Drosselmeyer: Curse of the Rat King

by Paul Thompson

  Boroda looked up. “Perhaps I didn’t make myself clear where Marzi is concerned.”

  Fritz interrupted. “We were following up on our lead on Minerva Mooncup!”

  “Minerva …” Boroda stopped. “What has she got to do with this?”

  Fritz backed away a tiny step. “I tried to tell you a couple nights ago. Marzi and I figured out how the animals made it to our homes.”

  Boroda waited, and Fritz continued. “They’re being traveled in through the unseen section of our storage.”

  “How do you know this?” Boroda asked.

  “It’s the only place all of the wizards have in common that’s linked directly to our homes.”

  Boroda shook his head. “I think I would have noticed an ape.”

  “But would you have noticed a moth or a fly?” Fritz asked.

  Boroda froze.

  “We figured out that the animals were being traveled in but only after being morphed into another animal. We went to Minerva Mooncup’s shop to ask her if it was possible, but she thought we were working for whoever had hired her to make the morphing blend. She threatened to feed us to her gilly worms if we came back.”

  Boroda chuckled. “Gilly worms.”

  “Marzi and I traveled back today to get …” Fritz paused. He didn’t want to tell Boroda what he and Marzi had planned. “Information,” he said, breaking the pause quickly, “when we discovered that Minerva had been killed. When we were looking around, we got attacked by rats. There was this girl, Finuala, who was working the shop, but she disappeared. Marzi thinks she was the one who killed Minerva.”

  “I doubt Finuala was actually Finuala,” Boroda said.

  “What do you mean?” Fritz asked.

  Boroda stood up and turned in a circle. His clothing stretched, his hair grew, and his body shrank. When he faced Fritz again, he was a stunning brunette with blue eyes, dark red lips, and sensuous curves.

  Fritz gaped.

  “I’m Katie,” the woman said. Her voice was soft and feminine. She turned and was, once again, Boroda.

  “Wizards usually have several human personas to use as a disguise,” he explained. “Finuala could have been anyone.”

  Fritz shook his head. “That’s not the only thing.”

  Boroda raised his eyes. “There’s more?”

  “When I was fighting the rats, I was wiped out. I had no energy left and was about to pass out. Then I had this burning in my chest. My vision was both hazy and clear. I don’t know how to describe it any better than that, but I made magic happen that I don’t know the spells for. My apprentice charm had no energy stored, but I still killed all those rats.”

  Fritz paused to take a breath, and Boroda studied him carefully.

  “It felt like when I snapped,” Fritz finally admitted.

  Boroda stood and helped Fritz to his feet. “Thank you for telling me. I am glad you are safe, but …” He searched the room. “This relationship with Marzi needs to end.”

  Fritz lowered his head.

  “I can’t explain everything right now …”

  “Then when?” Fritz exploded. “You keep saying I’m not ready, but I’ve fought off enchanted animals, trained every day for months—I’ve even gained the trust of the apprentices. When will YOU trust me?”

  Boroda let the air clear. “After that little tirade, longer than I thought.”

  He vanished from the room, and Fritz threw a spear at the wall. The weapon wobbled in the wooden panel. Once it was still, Fritz returned it to its rack, repaired the gash in the wall, then traveled to his room.

  He wanted to be in the school library with Marzi. He enjoyed the seclusion of their little room. There was no magic or spells to worry about there. He laughed to himself. How strange that he felt the most free to love inside the restrictive confines of St. Michael’s.

  The thought triggered his memory of the dome surrounding the school. He washed quickly, changed clothes, and traveled to his own library. After a half hour of searching the shelves, he finally found a book that satisfied his curiosity.

  Ancient Magic: A Study by Artenimus Forge

  He skimmed the large book quickly, looking for any reference to domes. When he found it, he read carefully.

  Ancient magic was built on the concept of a globe or sphere. Every enchanted object was concealed in a sphere (for full coverage) or dome (for half coverage) of magic.

