The Fire Chronicle by John Stephens Read Free Book Online Page B

it.” The old man turned back to Hugo Algernon. “So when you read this letter and realized what it meant, why did you contact Richard and not me?”
    “Because, you great ninny, you’re impossible to get ahold of! I thought Richard could find you! And”—he glanced at Michael and Emma and some of the energy and fury seemed to go out of him—“I knew about the children. Richard had told me who they were. That they were the children of the prophecy, the three who would finally bring the Books together and fulfill their destiny.”
    Michael felt his spine tighten. In Cambridge Falls, the Countess had mentioned the prophecy to Kate. Only the witch hadn’t said what the Books’ destiny actually was, or what it meant for the three of them.
    Hugo Algernon went on. “When I got back to the States, I called him. A week or so later, Richard showed up at my house in New Haven. Clare was with him. Must’ve been close to midnight. I knew something was wrong. But he insisted I tell him what I’d discovered. And I did.”
    “When was this?”
    “Christmas. Ten years ago. A day after his family had supposedly disappeared.” Hugo Algernon looked at Michael and Emma. “I imagine I was the last person to see your parents.”
    The door behind the children had blown open, but no one moved to close it. Michael felt a cool wind against his neck. Emma was clenching his hand.
    Michael reflected that he and Emma knew more about their parents’ fate than ever before. But there were still so many questions. Had their parents reached this city, Malpesa? Had they found the map? Who had this sick man and his comrades been? And then there was the mystery of the book itself. Dr. Pym had taken the
Atlas
out of Egypt—Michael remembered his story of keeping it safe for a thousand years before entrusting it to the dwarves—so of the two remaining books, which one was this? What were its powers? For the thousandth time, Michael wished that Kate were with them.
    The wizard rose and shut the door, then returned to the table. He said, “There’s more, isn’t there?”
    Hugo Algernon rubbed his dirty fingers through his beard and nodded.
    “I didn’t find out that Richard and Clare’s family had gone missing till a few days later. I tried to get in touch with you. Obviously, that was pointless.”
    “Tell us about it,” Emma muttered.
    “I talked to some of the others. Jean-Paul, for one. I didn’t tell them anything. Just that I needed to talk to you about Richard and Clare. Maybe someone was listening. Maybe there was a traitor. I don’t know.” As the man spoke, he dug his fingernails into the wood of the table. “Must’ve been a week later. I get a knock at the door. I open it, not thinking anything; and there he is. Smiling.” Hugo Algernon raised his head and looked at the children. “You two ever see a man coming—huge, bald, not a hair on him—run. Run, and don’t ever stop running.”
    “It was Rourke,” the wizard said.
    “Yeah. It was Rourke.” The man went back to digging his nails into the table.
    “What happened then?”
    “What happened then? You want to know how much I fought before I betrayed my friends? Oh, I fought all right. But he was too strong. And I could feel him in my head. He was laughing the whole time. I heard myself telling him that Richard and Clare had gone to Malpesa. I woke up the next morning and realized that not only had I betrayed my friends, but Rourke had brokensomething in me. I’d never been a great magician, we both know that, but whatever I’d had was gone. I walked out of my house. Never called anyone. Just … disappeared.”
    And Michael suddenly understood why this man had spent ten years in a lonely cottage on a mountain in Italy. He wasn’t hiding from the Dire Magnus. He was hiding from what he’d done, from himself. Michael felt a strange, powerful sympathy for him.
    “Then why hasn’t Rourke found the book?” Dr. Pym asked. “He must have the information you