In a stinking flurry of flapping wings, the sphinx appeared at the end of the corridor, huge lion paws scraping along on the floor. Crouching low, belly to the ground, the creature spread her eagle’s wings and screamed triumphantly in a language that predated the first Egyptian pharaoh. “You are mine, Sorceress. I will feast off your memories and then eat your bones.” The sphinx’s head was that of a beautiful woman, but her eyes were slit-pupiled and the tongue that waved in the air was long, black and forked. Closing her eyes, she threw back her head and drew in a deep shuddering breath. “But what’s this… what’s this?” Her tongue darted, tasting the air. She took a couple of steps down the corridor, claws clicking on stone. “How can this be? You are powerful… powerful indeed… too powerful.” And then she stopped, her flawless face creasing into an ugly frown. “And strong.” Her voice faltered. “Stronger than you should be.”

Perenelle had half turned to make a dash for the stairs, but then she suddenly stopped and turned back to face the sphinx. The corners of her eyes crinkled and the tiniest of smiles curled her lips, turning her face cruel. Bringing her hand up to her face for a closer look, she gazed at it in wonder as a glasslike glove grew over each finger and down into her palm. The glass turned from transparent to translucent and then opaque. “Why, of course I am,” she whispered. And then she laughed aloud, the shocking sound echoing off the walls. “Thank you, Nicholas; thank you, Sophie and Josh!” she shouted.

The woman’s smile frightened the sphinx, but her laughter terrified her. The creature took a tentative step forward, then backpedaled. Despite her fearsome appearance and appalling reputation, the sphinx was a coward. She had grown up in a time of monsters, and it was fear and cowardice that had kept her alive through the millennia.

The Sorceress faced the creature and brought her palms together, thumb against thumb, fingers touching. Suddenly, her aura blazed white light, bleaching the entire corridor of color, and then crackled around her in a protective oval of harshly reflective mirrorlike crystals. Every crumbling brick, each rusting pipe, the mold-spattered ceiling, the tattered cobwebs and the crumbling metal cell-door bars were picked out in exquisite detail. Long angular shadows stretched down the corridor toward the sphinx, though Perenelle herself cast no shadow.

The woman flung out her right hand. A globe of white light that almost looked like a snowball burst from her palm and bounced once, twice on the floor, bounced again and then rolled to a stop between the filthy paws of the sphinx.

“And what am I supposed to do about this?” the creature snarled. “Catch it in my mouth and bring it back to you?”

Perenelle’s smile was terrifying as her hair rose in a dark cloud behind her.