Read The Warlock (The Secrets of the Immortal Nicholas Flamel #5) Online
Authors: Michael Scott
Tags: #General, #Action & Adventure, #Juvenile Fiction, #Fantasy & Magic, #Legends; Myths; Fables, #Other, #Visionary & Metaphysical, #Folklore & Mythology, #Social Science
“We didn’t steal this boat, did we?” Josh asked, vaguely uncomfortable with the thought.
“We borrowed it.” Dee smirked. “He voluntarily gave me the keys.”
“You didn’t use any of your aura again, did you?” Virginia said in alarm. “That would alert everything—”
“Don’t take me for a fool!” Dee interrupted angrily, but then had to lean over the boat as another bout of nausea gripped him.
Virginia grinned and winked at Josh. “It’s hard to sound masterful when you’re throwing up, isn’t it?”
“I hate you, Virginia Dare,” Dee mumbled.
“I know you don’t really mean that,” she said lightly.
“I do,” he croaked.
Virginia tapped Josh on the shoulder and pointed to the shoreline on the left. “Stay close to Treasure Island. We’ll follow it all the way around to the northern tip; then we should be able to see Alcatraz across the bay.”
Before Josh could answer, an enormous pier, like a wall of concrete, appeared directly in front of them and he turned the wheel to the right. He overcompensated and the boat
lurched at a sharp angle, almost pitching Dee over the side. Water sloshed in and the Magician scrambled to hold on, only to slip and land sitting in a puddle of oily water.
Virginia howled with laughter.
“You forget I have no sense of humor,” Dee snapped.
“But I do,” Virginia said. She turned back to Josh and pointed directly ahead. “Keep right and go around the pier, then swing back to the left again and stay close to the beach. But not too close,” she added. “Some rocks may have come loose from the shore. This is an artificial island, and it’s always in danger of falling apart. I watched it being built in the 1930s, and back then it was higher than it is today. The entire island is slowly sinking. The next big earthquake will probably shake it to pieces.”
Josh glanced at the rocky shoreline. Most of the buildings seemed to be industrial, and many looked run-down. “It looks deserted. Does anyone live here anymore?”
“Yes. As a matter of fact, I actually have some friends who live on the other side of the island.”
“I didn’t think you had any friends,” Dee grumbled.
“Unlike you, Doctor, I am a
good
friend,” Dare said without turning around, then continued, “The island was a naval base until it closed in the late nineties. After that a bunch of movies and a few TV series were shot on it.”
“Why is it called Treasure Island?” Josh asked. “Was there ever any treasure?” There was a time when he’d have laughed at the idea, but right now he was prepared to believe almost anything.
Virginia’s laughter was infectious, and Josh found himself
liking her more and more. “No. It was called Treasure Island after the book of the same name written by Robert Louis Stevenson. Stevenson lived in San Francisco for a year or so before he wrote the book.” As they rounded the top of the island, Virginia stood to look back at it. “I’m sure it was named as a joke—here’s an island built on scraps and junk called Treasure Island.” She turned and pointed straight ahead to a surprisingly small speck of rock in the middle of the bay. “And there’s Alcatraz. Just keep the nose pointed straight for it.”
Josh grunted as the boat hit another wave. It rose and fell back with a bone-shaking bang. “It’s farther away than I thought it would be. I’ve never been this far out from shore before. I’ve never even driven a boat before.”
“One should always embrace new experiences,” Virginia said.
“I’m a little nervous,” he admitted.
“Why?” Virginia asked curiously. She sat back in the vinyl-covered chair and looked at him.
The young man suddenly felt uncomfortable under her intense scrutiny. “Well,” he said eventually, “anything might happen. The boat could sink, or the engine could break down, or …”
“Or what?” she asked. “Do you know, in my experience, humani waste too much time worrying about things that will never happen. Yes, the boat could sink … but it probably will not. The engine might stall … but I doubt it. We could also be hit by lightning, or—”
Dr. John Dee suddenly scrambled up from the back of
the boat. “Or eaten by mermaids,” he said urgently. “I just remembered. The island is surrounded by a protective ring of Nereids.” He coughed in embarrassment. “And I gave them instructions not to allow anything to get within fifty feet of it.”
Virginia spun around. “There are mermaids around the island?”
“The Old Man of the Sea is on Alcatraz, and he brought the wild Nereids with him,” Dee said. “I need to get hold of Machiavelli! He needs to tell Nereus that we’re coming.” He pulled out his cell phone, but when he flipped it open, water poured from it. Without pausing, Dee pulled his phone apart, popped out the battery and wiped it on his grubby shirt.
Josh looked at Virginia. “I have no idea what he just said.”
“Nereus, the Old Man of the Sea, is a particularly foul Elder,” Virginia explained. “He’s human-looking as far as his waist, and then he becomes octopus. He claims the lower part of the oceans as his domain. The largest of his watery Shadowrealms touches this earth around the place known as the Bermuda Triangle.”
“Where all the ships disappear?” Josh asked.
“Right there. The walls between his world and this are worn thin, and occasionally ships or planes from this world slip into his, or some foul sea monster from his world slinks through into the Earth Shadowrealm. The Nereids are his daughters.” Virginia smiled. “Do not allow yourself to be tempted too close to the water by their smiles or songs. They are flesh eaters.”
Dee hurriedly reassembled his phone and powered it on.
Then he flung it away in disgust. “Nothing. I have no way of getting in touch with Machiavelli.”
Virginia produced her wooden flute and spun it in her fingers. “I don’t know why you’re so worried, Doctor. I can easily lull them to sleep with—”
Before she could finish her sentence a green-skinned, green-haired, fish-tailed woman had leapt straight up out of the sea, snatched the flute from Virginia’s fingers and splashed back into the water on the opposite side of the boat, leaving her empty-handed.
