“Too many,” the Alchemyst whispered. He sat back into the shadows, and the passing streetlights painted his wet eyes sulfurous yellow. “I have forgotten my father’s face and the sound of my mother’s voice, but I remember the name and face of every twin, and not a day goes by that I do not think of them and regret their loss.” And then the hand holding the black bladed knife jabbed out of the gloom at Sophie and Josh. “But every mistake I made, each failed Awakening, gradually and inexorably led me to these, the real twins of legend. And this time, I have no doubts.” His voice rose, becoming harsh and raw. “And if they are trained in the elemental magics, then they will be able to stand against the Dark Elders. They will give this world a chance of survival in the battle to come. And then all the deaths and lost lives will not have been in vain.” He leaned forward out of the shadows and glared at Gilgamesh. “Will you train them? Will you help them fight the Dark Elders? Will you teach them the Magic of Water?”

“Why should I?” Gilgamesh asked simply.

“You could help save the world.”

“I saved it before. No one was grateful. And it is in worse shape today than it has ever been.”

The Alchemyst’s smile turned feral. “Train them. Empower them. We will take back the Codex from Dee and his Dark Elders and reunite it with the last two pages. I will surrender the Book to the twins: you know there are spells within the Book of Abraham that could return this world to a paradise.”

The king leaned closer to the twins. “And there are spells within the Codex that could turn this world to a cinder,” he said absently. His finger began moving, pointing to each of them in turn as he repeated the ancient verse. “‘And the immortal must train the mortal and the two that are one, must become the one that is all.’” He sat back. “One to save the world, one to destroy it. But which one?”

The Witch’s memories battered at Sophie’s thoughts, random images leaking into her consciousness.

A tidal wave racing across a lush landscape, crashing into a forest, sweeping away everything before it…

A line of volcanoes erupting in sequence, tearing out huge chunks of landscape, the sea foaming white-hot against the red-black lava…

The skies boiling with storm clouds, raindrops dark with grit, snowflakes black with soot…

“I have no gift of foresight,” Flamel snapped. “But this I know to be certain truth: if the twins are not trained and cannot protect themselves, then the Dark Elders will take them, enslave them and use their incredible auras to open the gates to the Shadowrealms. The Dark Elders are missing the Final Summoning from the Codex, but once they have these pages, then they will be able to reclaim this earth again.”