The sorceress

Review by Booklist Review

This third volume of The Secrets of the Immortal Nicholas Flamel series continues the adventures of Josh and Sophie amid a sea of immortal mythical and historical figures. As the twins continue to dodge the evil machinations of John Dee and Niccolò Machiavelli, newcomers Billy the Kid, William Shakespeare, and a rather insane Gilgamesh all make appearances. The intricacy of weaving so many legends into one complicated contemporary conglomerate is a fascinating juggling act, though plot is sometimes sacrificed for simply piling on new characters which leads to some narrative bloat. Immersively imagined, this series remains a great choice to fill the post-Potter vacuum.--Chipman, Ian Copyright 2009 Booklist

From Booklist, Copyright (c) American Library Association. Used with permission.

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Review by School Library Journal Review

Gr 6-10-The third book takes up immediately where The Magician (Delacorte, 2008) left off, and the events described occur over the course of a week. Having fled a destroyed Paris, Nicolas Flamel and the twins are now in England with their every move being tracked by John Dee, the Dark Elders, and their denizens, who are now convinced that Sophie and Josh are the twins of legend. In the meantime, Flamel's wife, Perenelle, the titular sorceress, is attempting to escape Alcatraz. Joined first by the knight Palamedes, and then by William Shakespeare, Flamel and the children try to stay ahead of their pursuers in an attempt to reach Stonehenge, where they hope to find a gate that will allow them to get to San Francisco. In the midst of evading pursuit, Josh finally gets the knowledge of an elemental power, Water Magic, from the insane Elder Gilgamesh, which, of course, conveniently becomes valuable. The chase and escape plots are rather thin and highlight the fact that this series feels bloated, and probably doesn't need the six long volumes the author is planning to tell the story. The inclusion of historical characters such as Shakespeare and Billy the Kid seems primarily a gimmick, and these two characters in particular feel oddly anachronistic. This book is a must-read for fans of the series, but even they will tire if the author doesn't get to the point with reasonable dispatch.-Tim Wadham, St. Louis County Library, MO (c) Copyright 2010. Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.

(c) Copyright Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.

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Review by Horn Book Review

In this third Nicholas Flamel book, Paris is in ruins, and mustache-twirling Dee is still hunting Nicholas and twins Sophie and Josh. To fulfill the prophecy, Flamel must shuttle the twins to insane Gilgamesh for water-magic training. Though point of view continues to be confusing, readers will be rewarded by the story's complex plot, including thrilling escapes and ancient legends. (c) Copyright 2010. The Horn Book, Inc., a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted. All rights reserved.

(c) Copyright The Horn Book, Inc., a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.

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Review by Kirkus Book Review

Weaving yet more figures from history and myth into the third of his six-volume fantasy, Scott whisks teenage twins Sophie and Josh to London, the stronghold of archnemesis John Dee, for an encounter with Gilgamesha half-senile street bum in this era but a master of Water Magic and the oldest human immortal of them all. The twins feel their ways into new powers in the course of a running battle toward (where else?) Stonehenge with the Horned God, the Wild Hunt and other foes. Meanwhile, on the other side of the world, their guardian Flamel's gifted wife Pernelle survives clouds of poisonous insects and attacks from the octopus-legged Old Man of the Sea to escape from Alcatraz Island. Master yarnspinner that he is, Scott expertly cranks up the suspense while keeping his now-large cast in quick motion. He also continues to blur the line between the two sides, injecting notes of ambiguity that will leave readers wondering. Ending in a welter of revelations, reunions and unresolved plotlines, this page-turner promises plenty of action to come. (Fantasy. 11-13) Copyright Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.

Copyright (c) Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.

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"I think I see them." The young man in the green parka standing directly beneath the huge circular clock in St. Pancras station took the phone away from his ear and checked a blurred image on the screen. The English Magician had sent the image: the picture was grainy, the colors washed and faded, and it looked liked it had been taken from an overhead security camera. It showed an older man with short gray hair, accompanied by two blond-haired teens, climbing onto a train. Rising up on his toes, the young man swiveled his head, looking for the trio he'd glimpsed. For a moment, he thought he'd lost them in the milling crowd, but even if he had, they wouldn't get far: one of his sisters was downstairs; another was in the street outside, watching the entrance. Now, where had the old man and the teenagers gone? Narrow, pinched nostrils opened wide as the young man sorted through the countless scents in the station. He identified and dismissed the mixed stink of too many humani, the myriad perfumes and deodorants, the gels and pastes, the greasy odor of fried food from the station's restaurants, the richer aroma of coffee and the metallic oily tang of the train engines and carriages. He closed his eyes and tilted his head back. The odors he was seeking were older, wilder, unnatural. . . . There! Mint: just the merest suggestion. Orange: no more than the vaguest hint. Vanilla: little more than a trace. Hidden behind small rectangular sunglasses, blue-black eyes opened wide and his head swiveled, following the gossamer threads of scent through the vast train station. He had them now! The gray-haired older man, wearing black jeans and a scuffed leather jacket, was striding down the station concourse directly toward him. There was a small overnight case in his left hand. He was followed by the two teenagers, alike enough to be brother and sister. The boy was taller than the girl, and they were both wearing backpacks. The young man snapped a quick picture with his cell phone camera and sent it to Dr. John Dee. Although he had nothing but contempt for the English Magician, there was no point in making an enemy of him. Dee was the agent of the most dangerous of all the Elders. Pulling the hood of his parka over his head, he turned away as the trio drew level with him, and dialed his sister, who was waiting downstairs. "It's definitely Flamel and the twins," he murmured into the phone, speaking the ancient language that had eventually become Gaelic. "They're heading in your direction. We'll take them when they get onto the Euston Road." The young man in the hooded parka set off after the Alchemyst and the American twins. He moved easily through the early-afternoon crowd, looking like just another teenager, anonymous and unnoticed in his sloppy jeans, scuffed sneakers and overlarge coat, his head and face concealed by the hood, his eyes invisible behind the sunglasses. Despite his form, the young man had never been remotely human. He and his sisters had first come to this land when it was still joined to the European continent, and for generations they had been worshipped as gods. He bitterly resented being ordered about by Dee-who was, after all, nothing more than a humani. But the English Magician had promised the hooded boy a delectable prize: Nicholas Flamel, the legendary Alchemyst. Dee's instructions were clear; he and his sisters could have Flamel, but the twins must not be touched. The boy's thin lips twisted. His sisters would take the boy and girl, while he would have the honor of killing Flamel. A coal-black tongue licked cracked dry lips. He and his sisters would feast for weeks. And, of course, they would keep the tastiest morsels for Mother. Nicholas Flamel slowed, allowing Sophie and Josh to catch up with him. Forcing Excerpted from The Sorceress by Michael Scott All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.

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