Marzi took the book she had been reading and opened it. “I was stuck, too, so I got Clemmons Book of Logic and Deduction and looked through it.”
Fritz rubbed his neck. “I haven’t gotten to that one yet.”
“He said something in chapter three that stuck out to me.” She read the passage to him: “‘If you find that all possible options have been weighed and found wanting, it is then necessary to consider not the impossible, but the improbable. List them, no matter how bizarre they may seem. It is in this list that you will find the improbable morph into the probable or shed light on an avenue you hadn’t thought to explore.’”
She put the book down.
“We agree that the storage areas are the best explanation for how they got to us, right? We’ve also established that it’s impossible that an ape or a dragon could have traveled to our homes without us knowing, right?”
Fritz listened intently as he watched her pace.
“So, we have to find the improbable way they got to us.” As she spoke, her pace quickened and her eyes sparkled. “I came up with a dozen crazy ideas that didn’t make sense at all, but then I reread this and the word ‘morph’ popped out at me.”
She looked at Fritz, waiting for him to share her excitement.
Fritz realized she’d stopped talking. “I’m still lost.”
“Morph, Drosselmeyer. He said ‘morph.’” She shook her hands. “What if the ape and dragon came to us, but we didn’t recognize them because they didn’t look like an ape or a dragon? What if they morphed?!”
“There’s a spell for that?” Fritz asked.
“Spells can’t be time delayed,” Marzi explained. “You cast them, and they go into effect instantly. Well, I mean, you can time the speed of a transformation spell, but …”
“So how did it happen?” Fritz interrupted.
“You told me that when Boroda handed you your apprentice garb, there was a moth,” she said.
Fritz shrugged. “Sure. But we lived in the country. There were lots of moths and bugs. Especially at night when the house lights were on.”
“Where did the moth go?” Marzi asked.
Fritz shrugged. “I don’t know. But you aren’t seriously saying that a moth could turn into a two-story-sized ape, are you?”
“I’ve never heard of it being done,” Marzi admitted, “but that doesn’t mean it isn’t possible.”
“Boroda looked at the spells on the ape. He probably would have caught a morphing spell,” Fritz said.
The café owner set their plates down and left them to eat.
“Morphing isn’t always a spell,” Marzi explained. “It can also be an herbal reaction.”
“What does that mean? Herbal?” Fritz shook his head.
“Herbal shops are usually run by hedge witches. They grow and harvest plants and make potions with them. They’re more popular with lower-class wizards who don’t have access to wizard-grade metal to store magic.”
“Do you know a hedge witch we can ask?” Fritz asked.
“Hanja hates herbology. I think there’s one around here that she uses when she has to, but I’ve never been. She’s forbidden me from studying it.”
“Boroda mentioned it to me but didn’t give it much credence.”
Marzi closed her eyes. “The few times I’ve heard Hanja mention her, I remember thinking it was a funny name, but I’m drawing a blank now.”
Fritz brightened. “I bet Toby would know.”
“Toby?”
“He’s a local boy,” Fritz said. “He delivers coal, so he knows just about every business in Anadorn.”
Marzi grimaced. “It’s not ideal, but it’s something. Where’s Toby?”
“I’ll show you,”
Fritz paid for their meal, and they left the café.
Marzi took his arm and leaned on him, her teeth chattering. Fritz swallowed, trying not to trip. He forgot which direction the coal shop was at first then doubled back and led her there.
When Toby saw Fritz, his eyes lit up. He waved them over.
“Toby!” Fritz scolded. “Where is your coat? I thought you were going to buy one?”
“I did!” Toby said and coughed into his hand. “But Allison and her baby sister came down with the flu, and they only had a blanket, so I gave them my coat. I’m fine though.”
He coughed again.
“You had enough silver for several coats,” Fritz prodded. “What happened to that?”
Toby looked away. “Well, Mrs. Geddiston in number fourteen didn’t have any heat at all, and she has holes in her wall you can see through, so I got her some coal and a blanket. Then there was Bill who stays near Millner’s Alley, only he hadn’t eaten in almost a week, so I got him some food and some shoes.”
