Magickeepers: The Eternal Hourglass (11 page)

He said the last words so tersely, that Nick could see Damian's jaw clenching.

“Fine!” Nick whipped himself away from Damian, who had draped an arm across Nick's shoulder, and marched over to the horse.

Sergei had watched the two of them, his face pale. “You do not want to get Damian angry,” he whispered.

Nick looked over his shoulder, right at Damian. “I don’t care.”

“It is a serious mistake, my little friend.”

“He's being a jerk.”

“Listen,” Sergei whispered. “He turned my fourth cousin into a pig. Eventually, he turned him back, but he still oinks sometimes. Just don’t cross him.”

Nick turned back to look up at the horse. Up close, it was even more magnificent. Its coat gleamed as if Sergei had brushed it a thousand times, ten thousand times, before bringing it to the theater. Nick touched the horse's side, the muscles rippling, alive, strong.

“Fine. What's the horse's name?”

“Maslow.”

“Hey, Maslow,” Nick whispered. The horse startled again, rising up on his hind legs. Nick's heart pounded. He had never been on a pony ride, let alone a horse like this.

The entire theater of performers—all the family—stared at him and the horse. He moved closer to the horse. “Come on, Maslow,” Nick said softly. He touched the saddle and the horse bucked insanely, his black eyes wild, looking frightened, deranged even.

Damian stormed toward Sergei. “Has this horse been broken properly? And don’t lie to me.”

“Well…” Sergei turned his palms upward. “You wanted an Akhal-Teke. They are wild, Damian. You know that. They are not like any other horse in the world.”

“Leave him to me!” a woman's voice rang out.

Across the stage, Irina strode, chin high and haughty. Nick
held his breath. She walked like a dancer, long legs striding gracefully, like she was floating. Nick looked over at Damian, and saw that he was flushed. Damian—
the
Damian—was mesmerized by her. His cousin stared at Irina.

Her heels clicked on the stage. She reached Maslow and patted the horse on his neck. Then she took the reins and pulled the horse's head ever so slightly toward her, forcing it to bend. She whispered in the horse's ear in Russian. Nick had no idea what she was saying, but her voice was commanding and powerful. She continued to speak to the horse. When she was done, she released the reins with a flourish and clapped her hands three times. She looked over at Damian, a satisfied expression on her face.

“There is always the easy way around these problems,” she murmured. “And
your
way.”

She took Nick's hand. “Maslow will listen to you now. He will never harm you and will protect you—to the death.”

Nick thought of the polar bears. He hoped it never came to that point.

“Come on.” She led him to the horse and helped him mount the Akhal-Teke. She placed the reins in his hands.

“You just have to
think
about where you want to go now. Don’t worry about the reins so much.
Will
the horse where you want him to go. Become
one
with him. He will listen now.”

Nick nodded. The ground looked a long… long… long way down. The horse twitched, and he could feel his power. He took the reins and figured he might as well aim for the far corner of the theater. He shut his eyes for a moment, as he did when he tried to conjure up his hedgehog. Nothing happened. So he took a deep breath. He forgot about Irina and Isabella, about the polar bears and the Shadowkeepers. He forgot about Damian. He most especially forgot that his cousin wanted him to perform in front of thousands of people in two weeks.

And a funny thing happened. He felt the horse move. Then he could hear the clip, clip, clopping on the wooden floor. Maslow picked up speed. Nick opened his eyes and saw that Maslow was galloping across the theater, the hot lights and the red velvet seats just a blur. He had never moved so fast before—except on a roller coaster. He held on, terrified of falling, but also feeling as one with the horse. Finally, with a last leap, the horse landed precisely on the spot where Damian told him. Nick was breathless, and he felt the horse's sides heaving in and out. Nick leaned down to pat his horse's neck.

Down on the stage, he saw what he thought was the faintest of smiles cross Damian's mouth. His cousin crossed his arms.

Nick scratched behind the horse's ears as it whinnied softly. “Attaboy, Maslow,” he said. “We’ll show Damian yet.”

