Well, if Dee had captured the twins, it hadn’t been without a fight.

Machiavelli’s cell phone buzzed, startling him. Pulling it out of his inner pocket, he stared at the screen, immediately recognizing the overlong number and impossible area code. He took a deep breath before answering. “Yes?”

“Dee has failed.” Machiavelli’s Elder’s voice was little more than a thready whisper. He spoke in Late Egyptian, the language used in the New Kingdom over three thousand years ago.

Machiavelli responded in the formal Italian of his youth. “I’m watching the news. I see there’s a fire in London; I know that location is associated with two neutral immortals. I assume there is some connection to the two events.”

“Flamel and the twins were there. They escaped.”

“It looks like the location was defended; the television report is showing evidence of a fight-arrows, spears and crossbow bolts. Perhaps we should have given the English Magician more resources,” Machiavelli suggested carefully.

“Bastet was there.”

Machiavelli kept his face impassive; he despised the cat-headed goddess but knew she was close to his Elder master.

“And Cernunnos was tasked with helping the Magician.”

Machiavelli came slowly to his feet. “The Archon?” he asked, struggling to keep the shock out of his voice.

“And the Archon brought the Wild Hunt. I did not authorize this; none of us did. We do not want the Archons back in this world.”

“Who did?”

“The others,” the voice said shortly. “Dee’s masters and their supporters. This could work to our advantage; now that the Magician has failed, they must order his destruction.”

Machiavelli placed the phone on the table and hit the Speaker button. Straightening his suit jacket, he folded his arms across his chest and looked at the wall of television and computer screens. Most of the news channels had started to show video of the fire in North London. “Dee is no fool, he must know that he is in danger.”

“He does.”

Machiavelli placed himself in Dee’s position, wondering what he would do if the roles were reversed. “He knows he has to capture the twins and those pages,” he said decisively. “It is the only way to get back into his Elders’ good graces. He will be desperate. And desperate men do stupid things.”

The reporter was talking to an excitable bearded man, who was holding up one of the spearheads and waving it around.

“What do you want me to do?” Machiavelli asked.

“Is there any way you can help us locate Flamel and the twins in England before Dee does?”

“I do not see how…,” Machiavelli began.

“Why is Flamel in London? Why risk bringing the twins into the heart of Dee’s empire? We know he is trying to train the twins. So, who-amongst the Elders, Next Generation or immortals-could he be planning on meeting?”