Free The Pyramid of Souls by Erica Kirov Page A

himself say. "There is no escaping my destiny."
       Isabella scowled at him, but Nick grinned at her. "It's okay, Isabella. I'm used to it by now."
       As the evening wore on, other clans brought out their folk instruments. The Tibetans performed nang ma with a dramnyen , which looked like a lute; a pe wang, which was very much like a fiddle; and gling, which were bells that sounded light and happy. Nick could almost imagine them being played high in the Himalayas.
       The Greek clan performed next. (They'd only stopped for Damian's toast.) Nick noticed how the Caledonian costumes— white blouses underneath black vests, with red embroidered skirts on the women and black pants on the men—were a lot like the Russian folk costumes. Maybe Damian was right . Maybe all the world was actually more alike than different. The Greeks played tabachaniotika songs on their bouzoukis . Soon, everyone was dancing. Some Magickeepers climbed on tables; some danced on the parquet floor with its intricate diamond pattern; some simply flew up from their chairs, levitating and twirling in the air.
       " Hopa! " someone shouted.
       A plate was dropped from one of the Greeks dancing near
    the ceiling. It smashed on the dance floor.
    " Hopa! " others called out.
       Plates smashed. Then one of the Greeks cast a reversal spell—the plates pieced themselves together again and flew back up, only to be smashed once more.
       Nick grinned at Siti and Atsu. "Come on!" They grabbed their plates, climbed on top of the table, and smashed the plates to the floor in the style of Greek celebration.
       Nick surveyed the room. Everyone was smiling or singing or dancing—or flying. He couldn't remember ever having so much fun or feeling so happy in his entire life. For the first time since he knew Shadowkeepers existed and wanted to harm him, he was free among Magickeepers. He felt safe and warm and filled with something he had never quite felt before. He belonged.
       Then suddenly there was a shout from the far corner of the room.
       " Stop! Stop! Please! Help!"
       "It is my father!" Siti exclaimed, grabbing Nick's arm, her black eyes widening in alarm.
       The Greek band stopped playing mid-note. Magickeepers descended from the ceiling like deflating balloons. Others climbed down from tables and returned to their seats. A frightened hush fell over the ballroom.
       "What is it, Jahi?" Damian asked.
    "A most terrible thing has happened!"
"Tell us," Theo said.
"The Pyramid of Souls has been stolen."

    CHAPTER
9

    THE GREAT PYRAMID

    What is the Pyramid of Souls?" Nick asked Atsu.
       The entire room was now whispering; the sound was like buzzing bees in the cavernous ballroom. The adults huddled in corners, their voices echoing and ricocheting off the walls. Nick saw Theo and Damian fly—literally—from the ballroom.
       "The Pyramid of Souls is a soul house," said his new friend.
       "What's that?"
       "They are from way back in history—centuries and centuries ago. The great pharaohs' tombs were marked with clay soul houses. People believed souls could be collected in them. It was a bit of superstition. They were just clay. But some of the Egyptian Magickeepers had a real soul house."
       "What do you mean… real?"
       "It could collect souls—essences—and store them for safekeeping. The soul house was forged of gold and encrusted with jewels, and then a spell was cast over it by one of the first Magickeepers of Egypt. The intention, of course, was to fight Shadowkeepers. To collect evil souls and lock them away where they could do no harm. But in the wrong hands? It is too powerful a relic. Somehow, though, it was stolen by grave robbers centuries ago. Our family spent those centuries trying to reclaim the Pyramid of Souls. It changed hands many times—a very complicated history. But finally, we regained it. We have been the guardians of the Pyramid of Souls for three generations