On the other side of the Atlantic, Scatty shook her head. “Flint arrowheads, bronze spears and crossbow bolts were found all around the burning yard. One of the news reporters showed a handful of the arrowheads to the camera. They looked brand-new. Some local historian dated them back to the Neolithic Period, but said the bronze spears were Roman and the crossbow bolts were Medieval. He claimed they were all genuine.”

“There was a fight,” Perenelle said curtly. “Who was involved?”

“Impossible to say, but you know what lives in and around that city.”

Perenelle knew only too well. Scores of creatures had settled on the British Isles, drawn there by the abundance of ley lines and the Shadowrealms. And most were loyal to the Dark Elders.

“Were there any bodies found at this car yard?” she asked grimly. If anything had happened to Nicholas or the twins, she would tear the city apart looking for Dee. The hunter would discover what it was like to be hunted. And she had more than six hundred years of sorcerous knowledge to draw upon.

“The car yard was deserted. What looked like a moat of oil had been set alight, and everything was covered in a thick layer of gray ash.”

“Ash?” Perenelle frowned. “Have you any idea what left it?”

“There are several creatures who turn to ash when they are killed,” Scatty said slowly.

“Including immortal humans,” Perenelle added.

“I do not believe Nicholas was killed,” Scatty said quickly.

“Nor do I,” the Sorceress whispered. She would know if anything had happened to him, she would feel it.

“Could you try to contact him?” Scatty asked.

“I could try, but if he’s on the run…”

“You found me.” The Warrior smiled. “Though you did give me quite a start.” The Warrior had been standing before a bathroom mirror, rubbing antiseptic cream on her cuts, when the glass had fogged over, then cleared to reveal Perenelle Flamel. Scatty had almost stuck her finger in her eye.

Perenelle had got the idea to try scrying from the immortal human with the Anasazi bowl she’d caught spying on her earlier. She’d chosen the warmest spot on the island, where the white stones of the lighthouse were baked by the sun. Filling a shallow plate with water, she’d sat down and allowed the afternoon sun to charge her aura. Then she’d asked de Ayala to keep the rest of the ghosts of Alcatraz away from her as she lowered her defenses. She’d also asked him to warn her if the Crow Goddess approached. Perenelle didn’t entirely trust the creature.