The Magic Trick (The Card Game #2)

Ch 34 - Good and Bad Tidings

CHAPTER XXXIV

GOOD AND BAD TIDINGS

Despite the thorns and dense hedges, and the many injured circus youths and Cards, the trip through the Great Fairy Ring went quickly. After all, Feliks had years of practice navigating the maze, and it showed when he squeezed through passages and gaps easy to overlook. He still had his king of diamonds card to guide him, and Viktor had to marvel each time he caught a glimpse of it. He was walking beside the real King of Diamonds, the treasurer of the Cards, a founding father. There was so much to ask that Viktor would never know where to begin.

Upon reaching the final clearing, Feliks pried open the grass-covered trapdoor. He led the way into the House of Cards, and one-by-one the circus youths and prisoners climbed down the stairs after him. Down below, Viktor expected to find the headquarters in a similar state as he had last seen it—with shelves and sheets and papers in total chaos. The last thing he anticipated was to find everything in its proper place, all down to the decorative fur skins that had been hung on the walls.

Most of the guests were tired enough that they were already finding corners to curl up and sleep in; those who weren't were offered jugs of water and wine and loaves of bread from Feliks' store. Viktor stood quietly and watched the scene, not knowing what to do. When the people were taken care of, the Magician met his eyes, sighed, and nodded at the adjoining armory room.

Viktor followed him in and glanced around. "You cleaned."

Feliks winced as he sank down against a row of polished rifles, a hard feat with one arm and no depth perception. "Yes ... Yes, I began to feel quite guilty about pulling this place apart ... many memories."

"Why did you pull it apart?" Viktor asked, taking a seat on a gunpowder cask.

"I was looking for the Betrayer of Cards," said Feliks. "I went through everything. I thought for sure I would find something ... a clue or a sign ... some indication."

Viktor's pulsed raced. Through the open doorway he could see Florica sitting against a lonely wall. It was as if she hadn't left her prison cell, the way her frail arms wrapped around knees drawn tight against her chest. Viktor wondered if it mattered anymore that she'd betrayed the Cards. Feliks had a right to know, but did he have to know right now? Why break his heart when it had just healed? Why end this talk when it had just started?

"So it really was you who wrote the Brassard graffiti?" Viktor hissed. "'The Betrayer of Cards is in our midst?'"

"Aye," said Feliks, "that first message was meant to confirm what the Cards guessed to be true: That someone close to us, probably someone who never left Aryk, betrayed us ... Someone so close that we were blind."

Worried about cracking, Viktor forced himself to change the subject. "What about the next message? 'The Wild Card rises from the grave to take revenge?' Romulus thought it was about him."

"A strange coincidence that we were both presumed dead," said Feliks. "But no, I meant to tell the Cards that I had survived the rebellion and returned. A wild card can morph into any role. Spades, Clubs, Hearts, my old Diamond allies: I would have led them all ... if they had let me."

"'Faithful Sons gather round him,'" murmured Viktor.

"Yes, 'The Last King comes to take the crown.'" Feliks grunted. "Not quite. Not when every ally I've ever had distrusts me—not when they rightly know I'm unworthy to lead."

"What? You're—"

"I don't need your pity, Viktor. You must understand. I was never great like Maksim—strong like Leonid—loved like Vitaly. Men would follow those three to the end of the earth. But me? All I ever did was scheme and swindle. My own suit has always been wary of me; you can imagine what the others think ... That's why it would do no good for me to stay, not when others need my help."