The Sorceress Read Online Free PDF

our tasks. Let us find Flamel and the twins.” He knew he was playing a dangerous game now, but it was clear that there was dissension in the ranks of the Elders, and Machiavelli had always been expert at manipulating such situations. He had clearly heard the need in his master’s voice. The Elders desperately wanted the twins and the Codex: without them, the rest of the Dark Elders would not be able to return to the earth. And at that instant he recognized that both he and Dee were still valuable assets. “The doctor and I have formulated a plan,” he said, and then fell silent, waiting to see if they would take the bait.
    “Speak, humani,”
the male-female voice rumbled.
    Machiavelli folded his hands and said nothing. Dee’s eyebrows shot up and he pointed at the phone.
Speak
, he mouthed.
    “Speak!”
the voice snarled, static howling and popping.
    “You are not my master,” Machiavelli said very quietly. “You cannot command me.”
    There was a long hissing sound, like steam escaping. Machiavelli turned his head slightly, trying to identify the noise. Then he nodded: it was laughter. The other Elders were amused by his response. He had been correct; there was dissension in the ranks of the Elders, and though Dee’s master might be all-powerful, that did not mean he was liked. Here was a weakness Machiavelli could exploit to his advantage.
    Dee was staring at him, gray eyes wide with horror and maybe even admiration.
    The line clicked, the ambient background noise changedand then Machiavelli’s master spoke, amusement clearly audible in his gravelly voice.
“What do you propose? And be careful, humani,”
he added.
“You too have failed us. We were assured that Flamel and the twins would not leave Paris.”
    The Italian leaned toward the phone, his smile triumphant. “Master. I was instructed to do nothing until the English Magician arrived. Valuable time was lost. Flamel was able to contact allies, find shelter and rest.” Machiavelli was watching Dee carefully as he spoke. He knew the Englishman had contacted his Elder master, and that master in turn had ordered Machiavelli’s master to tell the Italian to do nothing until Dee arrived. “However,” he pressed, having made his point, “this delay worked to our advantage. The boy was Awakened by an Elder loyal to us. We have some idea of the twins’ powers and we know where they’ve gone.” He could barely keep the smugness out of his voice. He looked at Dee sitting across the table and nodded quickly. The English Magician took the hint.
    “They are in London,” John Dee continued. “And Britain, more than any other land on this earth, is
our
country,” he stressed. “Unlike in Paris, we have allies there: Elders, Next Generation, immortals and humani servants who will aid us. And in England there are others, loyal to none but themselves, whose services can be bought. All of these resources can be directed to finding Flamel and the twins.” He finished and leaned forward, staring intently at the phone, waiting for an answer.
    The line clicked and went dead. Then an irritating busy signal filled the room.
    Dee stared at the phone with a mixture of shock and anger. “Have we lost the connection or have they just hung up on us?”
    Machiavelli hit the Speaker button, silencing the noise. “Now you know how I feel when you hang up on me,” he said quietly.
    “What do we do now?” Dee demanded.
    “We wait. I would imagine they are discussing our futures.”
    Dee folded his arms over his narrow chest. “They need us,” he said, trying—and failing—to sound confident.
    Machiavelli’s smile was bitter. “They use us. But they do not need us. I know of at least a dozen immortals in Paris alone who could do what I do.”
    “Well, yes,
you
are replaceable,” Dee said with a self-satisfied shrug. “But
I
have spent a lifetime chasing Nicholas and Perenelle.”
    “You mean you’ve spent a lifetime failing to catch them,” Machiavelli