The Warlock by Michael Scott

Author:Michael Scott [Scott, Michael]
Language: eng
Format: epub, pdf
Tags: Legends; Myths; Fables, Social Science, Action & Adventure, Juvenile Fiction, Fantasy & Magic, General, Other, Visionary & Metaphysical, Folklore & Mythology
ISBN: 9780385735339
Publisher: Random House Digital, Inc.
Published: 2011-05-24T05:00:00+00:00

erenelle gently placed the green jade scarab on the center of Nicholas’s chest, then moved it slightly to the left until it was resting over his heart.

Tsagaglalal reached out and took the Alchemyst’s hands, left, then right, and arranged them on top of the jade beetle, almost completely covering it. Then she looked at the Sorceress. “Are you sure?” she asked.

“I am sure.”

“It is not always successful. It is dangerous.”

“Dangerous? What do you mean, dangerous?” Sophie asked in alarm. She was still holding the Sorceress’s hand, and she picked up a ghostly trickle of fear through their connection. It frightened her to know that the Sorceress was afraid. Although Perenelle’s head did not move, her eyes shifted to fix on Sophie’s face.

“If this process does not work, then Nicholas will die and I will have wasted an entire day of my life,” she said. “But I have to do this. I have no choice.” The Sorceress’s grip tightened on Sophie’s fingers. “And if it is successful, then we will have Nicholas for one more day.” A question flickered through Sophie’s mind … and Perenelle answered it. “Yes, it would make a huge difference.”

Tsagaglalal placed her left hand in Perenelle’s and then reached her right across the bed toward the young woman. “Perenelle will draw a little of our auras and channel them into the scarab, which in turn will release them into Nicholas. Think of it as a battery. So long as there is power in the scarab, then Nicholas will remain alive.”

Sophie placed her left hand in the old woman’s bony clawlike grip.

“It is painless,” Tsagaglalal continued. “And you are young; at least your aura will soon replenish.”

“And what about yours?” Sophie asked quickly.

“Even if it could, there is no need for mine to regenerate. My purpose in this Shadowrealm is almost done.” Her flint-gray eyes turned distant. “My tasks were to watch for you, and then to watch over you. Soon I will be able to rest in peace.”

Suddenly the temperature in the room plummeted to a bone-freezing chill. Sophie gasped with the shock. “Whatever you do,” Perenelle said, her breath puffing whitely with each word, “you must not break the circle until the scarab is charged with the power of our auras. Do you understand?”

Sophie nodded.

“Do you understand?” Perenelle asked again, more firmly. “If the process is incomplete, then Nicholas dies here now, and I will die tomorrow.”

“I understand,” Sophie said, her teeth starting to chatter. She looked down on the still body of Nicholas Flamel. His flesh was ashen, and a thin layer of frost crystals had formed around his nostrils and lips.

Perenelle’s ice-white aura swirled and billowed around her, and Sophie was abruptly aware of the threads of silver—her silver—woven through it. She looked down to find that her aura had formed into protective gauntlets over her hands where she clutched Tsagaglalal and the immortal woman’s fingers.

The Sorceress closed her eyes. “And so it begins,” Perenelle said.

Sophie felt her silver aura bloom, and the wash of heat took her by surprise.

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