Dee allowed his fingers to brush against Excalibur, which was propped under his desk. He also knew half a dozen auric spells, any one of which was designed to overload an aura and bring it to blazing life. Then the only problem would be cleaning the dust out of the carpet. The chair would probably melt.

“How did you know I was here?” Dee asked suddenly. “I rarely visit this office. And it is a little late in the evening for a meeting.”

The tall pale-faced man tried to smile, but instead twisted his lips oddly. “My employer knew you were in the city. He presumed you would make your way to this office inasmuch as it gives you access to your communications network.” The man spoke English with clipped precision, but in a slightly high-pitched voice that made everything sound faintly ridiculous.

“Can you not speak plainly?” Dee snapped. He was tired and running out of time. Despite the hours of roadblocks and countless police checkpoints, there was still no sign of Flamel and the children. The British government was coming under pressure to remove the checkpoints. All roads leading in and out of the city were still gridlocked, and London itself was at a standstill.

“You had a meeting with my employer late last night,” the pale man said. “It was terminated before it had reached a satisfactory conclusion, due to circumstances entirely beyond your control.”

The Magician rose and walked around the desk. He was holding Excalibur in his right hand, tapping the stone blade gently against his left. The seated man showed no reaction. “What are you?” Dee asked, curious. He had come to the conclusion that the creature was not entirely natural and probably not even human. Going down on one knee, he stared into the man’s face, looking at the mismatched eyes. Green and gray. “Are you a tulpa, a Golem, simulacrum or homunculus?”

“I am a Thoughtform,” the figure said, and smiled. Its mouth was filled with stag’s teeth. “Created by Cernunnos.”

Dee was scrambling back even as the figure changed. The body remained that of a tall ill-dressed man, but the head altered, became beautiful and alien, even as great antlers sprouted. The Horned God’s mouth moved in the tiniest of smiles and its slit-pupiled eyes expanded and contracted. “Lock your door, Doctor; you would not want anyone to walk in now.”

Giving the creature a wide berth, keeping Excalibur between them, Dee moved around to snap the lock on the door. What Cernunnos had just done was remarkable. Using its imagination and the power of its will, the Archon had created a being entirely out of its aura. The creation wasn’t perfect, but it was good enough. Dee knew that humani never really looked at one another anymore, and even if someone had noticed that something was wrong with the man’s appearance, they would have looked away, embarrassed.