Two red-haired and pale-skinned young women were chatting, waiting for the lights to change. They were alike enough to be sisters and seemed to be wearing school uniforms. Both were carrying expensive-looking handbags.

“Don’t even look at them,” Palamedes warned. “They’re like beasts; they can sense when they’re being watched.”

Sophie and Josh stared hard at the floor, concentrating fiercely on not thinking about the two girls. Nicholas picked up a newspaper he’d found on the backseat and held it open in front of his face, focusing on the most boring item he could find, the international exchange rates.

“They’re crossing right in front of the car,” Palamedes murmured, turning to look back into the cabin, hiding his face. “I’m sure they wouldn’t recognize me, but I don’t want to take the risk.”

The lights changed and Palamedes pulled away with the rest of the traffic.

“Dearg Due,” Flamel said, before the twins could ask the question. He swiveled to look through the rear window. The girls’ red hair was still visible as they disappeared into the crowd. “Vampires who settled what became the Celtic lands after the Fall of Danu Talis.”

“Like Scatty?” Sophie asked.

Nicholas shook his head. “Nothing like Scatty. These are most definitely not vegetarian.”

“They were heading toward the church too,” Palamedes said, chuckling. “If they encounter the cucubuths, that should make for an interesting meeting. They hate one another.”

“Who would win?” Sophie asked.

“Dearg Due, every time,” Palamedes said with a cheery smile. “I fought them in Ireland. They’re vicious fighters, impossible to kill.”

They continued down Marylebone Road before turning left onto Hampstead Road. Traffic slowed to a crawl, then finally ground to a halt. Somewhere ahead of them horns blared, and an ambulance wail started up. “We might be here for a while.” Palamedes pulled the emergency brake and twisted in his seat once again to look at the twins and Flamel. “So you’re the legendary Nicholas Flamel, the Alchemyst. I’ve heard a lot about you over the years,” he said. “None of it good. Do you know, there are Shadowrealms where your very name is used as a curse?”

The twins were startled by the vehemence in the man’s voice. They were unsure whether he was joking.

Palamedes focused on the Alchemyst. “Death and destruction follow in your wake-”

“The Dark Elders have been ruthless in their attempts to stop me,” Flamel said slowly, with a definite chill in his voice.

“-as do fires, famines, floods and earthquakes,” Palamedes rumbled on, ignoring the interruption.

“What are you suggesting?” Nicholas asked pointedly, and for an instant there was a whiff of mint in the back of the taxi. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, hands clasped in a tight knot.