The Sorceress Read Online Free PDF Page A

single touch. Depending on how long the human had been immortal, sudden and often catastrophic old age raced through the body, centuries of time aging and destroying flesh and organs. In a matter of heartbeats, a healthy-looking human could be reduced to a pile of leathery skin and powdered bones.
    “You have failed us,”
the voices whispered.
    Neither man broke the silence that followed, fully aware that their very long lives were now hanging by a thread. They were both powerful and important, but neither was irreplaceable. The Dark Elders had other human agents they could send after Flamel and the twins. Many others.
    Static crackled and popped on the line, and then a new voice spoke.
“And yet, let me suggest that all is not lost.”
    Centuries of practice kept Machiavelli’s face expressionless. Here was the voice he’d been expecting, the voice of his Elder master, a figure who had briefly ruled Egypt more than three thousand years ago.
    “Let me suggest that we are closer now than we have ever been. We have cause for hope. We have confirmed, that the humani children are indeed the twins of legend; we have even seen some demonstration of their powers. The cursed Alchemyst and his Sorceress wife are trapped and dying. All we have to do is to wait, and time, our greatest friend, will take care of them for us. Scathach is lost and Hekate destroyed. And we have the Codex.”
    “But not all of it,”
the male-female voice whispered.
“We still lack the final two pages.”
    “Agreed. But it is more than we have ever had. Certainly enough to begin the process of calling back the Elders from the most distant Shadowrealms.”
    Machiavelli frowned, concentrating hard. Dee’s Elder master was reputedly the most powerful of all the Elders, and yet here was his own master arguing and debating with him or her. The line crackled, and the male-female voice sounded almost petulant.
    “But we lack the Final Summoning. Without it, our brothers and sisters will not be able to take that last step from their Shadowrealms into this world.”
    Machiavelli’s master responded evenly.
“We should still be gathering our armies. Some of our brethren have ventured far from this earth; they have even gone beyond the Shadowrealms into the Otherworlds. It will take them many days to return. We
need to call them back now, draw them into the Shadowrealms that border this earth, so that when the time is right, a single step will take them into this world and we can move as one to reclaim the planet.”
    Machiavelli looked at Dee. The English Magician’s head had titled slightly to one side, eyes half closed as he listened to the Elders. Almost as if he felt Machiavelli’s gaze on him, Dee opened his eyes and raised his brows in a silent question. The Italian shook his head slightly; he had no idea what was happening.
    “This is the time foreseen by Abraham when he first created the Codex,”
Machiavelli’s master continued.
“He had the Sight, he could see the curling strands of time. He foretold that this age would come—he called it the Time of the Turning, when order would be returned to the world. We have discovered the twins, we know the whereabouts of Flamel and the last two pages from the Codex. Once we have the pages we can use the twins’ powers to fuel the Final Summoning.”
    The line crackled with static, and in the background Machiavelli clearly heard a murmur of assent. He realized that there were others listening in on the line, and he wondered how many of the Dark Elders had gathered. He bit down hard on the inside of his cheek to prevent himself from smiling at the image of the Elders, in their assorted guises and aspects—human and inhuman, beast and monster—listening intently on cell phones. Machiavelli chose his moment when there was a break in the murmuring voices and spoke carefully, stripping all emotion from his voice, keeping it neutral and professional.
    “Then can I suggest that you allow us to complete