The Magic Trick (The Card Game #2)

Ch 11 - Beyond the Black Gates

CHAPTER XI

BEYOND THE BLACK GATES

An hour later, Viktor headed south carrying all his earthly belongings, which was quite depressing considering that he had only a few coins in his pocket and a bundle of clothes slung over his shoulder in a canvas sack. Nevertheless, he had his father's old pocket watch hanging in his coat, and the ten of spades card folded up inside the watch willed him to put one foot in front of the other. He exited the forest and continued south. The burnt schoolhouse passed. Clouded, empty plains passed. The tents of the Bizarre Bazaar passed on the horizon, as did Town Square. The only constant was Aryk's river, which stuck by his side, subtly reminding him of the long death toll of the Card rebellion. Then came the final, little-used southern road.

Viktor was beyond petrified. He had approached the castle but once, and that time he had been blindfolded. As it came into sight, he half-wished he were blindfolded again, for Staryi Castle was as terrible as it was beautiful. Four great turrets built of white stone formed the corners of the castle, while three inner towers loomed up to the dark sky. Of the three, the eastern tower was oldest and the brightest white; the two gray western towers were an addition that the Leopard had built onto Ivan the Terrible's work. Viktor knew the latter towers housed many strange experiments, and he remembered all too well Romulus' fall from their peaks.

Possibly more fearsome than the castle itself were its gates. Sitting between lofty walls of white stone, the black iron entrance was a diseased mouth whose black iron bars gleamed like devilish teeth, ready to gnash and break whatever poor souls dared enter, swallowing them into the belly of the beast. Viktor had to remind himself of what would befall his family and himself if he didn't comply with his orders, if he didn't keep walking.

They didn't try to poison you, Viktor thought. They don't know who you are. You're safe ... or as safe as the others.

And there were many others waiting at the gates, a few dozen. They stood in small circles and spoke in whispers or not at all. Everyone's eyes continually flickered at the two black-clad guards posted by the wall, who gazed straight ahead as if the students didn't exist.

Viktor spotted his old serf friends, as well as a few enemies and some younger students he didn't recognize. He joined Evenova and the Gypsies, apparently being one of the last students to arrive. The minutes ticked by in silence as their mutual dread heightened.

"Open the gates!"

The cried order was met with great clicks of latches being unlocked, followed by the creaking of iron. Guards from inside the walls pulled the tremendous gate inward to reveal a commander Viktor instantly recognized.

Lieutenant Vyrhus stood with his blood-red hair and his black cape gathered around him so that he was no more than an elongated white face. He turned, but then he paused and glanced back, the pallid skin around his mouth tightening. "Welcome to Staryi Castle."

A tingling sense of déjà vu settled on Viktor as he and the other unsure students followed the Head Guard down the white stone path that led through a courtyard overgrown with weeds. A dried-out well and strange statues flanked the path. Then came the twin lion statues that guarded the great oak doors of the castle's keep. Lieutenant Vyrhus strode through the massive marble entrance hall and headed east to the servant housing.

Viktor saw the other students—serf, Gypsy, and noble—gaping at the royalty around them, yet he did no such thing. A sickening feeling overcame him as he trod through magnificent rooms and hallways—the same sensation he felt when he had stared at noble estates as a child. This was the fruit of centuries of slavery. Corruption was sewn into each tapestry; each perfectly aligned stone was grouted with indentured sweat. He found himself in the nest of his foes. How would he survive?