happening to you."
"I'll be fine."
"Look, son, I know you want to prove yourself as a Magickeeper. I know you want to show the family that you belong here, that you will be as great someday as your cousins. But you are still learning—still training. Damian and Theo have been working at their skills their entire lives. You can't do what they do yet."
"I promise I'll be fine. It's you I worry about." Nick didn't want to point out the obvious. He had magic—even if he was learning, he had it deep down inside. His father did not— unless Nick wanted to count his dad pulling a rabbit out of a hat or the old pull-a-quarter-from-behind-the-ear trick. And his dad wasn't even very good at those.
"Your grandfather and I will be very busy this week. We will be taking some of the convention-goers on a trip to the Hoover Dam. You should come. You…"
His father didn't have to complete the thought. Nick knew what he had been about to say: You might be safer ther e than here.
"Nah." Nick had never been to the Hoover Dam anyway. He wasn't sure what Damian would think of the trip. Damian did not allow Nick or Isabella to leave the hotel grounds. Then again, sometimes what Damian didn't know wouldn't hurt him…
Sometimes, but probably not this time.
***
Nick and Isabella watched the Magickeepers checking into the hotel. Every few minutes, it seemed, cars arrived, and out poured people from all over the world. Or they simply materialized from nowhere.
The clan from Nigeria was very tall, with high cheekbones and almond-shaped, dark eyes. They wore brightly colored scarves wrapped intricately around their heads. The men carried long, carved staffs. Nick looked closely and realized that the carvings were of animals—and that the animals blinked and moved. One snake slithered up and down, up and down, coiling itself around the cane. The clan's rattan suitcases bulged with mysteries Nick was excited to learn about.
Next to arrive was a Parisian clan; their leader, a woman named Madame Pepper, had a shock of white hair and a pet alligator on a leash. Nick had seen her in a scrapbook that Theo had of a trip to Paris when he was younger.
"Do you want to tell me what she is going to do with an alligator?" Nick whispered to Isabella from their vantage point sitting on the grand staircase. They were peering through the banisters like two children on Christmas Eve trying to peek at their presents.
"All I know is it better not try to eat me," she said with a shrug. The alligator looked at them and licked it lips. Sascha instinctively moved closer to Isabella and nudged her.
The Greek magicians arrived with their own band playing folk music and dancing. Apparently, the Greek Magickeepers liked to break plates—all of them—for fun, so Damian had switched the Winter Palace plates with more casual plates in the dining room.
The Australians had kangaroos. The British contingency was very loud and dressed as a soccer team on holiday for a disguise. They even kicked a soccer ball around—albeit a magical soccer ball that floated up forty feet to the ceiling in the lobby before bouncing back down again and ricocheting across every wall.
"I want to play with them ," Nick said, laughing.
Commotion and noise filled the air, but even though people spoke their native tongues, Damian's spell allowed them all to communicate.
As the Magickeepers continued to arrive, filling the lobby with bands, animals, people, and large and odd-shaped boxes and suitcases, Nick scanned the crowds for anyone suspicious—anyone who looked like Maria, or like Rasputin.
"Isabella…" He grabbed his cousin's hand. "There!"
A woman stood at the back of a line waiting to check in. Tall and thin, her face was turned the other way. She was dressed in a long black dress that swept the floor—but her immense headdress was what caught Nick's eye. Her
"I'll be fine."
"Look, son, I know you want to prove yourself as a Magickeeper. I know you want to show the family that you belong here, that you will be as great someday as your cousins. But you are still learning—still training. Damian and Theo have been working at their skills their entire lives. You can't do what they do yet."
"I promise I'll be fine. It's you I worry about." Nick didn't want to point out the obvious. He had magic—even if he was learning, he had it deep down inside. His father did not— unless Nick wanted to count his dad pulling a rabbit out of a hat or the old pull-a-quarter-from-behind-the-ear trick. And his dad wasn't even very good at those.
"Your grandfather and I will be very busy this week. We will be taking some of the convention-goers on a trip to the Hoover Dam. You should come. You…"
His father didn't have to complete the thought. Nick knew what he had been about to say: You might be safer ther e than here.
"Nah." Nick had never been to the Hoover Dam anyway. He wasn't sure what Damian would think of the trip. Damian did not allow Nick or Isabella to leave the hotel grounds. Then again, sometimes what Damian didn't know wouldn't hurt him…
Sometimes, but probably not this time.
***
Nick and Isabella watched the Magickeepers checking into the hotel. Every few minutes, it seemed, cars arrived, and out poured people from all over the world. Or they simply materialized from nowhere.
The clan from Nigeria was very tall, with high cheekbones and almond-shaped, dark eyes. They wore brightly colored scarves wrapped intricately around their heads. The men carried long, carved staffs. Nick looked closely and realized that the carvings were of animals—and that the animals blinked and moved. One snake slithered up and down, up and down, coiling itself around the cane. The clan's rattan suitcases bulged with mysteries Nick was excited to learn about.
Next to arrive was a Parisian clan; their leader, a woman named Madame Pepper, had a shock of white hair and a pet alligator on a leash. Nick had seen her in a scrapbook that Theo had of a trip to Paris when he was younger.
"Do you want to tell me what she is going to do with an alligator?" Nick whispered to Isabella from their vantage point sitting on the grand staircase. They were peering through the banisters like two children on Christmas Eve trying to peek at their presents.
"All I know is it better not try to eat me," she said with a shrug. The alligator looked at them and licked it lips. Sascha instinctively moved closer to Isabella and nudged her.
The Greek magicians arrived with their own band playing folk music and dancing. Apparently, the Greek Magickeepers liked to break plates—all of them—for fun, so Damian had switched the Winter Palace plates with more casual plates in the dining room.
The Australians had kangaroos. The British contingency was very loud and dressed as a soccer team on holiday for a disguise. They even kicked a soccer ball around—albeit a magical soccer ball that floated up forty feet to the ceiling in the lobby before bouncing back down again and ricocheting across every wall.
"I want to play with them ," Nick said, laughing.
Commotion and noise filled the air, but even though people spoke their native tongues, Damian's spell allowed them all to communicate.
As the Magickeepers continued to arrive, filling the lobby with bands, animals, people, and large and odd-shaped boxes and suitcases, Nick scanned the crowds for anyone suspicious—anyone who looked like Maria, or like Rasputin.
"Isabella…" He grabbed his cousin's hand. "There!"
A woman stood at the back of a line waiting to check in. Tall and thin, her face was turned the other way. She was dressed in a long black dress that swept the floor—but her immense headdress was what caught Nick's eye. Her
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