Palamedes wrenched open the door, pushed Sophie in first, then threw himself into the back of the cab. Josh took off with a wheel-spinning lurch. He pulled up to Nicholas, who was lying unmoving on the ground. Sophie leaned out of the back of the cab, caught him by his shoulders and tried to haul him into the car, but he was too heavy. Palamedes reached out and even in his exhausted and weakened state dragged the Alchemyst in with one hand.

Sophie slapped the glass partition with the palm of her hand. “Go, Josh, go!”

“I’ve got to get Clarent.”

“Look behind you! ” she screamed.

In the rearview mirror, Josh could see that the field was full of monsters. They looked like they were part of the Wild Hunt, but these wolves were black, with brutish, almost apelike faces, and were twice the size of the gray wolves. Running alongside them were huge coal-colored cats with blazing red eyes.

“What are they?” Josh shouted.

“Aspects of the Wild Hunt from all across the country,” Palamedes said tiredly.

Josh glanced at the long grass where he knew Clarent was lying and made a decision. It would take only a moment to get to it… but doing so would endanger everyone. Even as he floored the accelerator, he recognized that the old Josh Newman would have put his own needs above others and gone for the sword. He had changed. Maybe it had to do with the magic he’d learned, but he doubted it. The experiences of the past few days had taught him what was important.

Sophie leaned out the window, gathering strength she didn’t know she possessed, and pressed her thumb against the circle on her wrist. An arrow-straight line of raging vanilla-scented fire blazed into six-foot flames, bringing the charging creatures to a halt.

“What do I do?” Josh shouted. “Where do I go?” A wooden gate appeared in the headlights. Josh held on, hunched his shoulders and drove straight through it, shattering it into splinters. A length of timber snapped back and punched a hole through the windshield.

Palamedes grabbed the Alchemyst and none too gently shook his head. Flamel’s eyes cracked open and his lips moved, but no sound came out. “Where are we going?” the knight demanded.

“Stonehenge,” Flamel mumbled.

“Yes, yes, I know that. Where, specifically?”

“The heart of the Henge,” the Alchemyst whispered, head lolling. Sophie saw that there were long tears in his clothing where Dee’s whip had sliced at him. The skin beneath was blistered and raw. Focusing the remnants of her aura into the tip of her index finger, Sophie drew it along one of the nastier cuts, sealing and healing it.

“Where’s Gilgamesh?” Palamedes asked.

“He was wounded. He told me to go; he made me go.” Sophie’s voice caught. “I didn’t want to.”

The Saracen Knight smiled kindly. “He’s impossible to kill,” he said.