  While this practice of Globing or Doming items was faster, it proved to be less efficient and, therefore, was dropped for the modern practice of attaching an enchantment directly to the object being enchanted.

  The main reason for its ineffectiveness was the use of Capstone Glyphs. The Capstone Glyph (see picture opposite page) is a glyph placed at the top of the sphere or dome that holds all the accompanying spells used in the enchantment together. Once this capstone is removed, one may alter the enchantment as they wish or destroy it altogether.

  Fritz continued reading until the clock chimed midnight. He tossed the book in the air on the twelfth chime, and it vanished and materialized back in its place on the shelf. For good measure, he shook his fist and cursed the reshelving spell.

  He traveled back to his room and climbed in bed. Tomorrow, he and Marzi were going to give food and enchanted warming dolls to the poor kids in Anadorn. Normally, the prospect of spending time with her would make him too happy to sleep, but now, it made his stomach ache.

  He thought about their kiss and what Faruk had said about The Order’s reaction. He had no desire to make trouble with The Order and even less desire to cause any for Marzi.

  He pictured her smile, her laugh. He felt her lips on his. Fritz punched the bed.

  If he had a relationship with Marzi, it would be only a matter of time before The Order found out, and they would both suffer. Perhaps get removed.

  He wasn’t positive what would happen to the two of them, but he would put nothing past The Order if they felt their power was being threatened.

  He decided to tell Marzi that he could no longer spend time with her. He would, though, wait until after they had distributed their food and toys.

  Fritz covered his head with his pillow and rolled over in his bed. As much as it hurt to give up his time with Marzi, he had to do it for both their sakes. Another piece of him sacrificed on the altar of safety.

  The Order had taken his brother and now the girl he loved.

  As with the Czar, he had no choice.

  He was their property.

  Chapter 19

  Toby greeted Fritz and Marzi with a hug, leaving sooty handprints on their clothing. He was wearing a new coat, already covered in a thin layer of coal dust.

  “Hey Toby!” Fritz said. “We need your help.”

  “With what?” he asked.

  “Marzi and I have a bag of toys and food, and we want to pass them out to the kids here in Anadorn,” Fritz explained.

  His eyes grew wide. “For free? Like Christmas?”

  Fritz laughed. “Almost exactly like Christmas.”

  “Can you show us where they are?” Marzi asked.

  Toby thought a minute. “Let’s start in Milner’s Alley.”

  For the next three hours, Toby darted from house to house, with Fritz and Marzi in tow.

  The older children accepted the food and dolls with caution. The younger children latched on without a moment’s hesitation. Many of them were more excited about the toy than the food.

  When they took hold of the dolls and felt the warmth envelop them, every child, young and old, hugged them tighter and sighed.

  Marzi ran out of food before Fritz had emptied his room of toys.

  Fritz carried a leather bag large enough to conceal his whole arm. He traveled in a doll from the large pile in his room and presented it to a waiting child.

  As the day progressed, Fritz developed a flare for pulling the doll out, making it do flips in the air, and finally coming to rest in the expectant child’s arms. A crowd of children and adults gathered around t
o watch the tricks and applauded loudly when he balanced a doll in each hand and on his head. Fritz bowed, passed the dolls out, and motioned to Marzi, who only bowed her head.

  Marzi stood by, watching politely, but her expression was never more than amused congeniality.

  When the last doll had been handed out, Fritz and Marzi waved goodbye to Toby, who hugged them and raced off to join a group of boys.

  Marzi turned to leave, but Fritz stopped her.

  “We need to talk,” he said.

  She turned and folded her arms.

  “I understand my mistake. I crossed a line, and I’m sorry,” he began. “We are part of a group that requires us to be emotionally independent and …” He struggled for the next words.

  Marzi’s face was immovable.

  “I like you, Marzi.”

  Her eyes widened.

  “I like you a lot and … and every minute I spend with you, I like you more. But thinking we could ever be anything more than friends, given our situation, is ludicrous and potentially dangerous for us both.”

