shadow trailing scores of smaller dots. The smaller shapes looked as if they
could be birds except that he knew that birds rarely fly at night. Dee knew
immediately and without question that this was what he had been brought up
here to meet. He concentrated on the larger shape as it came closer, trying
to make sense of what he was seeing, but it was only when the figure dropped
onto the roof that he realized he was looking at an ashen-faced woman dressed
entirely in black, wearing a long cloak of crow s wings.
That night, Dr. John Dee first met the Morrigan. That night, he learned of
the Elder Race and how they had been forced from the world of men by the
magic in the Book of Abraham the Mage, a book that was currently in the
possession of Nicholas Flamel. That night, Dee learned that there were those
among the Elders who wanted to return to their rightful place as the rulers
of mankind. And that night, the Crow Goddess promised Dee that he would one
day control the entire world, he would be master of an empire that stretched
from pole to pole, from sunrise to sunset. All he had to do was to steal the
Book from Flamel and hand it over.
That night, Dr. John Dee became the champion of the Dark Elders.
It was a mission that had taken him across the world, and into the many
Shadowrealms that bordered it. He had fought ghosts and ghouls, creatures
that had no right to exist outside of nightmares, others that were left over
from a time predating the arrival of the humani. He had gone to battle at the
head of an army of monsters and had spent at least a decade wandering lost in
an icy Otherworld. Many times, he had been concerned for his safety, but he
had never been truly frightened until this moment, sitting before the
entrance to a Bel Air estate in twenty-first-century Los Angeles. In those
early days he had not been fully aware of the powers of the creatures he
served, but nearly four and a half centuries in their service had taught him
many things including the fact that death was probably the least of all the
punishments they could inflict on him.
The armed security guard stepped back and the high metal gates clicked open,
allowing Dee s car to sweep in on the long white stone driveway toward the
sprawling marble mansion that was just visible through the trees. Although
night had fallen, no lights were showing in the house, and for a moment Dee
imagined that no one was at home. Then he remembered that the person the
of lights.
The car turned into the circular drive in front of the main entrance, where
the headlights picked up a trio of people standing on the bottom step. When
the car finally crunched to a halt on the white gravel, a figure stepped up
to the door and pulled it open. It was impossible to make out any details in
the gloom, but the voice that came out of the darkness was male, and spoke to
him in heavily accented English. Dr. Dee, I presume. I am Senuhet. Please,
come in. we've been expecting you. Then the figure turned away and strode up
the steps.
Dee climbed out of the car, brushed off his expensive suit and, conscious
that his heart was fluttering, followed Senuhet into the mansion. The other
two figures fell into step on either side of him. Although no one said
anything, Dee knew they were guards. And he wasn't entirely sure they were
human.
The magician recognized the heavy, cloying scent as soon as he stepped into
the house: it was frankincense, the rare and incredibly expensive aromatic
gum from the Middle East, used in ancient times in Egypt and Greece and as
far to the east as China. Dee felt his eyes water and his nose twitch. Those
of the Elder Race were particularly fond of frankincense, but it gave him a
headache.
As the three shadowy figures led Dee into the great hallway, he caught a
glimpse of Senuhet: a small, slender man, bald and olive skinned. He looked
as if he was of Middle Eastern origin, from Egypt or Yemen. Senuhet pushed
closed the heavy front door, spoke two words Stay here and then disappeared
into the darkness, leaving Dee in the company of the two silent guards.
Dee looked around. Even in the shadowy half-light, he could see that the
hallway was bare. There was no furniture on the tiled floor, there were no
pictures or mirrors on the walls, no curtains on the windows. He knew that
there were houses like this scattered across the world, homes to those few
Dark Elders who liked to walk in the world of men, usually creating mischief.
Though they were extraordinarily skilled and dangerous, their powers were
extremely limited because of the proliferation of iron in the modern world,
which served to dull their magical energies. In the way that lead was
poisonous to humans, iron, the metal of mankind, was deadly to the Elder
Race. Dee knew, even without looking, that there would not be a scrap of that
particular metal in this house. Everything would be made of gold or silver,
even down to the door handles and the taps in the bathrooms.
The Dark Elders valued their privacy; their preference was for quiet,
out-of-the-way places small islands, patches of desert, countries like
Switzerland, portions of the former Soviet Union, the arctic reaches of
Canada, Himalayan temples and the Brazilian jungle. When they chose to live
in cities like this one, their houses were secured behind walls and wire, the
grounds patrolled by armed guards and dogs. And if anyone was lucky or
foolish enough to actually reach the house, they would encounter older,
darker and more lethal guards.
This way.
Dee was pleased that he d managed to control his fright at the sound of
Senuhet s voice; he hadn't heard the man return. Would they go up or down? he
wondered. In his experience those of the Elder Race fell into two neat
categories: those who preferred to sleep on roofs and those who preferred
basements. The Morrigan was a creature of attics and roofs.
Senuhet stepped into a puddle of light and Dee noted now that his eyes were
painted with black kohl, the top lid completely blackened, two horizontal
lines running from the corners of his eyes to his ears. Three vertical white
lines were painted on his chin, beneath his lips. He led Dee to a concealed
door directly under the broad staircase and opened it with a password in the
language that the boy king Tutankhamen would have spoken. Dee followed the
figure into a pitch-black corridor and stopped when the door clicked shut
behind them. He heard the man moving ahead of him, then his footsteps
clicking on stairs.
Down. Dee should have guessed that the Dark Elder the Morrigan had sent him
to see would be a creature of basements and tunnels. I'll need light, he
said aloud. I don't want to fall down the stairs in the dark and break my
