01_-_The_Alchemyst

with his sleeve.
Flamel was about to respond, but glanced up and suddenly came to his
feet. Scathach also rose smoothly, silently. Sophie immediately stood, but
Josh remained sitting until Sophie caught his shoulder and pulled him up.
Then she turned to look at the Goddess with Three Faces.
But this wasn’t Hekate.
The woman she had seen earlier had been tall and elegant, middle-aged
maybe, her hair cut in a tight white helmet close to her head, her black skin
smooth and unwrinkled. This woman was older, much, much older. The
resemblance to Hekate was there, and Sophie guessed that this was her
mother or grandmother. Although she was still tall, she stooped forward,
picking her way around the branch, leaning into an ornately carved black
stick that was at least as tall as Sophie. Her face was a mass of fine
wrinkles, her eyes deeply sunken in her head, glittering with a peculiar
yellow cast. She was completely bald, and Sophie could see where her skull
was tattooed in an intricate curling pattern. Although she was wearing a
dress similar to the one Hekate had worn earlier, the metallic-looking fabric
ran black and red with her every movement.
Sophie blinked, squeezed her eyes shut and then blinked again. She
could see the merest hint of an aura around the woman, almost as if she were
exuding a fine white mist. When she moved, she left tendrils of this mist
behind her.
Without acknowledging anyone’s presence, the old woman settled into
the seat directly facing Nicholas Flamel. Only when she was seated did
Flamel and Scathach sit. Sophie and Josh sat down also, glancing from
Nicholas to the old woman, wondering who she was and what was going on.
The woman raised a wooden goblet from the table, but didn’t drink.
There was movement in the trunk of the tree behind her, and four tall,
muscular young men appeared, carrying trays piled high with food, which
they set down in the center of the table before backing away silently. The men
looked so alike that they had to be related, but it was their faces that drew the
twins’ attention: there was something wrong with the planes and angles of
their skulls. Foreheads sloped down to a ridge over their eyes, their noses