Marzi knelt down next to him. “When was the last time you ate?”
Toby looked at her suspiciously.
“This is Marzi,” Fritz said. “She’s my friend.”
“Yesterday,” Toby answered.
Marzi reached into her bag and pulled out a large sweet roll. “Here, have this.”
Toby eyed it. “I don’t want to take your food, ma’am.”
Marzi looked surprised. “Well, I was just going to throw it away. I still can if you don’t want it …”
Toby snatched the pastry from her hand and shoved the whole roll in his mouth.
“Toby, we need your help,” Fritz said.
Toby looked up and sucked the sugar from his soot-stained fingers.
“We’re looking for a shop that sells tea and plants and really odd things like roots,” Marzi said. “It would probably smell really bad and have a funny-looking owner.”
Toby thought for a moment. “Well, I don’t deliver coal there, but Minerva Mooncup’s is just across from Mrs. Bolling’s Hat Shop. It smells like a toilet sometimes, and Ms. Mooncup looks funny.”
Marzi gasped. “Mooncup! That’s it. Can you take us there?”
Toby glanced over at the coal shop. “I can’t stay. I have more deliveries. Can you find your way back?”
Fritz assured him they could, and they set off.
Toby wound through alleys and streets, some that were so close together they had to walk single file. After quite a bit of walking, he pointed up a cobblestone street. “Second to the last shop there. The one with the purple awning.”
Fritz gave him a couple silver coins. “Go buy a coat, Toby,” he said. “And don’t give it away.”
Toby smiled and assured them he would get one. He ran back down the alley toward the coal shop.
Marzi looked somber.
“What’s wrong?” Fritz asked.
She pointed in the direction Toby had disappeared. “That is. Why are we spending our time investigating who attacked one of our many houses when that boy is freezing because he gave his coat to someone who needed it more?”
Fritz didn’t answer.
“These are the people I want to help with my magic.” She dabbed at her eyes with her gloved hand. “I can wave my hand and make an entire banquet appear, but all I’m allowed to do is give him half a sticky bun.”
Fritz began to say something but Marzi waved him off. “Sorry. Never mind me. Let’s go see if Minerva is in.”
As they neared the herbal shop, the stench made them both recoil.
“Watcher, have mercy! What is that smell?” Fritz asked.
“I don’t know,” Marzi said in a nasal tone. “But I understand why Hanja hates this practice.”
They stepped into the shop. It was dimly lit and very damp. The smell of musty plants was thick enough to taste. Dried clumps of ferns hung from the ceiling and on the far wall. Several tables with boxes of glowing mushrooms cast an eerie glow on the rest of the room.
“May I help you?” an old, screechy voice asked.
Fritz and Marzi spun around.
Minerva Mooncup was about three-and-a-half feet tall, hunched over, and had a wild mop of matted hair sticking out from under a straw bonnet.
&nb
sp; Neither Fritz nor Marzi spoke for a moment.
“S’alright.” She waved. “I get this from all the first timers. Take your time. Gawk a little.”
“No!” Marzi said, shocked. “It’s not that. You just frightened us is all.”
“Mm hmm,” Minerva harrumphed. “I had to store my fang-toothed water snake somewhere while I cleaned his tank and forgot where I put him ‘til I sat down on the can. That’s frightening. Not this.”
“We have a question about herbology,” Fritz spluttered.
“And here I thought you was going to ask me about my cherry cobbler. Alright, what do you want to know?”
“We’re looking for a morphing potion,” Marzi said.
Minerva looked at them blankly then shook her head. “Do you want me to pick one for you?”
She flashed a coy smile at Fritz. “You’d make a handsome dog. That potion is on sale.”
Fritz laughed nervously. “We don’t know anything about them, so we’re hoping you could tell us how they work.”
Minerva wheezed loudly and moved her spindly arms in deliberate jabs. “Ah! Ok. Well, a morphing potion turns one thing into another for a certain amount of time.”
“Not permanently then?” Marzi asked excitedly.
