Fritz bit his lip and nodded his head.
The Czar straightened and walked back to his desk. “Thank you, Boroda. That is all. I trust we will have no more issues at school—or elsewhere.”
Boroda bowed. “I can assure you of it.”
Czar Nicholaus didn’t respond.
Boroda gripped Fritz’s elbow and walked him quickly out of the room. No sooner had the door shut behind them than Boroda traveled them back to the foyer of his mansion.
“Get dressed and meet me in the training room,” Boroda said without looking back.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Fritz yelled at him.
“Meet me in the training room,” Boroda reiterated and disappeared.
Fritz didn’t bother changing. He traveled directly to the training room, where he ripped off his cape and threw it on the ground.
“That was my brother!” he shouted into the mirror on the wall.
There was no response.
“How could you tell the Czar about my brother?” Fritz slammed his fist. The mirror tilted from the blow.
The resulting silence enraged Fritz. They can do whatever they want to you because you belong to them.
“I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that you’d sacrifice my brother’s life for your own advancement,” Fritz spat. “From what I hear, that’s pretty common with wizards.”
Silence. Fritz bared his teeth. “Did you kill your last apprentice because the Czar commanded it or because you wanted to?”
Boroda exploded into the room in a fiery ball of magic. He hit Fritz with a powerful spell that knocked him off his feet.
Fritz caught himself against the wall and crouched.
Boroda ran at him, hands hurling a series of attacks.
Fritz traveled in a small statue from the garden and put it directly in front of Boroda’s foot.
Boroda tripped and rolled. It was a graceful tumble; he popped up and whipped out a bolt of electricity.
Fritz blocked the bolt and felt his energy drain. He conjured up the spell Marzi had used in the garden, and a brilliant flash of light blazed in front of Boroda.
Boroda stumbled sideways.
Fritz threw a large beam of energy at Boroda’s torso. The magic separated and flowed around him like a stream hitting a rock.
Boroda reached out and lashed Fritz’s arms, pinning him.
Fritz reversed the spell.
Boroda stepped in close, striking him with his fist.
Fritz gasped in pain but blocked the next strike.
Boroda punched again.
Fritz used the momentum of the punch and threw Boroda against the wall.
The Life Bond spell cushioned the blow.
Boroda shot another spell.
Fritz blocked it, and his energy drained further. He was breathing hard and sweat streamed down his face.
Spell after spell hit Fritz’s magical shield, and his blocking power faded.
Boroda wrapped Fritz’s arms in a binding spell that Fritz couldn’t unlock. He lifted Fritz in the air, the invisible coils constricting until Fritz’s face began to turn red.
Fritz glared at him in defiance. His vision was blurring, and he couldn’t breathe.
“If you ever speak of my apprentice again that way, I promise you will wish for death,” Boroda whispered with an acid tone. He was panting, and his eyes were dark with rage.
Fritz struggled against the invisible bonds. The room was blurry and then blinked black.
Boroda released the spell, and Fritz fell to the floor. “Get dressed for training,” he hissed.
Fritz clenched his fists.
The Czar had his brother.
Boroda had the Life Bond.
Fritz was Boroda’s property.
He had no choice but to comply.
Fritz walked, not traveled, back to the training room. He was under no obligation to take the fastest route, and at the moment, he was in no mood to be amiable.
Having only walked the route once before, it took him longer than he’d planned to navigate the many hallways and staircases in the large mansion.
He paused outside the door, calming his temper before facing Boroda. As he reached for the knob, he heard Boroda raise his voice at someone.
Fritz opened the door slightly and peered in through the crack.
“If you didn’t tell him, then who did?” Boroda said.
The mirror glowed and pulsed as the voice responded. “My wife doesn’t even know the whole story, Boroda. Again, I have no idea how he found out.”
“Drosselmeyer is furious with me.” Boroda rubbed his eyes and ran his hands through his hair.
“Can you tell him?” the disembodied voice asked.
“He’s not ready yet,” Boroda replied with a heavy sigh.
