Sophie reached out and squeezed her brother’s arm tightly. “Josh,” she said sharply, blue eyes wide with concern. She’d never heard her brother talk like this before. “Stop it. How come you know so much about castle defenses…?” Her voice trailed off, the ghost of an unsettling idea flickering at the corner of her mind.

“I don’t know,” Josh admitted. “I just… sort of… know it. It’s like when we were in Paris-I knew that Dee and Machiavelli had to be on high ground controlling the gargoyles. And then, earlier today, when those three creatures were going to attack…”

“The Genuii Cucullati,” Sophie murmured absently, turning to watch Nicholas climb stiffly out of the cab. When she saw him reach in to pull out Josh’s backpack, she noticed that his knuckles looked slightly swollen. Aunt Agnes, back in Pacific Heights in San Francisco, had arthritis, and her knuckles were also swollen. The Alchemyst was aging fast.

“Yes, them. I knew that they were moving into an attack pattern by their body language. I knew that the center one would charge first and come at us straight on, while the other two would try to flank us. I knew if I could stop him, it might distract the others and give us a chance to escape.” Josh stopped suddenly, realizing what he was saying. “How did I know that?” he wondered aloud.

“Mars,” Sophie whispered. She nodded. “It has to have come from the God of War.” The girl shuddered; she and her brother were changing. Then she shook her head slightly: they had already changed.

“Mars. I… I remember,” Josh whispered. “When he was Awakening me he said something at the end, something about giving me a gift that I might find useful in the days to come. And then he rested his hand on the top of my head and I felt this incredible heat flow through me.” He looked at his twin. “What did he give me? I don’t have any strange memories, like the ones the Witch gave you.”

“I think you should probably be grateful you don’t have his memories,” Sophie said quickly. “The Witch knew Mars and despised him. I would imagine most of his memories are foul. Josh, I think he’s given you his military knowledge.”

“He’s made me a warrior?” Even though the thought was creepy, Josh was unable to keep the note of delight from his voice.

“Maybe even something better,” Sophie said, her voice soft and distant, eyes flashing silver. “I think he’s made you a strategist.”

“And that’s good?” He sounded disappointed

Sophie nodded quickly. “Battles are won by men. Wars are won by strategists.”

“Who said that?” Josh asked, surprised.

“Mars did,” Sophie said, shaking her head to clear the sudden influx of memories. “Don’t you see? Mars was the ultimate strategist; he never lost a battle. It’s an amazing gift.”