01_-_The_Alchemyst

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
Nicholas Flamel’s hands were already beginning to glow with green
light when he pulled open the door of the small shop, grimacing in annoyance
as the bell jangled merrily.
The sun had dipped below the horizon while the Witch worked with
Sophie, and a chill fog had rolled down the valley. It swirled and rolled the
length of Ojai Avenue, curling and twisting through the trees, leaving
everything it touched beaded with moisture. Cars crept along, their headlights
outlined in huge halos of light barely able to penetrate the gloom. The street
was completely deserted; the people outside had all been dressed for
summer weather and had fled indoors away from the damp.
Scatty joined Flamel at the door. She carried a short sword in one hand,
a nunchaku in the other, dangling loosely on its chain. “This is not good, not
good at all.” She breathed deeply. “Smell that?”
Flamel nodded. “Sulfur. The odor of Dee.”
Scatty rattled the nunchaku. “He’s really starting to annoy me.”
Somewhere in the distance there was a metallic bang as two cars
collided. A car alarm echoed forlornly behind them. And there was a scream,
high-pitched and terrifying, and then another and another.
“It’s coming. Whatever it is,” Nicholas Flamel said grimly.
“We don’t want to be trapped here,” Scatty said. “Let’s find Josh and
get back to the car.”
“Agreed. He who retreats lives longer.” He turned to look back into the
shop. The Witch of Endor had Sophie by the arm and was whispering
urgently to her. Wisps of white smoke still curled off the girl, and tendrils of
white air dripped from her fingers like unwound bandages.