The Chalice of Immortality (11 page)

His father laughed. “Ol' Gustav is a piece of work, but he loves you, and I know he would stay here with you, at least until you're over these nightmares.” His father mussed his hair affectionately. “We both love you, you know.”

***

“Grandpa…if I eat another bite, I just might fall over.”

“Ahh! Carrying on the family tradition of the all-you-can-eat buffet. I love you, kid.”

“I love you, too.”

“Now listen to me…for your thirteenth birthday, we're going to have quite an adventure.”

“Really? Did you get tickets to the magic show at the Winter Palace Hotel and Casino?”

“Now that would be something, considering they're sold out years in advance. No…not that. But something very, very fun!”

***

“I must be dreaming,” Nick whispered, his heart pounding so hard, he wondered if that had been the thumping sound he heard.

“'Fraid not, Nicholai. Time to fly,” Damian said, waving his hand. When Nick woke up, he was in Damian's library. Clouds floated overhead.

***

“It's a spark. Irina told me that when a Magickeeper is born, a shining star glows deep down inside the child. Part of its flicker is the gift the child inherits, and part is a Magickeeper birthright. Have you not noticed that Magickeepers seem to age differently than humans?”

Nick nodded. “Yeah. Damian and Theo, they look much younger than they are. And the Grand Duchess—she's really old, but she's still alive.”

“It's the magic part of us. I have it. You have it. But child essence is very powerful, Nick. It's innocent. It's the closest people are in their lifetime to the purity of who they are supposed to be.”

***

Ochi chornyye, ochi strastnyye,

Ochi zhguchiye i prekrasnyye.

Kak lyublyu ya vas, kak boyus' ya vas,

Znat' uvidel vas ya v nedobryi chas.

***

Rasputin sneered again. “Love! It's a completely impractical emotion. It will be your downfall, Kolya—because you will either join me or die tonight! I have seen inside your heart. I know how to destroy you!”

Nick stared up at the madman, but he knew he would never betray his family.

“Do you want to know how Tatyana died?” Rasputin asked.

Nick shook his head. Did it matter?

“She suffered.”

“I hate you!” Nick spat. As soon as he said that, the Shadowkeepers hissed and came closer.

“They thrive on hatred. Good,” Rasputin soothed. “Good.
Feed
their souls.”

“They have no souls,” Nick said. His head ached. He felt like even his
eyelashes
hurt.

“Let me give you just a taste of her suffering.”

The monk laid his hands on Nick's chest. Nick felt a stabbing pain like lightning flash in his chest then fan out to his extremities. He hurt. He hurt like he had never hurt in his life—not even the time he had gotten the flu, and it had turned into pneumonia and he had ended up in the hospital.

“I will offer you, one last time, the opportunity to rule beside me. Imagine vast riches. Power. Control. Imagine kings bowing before you. Imagine moving through time and space, unfettered by the rules of ordinary mortals.”

“No…thank…you…” Nick hissed through his teeth.

“I can't let you fulfill the prophecy.”

With the rock digging into his spine and sending chills up into his skull, Nick asked, “What prophecy? Maybe I am not even part of the prophecy!”

“Fool.”

Rasputin tilted his head back, and his next words he uttered were so hate-filled, Nick saw his body shudder with each syllable.

A child of lineage and love

Shall forever doom the monk of hate.

A mother's sacrifice and love

Shall forever destroy the legacy of hate.

And fires of magic and love

Shall consume shadows for eternity

And lead in light forever.

“And you think I am the ‘child of love'? That's a stretch.”

“Don't try to deflect what I know to be true. I should have killed you in your crib, you vile brat.”

“Theo and Damian will find me. You won't get away with this.”

“Do you think they survived that fight? Just the two of them against so many of my minions? And they will come just like when they rescued your mother? Instead, they led me to her—just as you have brought me the chalice so that I may live forever.”

“The chalice is dangerous. Don't you know what it did to Howard Hughes? How it tried to control Sir Arthur Conan Doyle? How it made William Shakespeare doubt his own gift with words? It will…” Nick fumbled for words. It would what? Make him crazy? He was already insane.

“Yes or no, Nicholai Rostov? Join me or die!”

“Never!” Nick spat the word.

