Two guards raced into the foyer, drawn by the noise, and stopped abruptly at the sight of the ruined door and their colleague lying in a crumpled heap on the floor. One went for his weapon, the other for his radio… and a heartbeat later they were both unconscious on the floor as well. Aoife rubbed her hands together as she slipped her nunchaku back into her belt. “This could be fun.”

There was an explosion of sparks as Niten drove his short sword through the computer server and the cables in the small office behind the front desk. “Phones and Internet are down,” he announced.

Aoife laughed delightedly. “Good. We’ve got a few minutes before someone notices the door is missing and calls the police. Let’s find your brother.”

“If he’s still here,” Niten said quietly.

“Oh, he’s here,” Sophie said. She pressed her hand to her stomach. “I can feel him. He’s…” She jabbed her finger upward. “Upstairs.”

The smoke rising off the Swords of Power had turned foul, mixing into a dark miasma that hung in the air.

“Coatlicue is coming,” Dee said quietly, standing behind Josh. “Stay focused. Stay strong. You have been Awakened. You have learned the Magic of Water and the Magic of Fire. But these are not entirely practical magics. Soon you will know the rarest magic of all, the dark art of necromancy-and then there is nothing you cannot achieve. You will learn wonders. I did.”

The column of filthy smoke almost reached the ceiling. It was the color of mud streaked with rusty red. A rancid smell seeped into the room: the distinctive stink of serpents.

“Coatlicue…”

Josh tried to concentrate, but the serpent odor sickened him and the images of the snake-headed creature had returned. He wasn’t sure where the images were coming from-from the Flamels, maybe? Were they trying to distract him? They knew he was terrified of snakes. Dee had told him that Nicholas and Perenelle had caused his migraine and had probably been trying to control his thoughts. The doctor had protected him with what he called a Warding spell, and the moment he’d activated it, all traces of the terrible headache and the stomach-churning nausea had vanished, so he’d obviously been right about the Flamels attacking Josh. But what Josh didn’t understand was why? The only reason he could come up with was that they didn’t want him to become a necromancer, and he was beginning to suspect that it was because they were afraid of what he might discover-about them, about the Elders.

Light.

And heat.

And flesh.

The mouthwatering scent of life.

The tingle of a powerful aura.

Calling to her. Calling, calling, calling.

Running and falling, crawling and walking, on limbs that had not been used in millennia, Coatlicue moved toward the light, toward freedom.

“Coatlicue…,” Josh rasped, his voice hoarse.