“Then she did it deliberately,” Josh said, anger raising his voice enough to attract the attention of a group of tourists photographing the church’s clock face. His twin nudged him and he lowered his voice to a hoarse whisper. “That’s why she gave Sophie all her knowledge!” Nicholas started to shake his head, but Josh pressed on. “Once her memories take over completely, then she has a newer, younger body, rather than her old blind body. You can’t deny it.”

Nicholas closed his mouth and turned away. “I have to… I have to think about this,” he said. “I’ve never heard of anything like this happening before.”

“But you never heard of the Witch giving all her knowledge to one person before, did you?” Josh demanded.

Sophie caught the Alchemyst’s arm and stepped in front of him. “Nicholas, what do we do?” she asked.

“I’ve no idea,” he admitted with an exhausted sigh. And in that moment, he looked ancient, with lines etched deeply onto his forehead and around his eyes, creases alongside his nose, deep grooves between his eyebrows.

“Then who would know?” she snapped, a note of fear in her voice.

“Perenelle,” he said, and then nodded fiercely. “My Perenelle will know what to do. We’ve got to get you back to her. She’ll be able to help. In the meantime, you’ve got to concentrate on being Sophie. You’ve got to focus on your own identity.”

“How?”

“Think about your past, your parents, your schools, people you’ve met, friends, enemies, places you’ve visited.” He turned to Josh. “You’ve got to help. Ask your sister questions about the past, about everything you’ve done together, the places you’ve been. And Sophie,” he added, turning to look at the girl, “every time you begin to experience one of the Witch of Endor’s memories, deliberately focus on something else, a memory of your own. You have to fight to keep the Witch’s memories from overwhelming yours until we find a way to control this.”

Suddenly, a black London cab pulled up to the curb and the passenger window slid down. “Get in,” a voice commanded from the shadows.

No one moved.

“We don’t have all day. Get in.” There was a hint of North Africa in the rich timbre of the voice.

“We didn’t call a cab,” Flamel said, desperately glancing up and down the road. St Germain had said he was sending someone to them, but the Alchemyst had never imagined it was going to be anything as ordinary as a London taxi. Was this a trap? Had Dee caught up with them? He looked over his shoulder at the church. The door was open. They could dart up the steps into the sanctuary of the church, but once inside, they would be trapped.