The Enchantress (The Secrets of the Immortal Nicholas Flamel #6) by Michael Scott Page B
Authors: Michael Scott
Tags: Magic
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the immortal remarked, then turned back to the Elder, eyeing him carefully. “Their arrival here was not a surprise. I get the impression that we are nearing the end of a plan that was laid down a long time ago.”
Osiris sat back in a chair that had been carved from a block of solid gold and steepled his hands before his face again. “You are very astute.”
“Underestimate me at your peril.” She smiled. “My Elder master did—and you know what happened to him.”
“I wonder if you would be so brave without your flute,” Osiris commented.
Virginia reached under her shirt and produced the simple wooden flute. She shook it out of its cloth bag and sunlight shivered across the spiral designs etched into the wood. Osiris stiffened, and she noted how his hand dropped to the sides of the chair. She guessed there was a weapon concealed in one of the armrests—a knife or throwing star, probably. Suddenly she tossed the flute at the Elder.
Osiris snatched the instrument out of the air—and then hissed as the flesh of his palm sizzled and smoked. He flung the flute toward the pool, but Virginia caught it, spun it once to make it sing and tucked it into its bag and back beneath her clothes in one smooth movement.
Osiris dropped to his knees and pushed his hand into the water. “You could have warned me,” he said.
“If I’d told you that you wouldn’t be able to hold it, would you have believed me?”
“Probably not,” he admitted.
“A demonstration is worth a thousand words.”
“I’ve come across such artifacts before,” Osiris told her. “Some are Earthlord or Archon. I’ve never been able to work out why the Elders cannot touch them. Do you know?”
“Yes, I do,” she said simply.
“But you’re not going to tell me?”
“No, I’m not.”
Osiris returned to the golden chair and sat down, his right hand dripping water on the white flagstones. “Miss Dare, what a revelation you are,” he murmured. “I suddenly realize that for centuries I have been dealing with the wrong humani agent. Dee was a fool—a useful fool, admittedly. But we should have been dealing with you.”
Virginia Dare shook her head. “You were always able to control the doctor. You would not have been able to control me.”
Osiris nodded. “Maybe so. But we would have dealt with you differently.”
“Honestly, you mean?”
“We were always honest with him,” the Elder said sincerely. “He was rarely as honest with us; you must know that.”
“Why do you need the twins?”
Osiris brought his burnt hand to his lips and licked at the wound. Brilliant blue eyes regarded her evenly. Then he suddenly grinned. “I could tell you, but then I would have to kill you,” he said.
“If you don’t tell me, I might kill you.” Virginia matched his smile once again.
“You could try.”
“I could. But you really don’t want me to,” Virginia said.
Sophie’s and Josh’s voices suddenly echoed through the house, and Osiris and Virginia turned toward the sound. The voices grew louder as the twins approached.
“Here’s what I think,” Virginia said quietly. “You need their auras. You need the power of Gold and Silver for something. Something spectacular. Am I right?”
“You are not wrong,” Osiris conceded.
“There’s only one thing troubling me,” she said.
Osiris’s face remained expressionless as he continued to lick his hand.
“Are you really their parents?”
“They are our children,” he said after considering his answer. “We have spent a lifetime preparing them for this.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Q
uetzalcoatl detested the damp. He was wearing a heavy wool three-piece suit he’d bought in London a century ago, and had wrapped himself in a three-quarter-length black leather coat with the high collar turned up. A patterned thermal scarf encircled his neck and covered the lower part of his mouth, and he wore a black fedora with a spray of feathers from his own tail in the band. His
Osiris sat back in a chair that had been carved from a block of solid gold and steepled his hands before his face again. “You are very astute.”
“Underestimate me at your peril.” She smiled. “My Elder master did—and you know what happened to him.”
“I wonder if you would be so brave without your flute,” Osiris commented.
Virginia reached under her shirt and produced the simple wooden flute. She shook it out of its cloth bag and sunlight shivered across the spiral designs etched into the wood. Osiris stiffened, and she noted how his hand dropped to the sides of the chair. She guessed there was a weapon concealed in one of the armrests—a knife or throwing star, probably. Suddenly she tossed the flute at the Elder.
Osiris snatched the instrument out of the air—and then hissed as the flesh of his palm sizzled and smoked. He flung the flute toward the pool, but Virginia caught it, spun it once to make it sing and tucked it into its bag and back beneath her clothes in one smooth movement.
Osiris dropped to his knees and pushed his hand into the water. “You could have warned me,” he said.
“If I’d told you that you wouldn’t be able to hold it, would you have believed me?”
“Probably not,” he admitted.
“A demonstration is worth a thousand words.”
“I’ve come across such artifacts before,” Osiris told her. “Some are Earthlord or Archon. I’ve never been able to work out why the Elders cannot touch them. Do you know?”
“Yes, I do,” she said simply.
“But you’re not going to tell me?”
“No, I’m not.”
Osiris returned to the golden chair and sat down, his right hand dripping water on the white flagstones. “Miss Dare, what a revelation you are,” he murmured. “I suddenly realize that for centuries I have been dealing with the wrong humani agent. Dee was a fool—a useful fool, admittedly. But we should have been dealing with you.”
Virginia Dare shook her head. “You were always able to control the doctor. You would not have been able to control me.”
Osiris nodded. “Maybe so. But we would have dealt with you differently.”
“Honestly, you mean?”
“We were always honest with him,” the Elder said sincerely. “He was rarely as honest with us; you must know that.”
“Why do you need the twins?”
Osiris brought his burnt hand to his lips and licked at the wound. Brilliant blue eyes regarded her evenly. Then he suddenly grinned. “I could tell you, but then I would have to kill you,” he said.
“If you don’t tell me, I might kill you.” Virginia matched his smile once again.
“You could try.”
“I could. But you really don’t want me to,” Virginia said.
Sophie’s and Josh’s voices suddenly echoed through the house, and Osiris and Virginia turned toward the sound. The voices grew louder as the twins approached.
“Here’s what I think,” Virginia said quietly. “You need their auras. You need the power of Gold and Silver for something. Something spectacular. Am I right?”
“You are not wrong,” Osiris conceded.
“There’s only one thing troubling me,” she said.
Osiris’s face remained expressionless as he continued to lick his hand.
“Are you really their parents?”
“They are our children,” he said after considering his answer. “We have spent a lifetime preparing them for this.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Q
uetzalcoatl detested the damp. He was wearing a heavy wool three-piece suit he’d bought in London a century ago, and had wrapped himself in a three-quarter-length black leather coat with the high collar turned up. A patterned thermal scarf encircled his neck and covered the lower part of his mouth, and he wore a black fedora with a spray of feathers from his own tail in the band. His
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