“There are as many ways to teach magic as there are teachers,” Perenelle said.

“I should go to him…,” Sophie began.

“You cannot. This is something he has to do alone.” Perenelle drew Sophie back to the table. “Sit; there is something we must do.”

Perenelle sat down across from Nicholas at the small kitchen table. Aoife had taken the third seat, facing Sophie. Niten sat on the couch where Sophie had slept earlier. He was slowly and methodically running a cloth along the length of his katana.

In the center of the table sat a carved wooden box.

Sophie looked closely at it. She was aware of a hint of exotic spices in the air, and she recognized one of the smells as jasmine, Aunt Agnes’s favorite perfume. And when she looked at the box, she realized she’d seen the triple spiral carved into the sides and the top of the box before. She had a sudden flash of Zephaniah seeing the same triple spiral carved into the glass walls of the Nameless City.

Sophie watched as Nicholas carefully lifted the lid and reached into the box to remove an object wrapped in a bag of finely woven grass and wicker.

One by one all of their auras started to spark and crackle, darting cinders of light around the room-green and white, silver and gray, and speckles of royal blue from Niten. Perenelle’s hair rose slightly off her shoulders, static snapping through it.

Perenelle picked up the box and the lid and set them on the ground, and the Alchemyst placed the grass-wrapped object in the center of the table. He began to tug at the twisted strands of grass, crackling threads of power crawling across his fingers.

“You might have seen this before,” Perenelle said to Aoife, and then she looked at Sophie. “Maybe you, too. Well, not you, but the Witch. In fact,” she added lightly, “you may know more about it than we do.”

Nicholas peeled apart the grass knots and the covering fell away to reveal an intricately beautiful crystal skull that was almost-but not quite-human. When the Alchemyst laid his hand on it, a slow wave of mint green light pulsed through the translucent crystal. Perenelle put her hand on top of his and the skull started to glow.

“Now you,” Nicholas said, looking at Aoife.

She looked at him with an expression of absolute disgust on her face. “I am not touching that abominable thing,” she said hoarsely.

“As you wish.” He looked at Sophie. “We need the strength of your aura…”

Numb with shock, Sophie felt as if all the air had been sucked from the room. She had seen this before…

Zephaniah was in the Nameless City again.

She was trying to protect her unconscious brother from the hordes of monsters that were gathering outside. Yet it was just as dangerous inside the library; all around her, the animated clay people moved and shuffled, threatening to crush her.