gray smoke curled off her fingers; then they snapped alight. When she closed
her hand into a fist, the fire extinguished.
I thought Josh swallowed hard and tried again I didn't know you d even
started to learn about fire.
Started and finished.
Finished?
All done. She brushed her hands together; sparks flew.
Chewing his toast, Josh looked at his sister critically. When she d first
been Awakened and when she d learned the Magic of Air, he d seen the
differences in her immediately, especially around her face and eyes. He d
even noted the new subtle shading of her eye color. He couldn't see any
changes this time. She looked the same as before but she wasn't. And the Fire
magic distanced her even further from him. You don't seem any different, he
said.
I don't feel any different either. Except warmer, she added. I don't feel
cold.
So this was his sister now, Josh thought. She looked just like any other
teenager he knew. And yet she was unlike anyone else on the planet: she could
control two of the elemental magics.
Maybe that was the scariest part of all this: the immortal humans people like
Flamel and Perenelle, Joan, flamboyant Saint-Germain and even Dee: they all
looked so ordinary. They were the type of people you would pass in the street
and not give a second glance to. Scathach, with her red hair and grass green
eyes, was always going to attract attention. But she wasn't human.
Did it did it hurt? he asked, curious.
Not at all. She smiled. It was almost disappointing. Francis sort of
washed my hands with fire oh, and I got this, she said, holding up her right
arm and allowing her sleeve to fall back to reveal the design burned into her
flesh.
Josh leaned forward to look closely at Sophie s arm. It s a tattoo, he
said, envy clearly audible in his voice. The twins had always talked about
getting tattoos together. Mom is going to freak when she sees that. Then he
added, Where did you get it? And why?
It s not ink, it was burned on with fire, Sophie explained, twisting her
wrist to show off the design.
Josh suddenly caught her hand and pointed at the red dot surrounded by the
gold circle on the underside of her wrist. I ve seen something like that
before, he said slowly, and frowned, trying to remember.
His twin nodded. It took me a while, but then I remembered that Nicholas has
something like it on his wrist, Sophie said. A circle with a cross through
it.
That s right. Josh closed his eyes. He d first noted the small tattoo on
Flamel s wrist when he d started working for him in the bookshop, and though
he d wondered why it was in such an unusual place, he d never asked about it.
He opened his eyes again and looked at the tattoo, and he suddenly realized
that Sophie was branded by magic, marked as someone who could control the
elements. And he didn't like it. What do you need it for?
When I want to use fire, I press on the center of the circle and focus my
aura. Saint-Germain called it a shortcut, a trigger for my power.
I wonder what Flamel needs a trigger for, Josh wondered aloud.
The kettle pinged and Sophie turned back to the sink. She had asked herself
the same question. Maybe we can ask him when he wakes up.
Any more toast? Josh asked. I m starving.
You re always starving.
Yeah, well, the sword training made me hungry.
Sophie stuck a fork through a slice of bread and held it out in front of her.
Watch this, she said. She pressed on the underside of her wrist and her
index finger burst into flame. Frowning hard, concentrating, she focused the
wavering flame into a thin blue fire and then ran it over the bread, gently
toasting it. Do you want this done on both sides?
Josh watched with a mixture of fascination and horror. He knew from science
class that bread toasted around 310 degrees Fahrenheit.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
M achiavelli was sitting in the back of his car alongside Dr. John Dee.
Facing them were the three Disir. Dagon sat in the driver s seat, eyes
invisible behind his wraparound glasses. The car smelled faintly of his sour
fishy odor.
A cell phone buzzed, breaking the uncomfortable silence. Machiavelli flipped
it open without looking at the screen. He closed it again almost immediately.
All clear. My men have pulled back and there is a security cordon in place
around all the connecting streets. No one will accidentally wander into the
area.
Whatever happens, do not enter the house, the Disir with violet eyes said.
Once we free Nidhogg, we shall have very little control until it feeds.
John Dee leaned forward, and for a moment, it looked as if he was about to
tap the young woman on the knee. The look on her face prevented him. Flamel
and the children must not be allowed to escape.
That sounds like a threat, Doctor, the warrior sitting on the left said.
Or an order.
And we do not like threats, her sister sitting to the right added. And we
don't take orders.
Dee blinked slowly. It is neither a threat nor an order. Simply a request,
he said eventually.
We are here only for Scathach, the warrior with violet eyes said. The rest
of them are not our concern.
Dagon climbed out of the car and opened the door. Without a backward glance,
the Valkyries stepped out into the first glimmers of predawn light, spread
out and moved slowly down the back street. They looked like three young women
coming home from an all-night party.
Dee shifted position, taking the seat facing Machiavelli. If they succeed, I
will ensure that our masters know that the Disir were your idea, he said
pleasantly.
I m sure you will. Machiavelli didn't look at the English Magician and
continued to follow the progress of the three girls as they walked down the
street. And if they fail, you can tell our masters that the Disir were my
idea, and you can absolve yourself of any blame, he added. Shifting the
blame: I believe I originally came up with that concept about twenty years
before you were born.
I thought you said they were bringing Nidhogg? Dee asked, ignoring him.
Niccol Machiavelli tapped the window with his manicured fingernails. They
did.
As the Disir moved down the narrow, cobbled, high-walled alley, they changed.
The transformation occurred as they passed through a patch of shadow. They
entered as young women, dressed in soft leather jackets, jeans and boots and
a moment later they were Valkyries: warrior maidens. Long coats of ice white
chain mail fell to their knees, knee-high metal boots with spiked toes
covered their feet, and they wore heavy leather-and-metal gauntlets on their
hands. Rounded helmets protected their heads and masked their eyes and noses
but left their mouths free. White leather belts around their waists held
their sword and knife sheaths. The Valkyries each carried a wide-bladed sword
in one hand, but each also had a second weapon strapped to her back: a spear,
a double-headed axe and a war hammer.
They stopped before a rotting green gate set into the wall. One of the
Valkyries turned to look back at the car and pointed a gloved hand at the