Flamel said suddenly.
“I don’t hear anything,” Josh said grimly.
Sophie was just about to agree with him when she heard the sound. And she suddenly felt the hairs on her arms prickle and rise. Low and lonely, the noise hovered just at the edge of her hearing. It was like a breeze, one moment sounding soft and gentle, the next louder, almost angry. A peculiar odor wafted into the car.
“What is that smell?” Josh asked.
“Smells like spicy oranges,” Sophie said, breathing deeply.
“Pomegranates,” Nicholas Flamel said.
And then the wind came.
It howled across the bay, warm and exotic, smelling of cardamom and rosewater, lime and tarragon, and then it raced along the length of the Golden Gate Bridge, plucking the birds off the struts, lifting them off the cars, pulling them out of the air. Finally the pomegranate-scented wind reached the SUV. One moment the car was surrounded by birds; the next, they were gone, and the car was filled with the scents of the desert, of dry air and warm sand.
Sophie hit a button and the scarred and pitted window jerked down. She craned her neck out the SUV, breathing in the richly scented air. The huge flock of birds was being pulled high into the sky, borne aloft on the breeze. When one escaped—one of the big Dire-Crows, Sophie thought—it was quickly caught by a tendril of the warm breeze and pushed back into the rest of the flock. From underneath, the mass of birds looked like a dirty cloud…and then the cloud dispersed as the birds scattered, leaving the sky blue and clear again.
Sophie looked back along the length of the bridge. The Golden Gate was completely impassable; cars were pointed in every direction, and there had been dozens of minor accidents, which blocked the lanes…and of course, effectively prevented anyone from following them, she realized. Every vehicle was spattered and splotched with white bird droppings. She looked at her brother and saw with a shock that there was a tiny smear of blood on his bottom lip. She pulled a tissue from her pocket. “You’re cut!” she said urgently, licking the edge of the tissue and dabbing at her twin’s face.
Josh pushed her hand away. “Stop. That’s disgusting.” He touched his lip with his little finger. “I must have bit it. I didn’t even feel it.” He took the tissue from his sister’s hand and rubbed his chin. “It’s nothing.” Then he smiled quickly. “Did you see the mess the birds left back there?” Sophie nodded. He made a disgusted face. “Now,
that
is going to smell!”
Sophie leaned back against the seat, relieved that her brother was fine. When she’d seen the blood she’d been truly frightened. A thought struck her and she turned around to look at Flamel. “Did you call up the wind?”
He smiled and shook his head. “No, I’ve no control over the elements. That skill rests solely with the Elders and a very few rare humans.”
Sophie looked at Scatty, but the Warrior shook her head. “Beyond my very limited abilities.”
“But you
did
summon the wind?” Sophie persisted.
Flamel handed Sophie back her phone. “I just phoned in a request,” he said, and smiled.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
“T urn here,” Nicholas Flamel instructed.
Josh eased his foot off the accelerator and turned the battered and scarred SUV down a long narrow track that was barely wide enough to accommodate the car. They had spent the last thirty minutes driving north out of San Francisco, listening to the increasingly hysterical radio reports as a succession of experts gave their opinions about the bird attack on the bridge. Global warming was the most commonly cited theory: the sun’s radiation interfering with the birds’ natural navigation system.
Flamel directed them north, toward Mill Valley and Mount Tamalpais, but they quickly left the highway and stuck to narrow two-lane roads. Traffic thinned out until there were long stretches where they were the only car in sight. Finally, on a narrow road
“I don’t hear anything,” Josh said grimly.
Sophie was just about to agree with him when she heard the sound. And she suddenly felt the hairs on her arms prickle and rise. Low and lonely, the noise hovered just at the edge of her hearing. It was like a breeze, one moment sounding soft and gentle, the next louder, almost angry. A peculiar odor wafted into the car.
“What is that smell?” Josh asked.
“Smells like spicy oranges,” Sophie said, breathing deeply.
“Pomegranates,” Nicholas Flamel said.
And then the wind came.
It howled across the bay, warm and exotic, smelling of cardamom and rosewater, lime and tarragon, and then it raced along the length of the Golden Gate Bridge, plucking the birds off the struts, lifting them off the cars, pulling them out of the air. Finally the pomegranate-scented wind reached the SUV. One moment the car was surrounded by birds; the next, they were gone, and the car was filled with the scents of the desert, of dry air and warm sand.
Sophie hit a button and the scarred and pitted window jerked down. She craned her neck out the SUV, breathing in the richly scented air. The huge flock of birds was being pulled high into the sky, borne aloft on the breeze. When one escaped—one of the big Dire-Crows, Sophie thought—it was quickly caught by a tendril of the warm breeze and pushed back into the rest of the flock. From underneath, the mass of birds looked like a dirty cloud…and then the cloud dispersed as the birds scattered, leaving the sky blue and clear again.
Sophie looked back along the length of the bridge. The Golden Gate was completely impassable; cars were pointed in every direction, and there had been dozens of minor accidents, which blocked the lanes…and of course, effectively prevented anyone from following them, she realized. Every vehicle was spattered and splotched with white bird droppings. She looked at her brother and saw with a shock that there was a tiny smear of blood on his bottom lip. She pulled a tissue from her pocket. “You’re cut!” she said urgently, licking the edge of the tissue and dabbing at her twin’s face.
Josh pushed her hand away. “Stop. That’s disgusting.” He touched his lip with his little finger. “I must have bit it. I didn’t even feel it.” He took the tissue from his sister’s hand and rubbed his chin. “It’s nothing.” Then he smiled quickly. “Did you see the mess the birds left back there?” Sophie nodded. He made a disgusted face. “Now,
that
is going to smell!”
Sophie leaned back against the seat, relieved that her brother was fine. When she’d seen the blood she’d been truly frightened. A thought struck her and she turned around to look at Flamel. “Did you call up the wind?”
He smiled and shook his head. “No, I’ve no control over the elements. That skill rests solely with the Elders and a very few rare humans.”
Sophie looked at Scatty, but the Warrior shook her head. “Beyond my very limited abilities.”
“But you
did
summon the wind?” Sophie persisted.
Flamel handed Sophie back her phone. “I just phoned in a request,” he said, and smiled.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
“T urn here,” Nicholas Flamel instructed.
Josh eased his foot off the accelerator and turned the battered and scarred SUV down a long narrow track that was barely wide enough to accommodate the car. They had spent the last thirty minutes driving north out of San Francisco, listening to the increasingly hysterical radio reports as a succession of experts gave their opinions about the bird attack on the bridge. Global warming was the most commonly cited theory: the sun’s radiation interfering with the birds’ natural navigation system.
Flamel directed them north, toward Mill Valley and Mount Tamalpais, but they quickly left the highway and stuck to narrow two-lane roads. Traffic thinned out until there were long stretches where they were the only car in sight. Finally, on a narrow road
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