I ll not believe Scathach is dead until I see it for myself.
Agreed. Over the years there have been too many reports of her death. And
then she turns up! We need a body.
Dee climbed out of a mud-filled puddle; he suspected Machiavelli might have
deliberately pushed him into it. He shook water from his shoe. If Nidhogg
has her, then the Shadow is dead. We ve succeeded.
Dagon s fish eye swiveled down to look into the Magician s face. You
blinkered, arrogant fool! Something in the house frightened away
Nidhogg that s why it s running, and it can t be the Shadow because it s got
her. And remember, this is a creature beyond fear. Three Disir went into that
building and only one came out! Something terrible happened in there.
Dagon is right: this is a disaster. We need to completely rethink our
strategy. Machiavelli turned to his driver. I promised you that if the
Disir failed, then Scathach was yours.
Dagon nodded. And you have always kept your word.
You have been with me now for close to four hundred years. You have always
been loyal, and I owe you both my life and liberty. I free you from my
service, Machiavelli said formally. Find the Shadow s body and if she is
still alive, then do whatever you must do. Go now and be safe, old friend.
Dagon turned away. Then he stopped suddenly and looked back at Machiavelli.
What did you call me?
Machiavelli smiled. Old friend. Be careful, he said gently. The Shadow is
beyond dangerous, and she s killed too many of my friends.
Dagon nodded. He pulled off his shoes and socks to reveal three-toed webbed
feet. Nidhogg will head for the comfort of the river. Abruptly, Dagon s
tooth-filled mouth opened in what might have been a smile. And the water is
my home. Then he ran into the night, bare feet slapping the sidewalk.
Machiavelli glanced back toward the house. Dagon was right; something had
terrified Nidhogg. What had happened in there? And where were the other two
Disir?
Footsteps clattered on pavement and suddenly Josh Newman raced out of the
alleyway, the stone sword in his hand streaming wisps of gold fire. Glancing
neither left nor right, he ran around the destroyed car and followed the
telltale trail of car alarms set off by the monster s passing.
Machiavelli looked at Dee. I take it that was the American boy?
Dee nodded.
Did you see what he was holding? It looked like a sword, he said slowly. A
stone sword? Surely not Excalibur?
Not Excalibur, Dee said shortly.
It was definitely a gray stone blade.
It wasn't Excalibur.
How do you know? Machiavelli demanded.
Dee reached under his coat and pulled out a short stone sword, a match of the
weapon Josh was carrying. The blade was trembling, vibrating almost
imperceptibly. Because I have Excalibur, Dee said. The boy was holding its
twin, Clarent. We always suspected Flamel had it.
Machiavelli closed his eyes and raised his face to the sky. Clarent. No
wonder Nidhogg fled from the house. He shook his head. Could this night get
any worse?
Dee s cell buzzed again and both men jumped. The Magician almost snapped the
phone in two opening it. What? he snarled. He listened for a moment, then
closed the phone very gently, and when he spoke again, his voice was barely
above a whisper. Perenelle has escaped. She s free on Alcatraz.
Shaking his head, Machiavelli turned and walked down the alleyway, heading
back toward the Champs-Elys es. His question was answered. The night had just
gotten worse much worse. Nicholas Flamel frightened Machiavelli, but
Perenelle terrified him.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Fire magic. Disir. The name popped into her head, and suddenly Sophie knew
everything the Witch of Endor knew about the creatures. The Witch despised
them. I know who you are, she snapped, her eyes glowing an ugly silver.
Valkyries.
Even amongst the Elders, the Disir were different. They had never lived on
Danu Talis but had kept to the frozen northlands at the top of the world, at
home in the bitter winds and sleeting ice.
In the terrible centuries after the Fall of Danu Talis, the world had shifted
on its axis and the Great Cold had gripped most of the earth. From the north
and south ice sheets flowed across the landscape, pushing humani into the
thin unfrozen green belt that existed around the equator. Entire
civilizations vanished, devastated by changing weather patterns, disease and
famine. Sea levels rose, flooding the coastal cities, altering the landscape,
while inland the encroaching ice wiped away all traces of towns and villages.
The Disir soon discovered that their skills at surviving in the bitter
northern climate gave them a special advantage over races and civilizations
who could not cope with the deadly, never-ending winter. Gangs of savage
female warriors quickly claimed most of the north, enslaving the cities that
had escaped the ice. They ruthlessly destroyed anyone who stood against them,
and soon the Disir had a second name: Valkyries, the Choosers of the Dead.
Very quickly the Valkyries controlled a frozen empire that encompassed most
of the Northern Hemisphere. They forced their humani slaves to worship them
as gods and even demanded sacrifices. Uprisings were brutally suppressed. As
the Ice Age gripped harder, the Disir began to look farther south, setting
their sights on the struggling remnants of civilization.
Images tumbling and dancing in her head, Sophie watched as the reign of the
Disir was ended in a single night. She knew what had happened millennia past.
The Witch of Endor had worked with the repulsive Elder, Chronos, who could
move through time itself. It had been necessary to sacrifice her eyes in
order to see the twisting strands of time, but it was a sacrifice she had
never regretted. Scouring ten thousand years of time, she had chosen a single
warrior from each millennium, and then Chronos had dipped into each era to
pull the warriors back to the age of the Great Cold.
Sophie knew that the Witch had especially requested that her own
granddaughter, Scathach, be brought back to fight the Disir.
