“You kept it!” The knight clenched his hands into huge fists. Veins popped out along his forearms and appeared on his neck. “If you knew what it was, why didn’t you destroy it?”

“It is older than humanity,” Flamel said quietly, “even older than the Elders or Danu Talis. How could I destroy it?”

“It’s loathsome,” Palamedes snapped. “You know what it did?”

“It was a tool; nothing more. It was used by evil people.”

Palamedes started to shake his head.

“We needed it to escape,” the Alchemyst said firmly. “And remember, without it, the Nidhogg would still be alive and rampaging through Paris.”

Josh stepped forward, pulled the sword from the ground and wiped the muddy tip of the blade on the edge of his shoe. There was the briefest hint of oranges in the air, but the smell was bitter and faintly sour. The moment the boy touched the hilt, a wash of emotions and images hit him:

Palamedes, the Saracen Knight, at the head of a dozen knights in armor and chain mail. They were battered, their armor scarred and broken, weapons chipped, shields dented. They were fighting their way through an army of primitive-looking beastlike men, trying to get to a small hill where a single warrior in golden armor desperately battled against creatures that were a terrible cross between men and animals.

Palamedes shouting a warning as a huge creature rose up behind the lone warrior, a creature that was shaped like a man but had the curling horns of a stag on its head. The horned man raised a short stone sword and the warrior in gold fell.

Palamedes standing over the fallen warrior, gently removing the sword Excalibur from his hand.

Palamedes racing through a marshy swampland, pursuing the staglike creature. Beasts came at him-boarmen and bearmen, wolfmen and goatmen-but he cut through them with Excalibur, the sword blazing, leaving arcs of cold blue light in the air.

Palamedes standing at the bottom of an impossibly sheer cliff, watching the horned man climb effortlessly to the top.

And at the top, the creature turning and holding aloft the sword he’d used to kill the king. It dripped and steamed with crimson-black smoke. And it was almost a mirror of the sword in the Saracen Knight’s hand.

Josh drew in a deep shuddering breath as the images faded. The horned man had been holding Clarent, Excalibur’s twin. Opening his eyes, he looked at the weapon, and in that instant, he knew why Palamedes had snatched up the blade. The two swords were almost identical; there were only minor differences in the hilts. The Saracen Knight had assumed the stone sword was Excalibur. Concentrating fiercely on the gray blade, Josh tried to focus on what he’d just seen-the warrior in the golden armor. Had that been…?