Houdini's Last Trick (The Burdens Trilogy) Read Free Page A

anything from outside the Vatican.”
    “Why is that?” Houdini asked.
    Benedict shrugged.
    “Someone is trying to kill me.”
    He stated it so matter-of-factly, Houdini nearly laughed.
    “Who would want to kill you?” Houdini asked. “You’re the man who weakened the blow of the Great War. You rallied for peace. Your humanitarian efforts saved the lives of thousands. Millions, maybe. You’re beloved. And you’re powerful.”
    “Two things others would have for themselves,” Benedict said. He stood and peeked out the windows, then pulled shut all of the curtains.
    “I know who you are,” Benedict said.
    “Half the world knows who I am.”
    “No, they do not,” he said. “I know that you may be a flamboyant performer on stage, but in reality you are a quiet man who can’t wait to get home to be alone with his wife. I know that you enjoy thinking and reflecting, so much so that hours go by unnoticed. I know you can see things about yourself that others cannot see about themselves. I know that magic is not your real talent.”
    It was the kind of vague talk that Houdini had witnessed time and again with spiritualists on the vaudeville circuit. They spoke just enough to grab your interest, but not so much as to trip themselves up.
    “Are you a fortune teller?” Houdini asked. “Because I have no patience for them.”
    These frauds always infuriated him.
    “Not in the slightest,” Benedict said. “Don’t be upset.”
    The Pope held out his hand toward Houdini in a calming manner, and in a puff all of the magician’s anger evaporated. He only had the memory of being angry.
    “You’re doing that, aren’t you?” Houdini said. “How?”
    “I have a talent,” Benedict said. “Like you. But not like you.”
    Benedict folded his hands in his lap like guns being holstered.
    “My talent is my empathy. My gift is to alleviate suffering. During the Great War, I could feel the pain of the world, the severe agony it was causing millions of people. The world’s anguish was so strong it nearly killed me. From that point on I’ve made it my mission to champion peace in the world to alleviate the suffering of man—it is the greatest work I can do for our Lord.”
    A smile danced across the man’s face.
    “But then I didn’t come to convert you.”
    Benedict sipped his cognac before setting down his glass.
    “You’re a magician with a great talent,” he said. “I’ve come to you for help because I need you to do what you’re best at…making things disappear.”
    Benedict pulled out a chain he had hidden under his frock. Attached to the chain hung a small conical object of polished wood, with circular glass insets on each end, like a handheld kaleidoscope or maybe a prism.
    “This has been stored in the pope’s private vault for nearly two hundred years. One month ago, someone tried to break into the vault. This is the only item inside. I sense guilt and distrust all around me. Someone has betrayed me. There is no one at the Vatican I trust.”
    Benedict took off the chain and handed the object to Houdini.
    “What is it?”
    “Some of my predecessors called it a tool. Others called it a weapon. It was made by someone like us. Someone of great talent.”
    The magician turned it over in his hand. It was much heavier than it looked, as if it held some secret inside.
    “What does it do?”
    “You’re familiar with the Age of Enlightenment?” Benedict asked. “This is what started it.”
    Houdini looked through the narrow end and saw only the parlor through the glass. It seemed so simple. So fragile.
    “It is called Newton’s Eye, and it was created by Sir Isaac as his legacy to the world. As the most creative mind of his day, Newton sought a way to share his talent with others, to create a society of great creators and thinkers. That’s what the Eye does: It allows those with a great talent to reproduce it in others.”
    Houdini set the object on the table between them. It seemed to be staring