ovals where his fingernails had fallen off oozed a clear liquid. “That really stings,” he muttered.

“That was a stupid thing to do,” Virginia snapped.

“Stupid is my middle name.” Billy grinned.

“This is the beast you’re going to unleash on the city?” Machiavelli said quietly. “A flesh eater, an aura drinker?”

“The first of many beasts,” Dee said with a laugh that turned into a gurgling cough and doubled him over. “Let it prowl through the streets and feast for a while. You have the spells: awaken the monsters in the cells and send them into the city.”

“And then what?” Machiavelli asked.

“Our work here is through.” Dee spread his arms wide. “We have done as we were ordered to do by our respective masters. You can return on the next flight to Paris … well, maybe not the next flight, I’m not sure the airport will be operating much longer.” He pointed back toward the cellblock with his chin. “I saw some wyverns inside. Perhaps you should send them to the airport.” He laughed again.

“And what about you, Doctor?” Machiavelli asked. “What happens to you when the Elders return?”

“You let me worry about that.”

“I think I would like to know,” the Italian said icily. His lips moved in a smile that didn’t come close to his eyes. “We are in this together.”

Dee folded his arms across his chest and the huge Lotan crept closer to him. The long tongues flickered up and down his back and ruffled his hair. He absently brushed them away. “I am considering my options,” he said finally. “But first, let us send this beastie on its way.…”

“No,” Billy and Machiavelli said simultaneously.

“No?” Dee looked confused. “Ah, I see. You think we should awaken some of the creatures and send them all in together?” He nodded. “We could bring them ashore at a couple of places, a multipronged attack.”

Billy the Kid shook his head. “We’ve been thinking.…”

“You shouldn’t strain yourself,” Dee quipped.

Billy’s face turned hard. “Your smart mouth is going to get you into trouble one of these days.”

“Perhaps,” Dee said, “but not by you.”

“Enough,” Machiavelli yelled. “What my impulsive young friend is trying to say is that we have decided the monsters should not be released into the city.”

Dee blinked in surprise.

“It wouldn’t be right,” Billy said.

“Not
right
?” The Magician started to laugh. “Is this some sort of joke?” He looked at Virginia. “It’s a joke, right?”

Dare shook her head slightly. “I don’t think so,” she said, moving slowly away from the Italian and American immortals.

Billy shifted his body, half turning so that he could watch both Dee and Dare at once.

“Why are you doing this, John?” Machiavelli asked. “It gains you nothing.”

“It buys me time, Niccolò,” Dee said. “Our Elder masters expect the creatures to be released into the city, and we must not disappoint them.”

“Or they might come to investigate,” Machiavelli said slowly. “And find you here …”

“Just so,” Dee agreed. “Let them watch the city from
their Shadowrealms and rub their hands in glee at the destruction.”

“So it’s a distraction?” Billy the Kid spat. “Just a distraction!”

Dee grinned. “Like a stage magician’s card trick. They’ll be focused on the city and they’ll not bother me here.”

“Why? What are you up to, John?” Niccolò demanded.

“That’s none of your business.”

The Italian patted his jacket pocket. Paper rustled. “I have the spells to awaken the creatures; I won’t do it. Moreover, I’ll contact the Flamels and warn them what’s coming across the bay. We both know just how dangerous Perenelle can be. She’ll stop the Lotan.”

“I don’t think so,” Dee whispered. “Remember, this creature drinks auras. I’m sure the Sorceress would taste sweet indeed.” He looked from Billy to Machiavelli and then back to Billy. “And you’re in this with him?”

The American took a step closer to the Italian immortal. “Sure am.”

“Last chance,” Dee warned.

“Oh, should I be scared?”

“So you’ve finally betrayed your masters,” Dee said, speaking so softly that the words were barely audible over the breeze. “You have broken your oaths of service to them. Warlocks.”

“You’re hardly one to talk,” Machiavelli said.

“Yes, but now your decision compromises my plans,” the Magician said. He looked at Josh. “And where do you stand?” he demanded. “With me or with the Italian?”

Josh looked blankly from Dee to Machiavelli, mouth
opening and closing in confusion. Of course he didn’t want the monsters released into San Francisco; that was just wrong. He felt a sudden surge of heat on his shoulder and he reached around to pull Clarent free. As soon as it settled into his hand, warmth bloomed along the length of his arm and something shifted in his mind. The doubts eased, washed away with the certainty that it was absolutely right that the creatures be released in the streets. In fact, it was necessary. He remembered a phrase his father had used during a lecture he had given at Brown University the previous Christmas. He’d quoted Charles Darwin: “It is not the strongest of the species that survive, not the most intelligent, but the one most responsive to change.”

A little death and destruction, a little hysteria and fear, would be good for the humani. The thought of the Lotan wandering along the Embarcadero was kind of funny. He started to grin at the image. And the more he thought about it, the more he saw it was
necessary
for the Lotan to be released—that would bring the Elders back, and that was what this was all about.

“Think of the destruction, Josh,” Machiavelli said.

Buildings crumbling; people running, screaming …
The sword throbbed with each image.