“How soon until he is?”
“Not too much longer,” Boroda answered. “He can memorize spells faster than anyone I’ve ever met. His instincts in a fight are spectacular.” Boroda shook his head. “If I could stop losing my temper …”
The mirror continued to pulse. “This is only a small setback. I will continue to protect Alexei—with my life if I have to.”
Fritz’s eyes widened.
The General.
“I know you will,” Boroda said. “Drosselmeyer will be here soon. I need to go. Find out who leaked the information about Alexei. If we have a mole, I want to know about it.”
The mirror blinked off, and Boroda stepped back and began stretching.
Fritz leaned against the wall outside the door and tried to stop his head from spinning.
If Boroda hadn’t revealed Franz’s identity, then who had? And why would they? Fritz thought. I’m hardly a threat to anyone.
“Fritz!” Boroda yelled.
Fritz leapt up from the floor, heart pounding.
“Get down here, immediately!” Boroda yelled into the mirror.
Fritz traveled twenty feet into the training room. “Sorry I’m late.”
Boroda softened and dropped his gaze. “Don’t worry about it. Pick up a sword, and let’s begin.”
Chapter 11
On Monday, when Fritz opened his locker, a large rat jumped out and bolted down the hall.
He yelped and leapt back.
Several girls screamed and jumped on tiptoes as the rodent ran past them.
Fritz saw Nicholaus at the end of the hall looking directly at him.
Nicholaus smiled and winked.
On Tuesday, when Fritz opened his bag to take out his textbook during first period, a rat scampered out and ran toward the doorway.
He yelled in surprise.
Ms. Wakimba spun deftly from the blackboard and demanded to know why. Her piercing stare and stony face tightened at his response.
“I’m sorry, I thought I saw … something,” Fritz said.
Nicholaus was staring at him, a grin plastered on his face.
“Maybe the Headmaster should check your eyes,” Ms. Wakimba threatened. She wrote him a warning and assigned extra work.
Nicholaus turned to him from the corner of the room and winked.
Fritz heard Vivienne giggle, so he turned to look at her. She and Gelé both waved at the young prince, and Gelé winked back at him.
On Wednesday, when Fritz sat down at the apprentice’s lunch table, Gelé and Vivienne weren’t there.
“What’s up with them?” Fritz motioned to their usual seats.
“I guess Nicholaus likes pale blondes now,” Faruk said with a shrug and motioned to Nicholaus’s table.
Nicholaus had his arm draped over Gelé’s shoulder while Vivienne chatted with Evgeny and Oleg.
Fritz opened his lunch pail; two small rats jumped out and scuttled toward Nicholaus’s table.
Two girls carrying trays to their own table screamed. The room fell silent, and everyone looked their way.
The lunch monitor began weaving her way toward them.
“Nick!” Gelé punched the prince’s arm playfully.
Vivi
enne picked up one of the rats and began petting it.
Nicholaus looked over at Fritz and winked again.
A vein in Fritz’s temple began to pulse.
“You gonna let him get away with it?” Faruk asked.
“Faruk!” Marzi warned. “Don’t encourage bad behavior.”
“I’m just wondering what Drossie is going to do. Nothing more.”
“I’m sure Drossie will keep a cool head,” Marzi countered and looked at Fritz.
“They’re just rats,” Fritz said dismissively.
Andor made a few signs and Marzi shook her head, refusing to interpret.
Andor insisted and Marzi reluctantly shared his message. “Andor says that if you need help breaking his arms, he will be glad to hold back his friends.”
Fritz signed, “Thank you.”
Andor pointed at Fritz’s apple.
“There are rat bites in it, Andor,” Fritz mouthed.
Andor shrugged and snatched the apple.
“Will you be in the library today?” Marzi asked. “You haven’t been coming this week.”
Fritz mumbled an excuse, finished eating, and left without any further conversation.
On Thursday, during math, Fritz found a rat in his desk. It was a fat, black rat that barely moved when he opened the lid.
Fritz saw it and started.
