with the palm of her hand and was immediately able to distinguish gossamer
threads of voices, whispered songs, distant organ music. She lifted her hand
and the sounds in her head faded. It s a church, she said, then frowned.
But it s a new church modern, late nineteenth century, early twentieth. But
it s built on a much, much older site.
Flamel paused at the wooden door and looked over his shoulder. In the dim
overhead light, his features were suddenly sharp and angular, disturbingly
skull-like, his eyes completely in shadow. There are many churches in
Paris, he said. Though there is only one, I believe, that matches that
description, he added, reaching for the door handle.
Hang on a second, Josh said quickly. don't you think there could be some
sort of alarm?
Not at all, Nicholas Flamel'said confidently. Who would put an alarm in a
church? He pulled the door open.
Immediately an alarm began to warble, the sound echoing off the flagstones
and stone walls. Red security lights began to strobe.
Let s get out of here! Flamel'shouted over the shrieking alarm.
Sophie and Josh followed close behind. Scatty took up the rear, moving slowly
and grumbling with every step.
The door opened onto a narrow corridor that led to a second door. Without
pausing, Flamel pushed through the second door and immediately another alarm
began to shriek. He turned left into a huge open space that smelled of old
incense and wax. Banks of lit candles shed a golden yellow light over walls
and floor, and these, combined with the security lights, revealed a pair of
enormous doors with the word EXIT above them. Flamel raced toward it.
don't touch , Josh started to say, but Nicholas Flamel grabbed the door
handles and pulled hard.
A third alarm went off and a red light above the door began to wink on and
off.
I don't understand why is it not open? Flamel asked. This church is always
open. He turned and looked around. Where is everyone? What time is it? he
asked.
How long does it take to travel from one place to another through the
leygate? Sophie asked.
It s instantaneous.
Sophie looked at her watch and did a quick calculation. Paris is nine hours
ahead of Ojai? she asked.
Flamel nodded.
It s now about four a.m.; That'swhy the church is closed.
The police will be on their way, Scatty said glumly. She reached for her
nunchaku. I hate fighting when I m not feeling well, she muttered.
What do we do now? Josh demanded.
I could try and blast the doors apart with my wind magic, Sophie suggested.
I forbid it, Flamel'shouted, his face shadowed and painted in shades of
crimson by the light. He turned and pointed across rows of wooden pews to an
ornate altar picked out in a tracery of white marble. Candlelight hinted at a
mosaic in glittering blues and golds in the dome over the altar. This is a
national monument; I'll not let you destroy it.
Where are we? the twins asked together, looking around the building. Now
that their eyes had adjusted to the gloom, they could make out the outlines
of small side altars, statues in nooks and banks of candles. They could
distinguish the columns soaring high into the shadow overhead. The building
was huge.
This is the basilica of Sacr -Coeur.
Sitting in the back of his limousine, Niccol Machiavelli tapped coordinates
into his laptop and watched a high-resolution map of Paris wink into
existence on the screen. Paris was an incredibly ancient city. Its first
settlement went back more than two thousand years, though there had been
humans living on the island in the Seine for generations before that. And
like many of the earth s oldest cities, it had been sited where groups of
leylines met.
Machiavelli hit a keystroke, which laid down a pattern of leylines over the
map of the city. He knew he needed a line that connected with the United
States. After eliminating all the lines that didn't run east to west, he
finally managed to reduce the number of possibilities to six. With a
perfectly manicured fingernail, he traced two lines that directly linked the
west coast of America to Paris. One ended at the great cathedral of Notre
Dame, the other in the more modern but equally famous basilica of the
Sacre -Coeur in Montmartre.
But which line had Flamel used?
Suddenly the Parisian night was broken by a series of howling alarms.
Machiavelli hit the control for the electric window and the tinted glass
whispered down. Cool night air swirled into the car. In the distance, visible
over the rooftops on the opposite side of the Place du Tertre, the lights
around Sacre -Coeur painted the imposing domed building in stark white light.
Red alarm lights pulsed around the building That one.
Machiavelli s smile was terrifying. He called up a program on the laptop and
waited while the hard drive spun.
keyboard as he typed:
going to break that password. It wasn't one of his better-known books.
A rather ordinary-looking text document appeared, written in a combination of
Latin, Greek and Italian. At one time, magicians had had to keep their spells
and incantations in handwritten books called grimoires. Machiavelli had
always used the latest technology. These days, he preferred to keep his on
his hard drive.
Now he just needed a little something to keep Flamel and his friends busy .
I hear sirens, Josh said, his face pressed against the wooden door.
There are twelve police cars headed this way, Sophie said, her head tilted
to one side, eyes closed as she listened intently. Her brother was suddenly
reminded of the extent of his sister s Awakened powers. All of her senses
were enhanced; she could see and hear beyond the range of ordinary humans.
Ordinary humans like him.
We cannot be captured by the police, Flamel'said desperately. We have no
passports, no money and no alibi. we've got to get out of here!
How? the twins asked simultaneously.
Flamel'shook his head. There has to be another entrance , he began, and
then stopped, nostrils flaring.
Josh watched both Sophie and Scatty react to something he could not smell.
What what is it? he demanded, and then he suddenly caught the faintest
