The Silent Deal: The Card Game, Book 1

by Levi Stack

PARTY

  Viktor's tongue was tied in knots. The cynical half of him couldn't come to believe Romulus had grown up next door to him in secrecy; the believing half was simply bewildered.

  "My most humbling secret," Romulus said, eyeing the hovel with both pity and longing. "You wanted to question her. Here's your chance."

  Viktor felt a wave of sickness as he was pulled toward the door. "L-Let's go back. I'm sorry. I believe you."

  "Miss Blok, are you in there?" Romulus knocked sharply. Ignoring Viktor's pleas, he knocked again.

  A gray statue opened the door. Miss Blok was dressed in a dark gown, and she tilted her blank face, looking at them with dull eyes. She spoke vaguely: "Hello."

  "Hi, Miss Blok," Romulus said with a forced smile. "We're here for ... tea. Yes, we were to have tea, remember?"

  "Our tea party," Miss Blok said slowly. "How could I have forgotten? Of course, come in, dears. Don't forget to wipe your shoes on the doormat over there."

  They walked inside and shut the door. Viktor looked skeptically at the tray of mud in front of the fireplace, but he kept his mouth shut and copied Romulus' movements, weaving through heaps of junk so that they could wipe his shoes in the dirt. On the other side of the room, Miss Blok began scattering tea leaves into dirtied bowls, one of which shattered against the floor.

  "I'd better go help her," muttered Romulus.

  Viktor was uneasy. He stood frozen until Miss Blok shuffled his way.

  "Do you like your bread toasted, dear?"

  "Um ... sure," Viktor said.

  Miss Blok beamed and tossed a bread roll into the fireplace. "It'll only be a minute now. Please be seated."

  Viktor looked around for a chair. Had she burned those, too? To appease her, he sat down cross-legged on the floor. Then Romulus came over with a tray of tea, bread, and jam, and joined Viktor on the floor.

  Miss Blok smiled at Romulus as she sat on a mound of torn pillows. "Who are you again?"

  He flushed. "I deliver your food. Remember? Now my friend wanted to ask you something, Miss Blok. Go on, Viktor."

  Viktor flushed. "Uh, right ... I, uh ..."

  "You look familiar," she interrupted.

  "Well, I sort of live next door."

  "To whom?"

  Viktor scratched his head. "Anyway ... I wanted to ask, do you know ... or did you know ... serfs named Maksim and Adelaida?"

  Miss Blok's foggy eyes studied Viktor. Deep in their depths, they seemed to become clearer, shedding the cobwebs that came with decades of wear. "Maksim and Adelaida ... yes."

  "You mean you knew them?" Romulus breathed, nearly leaping to his feet. Viktor grabbed his shoulder, forcing his friend down. Romulus apparently hadn't expected a breakthrough, but Viktor had a feeling that the old lady's recollections might come crashing to a halt if her thoughts were disturbed.

  "Adelaida," she said to herself, "yes, she was the daughter of an old woman in this town. An old, long-lost woman who died years ago ..."

  At this, Viktor frowned. Adelaida was supposed to be Miss Blok's own daughter, not someone else's. "Do you remember the name of this wom—"

  It was Romulus' turn to grab Viktor. Out of the corner of his mouth, he murmured, "She's talking about herself—she just doesn't realize it. Drop it, or you'll confuse her."

  Miss Blok examined Viktor, who took a sip of acrid tea to give his hands something to do. "You look like her. You're Adelaida's son, aren't you?"

  Romulus nodded for him to take the part, mouthing, "She thinks you're me."

  "Y-Yes, I-I am," Viktor managed.

  Miss Blok sniffled. "I know it was tragic, dear. She never deserved to die ... got mixed up in the wrong crowd, that's all ... Maksim with his playing cards ... he put too much faith in their secret ..."

  "Miss Blok, can you tell us about Silent Deal?"

  "Oh ... that? No, I'm not allowed to," she said dreamily. "The secret of the cards must be kept ... a secret."

  "Do you know where the original document is kept?" Viktor pressed.

  "The original? I don't know ... But we all keep it ... keep it a secret."

  "A secret from who?" Viktor begged.