“If they was permanent, I’d look like the goddess of beauty and open my own skivvies shop on the main square.”
“How long does a morph last?” Fritz asked.
“Depends on the strength of the blend. Nothing over a couple days, though.” She looked them both up and down. “What kind of morph are you wanting?”
“We don’t actually want one,” Fritz told her. “We just want to see if certain ones are possible.”
Minerva sighed. “In that case, I’ve got a snake to feed—and after what he saw the other day, I’ll be surprised if he ever eats again.”
“Please!” Marzi called out. “We’ll pay you for your information.”
A cloying smile spread over the hedge witch’s face, and she bowed obsequiously. “At your service, my dear.”
“Can someone turn an ape into a moth?” Fritz asked.
Minerva’s warted face went ashen white, then red with anger. “Who are you? Who sent you?”
“Is it possible?” Fritz asked more forcefully.
“Get out of my shop!” she screamed, and the mushrooms darkened and began to hiss streams of spores into the air.
Minerva waved her hands and screeched. “You tell whoever you work for that if anyone sets foot in my shop again, I will feed them to my gilly worms!”
Minerva backed them out under the awning, and a small crowd of workers poked their heads out of the millinery shop across the narrow street.
“Like I told the other one, ‘Madame Minerva Mooncup is discreet at all times and don’t need threats to keep her quiet.’ I’m not saying a word, an’ it ain’t because I’m scared!”
She slammed the door shut with a loud crack. A pot hanging from a wooden beam fell from its hook and shattered on the cobbles below.
Marzi tried to knock on the door, but Fritz pulled her away.
“Fritz, she might know who attacked us!” she protested.
“And I highly doubt she’s going to tell us,” Fritz said and hid his face from the group of workers. “It’s safe to say the ape was morphed, and if I had to guess, your dragon was probably morphed, too.”
Marzi quickened her pace. “I can’t believe this. Someone altered animals and then morphed them to travel into our homes.”
“Looks like it,” Fritz said. “At least we know how they did it. We only have to figure out who and hope they tell us why.”
They turned a corner and walked down a narrow passage.
Marzi looked around. “I’m going to go home. Let’s talk on Monday.”
“Ok, see you later,” Fritz said.
Marzi disappeared in a cloud of red vapor.
Fritz grinned openly and watched her cloud disappear, running his fingers through the dissipating mist. He double-checked to make sure no one was watching, then traveled to his own room.
He twirled once in happy reverie and was about to flop on his bed when Boroda called to him from the mirror. “Get ready, Fritz. It’s time to see the Czar.”
Chapter 10
Fritz stood in the spacious hall outside the Czar’s office, unable to shake a sense of foreboding. The palace appeared to have once been a warm, inviting place. Floor-to-ceiling windows ran the length of the hall. Colorful tapestries and paintings hung on the walls opposite the windows. Gauzy curtains, pulled back and tied with gold tassels, draped limply from ornate, brass rods. Even with the curtains completely shut, the hallway wasn’t too dark.
Now, Fritz noticed, the picture frames were lined with a layer of dust, and the windows were bolted shut. The plush furniture was shoved into a far corner and replacing it were bare, wooden benches that could better accommodate sword-wearing soldiers.
Boroda stood beside Fritz, his face cold and blank.
At length, two unseen sentries opened the door, and a deep, booming voice called out.
“Boroda.”
Boroda entered the room with Fritz close behind.
“Your Highness. My apprentice, Drosselmeyer.” He motioned with his hand, and Fritz stepped forward and bowed as Boroda had.
The Czar, a tall man with a barrel chest and thick black beard, was dressed in a rich red military costume, matching those of the guards who stood motionless on either side of his desk.
“Ah, yes. The boy who knocked my Nicholaus down.”
Fritz swallowed.
The Czar motioned for Fritz to approach him. “I am surprised by your physique,” he said, studying Fritz.
He walked in a circle, sizing up the teenager, then sat back down in his chair. “I was expecting someone bigger and more muscular.”
Fritz concentrated on taking even, regulated breaths.
