“London! The Morrigan told me you were in Paris.” Nicholas smiled. “Ah, but that was yesterday; today we are in London, but not for long, if I can help it. Can you leave the island?”

“Unfortunately not.” She smiled sadly. “This is Dee’s island. There is a sphinx loose in the prison corridors, the cells are full of monsters and the seas are guarded by Nereids.”

“Stay safe: I will come for you,” Nicholas said firmly.

Perenelle nodded. She had absolutely no doubt that the Alchemyst would try to get to her; whether he would arrive in time was another matter. “I know you will.” They had lived together for so long and, for most of the last century, in such relative comfort and obscurity, and with so little contact with Elders or Next Generation, that she sometimes forgot that his knowledge was incalculable. “Have you a plan?”

“In Paris, I retrieved our old map of the world’s ley lines,” he said quickly, eyes twinkling with mischief. “There is a line somewhere on Salisbury Plain that will take us directly to Mount Tamalpais. We’ll head there when…” He hesitated.

Perenelle caught the hesitation and felt a surge of alarm. “When? What are you up to, Nicholas?”

“There’s something I have to do in London first,” he said. “Someone I want the children to meet.”

She immediately thought of a dozen names, none of them good. “Who?”

“Gilgamesh.” Perenelle opened her mouth to protest, but the stony look on her husband’s face stopped her. His eyes flashed and his head moved almost imperceptibly toward Josh. “I’m going to ask him to teach the children the Magic of Water.”

“Gilgamesh,” she repeated, “the King.” Forcing a smile to her lips, she added, “Give him my regards.”

“I’ll do that.” Flamel nodded. “I’m sure he’ll remember you. And I’m hoping he will direct us to the ley line that will take us home,” he added.

“Tell me quickly, Nicholas: is all well? Are the children safe?”

“Yes. The twins are here with me,” Nicholas said. “Both have been Awakened, and Sophie has received both the Magic of Air and the Magic of Fire. Unfortunately, Josh has not yet received any training.”

Perenelle was watching Josh as her husband spoke. Even without the wavering image, she sensed, rather than saw, his disappointment.

“There is much to tell you,” Flamel continued.

“Obviously. But Nicholas, you are forgetting your manners,” Perenelle chided him. “You have not introduced me to…” Recognition dawned even as she was about to ask the question. “Is that Master Shakespeare?”

The man next to Nicholas bowed as deeply as he could from his sitting position. “Your humble servant, madam.”