01_-_The_Alchemyst

“Never met him,” Scathach said, “though I did train dear Joan and
fought by her side at Orléans. I told her not to go to Paris,” she added very
softly, pain in her eyes.
“My aura is rarer than yours,” Josh deliberately teased his sister to
break the somber mood. He looked at the Warrior Maid. “But what exactly
does it mean to have pure-colored auras?”
When Scathach turned to look at him, her face was expressionless. “It
means you have extraordinary powers. All of the great magicians and
sorcerers of the past, the heroic leaders, the inspired artists, have had purecolor
or single-color auras.”
The twins looked at one another, suddenly uncertain. This was just a
little too weird, and there was something in Scathach’s lack of expression
that was frightening. Sophie’s eyes suddenly widened in shock. “I just
realized that both of those people, Joan of Arc and Tutankhamen, died
young.”
“Very young,” Josh said, sobering, recalling his history. “They both died
when they were nineteen.”
“Yes, they did, didn’t they?” Scathach agreed, turning away to look at
Nicholas Flamel and the Goddess with Three Faces.
“Humani,” Hekate snarled. “Humani with silver and gold auras.” She
sounded both puzzled and angry.
“It has happened before,” Flamel said mildly.
“You think I don’t know that?”
They were standing at the edge of a bubbling brook that cut through the
trees and fed into an octagonal pond dappled with white water lilies. Huge
red and albino koi moved through the perfectly clear water.
“I’ve never come across the two auras together, and never in twins.
They possess enormous untapped power,” Flamel said urgently. “Do I have
to remind you of the Codex? ‘The two that are one and the one that is all’—
the very first prophecy Abraham speaks of.”