A
FTER HE HAD REHEARSED EVERYTHING BUT CHANGING Isabella into Sascha, and after he had done it a hundred times, until his legs were sore and his butt was numb in the saddle, Nick dismounted, his growling stomach reminding him it was time to eat.

He was about to head with the family to the elevators up to the top floor when, in the back of the theater, he saw his grandfather. Nick waved wildly and, sore legs aside, ran down the stage steps and up the aisle, bear-hugging his mother's father.

“Man, it's good to see you,” he smiled at Grandpa.

His grandfather ruffled his hair and hugged him back fiercely, his voice choked off. “Good to see you, too.”

Nick looked up at his grandfather. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Come on, my boy,” his grandfather said. “Let's go for a walk.”

Nick nodded, glancing over his shoulder. He saw Damian staring at him. The heck with him. This was his grandfather.

The two of them strolled out into the lobby. Tourists were marveling at the snow-topped onion domes.

“How do they do it?” said one man with so many cameras slung around his neck, Nick was surprised he wasn’t hunchbacked.

“I hear it's soap powder. Like Disney does,” offered a woman, obviously his wife, with dyed red hair that matched the lobster red of her sunburned skin, and wearing a Hawaiian-themed dress with hula dancers on it.

Nick and Grandpa moved through the lobby. Nick looked all around for Shadowkeepers but didn’t see any.

“They’re not here, if that's what you’re worried about,” his grandfather said.

Nick's eyes widened. “You know about them?”

His grandfather nodded.

“What else do you know?”

The old man exhaled. “I know, Kolya, that you are better off here.”

“How? How can I be better off here? Don’t you miss me? Don’t you
want
me? They have me riding some crazy horse, eating food that would make you throw up.”

“That food is your heritage. But I did bring you something.” His grandfather reached into his pocket and pulled out a fast-food cheeseburger, still warm, wrapped in brightly hued paper.

“All right!” Nick unwrapped it and took a huge bite, savoring the smell, the pickle, the ketchup—all of it. With a mouth full of cheeseburger, he tried to swallow as he kept talking. “Their food is gross. And I don’t have a TV. I don’t have video games. I don’t have my skateboard. I don’t have anything but this crazy family I didn’t even know I had, who all talk in spells and riddles. And Russian! And last night, a Shadowkeeper tried to kill me, and I almost drowned.”

As he said that, his ribs reminded him just how close he had come to drowning.

Grandpa looked at him, fear registering in his eyes. “They came here? They got past Damian's security?”

Nick nodded. “I’m not safe here.”

“Kolya, you aren’t safe anywhere else but here.”

“But I don’t understand.”

“Come sit down.”

Grandpa led him to a small velvet couch by a huge potted plant with blue flowers. Nick finished scarfing down his burger and crumpled the paper into a ball.

“These grow in Russia,” Grandpa said, touching a bloom that hung like a bell off the vine of the plant.

“I didn’t know you were from Russia. I mean, I knew like a long, long time ago that you were from somewhere else. But I didn’t know any of this. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“It was safer that way, Kolya. Your mother thought that if she married an ordinary human, if she changed her hair color, if she moved to an innocuous little Vegas hotel and worked as a magician's assistant, then no one would know where you were. She wanted to blend in among the ordinary. It didn’t work. After she…died…a spell of protection was cast over you.” Grandpa lowered his voice and leaned to whisper in Nick's ear. “Remember these words:
Oberezhnyj scheet predkov hranit menia.”

As soon as Grandpa uttered the spell, the key warmed against Nick's chest and a hot breeze caressed his face. Suddenly, there was a flash in his mind, as if he was looking in a crystal ball—only his crystal ball was back in his room.

“What?” his grandfather asked.

Nick felt dizzy, and he reached his hands out to steady himself on the couch. He saw something so clearly that it was as if it stood there in front of him—only he knew it was in his mind.

“You see something, don’t you?’ Grandpa asked.