He could see Nicholaus in his periphery. The dark-haired boy was looking in his direction. Fritz ignored him but with a red face and clenched jaw.
During the last class period, after a grueling round of calisthenics, McGregor addressed his panting class. “Tomorrow we begin to practice for the trials.”
Some students groaned; others whispered excitedly.
“We’ll be on two teams,” he explained in a thick brogue. “Each team will have a flag planted somewhere on their side. Your job is to protect your flag and, if you can, take the other team’s.”
He stepped over Edward, who was still heaving from the workout. “I expect you to play fair. If you get shot, you leave the woods. Do you understand?”
The class moaned a lack-luster response.
“Dismissed!” he yelled.
Marzi caught up with Fritz. “Hey, I don’t know what’s going on with you right now, but I have some new thoughts about our discoveries last weekend. Can you come to the library today?”
“I can’t. I have to, uh, train. Boroda is really being hard on me.”
“Ok. Well, let’s meet tomorrow?” Marzi asked.
“Sure,” said Fritz. “Tomorrow is great.”
“See you then.” Marzi smiled and headed toward the girl’s locker room.
Fritz walked into the other locker room and heard Edward whimpering.
“Give them back!” he demanded.
Fritz rounded the corner. Nicholaus held Edward’s glasses above his head. Evgeny and Oleg stood next to him with arms folded. All three wore cruel grins.
“You have to take them, Squishy. Come on, be a man,” Nicholaus sneered.
Evgeny and Oleg exchanged snickers.
Edward noticed Fritz and called out, “Drossie, tell him to give me my glasses back.”
Nicholaus turned and smiled. “Oh, rats, guys. Look who showed up.”
“Give him the glasses, Nicholaus,” Fritz said and looked away.
Nicholaus folded the glasses in one hand. “No.”
Fritz felt his pulse quicken.
Nicholaus squeezed his hand, and the glasses crunched under his grip.
“Hey!” Edward yelled. “Drossie, stop him!”
Nicholaus sneered. “Yeah, Drossie, stop me.”
Fritz stood motionless.
Nicholaus backhanded Edward and the boy fell back, clutching his face.
The other boys in the locker room ran to see what the commotion was.
Nicholaus cocked his head. “You going to stop me, Drossie?”
Fritz gritted his teeth.
“That’s what I thought,” Nicholaus said. “Good boy,” he whispered and turned, stepping on the glasses as he left the locker room.
Fritz knelt down by Edward and helped him up. “You ok?”
“No thanks to you!” Edward spat and yanked his arm free.
Fritz sighed, “Edward …”
Edward collected the fragments of his glasses without acknowledging Fritz.
Fritz felt his temper flare. “Why didn’t you fight back?”
“He would have beaten me up!” said Edward.
“Well, I can’t fight all your fights for you,” said Fritz. “Maybe it is time to grow up and be a man.”
Edward screwed up his face then ran out of the gym.
Fritz growled and punched a locker. He rubbed his eyes and walked after the boy.
“Edward, stop!” he called.
He caught up with the chubby boy and grabbed his shoulder.
Edward turned around, tears streaming down his face. “What?”
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that,” Fritz said. “Things are kind of rough right now and I … I just …” He threw up his hands. “There’s no excuse. I’m sorry for saying that. Will you forgive me?” He extended his hand.
Edward considered the apology and accepted the gesture. His shoulders fell, and he huffed a long, belabored sigh. “I forgive you.”
“Thanks,” Fritz said. “And tomorrow, during trials, let’s disappear in the woods and skip the whole thing.”
“Deal. I’m pretty sure Nicholaus has already told his friends to save their ammo for me.”
“Why does he dislike you so much?”
“My dad isn’t just any duke or ambassador,” Edward said. “He’s next in line to rule the Southern Kingdom. Our King, my uncle, is sick and doesn’t have any children.”
Fritz let out a low whistle. “Wow.”
“The Southern Kingdom is the biggest threat to the Central, and Nicholaus’s dad …”
“I know who his dad is,” said Fritz.
