The Archon howled and bellowed as it sank to its chest in mud, its huge bulk driving it deeper into the ground. The creature’s hands battered the sticky earth, sending it spraying everywhere. It grabbed for purchase, but found nothing but mud. A bubble popped behind it, a stone emerging to the surface of the mire, and another and then a third. And suddenly, sticky brown-black mud spewed upward, raining down to coat the creature in filth, battering it with scraps of tree roots and chunks of stone. A circular depression opened up around Cernunnos and the Archon was swallowed, mud flowing over its head, until only the very tips of its antlers showed.

Sophie jerked her hand away from her brother’s and splayed her silver metal fingers. An intense blast of white-hot fire blazed over the swampy circle, the searing heat baking the ground iron-hard in an instant.

“We did it,” Josh laughed. “We did it! I could feel the power flowing through me. The Magic of Water,” he said in wonder.

“Josh, get out there. Help them,” Sophie commanded, all the color draining from her face as her aura depleted.

“What about you?”

“Do it,” she snapped, eyes winking silver.

“You’re not the boss of me.” He grinned.

“Oh yes I am.” She smiled and reached up to squeeze his fingers. “Remember, I’m older.”

Smiling, Josh turned and raced out into the field, Clarent whistling before him, cleaving a path toward Palamedes. Part of him wanted to help the Alchemyst, but an instinct deep down told him it made more sense to rescue the knight first; two warriors were better than one.

Gilgamesh’s grip tightened on Sophie’s fingers. “You must go now,” he said in a hoarse whisper. “Get away from here.”

“I’m not leaving you. You’re injured.”

“You will never leave me,” the king said, “you will live forever in my memory.” He suddenly grabbed the arrow protruding from his chest, pulled it out and flung it away. “And this, hah, it will slow me down for a bit, but it will take more than this to kill me. You go, go now. Your aura, the Alchemyst’s and the Magician’s will have called every evil thing in this county. And probably the authorities, too.” His eyes flickered toward the green and yellow light blazing from the immortals’ weapons. “I’m sure that light can be seen from miles away.” The king squeezed Sophie’s hand. “Know this: if we meet again, I may not remember you.” He pulled the thick sheaf of mismatched pages from under his shirt, extracted the topmost sheet and pressed it into her hand. “And if I do not, then give me this. It will remind me of the girl who shed a tear for the lost king. Go now. Get to the leygate.”

“But I don’t know where it is,” Sophie said.