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
perfectly level, you don't know how to drive? Neither of you?
Josh and Sophie were sitting in the front seats of the SUV Scatty had
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
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
