The Italian leaned toward the phone, his smile triumphant. “Master. I was instructed to do nothing until the English Magician arrived. Valuable time was lost. Flamel was able to contact allies, find shelter and rest.” Machiavelli was watching Dee carefully as he spoke. He knew the Englishman had contacted his Elder master, and that master in turn had ordered Machiavelli’s master to tell the Italian to do nothing until Dee arrived. “However,” he pressed, having made his point, “this delay worked to our advantage. The boy was Awakened by an Elder loyal to us. We have some idea of the twins’ powers and we know where they’ve gone.” He could barely keep the smugness out of his voice. He looked at Dee sitting across the table and nodded quickly. The English Magician took the hint.

“They are in London,” John Dee continued. “And Britain, more than any other land on this earth, is our country,” he stressed. “Unlike in Paris, we have allies there: Elders, Next Generation, immortals and humani servants who will aid us. And in England there are others, loyal to none but themselves, whose services can be bought. All of these resources can be directed to finding Flamel and the twins.” He finished and leaned forward, staring intently at the phone, waiting for an answer.

The line clicked and went dead. Then an irritating busy signal filled the room.

Dee stared at the phone with a mixture of shock and anger. “Have we lost the connection or have they just hung up on us?”

Machiavelli hit the Speaker button, silencing the noise. “Now you know how I feel when you hang up on me,” he said quietly.

“What do we do now?” Dee demanded.

“We wait. I would imagine they are discussing our futures.”

Dee folded his arms over his narrow chest. “They need us,” he said, trying-and failing-to sound confident.

Machiavelli’s smile was bitter. “They use us. But they do not need us. I know of at least a dozen immortals in Paris alone who could do what I do.”

“Well, yes, you are replaceable,” Dee said with a self-satisfied shrug. “But I have spent a lifetime chasing Nicholas and Perenelle.”

“You mean you’ve spent a lifetime failing to catch them,” Machiavelli said, his voice neutral, and then added with a sly smile, “So close, and yet always so far.”

But any reply Dee was about to make was cut off when the phone rang.