“So maybe they raised them.”
“That would take a great deal of money,” Marzi explained. “You’re looking at an even smaller pool of wizards to choose from.”
“Okay, so, we’re looking for a powerful wizard with enough resources to capture or raise wild animals, enchant them, and purchase morphing herbs, and someone who knows how we access unknown objects in storage,” Fritz said.
“If you look at wizards powerful enough to do all that, there are three. Mortin, Domicles, and Herrin. But I wouldn’t call any of them wealthy, and they don’t have apprentices. None of them know about our infinity storage rooms, that I’m aware of. They’re eccentric and mostly stick to themselves.” Marzi rubbed her hands.
“But that only leaves us with …” Fritz trailed off.
“The Order,” Marzi finished.
Fritz thought for a moment. “If we ever want to catch the guilty wizard, we can’t tip them off with what we know.”
Both Marzi and Andor agreed.
“We can’t tell the others,” Fritz resolved.
“Everything we know stays here,” Marzi said.
Andor crossed the first two fingers of both hands.
Marzi did the same.
“What’s that?” Fritz asked.
“It’s a wizard’s promise,” Marzi informed him.
Fritz shrugged and copied them. “I guess I wizard promise too, then.”
“How do the rats fit in with this?” Marzi asked.
“Let’s save that for a different day,” Fritz told her. “I have some ideas, but I want to check them out first.”
“Ok. I guess I’ll see you both next week?” Marzi stood up, waved to them both, and left.
Fritz and Andor followed her out, and they all walked to their prospective traveling locations and traveled home.
When Fritz tumbled into his room, he jumped on his bed and reached over to the bedside table to grab the worn book on mind control.
The note was still under the lamp, but the book was gone. The spell that reshelved books had taken the book from his room and put it back in the library.
“Watcher, curse your mother!” Fritz swore.
He decided to walk to the library to retrieve the book rather than travel. The stairs provided a good opportunity to work on his leg muscles and the old mansion was nothing if not interesting to explore.
Down the hallway, he heard Boroda’s voice shout followed by the fleshy smack of a fist on furniture.
Fritz stopped at the top of the stairs then crept slowly toward Boroda’s bedroom. He padded softly on the hallway rug and stopped outside Boroda’s door.
“Watcher, curse that infernal coward!” Boroda shouted and hit another piece of furniture.
“Klazinsky didn’t know much. We should still be safe, but we need to rethink our strategy,” another voice said.
Fritz recognized General Andoyavich’s low growl through the mirror. His heart stopped when he heard Klazinsky’s name.
“Why the wife and children, too?” Boroda moaned.
“To send a message to the rest of us,” Andoyavich said. “You must speak to the others in The Order. This is treason, plain and simple.”
Guilt burned in Fritz’s stomach. He could have saved Klazinsky if he’d been honest with Boroda, but he didn’t expect the murder to happen so quickly.
“No!” Boroda shouted. “I have no backing in The Order. They would all side with Borya, and there is no way I can fight them all.”
“Then at least find and kill the Black Wizard,” Andoyavich shouted back.
“I can’t trace him!” Boroda hit something again. “If I can’t trace him, I can’t find him. If I can’t find him, I can’t kill him.”
“The Czar is planning another party.” Andoyavich raised his voice. “The mines are bad enough for these boys but the parties …”
Boroda cut him off with a loud roar. “I know!”
There was silence, and Boroda spoke more calmly. “I know,” he breathed out. “We have one shot to destroy The Order and the Czar. If we blow it, both of us are dead, and it won’t help any of the children.”
After a bit of silence, the muffled voice responded, “I understand. The others are getting nervous.”
“The charms will be ready soon. I have a few more enchantments, and then I will send them out,” Boroda replied, suddenly sounding very tired.
“Please hurry,” Andoyavich pleaded. “Our window of success grows smaller. The Black Wizard is continuing to pick us off.”
“I need to go train my apprentice,” Boroda said abruptly.
“Is he ready?”
“Not yet. Soon, I hope.”
