Alex Van Helsing The Triumph of Death - By Jason Henderson Page 0,27
Sangster, who, seriously, is not the most responsible guardian. The night is young. Go talk to the girl.”
“What are you telling him?” asked Sangster, who turned up beside Alex next to the cockpit door. Alex looked back to see Astrid, who was seated alone, poring over an art book. Sangster was wearing his usual outfit for when he wasn’t actually rappelling off anything: chinos and a sport coat, so that he always seemed to look like some cross between a spy and a record producer. He ran his hand along the doorframe. “Regs say we should shut this door.”
“I think Alex is worried that one of us is a secret vampire,” Armstrong said.
“You could be a banana leaf woman,” Alex joked.
“Come on.” Sangster turned to his protégé, put his hand on his shoulder, and led Alex firmly back toward the seats. “You need to get some rest. It’s a big day at the Prado, and you can’t waste the time available for sleep.”
“I actually am totally fine with, like, no sleep.” Thanks to his dad, this was also true.
“Oh, I know.” Sangster nodded. “But you jumped out of a plane twenty-four hours ago, you can’t possibly have gotten much sleep last night, and we’re just getting started. You’ve earned your points; don’t be a hero about naptime.”
They stopped next to a tray of drinks and Alex got himself some water. “I was thinking I should send a text to, you know, Paul and Sid and Minhi.”
Sangster shook his head. “I don’t think that’ll work.”
“When we land, I mean.” But he already knew what Sangster was saying.
“Alex, you can’t let your friends in on everything we do.” The teacher shrugged. “It’s not safe, for them or for you. They already know way more than is safe. You know, I have friends and relatives I wish I could text every time I go somewhere interesting. But it’s just not how it works.”
Alex’s heart sank as he realized that indeed he had already cost his friends mightily—they had been threatened with death by fire, kidnapping, stabbing, and rending limb from limb by vampires. Still…
“The thing is that they don’t…” Alex tried to find the right words. “They’re gonna wake up, and I’m not gonna be there. And, you know, Astrid’s not gonna be there.”
“Yeah.” Sangster breathed a heavy sigh and clicked his tongue lightly. “Look, when you get the time, you can figure it out with them. But now is not the time.”
“Yeah, okay.” Alex nodded reluctantly.
He went back to his seat in front of Astrid, slumping. He heard her flipping pages as he fished out his phone and stared at it in frustration. Astrid tapped him on the shoulder.
Alex didn’t respond. He was thinking about Minhi and Paul and Sid, and the last thing he wanted to deal with was Astrid, who had really come out of nowhere and within a day thrown his life upside down.
She tapped his shoulder again and cleared her throat.
“Yeah,” he mumbled.
“You want to come sit with me?”
Why? He was whining inside his head. Alex looked back at her. “What’s up?”
“I want to show you this.”
Alex reluctantly got up and settled into the seat next to Astrid. “What do you got?”
“There are so many layers to this painting.” Astrid sounded excited. “I can’t believe I wasn’t familiar with it. Minhi has a mind like a trap.”
“I’ll say.” Alex changed the subject. “So, what is it we hope to accomplish by looking at the actual painting that we can’t tell from an art book?”
“Well, for one thing, we can get a look at the physical paint and see if Bruegel left anything in it that they didn’t pick up. That’s more of a Polidorium activity. But for another—Alex, Bruegel actually touched this painting. There might be a spiritual spell I can do to learn about what he was thinking when he made it.”
“More of your magic beans?” It didn’t sound all that special to call yourself a witch if your power basically amounted to using premade tools.
She studied his face. “You don’t think much of Prepared Spells, do you?”
“I don’t know what to think.” Alex shook his head. “It’s really not my…I’d say concern, but that sounds so formal.”
“You think it’s…a cheat? I’m using someone else’s work?”
He was actually thinking, I just found out my mother is a witch, and she was able to shut a window with a few words. She didn’t need to throw any prepared weapon at it.