{"product_id":"the-alchemyst-isbn-9780385736008","title":"The Alchemyst","description":"\u003cb\u003eNicholas Flamel appeared in J.K. Rowling’s \u003ci\u003eHarry Potter\u003c\/i\u003e—but did you know he really lived? And his secrets aren't safe!\u003c\/b\u003e\u003ci\u003e \u003c\/i\u003e\u003cb\u003eDiscover the truth in book one of the \u003ci\u003eNew York Times\u003c\/i\u003e bestselling series the Secrets of the Immortal Nicholas Flamel.\u003c\/b\u003e \u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e \u003cu\u003eThe truth:\u003c\/u\u003e Nicholas Flamel's tomb is empty. \u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e \u003cu\u003eThe legend:\u003c\/u\u003e Nicholas Flamel lives.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e   Nicholas Flamel is the greatest Alchemyst to ever live. The records show that he died in 1418, but what if he's actually been making the elixir of life for centuries?\u003cbr\u003e    The secrets to eternal life are hidden within the book he protects—the Book of Abraham the Mage. It's the most powerful book that has ever existed, and in the wrong hands, it will destroy the world. And that's exactly what Dr. John Dee plans to do when he steals it. \u003cbr\u003e    There is one hope. If the prophecy is true, Sophie and Josh Newman have the power to save everyone. Now they just have to learn to use it.  \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e “The Secrets of the Immortal Nicholas Flamel has \u003cb\u003eeverything you loved about Harry Potter\u003c\/b\u003e, including \u003cb\u003emagic, mystery, and a constant battle of good versus evil.\u003c\/b\u003e”—\u003ci\u003eBustle\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cb\u003e\u003cu\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/u\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e \u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003e\u003cu\u003eRead the whole series!\u003c\/u\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003eThe Alchemyst\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003eThe Magician\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003eThe Sorceress\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003eThe Necromancer\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003eThe Warlock\u003c\/i\u003e \u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003eThe Enchantress\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cu\u003ePraise for The Secrets of the Immortal Nicholas Flamel series:\u003c\/u\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cb\u003eA \u003ci\u003eNew York Times \u003c\/i\u003eBestselling Series\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cb\u003eA \u003ci\u003eUSA Today\u003c\/i\u003e Bestseller\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cb\u003eA Kids' Indie Next List Selection\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cb\u003eA New York Public Library Book for the Teen Age\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cb\u003eAn ILA Young Adult Choice Book\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cb\u003eAn ILA Children’s Choice Winner\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“The Secrets of the Immortal Nicholas Flamel has \u003cb\u003e\u003cb\u003eeverything you loved about Harry Potter\u003c\/b\u003e, \u003c\/b\u003eincluding\u003cb\u003e \u003cb\u003emagic, mystery, and a constant battle of good versus evil.\u003c\/b\u003e”—\u003c\/b\u003e\u003ci\u003eBustle\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003e\u003cb\u003e \u003c\/b\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e \u003cbr\u003e \u003cb\u003e★ \u003c\/b\u003e“\u003cb\u003e[A] riveting fantasy\u003c\/b\u003e . . . fabulous read.” —School Library Journal, Starred\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e \u003cb\u003e★ \u003c\/b\u003e“\u003cb\u003eReaders will be swept up.\u003c\/b\u003e” —Kirkus Reviews, Starred\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e “\u003cb\u003eFans of \u003c\/b\u003eadventure fantasies like \u003cb\u003eRick Riordan’s Percy Jackson and the Olympians series will eat this one up.\u003c\/b\u003e” —VOYA\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e “An exciting and impeccably thought-out fantasy, \u003cb\u003ewell-suited for those left in the lurch by Harry Potter’s recent exeunt.\u003c\/b\u003e” —Booklist\u003cp\u003eMichael Scott is an authority on mythology and folklore and one of Ireland’s most successful authors. A master of fantasy, science fiction, horror, and folklore, Michael has been hailed by the Irish Times as “the King of Fantasy in these isles.” He is the \u003ci\u003eNew York Times\u003c\/i\u003e bestselling author of The Secrets of the Immortal Nicholas Flamel series: \u003ci\u003eThe Alchemyst\u003c\/i\u003e, \u003ci\u003eThe Magician\u003c\/i\u003e, \u003ci\u003eThe Sorceress\u003c\/i\u003e, \u003ci\u003eThe Necromancer\u003c\/i\u003e, \u003ci\u003eThe Warlock\u003c\/i\u003e, and \u003ci\u003eThe Enchantress\u003c\/i\u003e. You can follow Michael Scott on Twitter @flamelauthor and visit him at DillonScott.com.\u003c\/p\u003eCHAPTER ONE\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e “OK—answer me this: why would anyone want to wear an overcoat in San  Francisco in the middle of summer?” Sophie Newman pressed her fingers against the  Bluetooth earpiece as she spoke.