Fritz heard heavy footsteps coming toward the door and traveled back to his room in a panic. He hoped his smoke trail was gone by the time Boroda exited.
Boroda said nothing about him being in the hallway that afternoon during training, so he figured he had eluded discovery.
In the days following, Fritz attacked his lessons with renewed vigor. He lifted heavier weights, scaled the hanging rope faster, fenced harder, and cast spells with more energy.
He wanted to know more about the festive party General Andoyavich referenced, as well as the mines. Fritz wasn’t sure what boys had to do with any of it but suspected there were more forces at play than he knew.
For now, he needed to focus on his training, the animal attacks, and, if he had time, the mysterious note he had found in the library.
After training, he traveled to the library and found the mind control book back on the shelf where the reshelving spell had placed it.
Try as he may, he could not understand the book. Rather than show the spells needed to control someone, it described, in great detail, the psyche and mental responses to magical aggression. If it did list shapes required to use mind control, it left out the order in which to draw them or what direction they had to spin before casting.
Fritz fell asleep in the window nook reading the confusing passages. He was no closer to understanding the magic of mind control, and his thoughts kept drifting from the Black Wizard to Boroda’s secret quest to destroy the group of wizards he was sworn to serve.
His one comfort was his master’s commitment to the demise of Czar Nicholaus, the man who had threatened his brother.
He would assist in that endeavor at any cost.
Chapter 13
“Have you heard from Edward?” Marzi asked Fritz. She was lying on the couch in the library turret, feet draped over the arm, science book open in her lap.
Andor glanced over at them from his spot on the rug, eyes locked on their lips.
Fritz looked up from his owl sketch and wrinkled his nose. “No.”
Marzi sat up. “I didn’t see him at all last week, either.”
“I think what happened in the woods freaked him out. I don’t blame him. It freaked me out, too,” Fritz said.
“Have you made any headway on the rats?” she asked.
Andor motioned from his place on the floor, and Fritz apologized.
“Sorry,” he signed. “I will … try?”
He looked at Marzi, and she showed him the correct sign to use.
“I will try to … sign … when I talk,” Fritz said.
Andor grinned.
“What’s your hypothesis?” Marzi asked.
“Mind control,” Fritz said and spelled the words out.
“Animals don’t have a mind,” Marzi quipped. “They only have instincts.”
“Right,” Fritz said, “but I’m reading this book I found, and it says that ‘mind control’ for animals has to do with shaping their instincts.”
He put his picture down and brushed the charcoal off his hands. “Dogs like to sniff, right? That’s their instinct. But you can shape that instinct to sniff one thing over another. So they’d sniff rabbits but not squirrels.”
Marzi bit her lower lip. “But none of the animals that were sent to attack us hunt humans. Even Andor’s bear will only attack a huma
n if provoked.”
“That’s the advanced part of mind control on animals!” Fritz said excitedly, giving up on signing. “I don’t understand it very well, and the book describes the spells instead of drawing them, so I haven’t been successful in testing them … But from what the book says, you can make a lion want to eat a cabbage instead of an antelope.”
“That still wouldn’t explain the rats,” said Marzi. “None of the other students got attacked or said anything about seeing them. They were after us! And not just us …” She motioned to herself, Fritz, and Andor. “They attacked Edward as well.”
“Which means they were given specific targets. Not just ‘attack the wizards,’” Fritz said.
“Whoever is controlling these animals is really good.” Marzi shivered.
“And really dangerous,” Fritz added.
“You should go see if Edward is ok,” Marzi suggested as she stood to leave.
Fritz leaned back and stretched. “Ok. I’ll go on Saturday or Sunday if I have time. Actually, wait. I don’t know where he lives.”
“I believe it’s on Ambassador’s Row,” Marzi said while packing her bag. “Just travel around the outside of the forest until you see a large house with the Southern Kingdom’s flag on it. Or you could ask Vivienne. The Southern Kingdom is Sylvia’s territory. Maybe she’s been there. I have to go. See you all on Monday.” She waved goodbye and left the two boys alone.
