The Magic Trick (The Card Game #2)

Ch 23 - The Latin Trial

CHAPTER XXIII

THE LATIN TRIAL

"Get up, Viktor."

A dirty pillow smacked Viktor out of his nightmare. He felt his sheets yanked off. Cracking open an eye to see Roksana dressed and ready, he recoiled, not at all happy about being caught in his nightclothes. But she only winked and proceeded to kick her brothers awake, so Viktor stretched and—sensing something at the foot of his bed—shot up, smashing his back against his headboard.

"Blast it, Belch!" Viktor gasped. "Ever heard of boundaries?"

The tiny Gypsy sat cross-legged atop the sheets and shook his round face. "Nay, I could be bounded in a nut shell and count myself a king of infinite space ... were it not that I have bad dreams."

Viktor ran a hand through his dark, sweaty hair. "Bad dreams ... Huh, I just had a bad one myself," he murmured. "I was with Pollex in the gardens ... and suddenly the Leopard was there too ... He wanted to talk ... but not by the pond ... I think he was afraid of being near the water."

"That was no dream," Roksana said from across the room. "You told us about it last week—after the Botany lesson. And remember today's the Latin Trial. So hurry up—all of you!"

Belch rolled his eyes. "Here'll be an old abusing of God's patience and the King's English."

"You're abusing my patience!" Viktor snapped. "Get out of here! Let me dress!"

As the room cleared, Viktor readied himself with Arseni and twins. None of them were particularly concerned about the Latin Trial, for they doubted that any written test could be worse than the dangers they had faced in the Zoology, Scientia, and Mineralogy disciplines. Still, Viktor's dream reminded him of a more painful truth: His final attempt to speak with the Botany Instructor had been botched, and he hadn't been able to find Pollex since. Now the second to last Trial was upon them. Time was almost up. After the final Infusions Trial, Apprentices would be chosen, and if the Ghosts hadn't been rescued by then, Viktor and his friends might be doomed to share their fate.

Viktor cursed the Leopard in his mind, but the mere memory of that cold, dark shadow filled him with dread. Neither did he want to dwell on the dangerous rescue plan that the Gypsies had adopted, so he left their dorm and headed into the gathering room. The Latin Trial was scheduled early, and with no chance to visit the dining hall, Miss Nardin had servants bring in trays of black bread and pumpkin juice. The housekeeper's face softened as she looked out over the students.

"I don't know what'll be happening today," she said in her gruff but motherly tone, "only that it's almost over. It's almost over. Hold steadfast, you lot. Keep faith."

"Cork your mouth already, wench," Fredek snarled as he cut through the line and grabbed his breakfast. "Go scrub a floor."

Viktor sighed and shook his head, but as the younger Spektor brother turned, they were suddenly face-to-face. Looking down, his gaze landed on Fredek's stumped, bandaged arm that rested in a sling stained with blood: The result of the previous Trial in the Mineralogy cavern.

"And as for you," Fredek hissed, "you're going to pay for what you've done to me."

Saying nothing, Viktor glanced at Boris, who scowled in the background, and back to Fredek. Thankfully the moment soon passed, and then he was able to sit and eat and drink with his friends in peace—or at least a relative peace.

Sergeant Bogatir banged the door open, his giant frame filling up the entire threshold. His red, stone-like face cracked into a smile, and without a word, his wild black hair whipped around and led the march away. The other students were quick to follow, but Viktor trailed behind as he scanned the hallway.