Nick nodded. “I saw something. I mean, it made no sense. I saw Damian. Younger. His hair was longer. And I saw Theo. And my mother was there. But it seemed so real.”

“What has Theo taught you about ball gazing?”

“Just that I have to approach the ball with an open heart. A pure heart.”

“But has he talked to you about being a Gazer? About the bloodline?”

Nick shook his head. “Not really.”

“A powerful Gazer will have flashes from the ball even when the ball isn’t there. What you saw—that was from your ball. Theo obviously chose your ball well.”

“He said it was my great-grandmother's.”

Grandpa started laughing.

“What's so funny?”

“Your great-grandmother was my mother-in-law, the old battle-ax. But she sure was powerful. It's a great ball. And it's communicating with you. And the more you use it, the more you understand its power, the stronger your abilities will become.”

“How do you know all this?”

“I was once part of this family, too, Nick. But Damian and I had a disagreement, shall we say. Over a relic. And I decided to leave. Shortly afterward, your mother left, too. But now, I can see Damian was right, Nick. You are safer here.”

“But if there was a spell of protection, how come they nearly killed me?”

“The spell was only protection until the year of your becoming a man.”

“Eighteen?”

“No. Thirteen. And perhaps two days before your birthday, I saw a shadow cross over the sidewalk outside the Pendragon. I knew they would come for you, Kolya.”

“So why don’t we just…move? Go somewhere else? You used to tell me stories about New York. You loved New York. And what about San Francisco? I’ve never even seen the ocean.”

His grandfather shook his head. “It's not so simple. I can’t keep you safe. Your grandmother's lineage—that's Damian's—was more powerful than my own. And your father…” His grandfather looked down at his hands. “Much as he loves you, he can’t keep you safe at all, Kolya.”

“So I’m stuck here.” He thought of Isabella never going to a regular school, never eating pizza, never knowing life outside the hotel. It felt like a prison, even though it was one of the most famous and glamorous places on earth.

“I’m afraid so.”

Nick looked down. He unbuttoned his shirt and moved aside the key. A red imprint, like a bad sunburn, had formed the outline of the key against his chest. Nick swallowed hard. “What does this open, Grandpa? It's burning me.”

“I don’t know. The only thing I do know is she died protecting it.”

“I thought she got sick, Grandpa.”

His grandfather wiped at his eyes. “I can’t talk about this. But it's up to you. Find out what that key unlocks, and maybe it can keep you safe from them.” He shook his head. “In the meantime, Kolya, learn everything you can. The stronger a magician you are, the safer you’ll be.”

Nick shook his head, feeling a rock in his stomach. “But I can’t. I’m not Damian. I’m not Theo. Grandpa, I made a hedgehog move. Big deal. Come on. Those Shadowkeepers… what chance do I ever have against them?”

“You have something they don’t have.”

“What?”

Grandpa stood. “You have the family, Nick.”

From across the lobby, he saw his father walking toward him carrying a shopping bag.

“Why don’t you and Dad stay here, too?”

His grandfather shook his head. “That's not a good idea, Nick. Not right now.”

When his father reached them, he hugged Nick. “How are you?”

Nick looked up at his dad. His father used to seem so much taller—Nick's head always hit somewhere on his dad's chest when they hugged. Now, he could almost look him in the eyes. His father's eyes were rimmed red, and he was pale. Now he knew why his grandfather thought it best to keep things how they were—at least for now.

“I’m okay, Dad. I don’t want you to worry. They are taking really good care of me, and except for the fact that there's no pizza and cheeseburgers, it's great.” He tried to muster up all the fake enthusiasm he could, like when he used to tell his dad that his act at the Pendragon was awesome.

“You with no cheeseburgers? Come on.” His dad winked at him.

“How come you didn’t tell me about her?” Nick asked.

“I thought that maybe it would all just go away, Nick. That they would forget about you. Part of me didn’t really understand. Not fully. All this talk of bloodlines, I thought it was just your grandfather being proud of your heritage. I thought it was just a lot of talk.”