The Enchantress (The Secrets of the Immortal Nicholas Flamel)

. . .” She pointed at the closed door. “They, whoever they are, think they’ve got it figured out, that we’re just pieces they can move around on their big cosmic chessboard and everything will work out the just way they planned it. They think we’re going to go along with everything, question nothing and just do as we’re told like good little boys and girls. They think we’ll destroy the earth!” She shook her head and the garden filled with the scent of vanilla. “And it’s not going to happen.”
    “It’s not?” Josh asked. He loved it when his sister got mad.
    “Not if we’re the twins of legend,” she said firmly.
    “I don’t want to fight you, Sophie,” Josh said quickly. He shuffled his feet. “The last few days . . . I don’t know what was going on. Dee . . . well, Dee just confused me. But I missed you. I really missed you.”
    “I know.” Sophie smiled through her tears. “You have no idea what I did to get back to you.”
    “Followed me to Alcatraz, for a start. How did you do that?”
    “It’s complicated. And remind me to tell you about Aunt Agnes.”
    Josh blinked. “I’m guessing she’s not Aunt Agnes.”
    “Oh, I think she is. And she is more, much, much more. She taught me that all the magics are equal, none more powerful that the other.”
    “Virginia taught me the Magic of Air,” Josh said shyly.
    “You like her, don’t you.”
    “She’s okay.”
    “You do like her!” Sophie’s smile faded. “I wish she were here now—I wish someone were here who could advise us what to do.”
    “We don’t need anyone, Sis,” Josh said. “We’ve never needed anyone else. We’re going to do what we think is right. Not what Isis and Osiris want or think they can force us to do. We’re powerful—maybe even more powerful than they know.”
    Sophie nodded in agreement. “What was it Osiris called us: ‘in this time and place, the most valuable and important people on this world.’ ”
    “Oh, I think we’re more important than that.” Josh grinned. “I think we’re another of the variables they’ve forgotten to account for.”
    “Variable and uncontrollable.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
    BILLY THE KID followed Machiavelli and Black Hawk down the narrow tunnel. Dirty white light from a glowing ball of energy shimmered off the wet walls and dripped off the ceiling. The air stank of dead fish and rotting seaweed.
    “This is just disgusting,” Billy muttered.
    “I’m inclined to agree with you,” Machiavelli said. “But I have been in worse places. It reminds me a little of . . .”
    “Don’t tell me. I really don’t want to know,” Billy grumbled. He took a step forward and sank up to his ankle in fetid mud. A stinking bubble burst, spattering his jeans with filth. “When this is over, I’m going to have to burn these boots. And these are my favorite boots.”
    “I like you, Billy,” Machiavelli said. “You are always so unfailingly optimistic. You’re assuming that we’re going to be alive at the end of this adventure so you can buy new boots.”
    “Well, I don’t know about you, but I’m not planning on dying, that’s for sure.” Billy’s teeth flashed in the gloom. “Black Hawk and I have been in some serious scrapes over the years.” He looked over the Italian’s shoulder and raised his voice. “I was just saying—”
    “I heard you, Billy,” Black Hawk said quietly. “In fact, I’m sure that everything on the island just heard you.”
    Billy shook his head. He jerked his thumb toward the ceiling. “Over that noise? I doubt it.” The roars, screams and cries of the assembled monsters overhead percolated down through the rocks. “But we should look on the bright side. At least they’re still on the island.”
    “We should only begin to worry when it gets quiet. Real quiet,” Black Hawk said. “That either means they’re creeping up on us or they’ve left the island.”
    “Impressive logic. Is that some Native American tracking lore?” Machiavelli asked.
    Black Hawk shook his head. “Common sense.” He stopped and pointed ahead. “There.”
    The Italian’s hand moved and the glowing ball of light drifted down the tunnel, where it illuminated a rectangular doorway. Unlike the rest of the walls, which were encrusted with seaweed, barnacles and mud, this section was scraped clean and showed the original irregular bricks used to build the tunnel.
    “This is the cave I was telling you about,” Black Hawk said.