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.”
“Dad, it's all real. I wouldn’t have believed it but…”
“Now I know why none of my tricks have worked since she died.”
Nick struggled to think of something to say, something to make his dad less sad. “I promise to learn everything I can, Dad. Then…then I’ll have a magic act. We can work together.”
His father smiled slightly and put a hand on each of Nick's shoulders. “All right, then. One day, we’ll work together. Now, look in the shopping bag. We never got to pick out your birthday present.”
Nick grinned, hoping it was what he thought it was.
He ripped aside tissue paper, and sure enough, it was his dream skateboard, with a wider seven-ply deck and a skull and crossbones on it. “Thanks!” Nick said. He already imagined riding on it in the basement of the hotel.
“It's the one you wanted, right?”
“The exact one.”
“Enjoy it, then. In the meantime, your mother used to have this Russian saying, ‘Eat what is cooked; listen to what is said.’”
“What? So that's how she got through eating Russian food?”
His dad laughed. “I think so. But remember to listen. And stay safe. I’ll come see you on opening night.”
“How did you know?”
And then Nick saw it. Rising two stories high at the other end of the lobby was the
“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.”
“Dad, it's all real. I wouldn’t have believed it but…”
“Now I know why none of my tricks have worked since she died.”
Nick struggled to think of something to say, something to make his dad less sad. “I promise to learn everything I can, Dad. Then…then I’ll have a magic act. We can work together.”
His father smiled slightly and put a hand on each of Nick's shoulders. “All right, then. One day, we’ll work together. Now, look in the shopping bag. We never got to pick out your birthday present.”
Nick grinned, hoping it was what he thought it was.
He ripped aside tissue paper, and sure enough, it was his dream skateboard, with a wider seven-ply deck and a skull and crossbones on it. “Thanks!” Nick said. He already imagined riding on it in the basement of the hotel.
“It's the one you wanted, right?”
“The exact one.”
“Enjoy it, then. In the meantime, your mother used to have this Russian saying, ‘Eat what is cooked; listen to what is said.’”
“What? So that's how she got through eating Russian food?”
His dad laughed. “I think so. But remember to listen. And stay safe. I’ll come see you on opening night.”
“How did you know?”
And then Nick saw it. Rising two stories high at the other end of the lobby was the
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