“Head of the secret service or something. I was only semiconscious when Dagon pulled me into the water. But the Seine was so cold that the shock brought me wide awake. We fought for hours while the currents dragged us downriver. It wasn’t the toughest battle I’ve ever fought, but Dagon was in his element and the water took a lot of the force out of my blows.”

“I see he managed to scratch you.”

“Lucky hits,” Scatty snorted, dismissing them. “I lost him somewhere around Les Damps, and it took me two days to get back to the city.”

“Are you safe now?”

“I’m with Joan.” The Shadow smiled. “And Saint-Germain, too.” Her smile broadened. “They got married!”

She pulled her head back and a second face swam into view in the water, huge gray eyes dominating a small boyish face. “Madame Flamel.”

“Joan!” Perenelle smiled. If she considered Scatty to be a niece, then Joan was the daughter she never had. “You finally married Francis?”

“Well, we have been seeing one another for centuries. It was time.”

“It was. Joan, it is good to see you,” Perenelle continued. “I just wish it were in better circumstances.”

“I agree,” Joan of Arc said. “These are indeed desperate times. Especially for Nicholas and the children.”

“Are they the twins of legend?” Perenelle asked, curious to hear what her friend thought.

“I am convinced of it,” Joan of Arc said immediately. “The girl’s aura is stronger and purer than mine.”

“Can you get to London?” the Sorceress asked.

The tiny face in the water blurred as the woman on the other side of the world shook her head. “Impossible. Machiavelli controls Paris, and he has locked this city down tightly, claiming a matter of national security. The borders are closed. All flights, ferry sailings and trains are being carefully monitored, and I’m sure they have our descriptions-Scatty’s certainly. There are police everywhere; they’re stopping people on the streets, demanding to see identification, and there is a nine o’clock curfew in effect. The police have released grainy security-camera video of Nicholas, the twins, Scatty and me taken from in front of Notre Dame.”

Perenelle shook her head. “Do I want to know what you were doing in front of the cathedral?”

“Battling the gargoyles,” Joan said lightly.

“I knew I shouldn’t have asked. I’m concerned about Nicholas and the children. Knowing Nicholas’s sense of direction, they’re probably lost. And Dee’s spies are everywhere,” Perenelle added miserably. “No doubt he knew the moment they arrived.”

“Oh, don’t worry, Francis arranged for Palamedes to pick them up. He’s protecting them. He’s good,” Joan assured her.

Perenelle nodded in agreement. “Not as good as the Shadow.”

“Well, no one is,” Joan declared. “Where are you now, madame?”

“Trapped on Alcatraz. And I’m in trouble,” she admitted.