Nicholas Flamel 2 - The Magician

Mint: just the merest suggestion.

Orange: no more than the vaguest hint.

Vanilla: little more than a trace.

Hidden behind small rectangular sunglasses, blue-black eyes opened wide and

his head swiveled, following the gossamer threads of scent through the vast

train station. He had them now!

The gray-haired older man, wearing black jeans and a scuffed leather jacket,

was striding down the station concourse directly toward him. There was a

small overnight case in his left hand. He was followed by the two teenagers,

alike enough to be brother and sister. The boy was taller than the girl, and

they were both wearing backpacks.

The young man snapped a quick picture with his cell phone camera and sent it

to Dr. John Dee. Although he had nothing but contempt for the English

Magician, there was no point in making an enemy of him. Dee was the agent of

the most dangerous of all the Elders.

Pulling the hood of his parka over his head, he turned away as the trio drew

level with him, and dialed his sister, who was waiting downstairs. It s

definitely Flamel and the twins, he murmured into the phone, speaking the

ancient language that had eventually become Gaelic. They re heading in your

direction. We ll take them when they get onto the Euston Road.

The young man in the hooded parka set off after the Alchemyst and the

American twins. He moved easily through the early-afternoon crowd, looking

like just another teenager, anonymous and unnoticed in his sloppy jeans,

scuffed sneakers and overlarge coat, his head and face concealed by the hood,

his eyes invisible behind the sunglasses.

Despite his form, the young man had never been remotely human. He and his

sisters had first come to this land when it was still joined to the European

continent, and for generations they had been worshipped as gods. He bitterly

resented being ordered about by Dee who was, after all, nothing more than a

humani. But the English Magician had promised the hooded boy a delectable

prize: Nicholas Flamel, the legendary Alchemyst. Dee s instructions were

clear; he and his sisters could have Flamel, but the twins must not be

touched. The boy s thin lips twisted. His sisters would take the boy and

girl, while he would have the honor of killing Flamel. A coal-black tongue

licked cracked dry lips. He and his sisters would feast for weeks. And, of

course, they would keep the tastiest morsels for Mother.

Nicholas Flamel slowed, allowing Sophie and Josh to catch up with him.

Forcing a smile, he pointed to the thirty-foot-tall bronze statue of a couple

embracing beneath the clock. It s called The Meeting Place, he said loudly,

and then added in a whisper, We re being followed. Flamel grasped Josh s

arm with iron-hard fingers. don't even think about turning around.

Who? Sophie asked.

What? Josh said tightly. He was feeling nauseated; his newly Awakened

senses were overwhelmed by the scents and sounds of the train station. The

light was so sharp he wished he had a pair of sunglasses to shield his eyes.

What? is the better question, Nicholas said grimly. He raised a finger to

point up to the clock, as if he were talking about it. I m not sure what it

is, he admitted. Something ancient. I felt it the moment we stepped off the

train.

Felt it? Josh asked.

A tingle, like an itch. My aura reacted to the aura of whoever whatever is

here. When you have a little more control of your own auras, you ll be able

to do the same.

Tilting her head back, as if she were admiring the latticework of the

metal-and-glass ceiling, Sophie slowly turned. Crowds swirled around them.

Most seemed to be locals, though there were plenty of tourists, many stopping

to have their photographs taken in front of The Meeting Place or the huge

clock. No one seemed to be paying them any particular attention.

What can we do? Josh asked. I can boost Sophie s powers .

No, Flamel snapped. You can only use your powers as an absolute last

resort. As soon as you activate your aura, it will alert every Elder, Next

Generation and immortal within a ten-mile radius, and here, just about every

immortal you encounter is allied to the Dark Elders. Also, in this land, it

could awaken others, creatures best left sleeping.

But you said we re being followed, Sophie protested. That means Dee knows

we re here.

Flamel urged the twins to the left, away from the statue, hurrying them

toward the exit. I would imagine there are watchers in every airport,

seaport and railway station across Europe. Although Dee might have suspected

that we were heading to London, the instant either of you activates your

aura, he ll know for certain.

And what will he do then? Josh asked, turning to look at Flamel. In the

harsh overhead light, the new lines on the Alchemyst s forehead and around

his eyes were clearly visible.

Flamel shrugged. Who knows what he is capable of doing? He is desperate, and

desperate men do terrible things. Remember, he was on top of Notre Dame. He

now has some inkling of your powers; he s also confirmed that you are the

twins of legend. He has to have you. The Alchemyst reached out and poked

Josh in the chest. Paper rustled. Beneath his T-shirt, in a cloth bag hanging

around his neck, Josh carried the two pages he d torn from the Codex. And,

above all else, he must have these pages.

They followed the signs for the Euston Road exit and were swept along by a

crowd of commuters heading in the same direction. I thought you said there

would be someone to meet us, Sophie said.

Saint-Germain said he d try and contact an old friend, Flamel muttered.

Maybe he couldn't get in touch.

They stepped out of the ornate redbrick station onto Euston Road and stopped

in surprise. When they d left Paris nearly three hours ago, the skies had

been cloudless, the temperature already creeping into the high sixties; but

in London it was raining hard, and the wind whipping down the road was cold

enough to make the twins shiver. They turned and immediately ducked back into

the shelter of the station.

And that was when Sophie saw him.

A boy in a green parka, with the hood pulled up, she said suddenly, turning

to Nicholas and concentrating fiercely on his pale eyes, knowing that if she

looked away, she would involuntarily glance at the young man who had been

hurrying after them. She could see him from the corner of her eye. He was

loitering close to a pillar, staring at the cell phone in his hand, fiddling

with it. There was something wrong about the way he was standing.