Chapter XIX
MOTHER'S KISSING TREE
Romulus pushed back his blond tangled hair and stared out at the ancient oak; its colossal branches were so heavy they had drooped to the ground over the years and twisted, forming an umbrella-like covering.
"What if my father hid the Silent Deal there? He could've left it for me. Come on!"
Viktor grabbed Romulus. "Hold it. We can't just start searching around over there. People could see us—including Dimovna. We'd need a reason to go over there."
"You're right. We need an excuse ... an excuse like"—he snapped his fingers—"Evenova and Charlotta!"
"What? No," hissed Viktor. "Charlotta still hates me for what happened with Roksana. And you ditched Evenova, too, on New Year's, remember?"
"Girls tend to like boys much more when they make themselves scarce. It's when you're always around that they get bored."
"This is so stupid."
Romulus' teeth flashed. "Says the boy who got a caramel apple chucked at his head."
Viktor trailed Romulus as they approached Evenova and Charlotta, who were surrounded by other serf girls near the schoolhouse. They all seemed to be sniggering at a joke Evenova had told at the boys' expense, because they kept glancing at the approaching guests.
"Evenova, Charlotta, could we have a word, please?" said Romulus.
Evenova twisted her autumn curls and gave him a fake smile. "Anything you say can be said in front of our friends."
"The thing is, Viktor and I were hoping we could talk to you two alone ... say, by that tree over there."
Viktor avoided eye contact with Charlotta, though he felt her stare burning a hole through him. The rest of the girls had mixed expressions—some of jealousy, some of excitement, and some of irritation, with Evenova the most irritated of all. She gave her friends a look that told them to disperse. Then she pulled Charlotta forward with her and pushed Romulus.
"You—have—some—nerve!" she growled.
"Look, we just need you to walk over there with us—nothing more," Romulus said.
"You can't stand to be shown up, can you?" said Evenova. "You see Ollyver with Narkissa and suddenly you have to top him. Well, I'm not flattered you chose me."
"This isn't about Ollyver," Romulus said.
"Of course not—it's all about you."
"Sort of. See, we're looking for something over there—"
"I bet you are."
"That's not what I—"
"I'll go," Charlotta said.
This took everyone by surprise, none more so than Viktor. Warmth flooded his chest.
Romulus grinned. "Excellent. And you, Evenova?"
"Fine," she sniffed.
"Right, then," mumbled Viktor, suddenly feeling nervous.
To the students watching them, their quartet had the appearance of a very awkward double date. Evenova seemed cautious of the fervent expression Romulus wore as they paced toward Mother's Kissing Tree, while Charlotta, as if to make a statement, was pulling Viktor's hand with a certain degree of force.
Viktor told himself the butterflies in his stomach were related to what was hidden in the tree, yet every glance at Charlotta caused that secret object to slide further from his thoughts, and as he glided under the oak's giant branches, those thoughts slipped away entirely.
It was a different world under the Kissing Tree, and Viktor understood at once why Maksim and Adelaida had fallen in love here. It was a brilliant, tranquil realm, and the never-falling oak leaves offered a sphere of protection against the white winter. Surrounded by green life and dark soil and Charlotta's blonde hair and fair skin, Viktor thought for a moment that he might never leave this place.
But then Romulus spoke, shattering the dreamlike state. "Give me a leg up on this thing."
Charlotta dropped Viktor's hand. Evenova backed away. Viktor offered the girls a guilty glance and went to boost Romulus up the trunk.
"What are you two playing at?" said Evenova, crossing her arms.
"We told you we're trying to find something," Romulus grunted as he climbed higher out of sight.
Charlotta frowned. "I can't believe you, Viktor. You sat back and watched as we made complete fools of ourselves. I thought you liked me."
"I do. I just—My intentions were pure."
Charlotta rolled her eyes and looked bored. "Coward."
"Don't be childish," Viktor said as heat rushed into his cheeks.
"Childish," cut in Evenova. "What do you call stringing girls along and going on stupid searches and climbing trees like a complete idiot?"
"I heard that," Romulus called from somewhere high in the branches. "Viktor, I'm not seeing anything up here, no carvings, no hollows, not even a bird nest"—a loud crunch sounded and Romulus growled in disgust—"which is surprising, because owls have definitely been spitting up pellets in here."
Evenova put her hands on her hips, a stance that reminded Viktor of his mother. "Get down from the tree right now, Romulus ... Romulus ..."
"Maksimov," Viktor filled in.
"Romulus Maksimov!"
