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so that there will be none to stand against us when we return. And what will be our first action? Why, we will destroy the monsters and be hailed by the humani as their saviors.”
    “And these beasts are in Alcatraz’s cells?” Machiavelli asked, appalled. “How do I rouse them?”
    “You will be given instructions when you reach the Americas. But first, you have to defeat Perenelle Flamel.”
    “How do we know she is still there? If she has escaped her cell, surely she will have fled the island?” The Italian was aware that his heart was suddenly pounding; three hundred years ago he had sworn vengeance on the Sorceress. Was he now about to be given an opportunity for revenge?
    “She is still on the island. She has released Areop-Enap, the Old Spider. It is a dangerous foe, but not invincible. We have taken steps to neutralize it and ensure that Perenelle will remain there until you arrive. And Niccolò”
—the Elder’s voice turned hard and ugly—
“do not repeat Dee’s mistake.”
    The Magician straightened.
    “Do not attempt to capture or imprison Perenelle. Do not talk to her, bargain with her or try to reason with her. Kill her on sight. The Sorceress is infinitely more dangerous than the Alchemyst.”

he early-morning sky over Alcatraz was the color of dirty metal. Flecks of ice-cold rain hissed across the island, and the churning sea pounding against the rocks sent bitter salty foam high into the air.
    Perenelle Flamel ducked back into the shelter of the ruin of the Warden’s House. She rubbed her hands up and down her bare arms, brushing away droplets of salty moisture. She was wearing a light sleeveless summer dress, now soiled with mud and rust, but the tall elegant woman wasn’t cold. Although she’d been reluctant to use her waning powers, she had adjusted her aura, bringing her body temperature up to a comfortable level. She knew if she got too cold, she wouldn’t be able to think clearly, and she had a feeling she was going to need all her resources in the hours to come.
    Four days ago, Perenelle Flamel had been kidnapped by John Dee and imprisoned on Alcatraz. Her guard, a sphinx,had been chosen for its special ability to feed off others’ auras—the energy fields that surround every living thing. The English Magician had hoped the sphinx would drain Perenelle’s aura and prevent her from escaping, but as Dee had done so often in the past, he had underestimated Perenelle’s abilities and powers. With the help of the island’s guardian ghost, the Sorceress had been able to escape the sphinx. It was only then that she discovered the island’s terrible secret: Dee had been collecting monsters. The prison cells were filled with horrific creatures from all over the earth, creatures most humans believed existed only in the darkest corners of myth and legend. But the most surprising discovery had lain in the hidden tunnels deep beneath the island. There, trapped behind magical symbols older than even the Elders, she had found the creature known as Areop-Enap, the Old Spider. The two had formed an uneasy alliance and defeated the Morrigan, the Crow Goddess, and her army of birds. But they knew that worse was to come.
    “This weather is not natural,” Perenelle said softly, the merest trace of her French accent audible in her voice. She breathed deeply and grimaced. To her heightened sense of smell, the wind coming in off San Francisco Bay was tainted with the odor of something foul and long dead, a sure sign that it was abnormal.
    Areop-Enap was perched high on a wall of the empty building. The enormous bloated spider was busy sheathing the shell of the house with a sticky white web. Millions of spiders, some as big as plates, others little more than specks of dirt, scuttled across the massive web in an undulating darkshadow, adding their own layers of silk to the dripping web. Without turning its head, the Elder swiveled two of its eight eyes to focus on the woman. It raised one of its