“I will not need to.” Machiavelli’s smile turned icy. “I know the Flamels. I have spent centuries studying them-especially the woman.” Almost unconsciously, he rubbed his left hand, which bore a faint pattern of white scars, the reminders of their last encounter. “I can almost guarantee you that they will return to the island to try to stop us. It is their nature, and all men and women are slaves to their nature.”

Kukulkan’s feathered tail beat a gentle tattoo on the floor as he considered the idea. “Are you confident that you can defeat the Alchemyst and the Sorceress if they come back to Alcatraz?”

Machiavelli bit the inside of his cheek to keep a straight face. He knew he’d won. “The Flamels are weak and aging fast. There is a sphinx on the island that will drain their powers, and I can use some of the creatures already there to help me.” He leaned forward and lowered his voice, forcing the Elder to lean forward as well. It was a trick he had learned half a millennium previously. “Any help you could give us would, of course, be gratefully appreciated.”

Kukulkan nodded. “Of course. Yes, I can help.” His smile revealed his black forked tongue. Running his fingers through his white beard, he added, “there are some creatures I can call upon to assist you.”

“And what about me?” Billy asked softly.

“Go with the Italian,” Kukulkan snapped. “Maybe he can teach you some manners.”

“So you’re not going to try to kill me today…,” Billy teased.

“Billy!” Machiavelli glared at the American, who was in danger of irritating the Elder again.

“Not today,” Kukulkan whispered, “but someday, yes. I have a long memory and I’ll not forget what you did here.” The Elder stood and padded to the door, then stopped and turned his head at an impossible angle to look back at the American. “You can put the Macuahuitl back where you found it. And be careful with it; it is older than the humani.” With that he turned and strode out toward the field of tall grass. The lynx fell into step alongside.

Billy patted Machiavelli’s shoulder. “Well, I think that went really well, don’t you?”

The Italian stood and brushed off his ruined suit. “There is a lot I could teach you about negotiation.”

“I never negotiate,” Billy said firmly.

“A word of advice, my young friend: it is always a mistake to anger an Elder. All he said was that he was not going to kill you today.”