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e On the other side of the continent, her fashion-conscious  friend Elle inquired matter-of-factly, “What sort of coat?”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Wiping her hands on  the cloth tucked into her apron strings, Sophie moved out from behind the counter  of the empty coffee shop and stepped up to the window, watching men emerge from the  car across the street. “Heavy black wool overcoats. They’re even wearing black gloves  and hats. And sunglasses.” She pressed her face against the glass. “Even for this  city, that’s just a little too weird.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e “Maybe they’re undertakers?” Elle suggested,  her voice popping and clicking on the cell phone. Sophie could hear something loud  and dismal playing in the background— Lacrimosa maybe, or Amorphis. Elle had never  quite got over her Goth phase.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e “Maybe,” Sophie answered, sounding unconvinced. She’ d been chatting on the phone with her friend when, a few moments earlier, she’d spotted  the unusual-looking car. It was long and sleek and looked as if it belonged in an  old black-and-white movie. As it drove past the window, sunlight reflected off the  blacked-out windows, briefly illuminating the interior of the coffee shop in warm  yellow-gold light, blinding Sophie. Blinking away the black spots dancing before  her eyes, she watched as the car turned at the bottom of the hill and slowly returned.  Without signaling, it pulled over directly in front of The Small Book Shop, right  across the street.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e “Maybe they’re Mafia,” Elle suggested dramatically. “My dad knows  someone in the Mafia. But he drives a Prius,” she added.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e “This is most definitely  not a Prius,” Sophie said, looking again at the car and the two large men standing  on the street bundled up in their heavy overcoats, gloves and hats, their eyes hidden  behind overlarge sunglasses.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e “Maybe they’re just cold,” Elle suggested. “Doesn’t  it get cool in San Francisco?”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Sophie Newman glanced at the clock and thermometer  on the wall over the counter behind her. “It’s two-fifteen here . . . and eighty-one  degrees,” she said. “Trust me, they’re not cold. They must be dying. Wait,” she said,  interrupting herself, “something’s happening.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e The rear door opened and another  man, even larger than the first two, climbed stiffly out of the car. As he closed  the door, sunlight briefly touched his face and Sophie caught a glimpse of pale,  unhealthy-looking gray-white skin. She adjusted the volume on the earpiece. “OK.  You should see what just climbed out of the car. A huge guy with gray skin. Gray.  That might explain it; maybe they have some type of skin condition.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e “I saw a National  Geographic documentary about people who can’t go out in the sun . . . ,” Elle began,  but Sophie was no longer listening to her.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e A fourth figure stepped out of the car.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e He was a small, rather dapper-looking man, dressed in a neat charcoal-gray three-piece  suit that looked vaguely old-fashioned but that she could tell had been tailor-made  for him. His iron gray hair was pulled back from an angular face into a tight ponytail,  while a neat triangular beard, mostly black but flecked with gray, concealed his  mouth and chin. He moved away from the car and stepped under the striped awning that  covered the trays of books outside the shop. When he picked up a brightly colored  paperback and turned it over in his hands, Sophie noticed that he was wearing gray  gloves. A pearl button at the wrist winked in the light.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e “They’re going into the  bookshop,” she said into her earpiece.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e “Is Josh still working there?” Elle immediately  asked.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Sophie ignored the sudden interest in her friend’s voice. The fact that her  best friend liked her twin brother was just a little too weird. “Yeah. I’m going  to call him to see what’s up. I’ll call you right back.” She hung up, pulled out  the earpiece and absently rubbed her hot ear as she stared, fascinated, at the small  man. There was something about him . . . something odd. Maybe he was a fashion designer,  she thought, or a movie producer, or maybe he was an author—she’d noticed that some  authors liked to dress up in peculiar outfits. She’d give him a few minutes to get  into the shop, then she’d call her twin for a report.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Sophie was about to turn away  when the gray man suddenly spun around and seemed to stare directly at her. As he  stood under the awning, his face was in shadow, and yet for just the briefest instant,  his eyes looked as if they were glowing.