Magickeepers: The Eternal Hourglass (17 page)

“We can’t have the show tomorrow night,” Nick said. “We’d be crazy to have the show.”

Damian stood, his face impassive. So Nick turned to Theo. “Come on. You don’t think we should go on. What if he's planning on doing something? What if he tries to kill me? Or the Grand Duchess?”

Theo whispered, “It's out of my hands, Kolya. Out of my hands.” He gestured as though he was washing his palms.

“You’ve got to be kidding me! Why do you listen to Damian? Why is he in charge? He doesn’t listen to anyone. All he cares about is his face blown up two stories high on posters. He wants to be famous, and he doesn’t care who gets hurt.”

Irina put a hand on Nick's arm. “Hush, Nick. It's not like that.”

He wrested his arm away from her. “It
is
like that. He doesn’t listen. He's just an arrogant jerk! He’ll end up killing us all.”

With that, he pushed past Irina, Theo, and Damian and ran out into the hallway and back down to his room. He commanded the door to open, then shut the door and locked it. He didn’t care what Damian wanted. He just wouldn’t show up for the stupid show tomorrow. He would run away. He’d go back to the Pendragon. To Grandpa. To his dad. Forget about the whole show and this crazy family with their awful food.

He would skateboard, and he’d study harder and get a B in math this year—that had to be easier than studying Russian. He’d play video games, and he would pretend he never had a crystal ball, never saw a vision, never rode an Akhal-Teke.

But even as he thought it, he knew he couldn’t. He couldn’t leave this life. That man—the crazed monk, the
Shadowkeepers’ leader—would find him. He’d put his dad and grandpa in danger. Rasputin could make them sick and kill them just as he had Harry Houdini.

So he would run away on his own.

That thought scared him, too. He had no money. What would he live on? How far could he get all alone?

And then he looked around the room.

His mother's things. That very first night in his room, they told him everything in here was hers; it was her room as she left it, his inheritance.

He ran to his dresser and picked up her brush and comb set. It was heavy and silver. That had to be worth something.

He looked over at the shelves. The eggs! The jewel-encrusted eggs! They glittered with emeralds and gold. They had to be worth a fortune. Heck, he could get all the way to Belize if he sold them. He could run away, and no one would ever find him.

And then he felt an icy chill pass over him, even as the key burned hotter than ever.

The Grand Duchess's words rang in his head.

He stole from us. Imperial eggs, where I used to hide my treasures and jewels.

“That's it. The eggs!”

He ran to the shelf where four eggs sat. The Grand Duchess's family had eggs made for them—rare, jeweled
eggs. People hid things in them. He pulled the key from around his neck.

All four of the eggs in his room had small locks that never would have fit the key. But he knew about another egg— the biggest, grandest egg, encrusted in gold and jewels, and covered in a beautiful, cobalt blue enamel. That egg had a larger keyhole.

The one in the vault.

He would break into the vault, open the egg, and get whatever was inside. He touched the key, and it burned hotter than it ever had and throbbed against his heart, beating time with his own heartbeat. That was it. Whatever Rasputin wanted was in his mother's egg inside that vault. And he was the rightful heir to that egg, so it wasn’t exactly like stealing.

Nick ran over to his ball. “Rasputin,” he whispered. “Rasputin!”

He touched his ball. Nothing happened.

Pure of heart. Pure of heart.

“Look,” Nick spoke to his ball. “I’m not doing this for me. I’m doing it for my family. I don’t want them harmed. What he wants, my mother took from him. I know it. I need to make a deal with him.”

He took several deep breaths, and the ball grew hazy.

“Hey! Nick!”

“Sergei,” Nick hissed. “Get out of here. Now! Not today.”

“No, listen. I found a tap-dancing llama. He's got to be seen to be believed. I’m teaching him to do the
Barynya.”

“What's that?”

“Russian folk dance. Your family will love it. He's cheap, too. Come on, Nicholai, do me a favor. Talk to Damian.”

Nick gritted his teeth. “Sergei, I’m telling you—not now. Come back in a couple of days.” He added, under his breath, “If I survive.”

“Fine. But a llama like this won’t last long.”

Sergei disappeared, and the ball grew black, an oily black. Nick knew Rasputin was near.

“You summoned me?” The monk's face appeared inside the orb. “Do you have what I am seeking?”

“I’ll have it tomorrow night, after the show.”

“Where shall we meet?”

“Not so fast. I want to strike a deal.”

“What kind of deal? I thought you were going to join me, leave these people with their rules and their superstitions like Russian peasants.”

“I’ll join you—on the condition you leave them alone. Forever.”

The monk was silent, and then smiled. “It is a deal. Provided you have what I seek.”

“Then we meet in the desert.”

“I’ll find you.”

“Remember our bargain.”

“Of course. I always honor my bargains.”

The crystal ball went dark. Nick stared into its cool clarity again. He knew Rasputin was a liar, but he had no choice. He hoped he knew what he was doing.

N
ICK SPENT ALL NIGHT FORMULATING HIS PLAN. HE didn’t tell anyone, not even Isabella.

The next day, he ate breakfast with the family, feeling sick to his stomach. He was planning on facing down the Shadowkeepers. That was scary enough.