  The old lady looked up. "From you."

  Viktor's skin crawled. What was the town hiding?

  Romulus cut in with his personal agenda and hoarse voice: "Is that why Adelaida died—because Maksim discovered the secret of the cards?"

  Miss Blok's attention shattered. Mist drifted back over her eyes and she tilted her head. "Who are you again?"

  The blood brothers were devastated. They had come so close to the truth only to lose Miss Blok now!

  "What are you doing in my house?" she murmured.

  Romulus was frozen in disbelief, so Viktor fished into his friend's pocket, ripping out the king of spades and shoving it at Miss Blok's nose. "Remember, Miss Blok? Adelaida married Maksim! Maksim had this playing card, the king of spades, remember! Oh, can't you remember?"

  Miss Blok was locked in an inner struggle against her foggy thoughts; the card seemed to jar her memory. "King of spades ... Yes, that's right ... Maksim was in deep with the cards ... gambling everything—even his family. Poor Adelaida fled to the forest to give birth ... found her body in a river ... her infant abandoned in the woods."

  Chill ran down Viktor's spine. If Romulus was abandoned in the forest, then who rescued him?

  "But did Maksim love them—his wife and son?" gasped Romulus.

  Miss Blok's wrinkled face smiled. "Oh ... yes, he loved them. I attended their wedding ... under a lonely tree, in a lonely meadow, where they played as children, where they argued as youths, where they fell in love forever and carved their names in each other's heart. But not so long after, Maksim was burying his gambling friend Feliks, the first victim of the bet. Yet ... Maksim's fate was worse ... tortured slowly to death in the castle—all for the cards!"

  Viktor could see that Romulus' heart broke at that comment. Romulus covered his face in anguish, his hardened exterior finally cracked, his defenses lowered. To Viktor, every second trickled by like an hour. He studied anything to distract his mind from the grief: The tea tray, the teacups, the bread, the jam, and the knife—whose handle was being strangled by old, warped fingers.

  Viktor looked up and felt another horrific chill. Miss Blok had taken on an entirely different persona. The shadow had slid back over her face, her lips were pursed in a tight line, and her hand was shaking murderously, clenching the blade.

  "How did you get in my house?" she hissed.

  Romulus stiffened.

  "You let us in, Miss Blok," said Viktor in a trembling voice. "Remember?"

  "There are two of you. There wasn't before."

  "We came here together. You let us both in, remember?" Viktor pleaded.

  Miss Blok gazed at them with clouded eyes. She nodded and relaxed her arm. "Of course, dears, forgive me ..." she murmured, turning her head away.

  Viktor exhaled with relief and was about to turn to Romulus, but then he saw the old woman's eyes flash, and in that split second, he knew her understanding was a facade. He knew they had lost her.

  The knife came with surprising speed.

  If Viktor hadn't been ready, his throat would have been slit open, sitting cross-legged as he was, but his moment's notice allowed him to lurch backward with a yelp, the blade narrowly missing his neck. Romulus shook himself out of his mourning and made a snatch at Miss Blok's knife hand, but she swung the weapon again. He yanked his arm away, like a hand off a hot stove.

  Her hazy stare snapped over to Viktor, who was crawling through debris like a crab over shells. The frail woman pounced at him, stabbing straight at his chest. With a slap, he redirected her arm, and the knife buried itself into a dirtied pillow. She collapsed on top of him.

  "Don't hurt her!" Romulus cried.

  It was all Viktor could do not to pummel her in the ribs or break her neck with an elbow—she was trying to kill him! He scrambled out from under her, trying not to put pressure on her brit
tle bones. Romulus heaved Viktor to his feet, yanking him toward the exit. Romulus took one last glance at his grandmother: Miss Blok screamed and cocked back her arm, still clenching the blade. Romulus slammed the door shut, just in time for the thrown knife to bury itself in the wood with a dull thud.

  "I'm sorry, Romulus. I'm so sorry," Viktor panted as they skirted past lanes of houses.

  "Don't be. Somehow you sparked her memory. Now I know for sure what happened to my parents ... and I know my father knew the Leopard's secret."