His disembodied voice answered. "Just a minute, dear. They'll be plenty of time left for necking."
"You make me ill," she retorted. "I'd rather kiss an owl pellet!"
"That can be arranged."
I wish I were in the tree, thought Viktor as he shifted awkwardly. "See the 'MA' in the carved heart," he said to fill the silence. "It's from Romulus' parents—Maksim and Adelaida. They hid something here for him."
"Well, you're looking in the wrong place," muttered Charlotta.
"What?" Viktor said.
"You're so clever. I'm sure you can figure out where the clue points to."
Viktor sighed. Can nothing be simple?
"Alright, I've secured the owl pellet, Evenova," said Romulus, jumping between branches. "Do you still want to neck with it?"
Both of the girls froze fearfully. Viktor turned but was struck in the head. He landed hard on roots and gazed up to see the green realm disturbed by Miss Dimovna in black.
"I'll take your silence as a yes," Romulus said as he dropped to a lower branch—but never saw the meter stick coming. It caught him in the neck, and he fell through the air, crashing sideways on the ground.
"How dare you bring these girls here," Miss Dimovna snarled. "And they're tramps for agreeing to go along. To the schoolhouse—all of you. If you want to act like animals, you'll be punished like them, too."
The blood brothers didn't argue, because they couldn't let Dimovna know the real reason they were at Kissing Tree. The girls, too, realized this, so they remained quiet as they trekked back to schoolhouse.
All his classmates were already inside as Viktor took a seat at the back of the class. Boris and Fredek turned in their chairs and smirked, sending a surge of anger through him. Of course they were the ones who ran and told Dimovna, he thought. Yet a larger problem confronted Viktor: The girls didn't have knuckle guards, and he couldn't watch them be punished.
Romulus seemed to be thinking along the same lines, because deep lines of worry were written on his face. Miss Dimovna pulled him into the classroom by the ear and shoved him into the seat; his eyes were far away as he went through the motions, placing his hands on the desk.
Miss Dimovna smoothed her pallid hair into place. "Finally—you look worried. And you should be, considering your uncivilized behavior. How do your parents live knowing they're raised such a savage?"
"They're dead."
"How convenient. That explains it, then—they couldn't live with the guilt. Do you ever wonder where you're headed? The gallows seem the natural course."
Romulus glowered. "No, I'll be at the Den at the time the Chinese flowers bloom."
Alright, he wants me to meet him at midnight, Viktor thought. But why did he say that at all? That implies he's not sticking around ...
"Chinese flowers? Ha! Perhaps, you'll forgo the noose for a lunatic asylum." Miss Dimovna raised her meter stick and added her last insult
: "Either way, it's like father, like son. I'm sure you'll abandon a bastard son of your own one day."
Romulus' skin turned to cold marble, his eyes to fire. No comment of their teacher had broken through his mental barriers, save for this. Viktor knew his friend was about to snap.
Snap, Romulus did. As Miss Dimovna's rapier swung at his knuckles, he flipped his hands over, caught it, wrenched it from her grasp, and snapped the thick wood over his knee.
"What—What are you ..." Miss Dimovna trailed off as Romulus pointed a splintered end of the stick at her throat. She gulped and looked to the students for help, but none came to her aid, not even the Spektor brothers, who sneered at her helplessness.
"If you ever speak ill of my parents again, I'll gut you," Romulus said, his outstretched arm perfectly still. "I've put up with your evil for too long, but I won't anymore. I'm not coming back. And you will not tell anyone I've left."
"So what are you waiting for?" whispered Miss Dimovna, her lips curling wickedly. "Do you think I want you here? No. Do you see anyone holding you back? No. And after you've gone, do you think anyone will ever miss you?"
Romulus lingered on the question. Doubt flickered on his face. As if a battle was raging inside him, his arm trembled, and then he pulled the meter stick away from her.
Miss Dimovna nodded pitifully. "Yes, that's the conclusion I also came—"
"I'd miss him!" Viktor blurted out the words without thinking. The attention of the class swung his way. Behind Miss Dimovna's glare, a smile broke through Romulus' anguished face.
"I would miss him, too," cried out Evenova.
Viktor could see Romulus' chest swell.
Charlotta nodded. "So would I."
"I would too," Ollyver said.
"I might," said Mikhail hesitantly. "Having a vampyre for a friend can be dead useful in certain situations."
Romulus chuckled while Miss Dimovna's head swung around on a swivel as more and more youths added their opinions.
"Well, I wouldn't miss him!" roared Boris over the noise. "He's a cur! Haven't you seen what his wolf did to my back?"
