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

at him.
    “As you can imagine, anything with that much power starts fights,” Benedict said. “People were killing for it, people were dying for it. The Eye was stolen, then recovered, and eventually went into hiding. It fell into the hands of Pope Pius VI, who tried to destroy it but was unable. It has been locked in the papal vault ever since.”
    It seemed to Houdini like a sledgehammer would do the trick, but he assumed they had tried that.
    “The Eye comes with three instructions,” Benedict said. “The first: Never show it to anyone.”
    “You’ve already broken that rule,” Houdini said.
    “One thing you’ll like about me,” Benedict said, “Is that I don’t feel obligated to adhere to the letter of the law either.”
    Benedict finished his cognac is one big gulp.
    “The second rule: Never attempt to use it.”
    “And the third?”
    Benedict stared at the Eye intensely.
    “Protect it at all costs.”
    Houdini picked up the Eye and held it out for Benedict to take, but the man shied away, as if it were cursed.
    “This is the only way to protect it now. There’s a creature of evil after me, Houdini. A dark beast I feel watching me around every corner. I’ve been running for weeks. I don’t think I’ll escape.”
    Houdini again held the Eye out, but the Pope wouldn’t take it.
    “I don’t believe in ghosts and ghouls,” Houdini said. “And certainly not dark beasts.”
    “You don’t need to believe in them,” Benedict said. “You only need to believe that I do.”
    He leaned over and closed the magician’s hand around the Eye.
    “Keep this for me. Please. It should stay in the hands of another great talent. Guard it until I come back. And if I don’t, find somewhere safe to store it.”
    The man seemed genuinely afraid, and there was a gentleness to him that seemed sincere. Houdini could easily do this favor. He had a hundred secret hiding places in his brownstone.
    “Why me?” Houdini asked.
    “Frankly,” the Pope said, “You’re one of only two still alive.”
    Benedict removed a scrap of deerskin and gave it to Houdini, who unfolded it. There were six names scribbled on the skin, by a hand that couldn’t be the Pope’s. Whoever wrote that chicken scratch had barely learned to read and write. Three of the names were crossed out, presumably dead. Of the other names, one was the Pope’s, and one the magician’s.
    “Where is this from?”
    Benedict shrugged on his coat and shook Houdini’s hand.
    “I need to get back to the Vatican. The rumor is I have pneumonia, but people are bound to start asking questions soon.”
    “Are you safe?” Houdini asked. “Traveling alone?”
    Benedict smiled and removed a ring from his pocket. It looked like an exact duplicate of the Ring of the Fisherman he was already wearing.
    “You are not the only man with illusions.”
    He slipped on the ring and instantly Houdini seemed not to see him. It wasn’t that he vanished so much as stepped out of view. Houdini had the sense he was still there, and yet couldn’t quite pin his vision on him.
    “Goodbye, magician, and thank you. Remember the three rules.”
    The door opened and shut. Benedict was gone.
    Houdini weighed the Eye in his hand; it was as heavy as the feeling in the pit of his stomach.
    Never show it to anyone. Never use it. Protect it at all costs.

 
     
     
     
    C HAPTER F OUR
     
    H OUDINI WAS INTO his third minute of holding his breath underwater when he saw a blurry figure approach the glass water tank from the main aisle of the empty Hippodrome Theatre. It was a boy, or maybe a girl, dressed in ragged dark trousers, a dirty collared shirt and a flat cap.
    The child walked right up on stage, the brazen thing, and knocked hard on the glass. Houdini felt his heartbeat speed up in annoyance; that would only use up his oxygen faster. There was no point in trying to beat his record now. He huffed out his breath and came to the surface of the tank. He gave the child his best look