Virginia Dare’s scream was hideous. Flinging off her smoke-stained jacket and pulling off her shoes, she launched herself over the side of the boat and disappeared beneath the waves without a trace.
“Doctor!” Josh yelled over the noise of the motor. He raised his left arm to point, and he was pleased that his fingers didn’t shake too badly.
Dee hurried forward and leaned over the prow of the boat.
The sea ahead of them was dotted with women’s heads, green hair spread out about them like seaweed. As one, they opened their mouths to reveal piranha-like teeth. And then they launched themselves toward the boat, dipping in and out of the water like dolphins.
“Now we’re in trouble,” Dee said. “Deep, deep trouble.”
ophie Newman stood in the kitchen and looked out on the small paved patio where Perenelle Flamel and Tsagaglalal sat together. To any casual observer, they looked like two elderly ladies, one tall and thin but strong, the other short and frail, sitting under a large candy-striped umbrella drinking iced tea and nibbling chocolate chip cookies. But these were no ordinary ladies: one was almost seven hundred years old, and the other … well, Sophie doubted if the other was even human.
Both women turned to look at her, and although they were beneath the dark shade of the umbrella, their eyes were glowing—green and gray—giving their faces an alien appearance.
Tsagaglalal beckoned Sophie out of the house. “Come here, child. Sit with us. We have been waiting for you.” She had not spoken English, but Sophie understood her and
recognized the ancient language of Danu Talis. When she went to stand by the old woman, Tsagaglalal caught her hand. “Have you no kiss for your favorite auntie?” she asked, reverting to English.
Sophie jerked her hand away. She had no idea what this woman was—or even if she
was
a woman—but she was definitely no relative of hers. “You’re not my aunt,” she said coldly.
“Not by blood, but you are family to me. Always have been,” Tsagaglalal said, almost sadly, “always will be. I have watched over you and your brother from the moment of your birth.”
Sophie swallowed the sudden lump in her throat but sat down without kissing the old woman’s proffered cheek. There was a glass of iced tea and chocolate chip cookies already set out on a plate for her. She picked up the tea but then noticed the slice of orange floating in the drink. The scent reminded her of Josh, and she felt her stomach lurch. She put it down untasted and pushed the plate of cookies away. A sudden wave of absolute despair washed over her. In the last week, she had lost everything, including her brother. Even the touchstones of her past—like her aunt—had disappeared. She felt lost and utterly alone.
“Are you not hungry?” Tsagaglalal asked.
“How can you even ask me that question?” Sophie’s anger was palpable. “No, I’m not hungry. I’m sick to my stomach. Josh is gone—and he hates me. I saw it in his eyes.”
The two women looked at one another.
Sophie rounded on Perenelle. “And Nicholas is dying upstairs. Why aren’t you up there with him?”
“I will go to him when it is time,” the Sorceress whispered.
Sophie shook her head and suddenly there were furious tears in her eyes. “What are you?” she demanded of Tsagaglalal. “You’re not … you’re not even human. And you,” she accused Perenelle, “you’re just
in
human! I hate you. All of you. I hate what you’ve done to Josh and me. I hate this world you’ve dragged us into. I hate these powers, and knowing stuff I shouldn’t know, and having my thoughts invaded.…” Huge tears rolled down her face, but she didn’t want them to see her cry. Gripping the edge of the table, she tried to push her chair back, but suddenly Tsagaglalal and Perenelle both reached out and placed their hands on hers. Sophie’s aura blazed for a moment, but it fizzled and died, and the girl’s vanilla odor was swamped by the scent of jasmine. Perenelle’s aura had no scent.
“Stay,” Perenelle said coldly, and it was not an invitation. Sophie couldn’t move. It was as if she had suddenly slipped into a dream. She was awake and alert, but there was no feeling in her body.
“Listen to the Sorceress,” Tsagaglalal said gently. “The fate not only of this world but of all worlds now hangs in the balance, and both you and your brother have the power to tip it one way or another. All the time lines have converged, as was prophesied ten thousand years ago. Circumstances have conspired to confirm that you are indeed the twins of
legend.” Her gray eyes filled with tears. “I wish it were otherwise, for your sakes. This is a hard road you must follow. Josh is with Dee, and this too, believe it or not, was foretold millennia ago. What was not foreseen—what could not be foretold—was Dee’s insanity and what he proposes to do.”
“Sophie,” Perenelle Flamel said quietly, “you have to believe me when I tell you that I wish none of this had happened to you or Josh. Do you believe that?”
Sophie wasn’t sure what to believe anymore. She wanted to trust the Sorceress, and yet … something prevented her. The woman had lied to her, but the Flamels had been living a lie for centuries. Sophie guessed that they lied only to protect themselves and those around them. Still, Josh hadn’t wanted to trust the Flamels. Maybe he’d been right. Maybe going with Dee had been the correct decision. The sudden thought chilled her: what if she was on the wrong side in this age-old battle?
The truth—the cold, bitter truth—was that she simply did not know. Right and wrong, good and bad, had become twisted and confused. She couldn’t even distinguish friends from enemies anymore.
Tsagaglalal and Perenelle lifted their hands off Sophie’s at the same time, and the feeling flowed back into her body. Her silver aura flared and crackled protectively around her, steaming in the early-afternoon sunlight. She drew in a great heaving breath but made no move to leave the table.
“Sophie, what will you do to help Josh, to save him, to bring him back?” Tsagaglalal asked.
“Anything. Everything.”
Perenelle leaned forward to place both forearms on the table. Her hands were tightly locked together, knuckles white with tension. “And Sophie, what do you think I will do to help my husband?”