At that, Rasputin touched him, and a black oil began coating his feet. Nick kicked his legs, but as the oil traveled up his body, he found it was paralyzing him.

“Imagine her terror! You can imagine it, can't you? Her dying thoughts were of you. I saw into her mind! Just as your dying thoughts will be of that family you love so much.
Feel
it consuming you. Suffer.”

As the oil coated him, Nick's muscles tensed and then felt like they were on fire. Finally, he could bear it no longer, and he let out a scream, which in turn made the Shadowkeepers howl. Their sounds echoed off the cavern walls.

Rasputin neared and stood over him. “Hurts, doesn't it?”

The oil now covered Nick's stomach. The Shadowkeepers neared, their teeth gleaming in the torchlight.

The oil now spread over Nick's chest, and he couldn't breathe. He wanted to breathe, but his ribs were paralyzed.

Finally, the oil coated his neck, as if a boa constrictor had wrapped itself around his throat.

Only Nick's head remained, and he knew the oil would soon slide into his mouth. The oil crept up his chin.

And then it stopped.

Rasputin held up the chalice.

“One sip and you will be restored. Are you prepared to join me, Nick?”

Nick thought of the chalice's hold on people. He thought of what he had seen at Shakespeare's grave. And he thought of the promise he had made to Millie.

“No. I will not.”

“You are prepared to die rather than join me?”

“I am.”

The monk brought the chalice to Nick's lips. But the young Magickeeper tightened his mouth and refused to drink.

“Suit yourself. You leave me no choice. Any last words, you foolish boy?”

And Nick remembered the words, the spell.

Ochi chornyye, ochi strastnyye,

Ochi zhguchiye i prekrasnyye.

Kak lyublyu ya vas, kak boyus' ya vas,

Znat' uvidel vas ya v nedobryi chas.

The circle of his family. His last words were about that.

Rasputin could not turn him.

Suddenly, the cave sparkled. The snowflakes growing on the wall twinkled.

Nick blinked as they flew from the walls, sparkling flakes blowing around the room. The cave was suddenly gleaming and bright, and the light formed a swirling funnel. Rasputin shielded his eyes. The Shadowkeepers squealed and shrunk back, some of them fleeing into other parts of the massive underground ice caves.

And in the middle of the light, Nick heard a voice. “You are the guardian, Nicholai. I knew you were the fulfiller of the prophecy, but I was frightened. I chose to hide you, but now I know you cannot hide such goodness.”

The voice was his mother's!

“Lies!” Rasputin spat. He touched Nick's face and tried to make the oily stuff slither into Nick's mouth, but it was now receding.

“This cannot be!” Rasputin howled.

“You cannot hide goodness, because it must shine a light in the darkness. I know that now, Kolya, my darling. And by choosing light and being willing to make the ultimate sacrifice, by invoking the spell of the family's protection, you have called all the light to you. All the good of the Magickeepers throughout history now resides in you. Guard it well, my love. Know that I am always with you.”

Then the light filled the cave so brightly that Nick could not even see—but he could
feel
. He was no longer paralyzed, and he felt a strange flash—as if from his most intense Gaze ever—as the voice in the light poured into his chest.

Suddenly, Nick felt more powerful than he ever had in his entire life. The light faded from the room, and Nick saw that he was oil-free and shining himself.

He leaped from what, moments before, had been the stone bed where he was to die, and he took the monk by surprise. He called up fire and light into his hands, and hurled a flame—the largest he ever had seen—at Rasputin, who seemed weakened now that Tatyana had been there.

The monk screamed as his clothes caught on fire, and then he burst into flames.

Even in the fire, Nick heard him casting spells, trying to overcome what was happening.

The snowflakes still sparkled.

Nick stared at the flames as they shrank further and further until all that was left was a pile of ashes.

How true, Nick mused, that even those we think are the most powerful can be reduced to dust.

He exhaled. What had happened? What had really happened?

He stared down at the chalice. It was too powerful. He didn't even think it belonged in the vault.

First, he would save his father. Then he would destroy it.

Nick emerged inside his room and nearly cried with relief. Damian and Theo were there, along with Millie, her hand bandaged. Both his cousins had cuts and bruises, and their clothes were in shreds. When Nick opened the closet door, the two of them practically tackled him. “He isn't lost to us! Rejoice!” Theo cried out. “But how?” He looked down at the chalice in Nick's hand.

