The Warlock (The Secrets of the Immortal Nicholas Flamel #5) Read Free Page B

raised their guns.
    “Gentlemen, thank goodness you’re here.” The small gray-haired man stepped forward.
    “Stay where you are.”
    “I am Dr. John Dee, and I am the owner of this company, Enoch Enterprises.”
    “Put the swords on the ground, sir.”
    “I don’t think so. These are priceless antiques from my personal collection.” The Magician took another step forward.
    “Stay there! I don’t know you,” one of the officers said, “but I do know I don’t want anyone coming close to me holding a sword. Put the weapons on the ground and then move over here. And quickly,” he added, as a curl of foul smoke leaked out from between the lobby elevator’s closed doors.
    The last words the policemen heard came from the woman: “John, why don’t you do what the officer says?” Even as she was speaking, she was bringing her wooden flute to her lips. The two men only heard a single note before they dropped to the ground, unconscious. “And stop wasting time,” Virginia Dare snapped. She stepped over the bodies of the men, through a gaping hole where the main door to the building should have been and out into the street. “Let’s go.”
    “We’ll take the car.” Dee started toward Telegraph Hill but paused midstride, realizing that Josh had remained behind. The boy was standing over the two unconscious police officers in the foyer. “Come on, we have no time!”
    “You’re just going to leave them here?” Josh asked, clearly upset.
    Dee looked at Dare and then back at Josh. The two immortals nodded in unison.
    Josh shook his head. “I’m not leaving them. This whole building is about to collapse on top of them.”
    “We don’t have time for this …,” Dare began.
    “Josh.” Dee’s aura crackled around his body—his anger was palpable.
    “No.” Josh’s left hand fell onto the leather-wrapped hilt of the sword tucked into his belt. Immediately the rich citrus odor of oranges filled the ruined foyer and the stone blade pulsed with a slow steady heartbeat of dull crimson. Josh felt the shudder of heat flow up his left arm and across his shoulders and settle into the base of his neck. His fingers tightened around the familiar hilt: this was Clarent, the ancient weapon known as the Coward’s Blade.
    Memories gathered.…
    Dee, in the clothing of another era, running through a burning city, clutching a handful of books
.
    London, 1666
.
    Josh’s other hand dropped to the sword on his right hip. A chill seeped into his flesh and instantly he knew its name. This was Durendal, the Sword of Air, once carried by some of the finest knights the world had ever seen.
    New memories flickered and blossomed.…
    Two knights in shining silver and gold armor standing on either side of a fallen warrior, protecting him from the ravening beasts that circled in the shadows
.
    A raw burning rage settled into the pit of his stomach. “Carry them outside,” Josh commanded. “I won’t leave them here to die.”
    For a moment it looked as if the English doctor was about to challenge him, but then he nodded and his lips curled intoa smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Of course. You’re right. We could not leave them, could we, Virginia?”
    “I could,” she said.
    Dee glared at her. “Well, I could not.” He shoved his sword into his belt and went back into the building. “You have a conscience, Josh,” he said, bending to grab one of the officers under the arms. “Be careful of it: I’ve seen good men die because of their scruples.”
    Josh easily pulled the second officer across the marble floor and outside. “My father taught me and Sophie that we had to follow our hearts and do what we knew was right.”
    “He sounds like a good man.” Dee grunted. He was breathless with the effort of dragging the officer across the road. They laid out both men behind their police cruiser.
    “Maybe you’ll meet him someday,” Josh said.
    “I doubt it.”
    Virginia Dare had climbed into the limousine that was