The Magic Trick (The Card Game #2)

Ch 9 - A New Curriculum

CHAPTER IX

A NEW CURRICULUM

School had been bad enough before the circus. Now Viktor spent most of his class time watching the door and most of his lunchtime watching his back. It was exhausting wondering what his enemies knew, not knowing what their plans were, not knowing when or if they would hunt him down. The Gypsies, annoyingly, walked on eggshells whenever they were around Viktor, but the serf girls took the news of the poisoning even harder.

Charlotta had withdrawn into a vault, almost as if she were turning into a replica of her woe-ridden mother. She refused to touch a quill in class and barely spoke unless it was to Arseni or Evenova. Evenova was the complete opposite: She frantically tried to form plans, plot against the circus, and rescue their friends from dangers that had yet to materialize. Viktor didn't know which was worse—seeing Charlotta internalize her every fear, or having to endlessly report Romulus' doings to Evenova. He honestly didn't know which girl would blow up first, only that when one did, it would spell disaster.

Amazingly, Romulus—the center of the danger—was the only one to remain in good spirits. Word of his identity had spread among the miners and greater Aryk, and he claimed to be gaining new information and connections daily. What that would mean for the future Viktor still couldn't say, and he wasn't sure if he wanted to find out. The last days of October lingered, as did the circus that was inexplicably rooted in fields outside Prospekt Street.

**

"So you really live in Kasta Way?" Sofiya said, twisted around in her seat.

 "Sure. In a house at the graveyard," said Cappi.

"It must be frightening," said Narkissa. Her eyes flickered to Ollyver, whom she'd called it quits with over summer.

Dukker shrugged. "For serfs maybe."

Viktor rolled his eyes. It was another morning in the schoolhouse spent waiting for Instructor Pluma to arrive and fill everyone's heads with false promises and praise. At least the twins' booming popularity was good entertainment.

Sofiya batted her eyelashes. "Is it true there are bonfires every night?"

"And markets full of silk dresses and jewels?" whispered Narkissa.

"You should see for yourself," Cappi said. "I don't advise visiting Kasta Way alone, but if you had a guide..."

Belch skidded his chair over and Viktor winced at the screeching noise. "By my troth, I'll go with thee to the lane's end."

"Oh ... you would be the guide?" Narkissa said with mild horror.

"I'll put a girdle round about the earth in forty minutes," piped Belch. "Westward, ho."

"Excuse me?" snapped Sofiya.

Dukker mock-smiled. "I think Belch is telling the truth. Did you know he had to wear a girdle last year?"

"Oh, that one may smile, and smile, and be a villain," Belch hissed, turning pale.

"It's true," said Cappi. "Captain Ulfrik got him right in the backside with a lit cigar. Go on, Belch, show the girls your scar."

Deciding that that was a good moment to turn away, Viktor caught sight of Charlotta entering the classroom with her face streaked in tears. Evenova tried to console her, but Charlotta shook her off and sat by Arseni, not saying a word.

Evenova plopped down by Viktor. "It's her father," she said without him asking. "He's been doing worse."

Viktor sighed inwardly. He knew Charlotta's story—a drunkard father, a present but absent mother, and an infant sister lost to the Card rebellion. It seemed like none of Aryk's families had ever fully recovered from that fateful night; some wounds were just more visible than others. Viktor wondered if that was why he felt so hot and cold about Charlotta. She was someone he could relate to, but that link also reminded him of his own painful problems.