فصل 03

Don’t Accept Rides from Strange Relatives

WELL, HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME!

Was it January 13? Honestly, I had no idea. Time flies when you’re sleeping under bridges and eating from Dumpsters.

So I was officially sixteen. For my present, I got cornered by Uncle Freaky, who announced that I was marked for assassination.

“Who—” I started to ask. “You know what? Never mind. Nice seeing you, Randolph. I’ll be going now.”

Randolph remained in the doorway, blocking my exit. He pointed the iron tip of his cane at me. I swear I could feel it pushing against my sternum from across the room.

“Magnus, we need to talk. I don’t want them to get to you. Not after what happened to your mother….”

A punch in the face would’ve been less painful.

Memories from that night spun through my head like a sickening kaleidoscope: our apartment building shuddering, a scream from the floor below, my mother—who’d been tense and paranoid all day—dragging me toward the fire escape, telling me to run. The door splintered and burst. From the hallway, two beasts emerged, their pelts the color of dirty snow, their eyes glowing blue. My fingers slipped off the fire escape railing and I fell, landing in a pile of garbage bags in the alley. Moments later, the windows of our apartment exploded, belching fire.

My mom had told me to run. I did. She’d promised to find me. She never did. Later, on the news, I heard that her body had been recovered from the fire. The police were searching for me. They had questions: signs of arson; my record of disciplinary problems at school; neighbors’ reports of shouting and a loud crash from our apartment just before the explosion; the fact that I’d run from the scene. None of the reports mentioned wolves with glowing eyes.

Ever since that night I’d been hiding, living under the radar, too busy surviving to grieve properly for my mom, wondering if I’d hallucinated those beasts…but I knew I hadn’t.

Now, after all this time, Uncle Randolph wanted to help me.

I gripped the little domino stone so tightly, it cut into my palm. “You don’t know what happened to my mom. You never cared about either of us.”

Randolph lowered his cane. He leaned on it heavily and stared at the carpet. I could almost believe I’d hurt his feelings.

“I pleaded with your mother,” he said. “I wanted her to bring you here—to live where I could protect you. She refused. After she died…” He shook his head. “Magnus, you have no idea how long I’ve looked for you, or how much danger you’re in.”

“I’m fine,” I snapped, though my heart was thumping against my ribs. “I’ve been taking care of myself pretty well.”

“Perhaps, but those days are over.” The certainty in Randolph’s voice gave me a chill. “You’re sixteen now, the age of manhood. You escaped them once, the night your mother died. They won’t let you escape again. This is our last chance. Let me help you, or you won’t live through the day.”

The low winter light shifted across the stained glass transom, washing Randolph’s face in changing colors, chameleon-style.

I shouldn’t have come here. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Over and over, my mom had given me one clear message: Don’t go to Randolph. Yet here I was.

The longer I listened to him, the more terrified I got, and the more desperately I wanted to hear what he had to say.

“I don’t need your help.” I set the strange little domino on the desk. “I don’t want—”

“I know about the wolves.”

That stopped me.

“I know what you saw,” he continued. “I know who sent the creatures. Regardless of what the police think, I know how your mother really died.”

“How—”

“Magnus, there’s so much I need to tell you about your parents, about your inheritance….About your father.”

An ice-cold wire threaded its way down my spine. “You knew my father?”

I didn’t want to give Randolph any leverage. Living on the street had taught me how dangerous leverage could be. But he had me hooked. I needed to hear this information. Judging from the appraising gleam in his eyes, he knew it.

“Yes, Magnus. Your father’s identity, your mother’s murder, the reason she refused my help…it’s all connected.” He gestured toward his display of Viking goodies. “My whole life, I’ve been working toward one goal. I’ve been trying to solve a historical mystery. Until recently, I didn’t see the whole picture. Now I do. It’s all been leading to this day, your sixteenth birthday.”

I backed up to the window, as far as I could get from Uncle Randolph. “Look, I don’t understand ninety percent of what you’re saying, but if you can tell me about my dad—”

The building rattled like a volley of cannons had gone off in the distance—a rumble so low I felt it in my teeth.

“They’ll be here soon,” Randolph warned. “We’re running out of time.”

“Who are they?”

Randolph limped forward, relying on his cane. His right knee didn’t seem to work. “I’m asking a lot, Magnus. You have no reason to trust me. But you need to come with me right now. I know where your birthright is.” He pointed to the old maps on the desk. “Together, we can retrieve what is yours. It’s the only thing that might protect you.”

I glanced over my shoulder, out the window. Down in the Commonwealth Mall, Hearth had disappeared. I should have done the same. Looking at Uncle Randolph, I tried to see any resemblance to my mother, anything that might inspire me to trust him. I found nothing. His imposing bulk, his intense dark eyes, his humorless face and stiff manner…he was the exact opposite of my mom.

“My car is out back,” he said.

“M-maybe we should wait for Annabeth and Uncle Frederick.”

Randolph grimaced. “They don’t believe me. They never believed me. Out of desperation, as a last resort, I brought them to Boston to help me look for you, but now that you’re here—”

The building shook again. This time the boom felt closer and stronger. I wanted to believe it was from construction nearby, or a military ceremony, or anything easily explainable. But my gut told me otherwise. The noise sounded like the fall of a gargantuan foot—like the noise that had shaken our apartment two years ago.

“Please, Magnus.” Randolph’s voice quavered. “I lost my own family to those monsters. I lost my wife, my daughters.”

“You—you had a family? My mom never said anything—”

“No, she wouldn’t have. But your mother…Natalie was my only sister. I loved her. I hated to lose her. I can’t lose you, too. Come with me. Your father left something for you to find—something that will change the worlds.”

Too many questions crowded my brain. I didn’t like the crazy light in Randolph’s eyes. I didn’t like the way he said worlds, plural. And I didn’t believe he’d been trying to find me since my mom died. I had my antenna up constantly. If Randolph had been asking about me by name, one of my street friends would’ve tipped me off, like Blitz had done this morning with Annabeth and Frederick.

Something had changed—something that made Randolph decide I was worth looking for.

“What if I just run?” I asked. “Will you try to stop me?”

“If you run, they’ll find you. They’ll kill you.”

My throat felt like it was full of cotton balls. I didn’t trust Randolph. Unfortunately, I believed he was in earnest about people trying to kill me. His voice had the ring of truth.

“Well, then,” I said, “let’s go for a ride.”