At that moment the monster shrugged, still trying to free itself from the
building that encased it, and the blade missed, whistling dangerously close
to the unconscious Warrior s head. Edging higher on the monster s broad neck,
the woman gripped a clump of thick skin, leaned sideways across a huge
unblinking eye and jabbed the point of her sword at Scatty. Again the
creature moved and the sword bit into its arm, close to the claw wrapped
around the Warrior. The monster didn't react, but Josh saw how close the
blade had come to Scatty. The woman leaned down again, and this time, Josh
knew, she d hit the Warrior.
He had to do something! He was Scatty s only hope. He couldn't just stand
here and watch someone he knew get killed. He started running. Back at the
house, when he d slashed at the creature, nothing had happened, but when he d
plunged the sword point first into its thick hide
Holding Clarent in the two-handed grip Joan had taught him, Josh put on a
final burst of speed and raced up to the creature. He could feel the sword
humming in his hands just before he stabbed it into the monster s tail.
Instantly, heat flowed up through his arms and blossomed in his chest. The
air filled with the tart smell of oranges in the heartbeat before his aura
flared briefly golden and then faded to the same reddish-orange glow that was
streaming off the sword protruding from the creature s thick knobbled skin.
Josh twisted Clarent and pulled it free. In the grayish brown hide, the wound
burned bright red and immediately started to hardened into a black crust. It
took a moment for the sensation to travel through the creature s primitive
nervous system. Then the monster abruptly reared up on its hind legs, hissing
and squealing in agony. It wrenched itself free of the house, the sudden rain
of bricks, roof tiles and wooden beams sending Josh scrambling back, out of
harm s way. He hit the ground, covering his head as debris crashed about him.
He thought it would be just his luck to be killed by a roof tile. The
unexpected movement almost dislodged the woman on the monster s back.
Swaying, she dropped the war hammer and desperately grabbed at the creature s
back to prevent herself from being thrown down directly in front of it. Lying
on the ground, bricks raining around him, Josh watched as the thick black
crust began to spread out from the wound and creep up the monster s tail. It
reared again and then plowed right through the corner of the house and out
across the Champs-Elys es. Josh was relieved to see that Scatty s limp form
was still gripped in his front claws.
Taking a deep breath, Josh scrambled to his feet and snatched up the sword.
Instantly, he felt power buzz through his body, heightening every sense. He
stood swaying as raw power energized him; then he turned and raced after the
monster. He felt amazing. Even though it was still not quite dawn, he could
see clearly, though the colors were slightly off. He could smell the myriad
scents of the city through the rancid serpent-stink of the creature. His
hearing was so acute he could differentiate the sirens of the many different
emergency services; he could even distinguish individual cars. He could
actually feel the irregular indentations in the pavement beneath his feet
through the rubber soles of his sneakers. He waved the sword in the air
before him. It keened and hummed, and instantly, Josh imagined he could hear
distant whispers and make out words he could almost understand. For the first
time in his life, he felt truly alive: and he knew then that this was how
Sophie had felt when she d been Awakened. But whereas she d been frightened,
confused by the sensations he felt exhilarated.
He wanted this. More than anything else in the world.
Dagon padded into the alleyway, scooped up the Disir s fallen war hammer and
raced after the boy.
Dagon had seen the flare of the boy s aura and knew that it was indeed
powerful, though whether the boy and girl were the twins of legend was a
different matter. Obviously, the Alchemyst, and Dee, too, seemed convinced
that they were. But Dagon knew that even Machiavelli one of the most
brilliant humani he d ever associated with was unsure, and the brief glimpse
he d caught of the boy s aura wasn't enough to convince him either way. Gold
and silver auras were rare though not as rare as the black aura and Dagon had
encountered at least four sets of twins down through the ages with the sun
and moon auras, as well as dozens of individuals.
But what neither Dee nor Machiavelli knew was that Dagon had seen the
original twins.
He d been on Danu Talis at the very end, for the Final Battle. He d worn his
father s armor on that auspicious day, when all knew that the fate of the
island hung in the balance. Like everyone else, he d cowered in terror as
silver and gold lights blazed from the top of the Pyramid of the Sun in a
display of primal power. The elemental magics had lain waste to the ancient
landscape and sundered the island at the heart of the world.
Dagon rarely slept anymore; he didn't even possess a bed. Like a shark, he
could sleep and continue to move about. He rarely dreamed, but when he did,
the dreams were always the same: a vivid nightmare of those times when the
skies had burned with gold and silver lights and the world had ended.
He d spent many years in Machiavelli s service. He d seen both wonders and
terrors during those centuries, and together, they d been present for some of
the most significant and interesting moments in the earth s recent history.
And Dagon was beginning to think that this night might be one of the most
memorable.
Now, that s something you don't see every day, Dee muttered.
The Magician and Machiavelli watched Nidhogg burst through a building on the
left side of the Champs-Elys es, trample the trees that lined the street and
career across the road. It still held red-haired Scatty in its claws, and the
Disir was clinging to its back. The two immortals watched the huge swinging
tail turn a set of traffic lights into a mangled ruin as the creature darted
down another street.
It s heading for the river, Machiavelli said.
But what happened to the boy, I wonder? Dee mused aloud.
Maybe he got lost, Machiavelli began, or was trampled by Nidhogg. Or maybe
not, he added as Josh Newman stepped through the uprooted trees and out into
the broad road. He looked left and right, but there was no traffic, and he
didn't even glance at the police car badly parked against the curb. He darted
across the wide avenue, the sword in his hand streaming smoky gold threads
behind him.
The boy s a survivor, Dee said admiringly. Brave, too.
Seconds later, Dagon burst out of the side street, following Josh. He was
carrying a war hammer. Spotting Dee and Machiavelli in the car, he raised his