  She dropped her arms. Her mouth opened slightly.

  Fritz felt tears sting his eyes. “I think it’s best if we don’t see each other outside of school anymore.”

  Marzi bit her lip. A tear rolled down her cheek. She clamped her mouth shut, and her face scrunched into a scowl.

  “Fine,” she said.

  Fritz waited for her to say something else but she just glared at him.

  Marzi turned and vanished.

  Fritz didn’t bother to see if anyone was watching. He stepped from the alley into his room, a dark cloud of smoke dissipating behind him.

  That evening, after getting coached on formal attire and etiquette from Boroda, Fritz stood outside the Southern Kingdom’s embassy, dressed in a stiff tuxedo.

  A servant met him at the door and led him to the drawing room. It was filled with lavishly dressed women in flowing skirts. Each woman had jewels hanging from her neck, ears, and hair. The men wore black formal attire with medals and bars signifying political and military rank pinned to their jackets. Servants milled around with trays of food and drinks held high, waiting for guests to avail themselves of the delicacies.

  Edward met him just inside the door of the drawing room. “I am so glad you’re here. The adults are talking about taxes and codes and land and—ugh. I was about to fake an illness just to leave.”

  “Have you gotten to talk to your brother yet?” Fritz asked.

  “No. He’s been busy the whole time,” Edward confessed. “Everyone wants to talk to him.”

  “I need to get him alone,” Fritz reminded him.

  Edward frowned pensively. “After dinner, everyone will move to the den or the patio. We can try to get him then.”

  “Ok,” Fritz said. “But he has to be alone. I need to know what he knows about Perrin.”

  “And how we can escape his ghost during final examinations,” Edward added with a serious tone.

  After an interminably long dinner, dessert, and official toasts, the company wandered to various rooms to talk, smoke, or enjoy coffee.

  Edward pulled Fritz over to a corner where several men were arguing.

  “Richard!” he called out and, when ignored, yelled again louder.

  The tall, slender man with his back to them turned. “Not now, Edward.”

  “I wanted to introduce you to my friend,” Edward began, but Richard was already in a full-voiced argument with the other men again. Edward tugged on his arm and Richard turned around, red faced. “Can you talk to my friend …”

  “No, Edward, I’m busy,” he said again, but before he turned back, Fritz grasped his hand in a tight handshake.

  Richard started and stared at Fritz. “It’s good to meet you,” Richard said pointedly and tried to yank his hand away.

  “And you,” Fritz added. “I was wondering if we could go somewhere quiet to talk?”

  “I’m afraid it will have to wait. I am otherwise engaged.” Richard motioned to the group of men who hadn’t seemed to notice his absence.

  Fritz didn’t release his grip. “My Uncle Boroda sends you his greetings.”

  Richard froze. He motioned with his head, and he, Fritz, and Edward left the room and walked down the hall to a large, unoccupied sitting room.

  Richard shut the door and turned to face Fritz. “Who are you, and what is this about?”

  “My name is Drosselmeyer, and it’s about Perrin.” The words spilled out and Fritz swallowed, trying to calm his thumping heart.

  Richard stiffened. “What about him?”

  “I need to ask you some questions about him.”

  Richard’s face flashed with anger, but he recovered and replied in a soft, nonchalant tone. “Why do you think I would know anything about him?”

  “I thought you were …” Edward jumped in but Fritz stopped him with his hand.

  He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out the stack of letters and handed them to him.

  Richard breathed in. He turned to his younger brother and barked, “Edward, leave us.”

  Edward protested but when his older brother snapped his fingers, he deflated and obeyed with reluctance.

  “Where did you get these?” Richard demanded.

  “From Edward,” Fritz answered. “He assured me he didn’t read them.”

  “What business are these of yours?” He held the stack of letters out.

  “I have questions about his death.” Fritz spoke in a calm, even manner, trying to diffuse Richard’s agitation.