“Nicholaus is trying to humiliate me in the eventuality that my family begins to rule.” Edward slumped his shoulders and reached up to adjust his absent glasses out of habit.
“Can’t your dad do anything to stop the bullying?” Fritz asked.
Edward shook his head. “I’m the youngest of four boys.”
Fritz looked confused.
“My oldest brother will be the King after my dad. Then my second, then my third … I’m the last in line. No one cares about the last in line.”
Fritz squeezed the despondent boy’s shoulder. “I care about the last in line.”
A genuine smile splayed across Edward’s face. “Thanks, Drossie.”
“I’m sorry for not sticking up for you,” Fritz said again. “I can’t explain it, but …” He paused. “I have to be careful with Nicholaus.”
“You don’t have to explain it to me.” Edward slumped his shoulders.
“It’s ok,” Edward said. “Maybe he’ll leave me alone for awhile. I have to go.” Edward stepped into a carriage, waved to Fritz, and was gone.
Fritz watched the carriage disappear around the corner. He walked to his hideaway in the hedges and traveled home.
He dressed, traveled to the training room, and began stretching. He and Boroda weren’t supposed to meet for another two hours, but ever since he’d overheard Boroda and General Andoyavich’s conversation, he purposed to do whatever it took to help keep Franz safe.
He began silently moving through the series of kicks and punches from his hand-to-hand combat training.
He envisioned Nicholaus and struck quickly.
He saw the Czar, surrounded by his guards, and hurried his attacks. He visualized the four guards advancing, and he brought them all down with a rapid succession of kicks and punches. Finally, he wiped the smug look off the Czar’s face with a lethal heel kick to the head.
“I’d hate to be whoever that was,” Boroda said from behind.
Fritz stood up and faced his teacher. His shirt was already sweat-stained, but he be
ckoned Boroda to the mat. “Let’s hope it ends better for you than it did for them.”
They sparred for an hour then finished the evening perfecting a generic but powerful blocking spell that would cover the most common magical strikes.
“If The Order is so powerful, and you’re all friends, why do I have to spend so much time on defensive spells against other wizards?” Doubled over and panting, Fritz was nearly spent from magical exertion.
“I want you to be prepared for everything. Even the unimaginable,” Boroda replied. He wiped off a blade with a rag and traveled it back to the rack.
“Do you trust The Order?” Fritz asked.
Boroda snickered and didn’t respond. He handed him the rag. “Finish cleaning these.”
Fritz obeyed. He smoothed the notches out of the blades and sharpened them on a stone. He finished wiping the blades down with oil and swiped the weapons through the open air.
“You want to threaten my brother?” he whispered to the imaginary Czar and stabbed the knives back into their slots. Once he was back in his room, he changed out of his sweaty clothes.
“Boroda doesn’t trust The Order, Doll,” he told the lopsided toy on his side table.
“If he can’t trust them, how can I trust anyone to keep Franz from harm?”
“I am unsure, sir,” Doll said mechanically.
“The answer is, I can’t!” Fritz said.
He put on his shoes.
“I need to find out where that General lives so I can keep an eye on my brother.”
Doll blinked and turned his head as Fritz walked over to his closet.
“Want to know how I’m going to find out where the General lives?” Fritz called to Doll.
Doll made no reply, and Fritz huffed in annoyance. He had enchanted Doll to respond to questions of ability but responses to questions about personal desires were tricky.
“Say ‘Yes,’ Doll,” he commanded.
“Yes,” Doll responded.
“Well, I’ll tell you. I’m traveling to the Czar’s palace to look for information.”
Chapter 12
Fritz didn’t wait for a response from Doll. He adjusted his cap, spun around, and traveled to the hallway outside the Czar’s office—a stun spell at the ready should he encounter anyone.
The hallway was empty, but he crept into a shadow just to make sure. He listened at the Czar’s door for the sound of any occupants, but it was quiet. He traveled inside the room to the far corner where he would be the most hidden should a guard be present.
Drosselmeyer: Curse of the Rat King Page 12