Part 23 (1/2)

Joan squealed with delight and launched herself at Saint-Germain, wrapping her arms and legs around him, sending him staggering backward. Catching her in his arms, he swung her around and around. ”I knew you would come for me,” Joan whispered in French.

”I said I would follow you to the ends of the earth,” he murmured in the same language, ”and now you know I really mean it.” Returning Joan to the ground, he bowed to the Shadow. ”You are unharmed and in good health, I see.”

”We are.” Scatty returned his bow. ”I thought I'd lost the capacity for surprise a long time ago,” she said, ”but I guess I was mistaken. And I really do hate surprises,” she added.

Saint-Germain turned to Palamedes and the Bard and raised his eyebrows in silent shock. The knight grinned, teeth white against his dark skin. ”What, did you think we would let you have all the fun?”

”But how...?” Saint-Germain wondered.

Palamedes turned to Shakespeare. ”Tell him.”

The Bard shrugged modestly. ”I suggested to the Green Man that he send us after you.” Will smiled. He stopped and bowed to Scatty and Joan. ”Ladies.”

”And Tammuz did it?” Saint-Germain sounded surprised.

”He raised a few minor objections,” Palamedes rumbled, ”until Will threatened him with some horrible fungus disease.” The Saracen Knight bowed. ”Ladies: it is good to see you both.”

”And you, Sir Knight,” Joan said.

”Been a long time, Pally,” Scathach added with a smile.

The knight made a pained face. ”Please, don't call me Pally. I hate that.”

”I know.”

The hooded man had remained seated on the rock, bright blue eyes watching each immortal in turn, absently running his index finger along the length of the hook that took the place of his left hand.

William Shakespeare stepped forward, took off his black-framed gla.s.ses and wiped them on his sleeve. ”I believe, sir, that we are due an explanation.”

Although his mouth and nose were hidden by a scarf, the hooded man's eyes crinkled with amus.e.m.e.nt. ”And I believe I will tell you only what I think you need to know, and no more.”

Palamedes' hand moved and the broadsword strapped to his back appeared in his grip. ”An explanation, and then you send us back to our own time.”

The hooded man laughed. ”Why, Sir Knight, you-none of you-can return home just yet.”

Palamedes raised his sword and took a step forward.

”Oh, don't be stupid,” the man said almost impatiently. Palamedes' sword suddenly turned into a length of wood, which quickly sprouted leaves. Vines immediately started to coil around the knight's wrist and arm. He dropped the sword to the ground, where it was swallowed into the earth, leaving nothing more than a darkened patch in the dirt by his feet.

”That was my favorite sword,” the Saracen Knight muttered.

”This is my world,” the hooded man said. ”I created it. I control it and everything in it.” He stretched his hook out over the water and moved it clockwise, and the pool instantly froze into a crackling sheet of ice. When he moved it counterclockwise, the ice transformed into foul-smelling bubbling lava. ”And right now,” the man said, ”you are here... which means that I control you.” His hand moved again and the lava turned back into crystal-clear water.

Will Shakespeare stepped closer to the water's edge, then stooped to scoop up a handful of the liquid. He paused before he brought it to his lips. ”I take it that it is safe to drink.”

”I can make it any flavor you like.”

The Bard sipped the water. ”You're not going to kill us, are you?”

”I am not.”

Shakespeare straightened slowly and looked closely at the hooded man. He frowned: there was something almost familiar about him. ”Have we met before?”

The figure held up his left arm, tilting the hook so that it caught the sunlight. ”If we had, I am sure you would have remembered this.”

”Still, there is something about you...,” Shakespeare said, squinting hard at the man. ”I feel I should know you.”

The hooded man turned to Saint-Germain. ”However, we have met before. It is good to see you again. You have prospered in the centuries since our last encounter.”

”All thanks to you.” Saint-Germain stepped forward and bowed. ”It has just occurred to me that this is all your doing. You planned this. In fact, I think you've been planning this for a long time, haven't you?”

”Yes,” the man said, surprising the others. ”For a very long time.”

”Flamel said he met you when he was traveling across Europe looking for someone to translate the Codex.”

The hooded man bowed. ”I met him and Mistress Perenelle briefly.”

”And you taught me how to master the Magic of Fire.”

”It was necessary. If I had not taught you what I knew, then sooner or later your own Fire magic would have consumed you. I needed to keep you alive.”

”I'm grateful,” Saint-Germain said.

The hooded man looked at each of them in turn. ”I have worked hard to keep all of you alive and in good health-even you, Scathach,” he added. ”I have been waiting ten thousand years for this day to come.”

”Ten thousand years?” Shakespeare asked.

”Since the Fall of Danu Talis.”

”You were on the island?” Scathach breathed.

”Yes, I was. And so were you, Scathach, and you too, Palamedes, and you, Shakespeare and Saint-Germain and Joan. You were all there. You went to stand and fight with the original twins.”

There was a long silence, when even the sounds of the landscape faded to stillness.

Finally, Scathach shook her head. ”That's impossible. If I was on Danu Talis in the past, why don't I remember?”

”Because you've not been there yet,” he said simply. He slid off the rock and stood before them. He was slightly taller than Saint-Germain, though not as tall as Palamedes. ”I've gathered you here to take you back to Danu Talis with me. The twins need warriors they can trust. Come now, there is little time to waste.”

”Just like that?” Palamedes demanded. ”You cannot expect us to travel into the past and fight just because you say so. Why should we fight for you?”

”You are not fighting for me,” the hooded man said impatiently. ”You are fighting for the continued existence of the human race. If you choose not to come, then Danu Talis will not sink and the creatures you know as humani will never rise to civilization. You have all in your differing ways been champions of the humani. It is time to champion their cause again.”

”But we cannot go with you, not now,” Saint-Germain said. ”We've got to get back to our own time.”

Joan nodded. ”What about Nicholas and Perenelle and the creatures on Alcatraz that Dee and Machiavelli are about to release into the city? We need to fight with the Flamels.”