“You’ve lived in San Francisco, Josh,” Billy said. “You don’t want that to happen there, do you?”

Virginia Dare stepped forward and put her arm around Josh’s shoulder. “Josh knows where he stands,” she said, her steely gray eyes locking onto his. “He stands with us. Isn’t that right?”

Josh turned bright red, blinking as the musky sage scent of Dare’s aura caught at the back of his throat. Disappointing Virginia Dare was the last thing he’d ever want to do. “Well, yes, I think so. I’m not sure.…” The sword’s hilt grew warmer and his fingers were pulled in tightly against it. He was suddenly so hot that he thought he was going to pass out. Images of destruction and chaos danced at the edge of his consciousness. Flames blossomed, and he was entranced by their beauty; he heard screams, but the sounds were almost musical.

“Where do you stand?” the Magician repeated.

“Think a moment before giving an answer,” Billy warned.

“Oh, that is rich, coming from you,” Dee said. “Josh, are you with me or with the Italian? And if you are with Machiavelli,” he added contemptuously, “notice that moments ago he threatened to betray us to the Flamels. Here is someone else who will do everything possible to remain in control, even if it means condemning the world to a long, slow, lingering destruction.”

“There are over eight hundred thousand people living in the city of San Francisco,” Billy said angrily. “A lot of them—maybe even most of them—will die. You don’t want that, Josh, do you?”

“Remember when we talked in Ojai last week?” Dee asked before Josh could answer. “Remember when I showed you the world as it could be, as it
would
be if the Elders returned—with clear air, pure water, unpolluted seas …” As the Magician spoke, images flickered before Josh’s eyes.

… an island set under cloudless azure skies. Endless fields of
golden wheat marching into the distance. Trees laden with an assortment of exotic fruit
.

… huge wind-blown desert dunes turning green with lush grass
.

… a hospital ward with a long row of empty beds
.

Josh nodded, mesmerized by what he saw. “A paradise.”

“A paradise,” Dee agreed. “But that is not what the Italian and the outlaw want. They want the world as it is: dirty and damaged, so they can work in the shadows.”

“Josh,” Billy said firmly, “don’t listen to him. This is Dee, remember—a prince of liars.”

“Flamel lied to you also,” Dee quickly reminded him. “And remember what he and his wife did to your sister.”

“Turned her against you,” Virginia whispered. She reached over and rested her fingertips against the back of Josh’s hand as if in sympathy. “And there is one thing I can teach you that neither Machiavelli nor Billy can,” she said, lowering her voice and leaning in so that only he could hear her. “I will train you in the Magic of Air. The most useful of all the magics,” she added persuasively.

The Magic of Air
. The words had gotten his attention. “Sophie knows the Magics of Air, Fire and Water. I only know Water and Fire.” As Josh spoke he was suddenly aware of how close Dare stood, of the heat from Clarent burning through his body. He was sweating, but the wind off the sea chilled the moisture on his flesh. He shivered.

“The Magic of Air,” Virginia repeated. “It would make you the equal of your sister,” she murmured. Then she
leaned forward. “And maybe, one day, you will even be more powerful.”

Josh turned away from Virginia and looked at Dee. “I’m with you,” he said.

Dee grinned. “You’ve made the right decision, Josh.”

“You’ve made the biggest mistake of your life,” Niccolò said quietly, and Josh found that he could no longer look the Italian or Billy the Kid in the eye.

Out of the blue, Billy moved, launching himself at Dee, while Machiavelli turned toward Dare, but the immortal woman already had her flute to her lips. “Too slow,” she breathed into the flute, and as the words turned to music, Niccolò Machiavelli and Billy the Kid crashed to the ground, unconscious.

Virginia rolled Machiavelli over with her foot and then stooped to pluck an envelope from his inside pocket. She tossed it to Josh, who handed it over to the Magician. “The instructions for awakening the monsters,” Dare said.

The Magician clapped Josh on the shoulder. “Well done,” he said sincerely. “Now let’s get this pair into cells before they wake up.”

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” Virginia said, nodding toward the Lotan.

Dee smiled, eyes dancing wildly. He looked at the creature and then waved both hands in front of it. “Go. Shoo.” He pointed at the city less than a mile away. “Go and feed.”

The Lotan turned, waddled over the rocks and splashed
into the water. The seven heads bobbed above the waves for a moment before dipping below the surface, and then a curled bow wave headed toward the city.

“I wonder what the tourists on the Embarcadero will make of that,” Dare said.

“Oh, I would imagine we’ll hear the screams from here.” The English Magician tapped the envelope against his leg impatiently. “Come, let us awaken some very hungry creatures.” He looked down at the unconscious and bruised Machiavelli and Billy. “Hmm, maybe they’d like a little snack first.” Then he turned to Josh, who was standing watching the trail of the Lotan as it headed toward San Francisco. “You’ve made the right decision, Josh,” he said again.

Josh nodded. He hoped so. He sincerely hoped so. He looked at Dare and she smiled at him, and the young man felt easier. Even if he didn’t entirely trust Dee, he did trust Virginia Dare.