The Enchantress (The Secrets of the Immortal Nicholas Flamel)

I’d believe.”
    “What is going on here?” An Asterion, one of the huge, bull-headed guards, pushed through the gathering crowds and stepped in close—too close to Virginia—enveloping them in a strong farmyard odor of meat and manure.
    Virginia didn’t turn to look at the creature. “You. Get away from me,” she ordered.
    The Asterion’s huge mouth opened and closed in shock. No humani had ever spoken to him like that before.
    Virginia ignored him and glared at the English Magician. “Am I married, do I have children? Siblings, perhaps? Parents? What is my favorite tea? Which ice cream gives me a rash?”
    “Virginia?” Dee murmured, looking around. People had started to gather in a semicircle.
    “You know nothing about me because you’ve never even asked. And that’s because you . . . simply . . . never . . . cared.” She emphasized the last three words by poking him in the chest.
    The Asterion stepped in, hand falling to the whip attached to his side. “Let’s break this up. You are causing a disturbance.”
    Virginia finally glanced sidelong at the bull-headed creature. “If you try to use that whip,” she said, “you will regret it.”
    The beast rumbled a laugh. “Threatened by a humani girl. What is the world coming to?”
    With a flick of her wrist Virginia turned him to stone.
    A low moan ran around the market square and Virginia focused once more on Dee. “It doesn’t bother you that these people are enslaved?”
    Dee looked at the people milling about. “No.”
    “And why not?”
    “They’re not my people, for a start,” The doctor grinned. He watched as an orderly line began to form, people coming up to tap on the stone statue that moments ago had been a soldier, first with their fingers, and then with coins or blades, testing it. They marveled at the level of detail on the statue, the creases in his leather uniform, the stone beads of perspiration on his forehead. They were awed by the huge brown eyes still moving in the statue’s face.
    The circle around Virginia and Dee grew larger as the story of what had just happened raced through the marketplace.
    “Look at them,” Virginia snapped. “These
are
your people. They are humans. Not Elders, not Next Generation, nor some hybrid monsters or Changelings. They are human. Just like you. And if you tell me that they are not just like you, then I am going to smack you or turn you to stone. Or both.”
    Dee closed his mouth without a word.
    “I was an orphan, living wild and alone in a primeval forest. I had no one. No friends, no family, nothing. But I was free. And I learned to value and treasure freedom. All through my long immortal life I have fought for freedom.”
    “So when you wanted a world from me . . .”
    “It was not what you imagined. I did not want a place where I would rule as a dictator. I wanted to create a place that was truly free.”
    “You should have told me,” Dee suggested.
    “You would have laughed at me—and you’d have regretted that,” Virginia promised.
    A troop of Asterion led by a scarred anpu jogged into the square, drawn by the crowd. They carried whips and clubs and started pushing their way through, roughly shoving the people aside. Since the civil unrest had begun, Anubis had banned all humani gatherings.
    The anpu leader spotted the people gathered before the Asterion statue and, puzzled, slowed to look at it. He’d been through this square on patrol less than an hour ago, and there hadn’t been a statue there. Also, he’d never seen a carving of one of the bull-headed warriors: why would someone create a statue of a beast? It wasn’t until he was within a few feet of the gray stone that he suddenly recognized the brutal features. It was one of his own men. He looked into his face . . . and huge terrified bovine eyes moved, silently pleading.
    Shaken, the anpu commander staggered back and raised his closed fist. The Asterion troop fell into battle formation around him in a tight circle, spears and swords facing outward. The anpu’s fingers trembled as he scrabbled to lift a horn off his belt. He put the horn to his lips and blew to summon help.
    Nothing happened.
    Puzzled, he shook the horn and tried again. No sound came out.
    He turned as a slender female humani stepped forward, lifted her hat and handed it to the old man at her side. She held a wooden flute pressed to her pursed lips, but the anpu could hear nothing. He dropped the horn and reached for his kopesh.