  “Why not ask your uncle?” Richard asked, his annoyance growing.

  “My uncle has forbidden any discussion regarding Perrin,” Fritz explained. “You’re the only person I know of who might be able to clarify some questions I have about him and his death.”

  “His body was found in the woods. That’s what the papers said, and that’s all I know of it,” Richard spat.

  “The nature of your letters suggests that you were good friends. I find it hard to believe that’s all you know of it.”

  “Again, Master Drosselmeyer, I don’t see how my friendships, be it with your cousin or not, are any of your business.”

  “Because, sir,” Fritz said, “I suspect foul play. I found a note from Perrin in a book in my uncle’s library before I even read your letters. He was researching something sensitive, the repercussions of which are still relevant and potentially dangerous to me and people I love.”

  Fritz slid Perrin’s note across the table. He sat up, trying to match Richard’s posture and regal air of authority.

  Richard picked it up, read it, then slid it back to Fritz. “What was he researching?”

  “That is extremely sensitive,” Fritz confided. “I will tell you if it means reciprocity of information, but I need your word that you will be discrete.”

  Richard studied Fritz, then, after a look of satisfaction, nodded his agreement. “And likewise, you must promise on the Watcher and your eternal soul that what I say here does not leave this room.”

  Fritz agreed.

  Richard moved farther away from the door, sat down, and motioned for Fritz to do the same.

  “Perrin and I were best friends. We met at St. Michael’s as children, and it was as if we were from the same womb. Though I was never allowed to visit his home—something of an oddity, your uncle is—Perrin was a constant resident here at the embassy.

  “We spent most of our childhood exploring the woods behind my estate. They are a large wood filled with many adventures for two boys at play. In fact, if you go far enough into them, you will come to the fields behind St. Michael’s.

  “One day, while at play, we found a cave. It was well hidden by brush, and you had to approach it from a very overgrown side of the hill to even see the entrance. It immediately became our fortress. Over the years, it was many things—a pirate’s cove, a rowdy pub, a magical entrance to a mystical world of elves and fairies …”

  Richard looked away and spoke
as if in a dream. “As we grew older, our affection for each other … grew and the cave was used for … other purposes.

  “Because of my family’s position and my expected service to the crown, the nature of our friendship had to remain a secret, or the shame that would befall my name and prospects would doom me and my family to ruin.

  “The cave was, ironically, the only place where I could be myself and also live in a fantasy.” He paused to catch his composure.

  “The letters you read were written during the summer of my last year at St. Michael’s. I spent that summer in the capital city of Thalmin, in the king’s court. It was a busy summer of meeting people and being introduced in influential circles.

  “I’m afraid that my replies to Perrin weren’t as numerous as his letters to me. I hid these letters in my trunk and sent it back at the end of my time in Thalmin, only to be forgotten—until now, obviously.”

  He inhaled deeply and slowly released the breath. “However, his last letter to me spoke of something he had discovered that was quite sinister. It also referenced a secret he had to tell me but one that had to be delivered in person.

  “On this same trip, I was betrothed to the woman who is now my wife. It was a political match, of course, but that’s the way things work, and Perrin and I were very open with each other about the limitations of our friendship.

  “I came home, fully committed to honoring my duty to king and country, and convinced myself that I would be as distant from him as I could.

  “When he asked to meet at the cave, I had every intention of telling him no—that my position and career were at stake, and a friendship like ours could not continue for fear of discovery.

  “I went to the cave with the sole purpose of telling him exactly that, but when I saw him waiting for me in our sanctum, my passion got the better of me. Before he could relay any information, we were … otherwise engaged in activity that was not conducive to talking.”

  Richard lowered his voice. The crackling fire nearby washed him in a warm light. “It was during the middle of this … meeting … that I was struck from behind on the head, and when I regained consciousness, Perrin was dead.”

  The pounding in his chest reverberated in his ears, but Fritz sat motionless.