But first, he had to perform in front of thousands of people tonight. If he was being honest with himself, Nick didn’t know which scared him more. He kind of thought it was performing. Then there was the teeny-tiny little matter of breaking into the vault, stealing his mother's egg, and meeting up with the monk who brought evil into the casino.

Damian ordered him to “rest” before the show. How was he supposed to do that? He went to his room and found himself pacing back and forth, back and forth. He took his
skateboard out from under the bed, where he hid it, and he slid it across his bedroom floor. If everything went right, he might even be able to go back to being a normal kid. About two hours before show time, he heard a knock on his door. When he opened it, Theo stood there.

“Can I come in?”

Nick nodded.

Theo entered his room. He placed a crystal ball on the bed.

“What? I have my own ball.”

“Look,” Theo commanded. “This ball belongs to me. It's very powerful.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Look… and you will.”

Nick took a deep breath and stared into the ball. At first, he couldn’t see anything. But then a woman came into focus. It was his mother.

And Theo and Damian were there. Damian was leaning over a baby.

“Is that me?” Nick whispered.

“Yes.”

Nick exhaled in amazement and watched the scene unfold.

“I told you, I’m not coming back. Not now. Not ever.” His mother crossed her arms. Her hair was beautiful and shiny and fell down to her waist. “I won’t leave this place.”

“Surely, cousin dearest, you cannot be happy married to a human. A mortal who is, I might add, a terrible illusionist,” Damian said. He shuddered dramatically, as if trying to shake off a horrid image from his mind.

She picked up the chubby little baby and handed him a silver rattle. The baby cooed and giggled.

“I am very happy here, Damian. I love my husband.”

“How is that possible?”

“Because for once, it's not about the family, the clan, the magic, the Shadowkeepers, the battle. It's about me, and my husband, and this baby. It's about my own life.”

“But this baby has a
destiny
, Tatyana, that not even you can deny.”

“No. I won’t allow it!” She stamped her foot. “He's going to grow up far from you. From your influence. Far from the Grand Duchess. Far from the prophecy.”

Theo stepped between her and Damian and knelt down in front of her. “You don’t understand, my darling.”

“What?”

“You cannot hide from a prophecy. It's prophetic. That means it's fulfilled, no matter what. You cannot hide a prince and stop him from being a prince. You cannot take a light,
hide it under a thick velvet blanket, and stop it from being a light. You cannot take your magic and stop using it and not be a Magickeeper anymore. You are, whether you choose to use your magic or not. It would be like humans with type O blood. You can’t
decide
you don’t want type O blood running through your veins, because it's there nonetheless.”

“No.” Her lip quivered. “I won’t let you near him. I want you both to leave. I want you to leave now.”

Damian snapped, “Fine!”

But Theo didn’t stand up.

Damian stormed to the door. “Theo! Now!”

“I’ll be there in a minute.”

“You’re wasting your time. She's stubborn as a mule, just like when we were children. I’ll meet you downstairs.”

Damian opened the door, walked through, and then slammed it.

“Let me whisper a protection spell over him.”

She nodded.

“Oberezhnyj scheet predkov hranit menia. Oberezhnyj scheet predkov hranit menia. Oberezhnyj scheet predkov hranit menia
.” Theo touched the baby's forehead.

“I’m not coming back, Theo.”

“We can’t protect you out there alone.”

“I can protect myself.”

“What is that key? That key around your neck?”

She closed her blouse, buttoning the top button. “Don’t concern yourself, Theo. It's my insurance policy. If they find me, I will make a trade. The key for my child being left alone.”

“Don’t. Don’t be naïve. You cannot negotiate with them. They cannot be trusted.”

“Please, Theo. Just go. You call attention to me by being here. Their spies are everywhere.”

“We weren’t followed. We made sure of that.”

“Just go.”

“I love you, Tatyana.”

She sniffled. “I love you, too, Theo. You were always my favorite. The one to protect me from your bully of a brother.”

“He cares about you, about the clan. He loves you. He loves us all.”

She nodded. “But he loves himself most of all.”

Theo stood and leaned in to kiss her cheek. He lingered a moment, stroked her chin, and then turned to leave. But first, he looked down at the child and touched the baby's soft, dark hair. “He's beautiful. He really is.”

She nodded. “I’m so sorry, Theo.”

He shook his head sadly. “I’m sorry, too. Good-bye,” he said, and shut the door behind him.

Tatyana rocked the baby.
“Oberezhnyj scheet predkov hranit menia. Oberezhnyj scheet predkov hranit menia. Oberezhnyj scheet predkov hranit menia
.”

She brought the baby into the bedroom and put him in his simple wooden crib. At the foot of the bed sat a large trunk with a brass clasp. She opened the trunk and pulled out the Eternal Hourglass. She touched its gold rim, then shook her head and put it away, shutting the trunk.

She leaned over the baby's crib. “Oh, little Kolya, your grandfather won the Eternal Hourglass in a poker game. I told him it was trouble—it brings too much attention. But he’ll never change. Always on the hunt for relics. But this one…this one is too dangerous. I’m going to destroy it to protect us all.”

Suddenly, black smoke appeared from under the door, just wisps at first, but increasing until it crawled like a demon's fingers along the floor, pooling like an oil slick.

Tatyana rose and screamed the words,
“Oberezhnyj scheet predkov hranit menia!”

The smoke swirled around her and the baby. Tatyana coughed and screamed. The baby cried in fear.

Soon, there was only blackness.