The Enchantress (The Secrets of the Immortal Nicholas Flamel)

shrill, high-decibel shrieking echoed through the late-afternoon air. One of the men, bigger and more muscular than the others, pressed his hands to his ears.
    “I hate parrots,” Prometheus grumbled. “Noisy, filthy—”
    “Poor things; they’re upset.” Nicholas Flamel didn’t let the Elder finish his complaint. His nostrils flared as he breathed deeply. “They sense the auras in the air.”
    Prometheus dropped a heavy hand on the Alchemyst’s shoulder. “I’ve nearly been eaten by a seven-headed sea monster. I’m a little upset myself, but you don’t hear me screaming about it.”
    The third man, slender and black-suited, with delicate Japanese features, looked up into Prometheus’s broad lined face. “No, but you
will
grumble about it for the rest of the day.”
    “If we survive the rest of the day,” Prometheus muttered. A parrot flew by, close enough to ruffle the Elder’s graying hair, and a spatter of sticky white appeared on the big man’s checked shirt. His face wrinkled into a grimace of disgust. “Oh, great—that’s just perfect! Could this day get any worse?”
    “Will you three be quiet!” the woman snapped. She pushed a coin into the slot beneath the blue metal viewing binoculars, then tilted them toward the island of Alcatraz, which lay directly ahead of them across the bay. She turned the wheel and the buildings swam into focus.
    “What do you see?” Nicholas asked.
    “Patience, patience.” Perenelle shook her head. Her long hair had shaken loose from its braid, and shimmered black and silver across her back. “Nothing unusual. There’s no movement on land and I can see nothing in the water. There are no birds in the air over the island.” She stepped away from the binoculars and allowed her husband to take her place. She stood thinking for a moment and frowned. “It’s too quiet.”
    “Calm before the storm,” Nicholas muttered.
    Prometheus leaned his massive forearms on the wooden rail and looked across the bay. “And yet we know those cells are full of monsters, and Machiavelli and Billy along with Dee and Dare are there. Mars, Odin and Hel must be there by now. . . .”
    “Wait,” Nicholas said suddenly. “I see a boat. . . .”
    “Who’s driving?” Prometheus asked.
    Nicholas turned the big metal binoculars and focused on a small craft that had appeared from behind the island, white waves foaming in its wake.
    Niten climbed onto the lower rail of the wooden fence and leaned forward, hands shading his brown eyes. “I can see one person in the boat. It’s Black Hawk. He’s alone. . . .”
    “So where is everyone else?” Prometheus wondered aloud. “Is he fleeing?”
    “No, this is Black Hawk. . . .” Niten stopped the Elder before he could finish the thought. “Do not dishonor his name.” He shook his head firmly. “Ma-ka-tai-me-she-kia-kiak is one of the bravest warriors I’ve ever encountered.”
    The three immortal humans and the Elder watched the boat bounce over the waves, heading toward the shore.
    “Wait . . .,” the Alchemyst said suddenly.
    “Is there something in the water?” Niten asked.
    Though the binoculars, Nicholas could see a dozen seal-like heads bobbing on the surface of the waves surrounding the boat. He squinted to get a better look. Though his eyes were aging, he could clearly see that the heads belonged to green-haired young women who were beautiful until they opened their mouths to reveal piranha-like teeth.
    “Seals?” Prometheus asked.
    “There are Nereids in the water,” he announced. “And more are coming.”
    Soon the boat was close enough that the group on the pier could all see the creatures surrounding it. They watched in silence as one rose out of the sea and attempted to climb aboard. The stocky copper-skinned immortal nudged the boat to one side and the hull of the craft slammed into the fish-tailed creature, sending her crashing back into the water. Black Hawk turned the boat in a tight circle, almost tipping it over, bringing it around to head back into the group of Nereids, driving it directly toward them. Water foamed as they scattered.
    “He’s deliberately engaging the Nereids,” Niten said. “He’s keeping them away from the island.”
    “Which means Mars and the others must be in trouble,” Prometheus said. The big Elder turned to Nicholas. “We have to help them.”
    Nicholas looked at Perenelle. “What do you think we should do?”
    The Sorceress’s face lit up with a