The Enchantress (The Secrets of the Immortal Nicholas Flamel) by Michael Scott Read Free Book Online Page B

Fooling Mars was a possibility; maybe Hel, too. But no one could fool Odin. Maybe Machiavelli and Billy had finally chosen the right side. What was it Shakespeare had said about misery making strange bedfellows?
    It took an enormous effort of the Alchemyst’s will to urge the parrot to drop lower. The bird’s every instinct was to flee. The yard was now alive with buzzing colored auras, the stink of Elder blood and the stench of beasts.
    The creature that filled the shattered doorway was huge. It looked like a boar, but it was the size of a bull and its tusks were the length of a man’s arm.
    “Hus Krommyon,” Mars said. “The Crommyonian Boar. Not the original, of course. Theseus killed that one.”
    Odin’s single eye blinked. “It’s big,” he muttered. “Strong.”
    The beast came slowly down the steps. It was so broad that its flanks rubbed against the wall on either side, coarse hair rasping against the stones.
    “It will rush us,” Mars warned.
    “And we’re not going to be able to stop it,” Odin added. “I’ve hunted boar. It will attack with its head down and then rip upward. The muscles around its neck and shoulders are especially thick. I doubt our swords or spears will be able to do anything against it.”
    “And if we use our auras, that will draw the sphinx and she will feast off our energies,” Mars said. He gently pushed Odin to one side. “Both of us do not have to die here. Let it charge me. I’ll grab its head and hold on. You take it from the side with your spears. See if you can get in underneath. The flesh there is softer.”
    Odin nodded. “It’s a good plan, except . . .”
    “Except?”
    “You will not be able to hold its head. It will gore you.”
    “Yes. Probably. And then you stab it.”
    “And you saw what it did to the metal door,” Odin said quietly.
    “I’m tough.” Mars grinned.
    “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you.”
    “I’ve spent millennia trapped within a hardened shell, unable to move.” He flicked his wrist and spun the short sword. “I haven’t had this much fun since . . . well . . . I can’t remember.”
    The Hus Krommyon’s hooves scrambled on the steps, striking sparks off the stones, and then it charged.
    There was a sudden flash of green and red, and what appeared to be a small parrot darted in front of the beast, claws raking along its snout and up between its ears. The boar squealed, slowed and raised its head, jaws snapping, spraying thick saliva. The bird swooped in again, its powerful beak nipping a chunk out of the creature’s hairy ear. The Hus Krommyon bellowed and reared up on its hind legs to snap and bite at the darting creature.
    And Odin’s spear took the monster through its exposed throat. It was dead before it hit the ground.
    “Way to go!” Billy hollered.
    “Billy, why don’t you shout a little louder. I’m sure you can bring some more monsters down on us,” Machiavelli said quietly.
    The American punched his shoulder. “Sometimes you just have to loosen up and celebrate.” He looked down at Hel. “Did you see the size of that thing!”
    “I’ve seen bigger,” she lisped.
    The parrot flapped down to land on the Hus Krommyon’s head. It tilted its tiny red head to one side, looking first at Mars and then Odin.
    “Who are you, little bird?” Mars asked, and then his nostrils flared. “Mint.” he said in astonishment. “Nicholas?”
    The conure’s beak opened and closed and then it squawked, “Flamel.”
    Mars saluted the little bird with his sword. “Alchemyst. It is good to . . . ahem . . . see you. We are alive, as you can see. Our numbers have swelled by two, but we are in dire straits. There are too many of them, far too many, and the sphinx is prowling.” He stopped, then added, “I cannot believe I am giving a report to a parrot.”
    “Areop-Enap,” the bird chirruped.
    Mars looked at the one-eyed Elder. “Did it just say ‘Areop-Enap’?”
    The parrot danced from foot to foot.