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Sophie knew—just knew—that there was no  possible way for the small gray man to see her: she was standing on the opposite  side of the street behind a pane of glass that was bright with reflected early-afternoon  sunlight. She would be invisible in the gloom behind the glass.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e And yet . . .\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e And  yet in that single moment when their eyes met, Sophie felt the tiny hairs on the  back of her hands and along her forearms tingle and felt a puff of cold air touch  the back of her neck. She rolled her shoulders, turning her head slightly from side  to side, strands of her long blond hair curling across her cheek. The contact lasted  only a second before the small man looked away, but Sophie got the impression that  he had looked directly at her.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e In the instant before the gray man and his three  overdressed companions disappeared into the bookshop, Sophie decided that she did  not like him.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e G G G\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Peppermint.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e And rotten eggs.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e “That is just vile.” Josh Newman  stood in the center of the bookstore’s cellar and breathed deeply. Where were those  smells coming from? He looked around at the shelves stacked high with books and wondered  if something had crawled in behind them and died. What else would account for such  a foul stink? The tiny cramped cellar always smelled dry and musty, the air heavy  with the odors of parched curling paper, mingled with the richer aroma of old leather  bindings and dusty cobwebs. He loved the smell; he always thought it was warm and  comforting, like the scents of cinnamon and spices that he associated with Christmas.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Peppermint.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Sharp and clean, the smell cut through the close cellar atmosphere.  It was the odor of new toothpaste or those herbal teas his sister served in the coffee  shop across the road. It sliced though the heavier smells of leather and paper, and  was so strong that it made his sinuses tingle; he felt as if he was going to sneeze  at any moment. He quickly pulled out his iPod earbuds. Sneezing with headphones on  was not a good idea: made your ears pop.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Eggs.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Foul and stinking—he recognized  the sulfurous odor of rotten eggs. It blanketed the clear odor of mint . . . and  it was disgusting. He could feel the stench coating his tongue and lips, and his  scalp began to itch as if something were crawling through it. Josh ran his fingers  through his shaggy blond hair and shuddered. The drains must be backing up.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Leaving  the earbuds dangling over his shoulders, he checked the book list in his hand, then  looked at the shelves again: The Complete Works of Charles Dickens, twenty-seven  volumes, red leather binding. Now where was he going to find that?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Josh had been  working in the bookshop for nearly two months and still didn’t have the faintest  idea where anything was. There was no filing system . . . or rather, there was a  system, but it was known only to Nick and Perry Fleming, the owners of The Small  Book Shop. Nick or his wife could put their hands on any book in either the shop  upstairs or the cellar in a matter of minutes.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e A wave of peppermint, immediately  followed by rotten eggs, filled the air again; Josh coughed and felt his eyes water.  This was impossible! Stuffing the book list into one pocket of his jeans and the  headphones into the other, he maneuvered his way through the piled books and stacks  of boxes, heading for the stairs. He couldn’t spend another minute down there with  the smell. He rubbed the heels of his palms against his eyes, which were now stinging  furiously. Grabbing the stair rail, he pulled himself up. He needed a breath of fresh  air or he was going to throw up—but, strangely, the closer he came to the top of  the stairs, the stronger the odors became.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e He popped his head out of the cellar  door and looked around.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e And in that instant, Josh Newman realized that the world  would never be the same again.","brand":"Ember","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":46304543080677,"sku":"NP9780385736008","price":11.99,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":false}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/1842\/7735\/files\/9780385736008.jpg?v=1767738042","url":"https:\/\/k12savings.com\/products\/the-alchemyst-isbn-9780385736008","provider":"K12savings","version":"1.0","type":"link"}