Miss Dimovna's face dropped. "He has a wolf?"
"Wolf-be-gone powder doesn't sell itself," said Sevastian. "Neither did those garlic necklaces, bless Romulus' cold heart!"
"Well, I like his hair," said Sophia.
Narkissa rolled her eyes. "If only he washed it."
"I once fainted when he touched my shoulder!" said Uri excitedly.
"SILENCE!" Miss Dimovna screamed. "Leave, boy! Now! Squander your last months of freedom, because at the term's end, your friends will meet hard labor and you will meet Master Molotov's wrath. And then—nobody will ever remember you."
"Oh, they'll remember me," Romulus said.
And just like that, he turned his back on Aryk's authority.
"Viktor, go to your room."
He had scarcely set foot in the door as his mother waved him away. Her face was red and puffy. It was unusual for her to be home in the afternoon, and equally unusual for other women to be scuttling around the house.
"Who are they? What are they doing here?" Viktor asked, his thoughts flying down terrible paths.
"Viktor, dear, they're healers," whispered his mother. "Your father—he's not well. In—In the mines—he got into some trouble."
His parents' door swung open. "Starsha, we need you in here," said a woman.
"Go to your room, Viktor," his mother demanded.
"What did they do to him?" Viktor shouted. He dashed past his mother, who failed to stop him, and barreled past the other women to burst through the door.
The sight made his stomach drop. His father lay facedown and shirtless on the bed, as if he were in a stupor. Yet this was no mine accident—it was assault. His father's back was raw, streaked with gashes that oozed blood. Viktor quaked. He'd once seen a knout—the heavy rawhide whip that mine supervisors carried—but he'd never imagined the damage it could cause. The image was so heartrending he had to look away as a woman poured vodka on a washcloth and pressed it to the wounds.
His mother hugged him from behind. "Go to your room. Grandpap's there."
Viktor's mind couldn't comprehend the order, but his feet obeyed. He found his small bed and sat on it, staring across the room at Grandpap, who was doing the same.
"Grandpap, I've done something bad," Viktor murmured.
"Trouble never comes alone. Well, out with it."
"It's—It's my fault for what happened."
"Why—for having a father who's brave?" The old man shook his balding head. "No, your father took this upon himself. He stood up for his fellow miners ... and paid the price."
Viktor straightened up. It's ... not ... my fault? he thought. So the Leopard hasn't yet discovered my part with the king of spades ...
"You don't know this," said Grandpap, "because your parents don't want to you to fret, but work in the mines and factories has become very dangerous. Men and women are watched, searched, persecuted. In the past few months, Molotov has been tightening his grip on us serfs."
"Why?"
"Many think it's because the first law has been broken. But the answer goes far deeper than illegal playing cards—it's fear."
"Fear? Of what?"
"Fear that history might repeat itself—aye, that's where the dog is buried."
For a long time, Viktor pondered this, until he finally worked up the courage to voice the question he feared above all: "Will he be alright?"
Grandpap's weary eyes flicked to his own phantom limb. "Oh yes, my boy. Men have survived far worse."
Viktor lay down on his bed and stared at the cracks in the wood of the ceiling, waiting for the dull hours of the night when all slept, waiting for retribution.
"That's awful ... I'm sorry." Romulus had just listened to Viktor reiterate the trials of the afternoon. Now it was near midnight, but the Den's fireplace fought off the cold and the darkness. "What do you suppose your grandfather meant by history repeating itself?"
Viktor shrugged. "He was probably talking about another age of unrest—like the one Zindelo spoke of. By the way, are you really not coming back to school?"
"Never."
"You're going to leave me to deal with that witch by myself? In that cauldron of a classroom?"
"I snapped the meter stick for you, didn't I?" Romulus said. "Besides, you heard Dimovna—the clock's ticking. If we don't find the Silent Deal tonight, I'll have to start spending all my time searching for it. But I'm almost positive it won't come to that."
Viktor squinted. "So you actually did find something in the tree?"
"Eh, not quite, but I know where the treasure is. You were right: 'For where your treasure is, there will your heart be also'—and there your spade will be flipped." Romulus retreated into the corner of the Den and returned with two shovels. "It's hidden at the tree, but we were just looking in the wrong direction. Maksim wouldn't leave the most important document of his life exposed to the elements."
Viktor took a spade, holding it out with both hands as if examining an ancient sword. "That's why Charlotta told me to figure out where the clue points to," he said softly. "The heart points to the ground. We've got to dig."
"And dig we shall. You too, Blizzard."