Fritz and Andor talked a little while longer and then packed to leave. As they neared the second-floor landing, Fritz stopped Andor.
He signed, “I hear a noise.”
Andor shrugged and kept walking.
“Stop! I mean it.” Fritz motioned with sharp, punctuated movements. “It’s Vivienne. She’s crying.”
Andor’s face darkened and scanned the room, searching for Vivienne. Fritz followed the sound toward the back corner of the second floor.
“Stop it, Evgeny!” said Vivienne.
Evgeny whooped a high, quick exclamation of pleasure. His actions were being cheered on by several other guys.
Fritz and Andor quickened their pace, dodging bookshelves, carts, and end tables.
“I said stop! Get off me,” Vivienne cried, her voice tense and desperate.
A loud slap, followed by a short, feminine scream, stopped Fritz. The assault was followed by a chorus of “oohs” by several others.
Peering through a small gap of books, Andor and Fritz could clearly make out the small assembly.
Nicholaus sat on a divan, arms draped around a wide-eyed Gelé. Evgeny had Vivienne pinned on a table with his body, but she held both of his hands by the wrists. Her shirt was crumpled, exposing her midriff.
A heap of liquor bottles cluttered the small table in front of the couch, most of them empty. The sour tang of alcohol permeated the air. Both Fritz and Andor could smell it from their hiding place several yards away.
“Evgeny, leave her alone,” Gelé slurred. She turned to Nicholaus. “Tell him to stop.”
Nicholaus shrugged but said nothing.
Gelé started to get up, but Nicholaus grabbed her waist and yanked her back down into the chair.
“Ow! Stop! You’re hurting me,” Vivienne cried out.
Evgeny grabbed both her wrists with one hand, wrenched his other hand free, and began to paw blindly at the bottom of her clothing.
Fritz breathed quickly. His anger flared, but he stayed still. Boroda was very clear about his boundaries where Nicholaus was concerned, but he never said anything about Evgeny or Oleg. They were fair game. He was about to sign something when Andor rushed past him, covering the distance in seconds.
He grabbed Evgeny by the collar and threw him so violently against a bookshelf, the giant oak furniture tottered. He grabbed the two closest boys, still stunned, and smashed them together like a pair of human cymbals. They crumpled in a heap on the floor.
Oleg ran at Andor, bottle in one hand, and threw a punch with his other, but Andor caught his fist and twisted it. The boy screamed, and Andor connected a right hook to his face. Oleg flipped over the chair and lay motionless on the floor in front of Nicholaus and Gelé.
Gelé tore away from Nicholaus and joined her sister behind Andor.
Fritz rounded the bookshelf, stepping over Evgeny’s body. He put a hand on Andor.
“That’s enough,” he signed.
Andor nodded and then snarled at Nicholaus.
Nicholaus retreated unsteadily, buzzed from the alcohol, but with eyes wide open in fear of the hulking student standing over him.
Fritz smiled at him and winked. Nicholaus, drunk as he was, registered the insult but only curled his lip in retaliation.
Fritz motioned to Gelé and Vivienne, and they exited the library.
When they got outside, Vivienne hugged Andor tightly.
“Thank you!” she gushed.
Gelé lowered her head. “Thank you.” She twisted her fingers, then stepped forward and hugged the large apprentice.
Andor, fully wrapped in the girl’s embrace, gave Fritz a thumbs-up.
Vivienne looked at Fritz. “I’m sorry for not sticking up for you—you know, with the rats.”
“Was that Nicholaus?” Fritz asked.
Gelé answered. “Yes it was, and I’m sorry, too.”
Fritz shook his head, confused. “Is Nicholaus a wizard?”
The girls laughed.
“No,” Vivienne said.
“Then how’d he do that? All the rats?”
“His dad is the Czar of the Central Kingdom,” Vivienne explained. “He could probably pay Ms. Wakimba enough to put a rat in your bag.”
Fritz chuckled. “That would probably take a lot of money.”
