The creature’s mouth opened to reveal a maw of needle-sharp teeth. “I’ve not had breakfast yet.” The sphinx looked at Machiavelli. “Arrogance always tastes sweet, like chicken. If you will not give him to me, then let me buy him from you. I will give you a fortune for this humani.”

“How much of a fortune?” Machiavelli asked with a smile.

“Hey!” Billy said indignantly.

“How much do you want?” the sphinx asked seriously.

“I’m not for sale!” Billy snapped.

“We’ll talk about it later,” Machiavelli said to the sphinx. “We must hurry; time is moving on. Our masters want these creatures loose in the city by noon.”

The sphinx turned and padded away. “Go through these doors. I will meet you downstairs,” she said, and then Billy realized that the creature was too big to fit through the double doors. Her head turned at an unnatural angle and she flicked her long black tongue at Billy. He stuck out his tongue in return. “Like chicken…” She padded away, claws clicking on the stones.

“That wasn’t funny,” Billy hissed to the Italian. “You know these Elders and Next Generation have no sense of humor. She thought you were serious.”

“How do you know I wasn’t?” the Italian asked.

“I knew you were going to say that,” Billy said. He watched as Machiavelli stopped in the doorway and turned to look at the city across the bay. “Having second thoughts?” he asked.

Machiavelli shook his head. “Just taking a last look.” He turned to Billy. “Once we do this, nothing will ever be the same again. We will be outlaws.”

Billy the Kid grinned. “I’ve been an outlaw all my life. It’s not so bad.”

CHAPTER SIXTY-TWO

CHAPTER SIXTY-TWO

“Coatlicue…”

The word rippled through the spaces between the Shadowrealms.

“Coatlicue…”

The word vibrated and trembled, pulsed and throbbed.

“Coatlicue…”

A single voice, calling, calling, calling.

All she had left were dreams.

Dreams of a golden age.

Dreams of a golden time.

Of a time when she was beautiful.

Of a time when she was young.

Of a time when she ruled the world.

And now those dreams were disturbed.

“Coatlicue…”

Josh Newman took a deep breath and focused on the four swords, which Dee had arranged in a square on the floor. They were each glowing softly, steaming red and white, green and brown smoke into the air.

“Coatlicue…”

“All you have to do is to call her,” Dee had said. “There is a magic in names, a power in them. She will hear you and she will come. The unique combination of the swords and your powerful aura will draw her here.”

“And she will teach me necromancy?” Josh asked.