“I'll tell you later,” Nick said, and ran to his father's bedside. His father's skin had turned a gray color, as if volcanic ash had settled there. Nick pressed his fingers to his father's icy cold neck. He felt a weak heartbeat.

They filled the chalice with water, which bubbled when it came in contact with the magical gold. Damian and Millie watched as Theo held up Nick's father's head. Nick held the chalice to his dad's mouth and poured the clear liquid between his frozen lips. Dribbles of water trickled down the corners of his mouth.

Nothing happened.

“Please, we've traveled so far and been through so much. This has to work.”

But still his father was as ashen as a ghost.

Nick felt like a rock had settled in his throat. He tried to swallow, but it was as if his neck had twisted.

“Do it again,” Damian commanded. “The magic will not fail us.”

Nick held the chalice of water to his father's mouth. He poured a splash in, and again, much of it dribbled down his face.

“Look, Theo!”

Where the water trickled, the skin turned from gray to a fleshy pink.

“More!” Theo urged.

Nick pressed the chalice to his father's lips again and poured.

Slowly, as they watched, small signs of life returned. First, the very tips of his fingers turned back to a normal color, then his arms. His breathing, which had been so slow and shallow, grew more regular.

Nick poured more water into his father's mouth, and this time, his father appeared to swallow on his own.

Finally, his father's lips turned pinkish. He exhaled. Loudly.

They waited in silence, just listening for the sounds of his breathing.

Please,
Nick urged in his mind.
Please, please, please, please wake up.

And then his father's eyes fluttered open.

Nick had never seen such an awesome sight in his entire life.

“Kolya?” His father's voice was almost unrecognizable, more a rasp than anything else.

“It's me.”

His dad smiled wanly. “Thank you.”

Theo lowered his dad's head to the pillow. “You're going to need to rest for some time yet. Don't try to speak. Just rest. Rest. We'll leave you two alone…to catch up. Your son has had many an adventure in the search for this chalice that saved you.”

Theo, Damian, and Millie left the room and shut the door. Nick sat on the edge of the bed. “I thought you were going to die,” he said softly. At the words, his shoulders shuddered slightly. Then, in a tumble, Nick started to explain everything that had happened, from the trip to England, to Howard Hughes, to Shakespeare, to clouds, to Amelia Earhart.

“You saved me,” his father whispered.

“I had to. You never asked to be part of this world.”

“But for you, I will be. For her, I would be. I heard music,” his father said. “It was the song she always sang to you. I heard the notes. And I heard your mother's voice.”

“I played the music box for you.” Nick pointed to the bedside table. “I wanted you to feel like I was here. Like
she
was here. It's her music box. Everything in my room belonged to her when she was a girl.” He glanced at his Tony Hawk poster and grinned. “Well,
almost
everything.”

His father sat up, gasping, “No…no, you don't understand, Kolya. She
was
here.”

Nick patted him on his chest and said, “Dad…rest.” He couldn't even imagine what his father had been through.

His father leaned his head back on the pillow. Strands of his hair were still falling out. Nick knew it would be a long time until his dad was totally well.

“I know she was here, Nick. The whole time. I heard you. When you came into this room, I heard you. And I was aware I was someplace very dark. And very, very cold. But—I wasn't in pain. Not sharp pain. It was more that I wanted to be free of that place. I wanted my struggle to be over. I was neither dead nor alive. So I was frightened. But the whole time I was in that place, she talked to me. She told me not to lose hope, not to fall into the darkness. She whispered to me—this voice. Her voice. It was so
good
to hear her voice, Kolya. It was just as I remembered it.”

“I don't believe in ghosts, Dad.”

“But you do believe in magic.”

Nick whispered solemnly, “More than ever. I know she was here. Because where I was…I saw her and heard her too.”

Nick stared at the chalice on the nightstand. Its magic had saved his dad's life. Now it was time to ensure that no one else ever came into possession of the chalice.

“I need to take care of something, Dad. Tonight. But I promise I'll be back to tell you what happened.” He turned to leave, then faced his dad again. “I love you.”