“How the mighty have fallen,” he said, looking down on Aten. Ard-Greimne was short and incredibly sensitive about his height. He always wore shoes with lifts in them. When Aten didn’t respond, he tried again. “I said, how the mighty—”“It wasn’t funny or even clever the first time you said it,” Aten said. “Nor is it original.”

“Marethyu stretched out his right hand and Aten took it in his. "Let me tell you this," the hook-handed man said. "We will meet again,you and I,in a different place and a different time.""You know this to be true?""I do.""Because you have seen the future?""Because I have been there.”

“What have you done, brother?" Anubis snarled. "You have betrayed us.""I did what I had to do to save the world.""Chain him," Anubis commanded. He looked at his brother and his stuff face managed to twist and contort in rage. "Waerloga,"he spat.The Elder nodded in agreement. "Aten the Warlock. It has a ring to it, don't you think?”

“Or maybe he just rediscovered his humanity,” Niten said quietly. “Maybe someone reminded him that he is human first, immortal second.”“You said as if you are speaking from personal experience,” Perenelle said.”“I am,” he said softly. “There was a time when I was . . . wild.”“What happened?”He smiled. “I met a redheaded Irish warrior.”“And fell in love?” she teased.“I didn’t say that.”“You didn’t have to.”

“Two against thirty two,” Niten said. “Good odds.”“I’ve never fought the Spartoi before,” Prometheus admitted. “I only know of them by their reputation—and it’s fearsome.”“We have an equal reputation,” Niten said.“Well, you do,” the Elder said. “I was never that much of a fighter. And after the fall of the island, I rarely took up weapons again.”“Fighting is a skill you never forget,” Niten said, a touch of sadness in his voice. “I fought my first duel when I was thirteen. I’ve been fighting ever since.”“But you are more than just a swordsman,” Prometheus said. “You are an artist, a sculptor and a writer.”“No man is ever just one thing,” Niten answered. His shoulder dropped and his short sword appeared in his left hand, water droplets sparkling from the blade. “But first and foremost, I was always a warrior.” He jabbed his sword into the fog and stirred it like liquid.”

“It's been open about a year now.And it is one of my favorite places in the city.""You never told me," he said, sounding surprised."So even after all these years,we can still surprise one another," she teased.He leaned over and kissed her quickly on the cheek. "Even after all these years," he said. "So enlighten me-how often do you come to this place?""Five,maybe six times a week.""Oh?""Every morning when I'd leave the shop,I'd usually walk down to the Embarcadero,amble along the promenade and end up walking the length of this pier.Where did you think I was for that hour?""I thought you'd popped across the road for coffee.""Yea,Nicholas," Perenelle said in French. "I drink tea. You know I hate coffee.""You hate coffee?" Nicholas said. "Since when?""Only for the last eighty years or so."Nicholas blinked,pale eyes reflecting the blue of the sea. "I knew that.I think.""You're teasing me.""Maybe," he admitted.”

“Was this how you were going to awaken the creatures?"Machiavelli,clutching the bars of his cell,smiled but said nothing.Virginia stood in front of Dee and stared into his eyes,using herwill to calm him down. "So you tried to use the pages to awaken the cratures.Tell me what happened."Dee jabbed a finger into the nearest cell. It was empty. Virginia stepped closer and discovered the pile of white dust in the corner."I don't even know what was in the cell-some winged monstrosity.Giant vampire bat,I think.I said the words,and the creature opened its eyes and immediately crumbled to dust.""Maybe you said a word wrong?" Virginia suggested. She plucked a scrap of paper from Josh's hands. "I mean,it looks difficult.""I am fluent," Dee snapped."He is," Machiavelli said, "I will give him that.And his accent is very good too, though not quite as good as mine."Dee spun back to the cell holding Machiavelli. "Tell me what went wrong."Machiavelli seemed to be considering it; then he shook his head. "I don't think so."Dee jerked his thumb at the sphinx. "Right now she's absorbing your aura,ensuring that you cannot use any spells against me. But she'll be just as happy eating your flesh.Isn't that true?"he said, looking up into the crature's female face."Oh,I love Italian," she rumbled. She stepped away from Dee and dipped her head to look into the opposite cell. "Give me this one," she said,nodding at Billy the Kid. "He'll make a tasty snack." Her long black forked tongue flickered in the air before the outlaw, who immediately grabbed it,jerked it forward and allowed it to snap back like an elastic band. She screamed,coughed, and squawked all at the same time.Billy grinned."I'll make sure I'll choke you on the way down.""It might be difficult to do that if you have no arms," the sphinx said thickly,working her tongue back and forth."I'll still give you indigestion."Dee looked at Machiavelli. "Tell me," he said again, "or I will feed your young American friend to the beast.""Tell him nothing," Billy yelled."This is one of those occasions when I am in agreement with Billy.I am going to tell you nothing."The Magician looked from one side of the cell to the other. Then he looked at Machiavelli."What happened to you? You were one of the Dark Elders' finest agents in this Shadowrealm. There were times you even made me look like an amateur.""John,you were always an amateur." Machiavelli smiled."Why, look at the mess you're in now.”