  Viktor pulled Romulus to a stop and held out a hand. "I'm sorry I ever doubted you. Can you forgive me? Blood brothers?"

  "Blood brothers," Romulus agreed, shaking on it. "Now let's find the Silent Deal before the school year ends, because I'm afraid that once Molotov sees Dimovna's reports, so will the Leopard, and it doesn't take a genius to figure out what we've been up to."

  The blood brothers sat on tree stumps near the edge of the forest. Romulus watched the lunch crowd, while Viktor gazed down at the king of spades card in his hand.

  "Matthew 6:21—'For where your treasure is, there will your heart be also.' I can't image the Leopard wrote down that verse, but if he did, maybe that's how Maksim discovered the secret. He could've stolen the card and used the clue. The treasure has to be the Silent Deal," said Viktor.

  Romulus grunted. In the past few days, they'd talked all these scenarios into the ground. Plus he was still seething over the insults Miss Dimovna had hurled at him that morning.

  "But the second half of the verse doesn't make sense," continued Viktor. "Shouldn't this be a king of hearts, not a king of spades? A spade is a heart, sort of. It's just flipped upside down. Maybe that's part of the riddle! For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also, and there your spade will be flipped ..."

  "Look who went to Mother's Kissing Tree," said Romulus.

  Viktor's attention easily switched to the giant oak tree some twenty meters away. Two figures holding hands exited out from beneath the low-hanging branches. The boy was sturdy and stoic, and the girl, slim and sparkling.

  "Really? Ollyver and Narkissa?" asked Viktor. "What does he see in her?"

  Romulus shrugged. "Beauty, probably."

  "But she's so ..."

  "Self-absorbed? Snobbish? Senseless?"

  Viktor chuckled.

  "So how did it work?" Sevastian called, heading across the field at Ollyver.

  Viktor watched Narkissa whip her silky dark hair and look at Ollyver. "How did what work? Ollyver, what did you buy from him?"

  Ollyver mumbled incoherently.

  Narkissa crossed her arms like a sulking child. "Tell me or I'm leaving!"

  Ever the trader, Sevastian spoke up loudly, happy to have a growing audience on the field. "He needed lip balm, of course. And I've got more for sale!"

  Narkissa batted her eyelashes, suddenly pleased at the thought.

  "I take it the necking went well, eh?" Sevastian said boisterously.

  "It's none of your beeswax," huffed Narkissa.

  "Ah, but it is my earwax."

  Ollyver's mouth twitched. "What did you say?"

  "Your ears must not be as clear as mine. I said earwax," stressed Sevastian. "It's the oldest remedy there is for chapped lips!"

  The students listening recoiled. Ollyver's face dropped—he flung himself headfirst into a mound of snow and began scrubbing at his mouth. Narkissa shrieked at the top of her lungs and fled the scene.

  "It's perfectly sanitary!" Sevastian called after her.

  Viktor's brow furrowed as he stared from the trader to Mother's Kissing Tree.

  "I'm going to take a stab here and say those two aren't getting back together," said Romulus.

  Viktor's thoughts were headed in a different direction. "Tell me ... what happens to a meadow after it gets tread on?"

  "Is this a metaphor for stomping Sevastian into the ground?"

  "No, really—what would a meadow turn into?"

  "A field ... I guess."

  "And how old is this school?"

  "A few years old ..."

  Viktor nodded eagerly. "Which means before that, this was a meadow."

  "Are you going anywhere with this?"

  "Last week, at your grandmother's, she said Maksim and Adelaida were married in a meadow."

  "In front of a lonely tree," murmured Romulus, realization dawning on him.

  Viktor nodded. "Where they played as children ..."

  "Where they argued as youths ..."

  "Where they fell in love forever ..."

  "Carving their names in each other's heart!" said Romulus. "It isn't Mother's Kissing Tree at all—it's my parents'! The 'MA' carved in the trunk—it's their initials—'Maksim loves Adelaida'!"

  "'For where your treasure is, there will your heart will be also,'" Viktor quoted. "Romulus, the treasure is hidden in the tree! Whether your father carved a message in the bark or hid something in a hollow, he wanted you to find it."