The Enchantress (The Secrets of the Immortal Nicholas Flamel)

in conversation, and Scathach could see the woman jabbing the English Magician in the chest with her finger as she made a point.
    Beyond the two immortals, on the other side of the square, standing still and silent before the prison walls, was row upon row of anpu and Asterion warriors, all armored and heavily armed, as if they were going up against troops rather than unarmed humans. Scathach’s long teeth bared in a vampire smile. This would be a battle worth fighting.
    Lights flared all along the top of the prison’s massive walls, illuminating the long lines of archers taking up position. She estimated a hundred, then two hundred. Scathach knew from experience that a good archer could fire up to fifteen arrows in a minute. The moment the first arrow left the bow, the next arrow would fly.
    A sigh ran through the crowd. No one moved, but the chanting grew louder.
    More lights flared and a figure appeared on the prison’s front wall. He was short and pale, with a slightly elongated face and a wisp of a long red mustache over his lips, dressed in a black robe that shimmered with oily light. He raised two pale arms and waited until silence gradually fell over the massive crowd. Then his voice boomed.
    “Humani of Danu Talis.”
    A murmur ran though the crowd. No one liked the term
humani;
it was an insult.
    “Humani of Danu Talis,” he repeated. “You know me. I am Ard-Greimne, and my word is law. You have placed yourselves in grave danger today. But there is still a chance to save yourselves. Go now, return to your homes, and you may live out the night. But if you stay here, your futures are not so certain. I do not have the power of foresight, but stand here before these walls and I can promise you pain and death. Is that what you want?”
    Someone in the crowd shouted, but was quickly silenced by those around him.
    “You may think you are many, but you are facing the finest warriors in the known world. Here are anpu and Asterion, here are berserkers and all the new hybrids who will one day replace you, doing those tasks you are incapable of doing.”
    Ard-Greimne fell silent, waiting for the crowd to disperse.
    “If you will not listen to me, perhaps you will listen to the one whose name you chant.”
    Ard-Greimne stepped to the side and a tall thin figure in a scorched white robe appeared. Even from a distance, his features were distinctive.
    The crowd howled his name. “Aten! Aten! Aten!” Their voices pulsed like a solid heartbeat, rolling on and on, showing no sign of stopping.

    Dr. John Dee turned to look at the crowd and found himself gazing directly into Scathach the Shadow’s grass-green eyes. In a day filled with surprises, this was just another to add to the growing list.
    She saw him notice her and stepped out of the crowd, tossing the hat aside, shrugging off the white robe, revealing her black shirt, black combat pants and steel-toed boots. She wore two short swords on her back, matching long knives slung low on her hips and a pair of nunchaku tucked into her belt.
    The people around her saw the transformation and howled, and word of her appearance flowed through the throng.
    “Have you come to kill me, Shadow?” Dee asked
    “Another time, perhaps,” Scathach answered coolly.
    The Magician extended a hand to Dare. “Virginia Dare, allow me to introduce to you the legendary Scathach the Shadow.”
    The two women eyed at one another and nodded. Then Virginia smiled. “I was expecting someone taller.”
    “I get that a lot.”
    “Are you here to rescue Aten?” Dee asked.
    Scathach shook her head. “I am here to see Ard-Greimne, the Elder.”
    “Why?” Dee asked.
    “I wanted to see for myself if he was as bad as people said he was.”
    Virginia looked at Scathach and then squinted up at the figure standing on the wall. “There is a resemblance in the cheekbones and chin,” she said. “He is related to you?”
    Scathach nodded.
    “Your brother?”
    “He is my father,” she whispered.
    And then the earthquake shook the entire island.

CHAPTER SIXTY-FOUR
    XOLOTL’S BACKWARD-FACING FEET made walking difficult and often impossible. His bare bones scraped the stones as he hobbled toward the mixed auras of the gathered Elders and immortal humani.
    He was looking forward to killing the Alchemyst. And even more exciting, Xolotl knew that if the Alchemyst was on Alcatraz, then his wife was around also. The Elder’s stomach rumbled at the thought. It would be a feast.
    Xolotl