Gelé held her sister but spoke to Fritz. “I promise you, the rats were not magical. Especially at school. He probably got one of his buddies to do it. They certainly had a good time laughing about it.”
Fritz started to tell them about the woods, but then thought better of it. “I bet they make smarter choices after today.”
Gelé and Vivienne looked doubtful but didn’t contradict him.
They all said goodbye and traveled home.
After training with Boroda for several hours, Fritz collapsed into bed. Before he turned off the lights, he pulled out the note from his nightstand and read it again.
Why?
Plan?
Good or Bad?
Tell Boroda?
Tell R?
“About WHAT does he want to know and WHY, Doll?” Fritz asked.
The wooden toy turned its head and blinked. “I am unsure, sir.”
Fritz shivered. “You are so creepy.”
He studied the note more. What plan? His own? Someone else’s? Was it a good plan? Or was something else good or bad? Did he tell Boroda? Did he tell R? Who is R? Who is HE?
Fritz shoved the note back in the stand. “Come on, Doll. Help me out. Who wrote this note?”
“I am unsure, sir.” The doll blinked again, and Fritz sent it flying across the room with a little push.
“Creepy doll,” he muttered and went to sleep.
Saturday trainings were the most grueling. They started with calisthenics then moved to weight training. Weapons came next and finally lunch. After lunch they practiced enchantments, then they ended with combat.
By the end of a Saturday training session, Fritz could barely crawl from his bath to his bed.
On Sunday, his day off, he decided to go visit Edward.
After traveling from bush to bush all the way around the perimeter of the forest, then walking two miles in the open, he finally found Edward’s house.
It was a large, red brick townhouse with a Southern Kingdom flag waving proudly in the front yard. The gate was open, so Fritz walked to the door and rang the bell.
A maid opened the door and, after discovering whom he was looking for, informed him that the master was sick, and he would need to call later.
“Please, ma’am,” Fritz asked politely. “Could
you tell him Drossie is here?”
The maid curtsied politely and asked him to wait in the foyer while she relayed the message. A few minutes later, she ushered him up the stairs to Edward’s room.
Edward was propped up on pillows, staring out the window in a very melodramatic fashion.
“Thank you, Annie,” he said with a weak, breathy voice. “You may go.”
She curtsied again and left.
He immediately sat up in bed and exclaimed energetically, “Hey, Drossie. Why are you here?”
“I wanted to check on you. Make sure you weren’t dying. We’ve missed you at school.”
Edward looked at the closed door and leaned forward. He whispered in a hushed, conspiratorial tone. “I can’t go to school ever again. I can’t go back into the woods.”
“We’ve been several times since then and haven’t seen any rats,” Fritz assured him.
Edward shook his head. “I think the rats were a warning. I’m not going to chance it.”
“A warning?” Fritz asked.
“Yes! From Perrin’s ghost.”
“It’s just a story. There’s no such thing …”
Edward cut him off. “I have proof!”
He jumped from his bed and ran to his closet, climbed on a chair, and pulled a small box from the top shelf. From this box, he took out a stack of envelopes bound together by a ribbon. He tossed them to Fritz.
“I told you Perrin was a friend of my brother’s,” Edward said triumphantly. “Well, they were good friends. Maybe even best friends. They wrote to each other a lot, at any rate.
“I was bored last weekend, and it was too cold to go outside, so I decided to rummage through the attic. I found these tucked in the side pocket of a chest.”
Fritz opened the letters and gasped. The calligraphy was unmistakably the same as the words on the note he’d found in Boroda’s library.
Fritz scanned the first letter until he found the signature.
Yours truly,
Perrin
“See?!” Edward squeaked. “He’s real, and he died in the woods. He haunts all the people that disturb him. He probably died under the tree I was climbing. I don’t know how, but I do know I’m not going back. Ever.”
“Edward,” Fritz cut in. “Who knows about these letters?”
Edward shrugged his shoulders. “No one. Just me … and my brother, I suppose.”
Drosselmeyer: Curse of the Rat King Page 14