Principality of Vologda.
Higher School of Magic "Kitezh".
The school principal's office.
Over the many years he served as director of Kitezh, Ivan Fyodorovich Orlov had become accustomed to students doing something that would cause him to be harassed by the police. This usually happens to older students; fourth- or fifth-graders. Very rarely, third-graders.
But this time was an exception. He received a call about a prank apparently committed by a first-grader. And the youngest of them all, at that. One who was about to turn thirteen. An investigation had already been conducted early that morning, and some interesting facts had emerged.
The principal knew that the school's second-year students loved to pull pranks on the newcomers, and he was perfectly fine with it. Why not? Such practices are normal for any educational institution with traditions. Kitezh, of all places, has plenty of traditions; it's the oldest of all the Russian Empire's.
Besides, freshmen were also involved in such events, which made them quite fun... Needless to say, he himself was introduced to strong alcohol at just such a ceremony. It was usually fun, to be sure. But not this time.
He'd already spoken with one of the third-year students, Tamara Myshkina. She's one of those girls who always knows everything about everyone. Knowing her exceptional abilities, the upperclassmen try to keep her out of their secrets, but when it comes to both, she's a veritable goldmine of information.
It was from her that Ivan Fyodorovich learned many interesting things about what had happened that night. It had turned out to be a rather intriguing story, it must be said. Only a few details were missing, and so, to clarify them, he invited Temnikov into his office. Temnikov was now sitting in front of him on a chair, his clear blue eyes boredly gazing out the window.
"Maxim, do you want something?"
"For example?"
"Well... For example, tea with candy or cocoa with cookies. What do you like more?"
"I don't want tea or cocoa, but I think I could have some candy. What kind do you have?" the boy asked, looking at the count with interest.
"All sorts. Which ones do you prefer?"
"Bear in the North."
"Oh yeah? Well, well... I like them too..."
Ivan Fyodorovich got up from the table, went to the cupboard, and took out a vase containing a whole mountain of candies, including Temnikov's favorite "Bear in the North" ones.
The boy took a couple of candies, slowly unwrapped one, and popped it into his mouth. Then he did the same with the second one. Looking at him, Orlov couldn't resist gobbling one up, too, but he chose the "Kara-Kum" one, because Maxim had already taken all the "Bears in the North" ones.
Having finished chewing, the boy looked questioningly at the count, and he decided to get down to business.
"Listen, Maxim, I think you can guess why I called you," he began, deciding that now Temnikov himself would tell how it all happened and what part he personally took in it all.
"Nah," the boy sniffled. "I didn't do anything wrong. All I had time for was breakfast and a couple of classes."
The Count looked at him in surprise over his dark glasses and scratched his chin thoughtfully. This guy is a tough cookie... He wouldn't just tell you anything.
"Can I have another candy?" Maxim asked him.
"Of course," Orlov nodded. "Take as many as you want. Just keep in mind; they're bad for your teeth."
"Oh, never mind..." the boy waved his hand and began chewing another candy. "These are still strong. The dentist told me so."
"I thought children didn't like going to the dentist."
"Yeah, I definitely don't like it that way. But what can you do?" Temnikov shrugged. "Well, what if they hurt?"
"That's true... Listen, what did you do last night, Maxim?"
"Mostly slept. Well, and so on... Some other little things..."
"For example?" the count tried to grasp the last words.
"I went to a death ritual with the guys," the boy replied. "It was fun. But it didn't last long. I thought it would last until the morning, but everyone left quickly."
Hearing these words, Ivan Fyodorovich even leaned back in his chair in surprise. He expected to start dragging the boy out word by word, and the boy would start evading, but instead he suddenly went and told everything himself.
What nonsense? The Count looked into Temnikov's clear blue eyes and couldn't comprehend it. Did he really not understand what he had done? Or was he simply mocking him?
Judging by the simple-minded expression on Maxim's face, he didn't want to believe the latter at all. It didn't look like he was stupid enough to try to make fun of him, which meant...
"What's wrong?" he asked, in as indifferent a tone as possible. "Why did you decide to end it so quickly?"
"The boys ran away," the boy shrugged. "They were scared of my skeleton."
"Do you have your own skeleton?"
"Well, not really mine... He wasn't exactly mine. He was just lying there, underground, near the clearing. So I asked him to come out so I could dance with him. So he came out, and the guys ran away... That's how it happened somehow..."
After the boy finished, Orlov chuckled in surprise and shook his head.
"Well, you know, it's never boring with you, Temnikov," he said, taking off his glasses and looking at the boy with eyes of a very unusual copper color. "I feel like I'm going to have my fill of you... Just like that, at twelve years old..."
"Is something wrong, Mr. Director?"
"No, it's just..." Ivan Fyodorovich rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Listen, Maxim, tell me... How did you pull the skeleton out from under the ground?"
"Nothing," the boy shrugged. "I just asked and it came out. It always happens on its own, you know."
"It just happens," Orlov shook his head. "Well, yeah, that's pretty much what I expected... Then tell me, why did you even ask him to come out? Well, the skeleton's lying underground, so let it lie there. What did you need it for?"