The Czar leaned back and placed his hands behind his head. “My boy is arrogant, mean, and weak. He deserved every last bit of what you gave him. Frankly, you taught him a lesson I wasn’t able to. I feel as though I should thank you.”
Fritz stared at the Czar as he felt his pulse slow.
“However,” Czar Nicholaus continued, “you have also shamed my son and, by extension, me. This cannot go unpunished.”
He stood, squaring his shoulders to Fritz.
“It is possible that you will one day serve my son in the same role as Boroda serves me.”
Fritz tensed as the Czar walked behind him.
“The thought of serving someone so immature, selfish, and puerile as my son may seem unbearable. It would to me if I were in your position.”
The Czar continued to circle Fritz. “In fact, I might be tempted to undermine his authority. If I did, I’d probably ally myself with some other noble’s son. The Southern Kingdom, perhaps. I’m not accusing you of doing this; I’m only saying I’d be tempted to do that.”
He looked down at Fritz. “Are you going to undermine my son’s eventual authority, Drosselmeyer?”
Fritz shook his head slightly.
“I need an assurance from you, Drosselmeyer, that you will serve my son, or me—should, Watcher forbid, Boroda be killed …” He glanced at Boroda, who squinted in a soft grimace.
“I need to know,” the Czar reiterated, “that I can count on your faithful service, both here as well as at school.”
Fritz breathed harder but kept his face a chilly blank. He nodded at the Czar but kept his focus on a sizable cabinet against the far wall.
The Czar let out a low, booming laugh. “It has pride!” he called to Boroda and pointed at Fritz. “Good luck with this one.”
He turned back to Fritz. “Drosselmeyer, I want you to meet a friend of mine.” He nodded, and a soldier stationed behind Fritz opened a hallway door.
Slow, heavy footsteps accented by quick, light ones entered the room.
Czar Nicholaus dropped to his knees and held out his arms, and a warm smile crossed his
face. “Alexei, come, give me a hug.”
Fritz turned to greet the newcomer, and his breath caught. He started to move, but his body snapped rigid by an invisible force. Boroda caught his eye and shook his head almost imperceptibly.
Franz hopped up the stairs and hugged the Czar in a tight embrace. He was dressed in a colorful outfit similar to a Central Kingdom guard, with a wooden sword hanging at his waist.
Fritz felt tears burn the rims of his eyes.
“I got a new sword, Dyadya,” Franz said. His green eyes sparkled. “Papa is teaching me how to use it but says I can’t have a real one until I’m twelve.” Franz unsheathed the wooden toy and demonstrated a lunge.
“Your Papa is very wise. It would be a shame to see you get injured from such a dangerous weapon,” Czar Nicholaus said with grandfatherly warmth. He grabbed Franz around the waist and lifted him into a tight embrace.
He turned to Fritz. “Drosselmeyer, I would like to introduce you to my top official, General Pieter Andoyavich.”
The general bowed.
“And his son, Alexei,” the Czar continued with a slight edge. “Alexei, I would like to introduce you to Drosselmeyer.”
Franz squirmed out of the Czar’s arms and stepped halfway behind the noble’s leg.
“No, Alexei, you must shake his hand. If you are to be a soldier in the Central Guard, you must act like one.” The Czar pushed Franz forward.
Franz obeyed, and Fritz shook the small outstretched hand. Every fiber in Fritz’s body wanted to wrap Franz in his arms and escape.
“Now, Alexei, I want you to go practice your sword fighting. I will come fight with you later.” The Czar patted Franz’s head then nodded to the General.
The General bowed, first to the Czar then to Boroda. He grabbed Franz’s hand and walked him out of the room without speaking.
Czar Nicholaus returned to his desk. “Family is the most important thing we have, is it not?”
Tears ran down Fritz’s cheeks.
“I would do anything for my family,” the Czar continued. “I would risk my life for them.” He lowered his voice. “I wouldn’t hesitate to slay my closest friends and their families if it meant protecting my own.”
He crossed slowly toward Fritz until his mouth was inches from his ear. “Am I clear, Drosselmeyer?”
Drosselmeyer: Curse of the Rat King Page 11