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Dariya looked happy, but tired as well. Even Maman appeared to have had a good time. I was the only person who seemed glad the birthday ball was over.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Anya’s frantic voice woke me the next morning. “Duchess! The tsar’s men are here! They are asking for you!” I sat up in bed slowly, my head thick and my eyes bleary. “What time is it?”
“After ten, Duchess. You must hurry and get dressed. Your mother is waiting for you in the parlor.” I climbed out of bed and started to open my armoire, but Anya shook her head. “There is no time for that! Here!” she said, holding up one of my pretty but faded blue dresses from the previous summer. I struggled into my underthings as she threw the dress over my head. It smelled as if it had been freshly laundered. Anya briskly spun me around and buttoned up the front before I was completely awake. “Is there tea?” I asked, trying not to yawn in my maid’s face.
“You have no time for tea,” she said, grimacing as she brought me my stockings and boots. She tapped her foot impatiently while I buttoned up my shoes. But she still insisted on twisting my hair up into a presentable knot before allowing me to go downstairs. She fussed with the curls until she was satisfied, and then shooed me out the door.
The men in Maman’s parlor were not just any of the tsar’s men. It was George Alexandrovich. And the strange man from the caves was with him. Mon Dieu, how did they know each other?
I curtsied politely to the grand duke, thanking Anya silently for insisting that I wear the blue dress. It matched the grand duke’s eyes. “Your Imperial Highness, we missed you at the ball yesterday evening.”
“Forgive me, Duchess.” Both he and the strange Frenchman were frowning. “It was not my intention to miss my mother’s dance. We had business to attend to for the tsar.”
I could tell Maman was upset. She was sitting in her favorite chair, twisting her handkerchief into pieces. “Katiya, please listen to the grand duke. He says you would be in great danger if you went to Zurich. The tsar has decided not to let you go.”
“What?” I turned on George. “What have you done? What did you tell the tsar?”
The stranger spoke up as I heard Maman gasp at my impudence. “I believe you know why you cannot leave the country unprotected right now, Duchess. It would be beyond foolish for you to think you are safe on your own.”
“Who are you?” I asked, too mad to ask any other questions.
The Frenchman bowed his head slightly. “Forgive me. I am called Papus. I am … a student from Paris.”
I did not need George’s faerie sight to understand. I realized this man must be one of the sorcerers sent to accompany George back to Paris. “What were you doing in the cave last week?” I asked him.
He looked the slightest bit uncomfortable. “As I have already told the grand duke, I was searching for an ancient manuscript that was rumored to be buried in the caves.”
I lowered my voice, so Maman could not hear. “And what were you doing in that other place?”
He drew in his breath sharply but did not answer.
“Where I saw Konstantin. In the cold-light realm.”
George folded his arms, the space between his eyebrows crinkling unhappily. He ignored me and looked at my mother. “Duchess, would you be so kind as to get some tea for your daughter? She looks as if she could use something hot to drink.”
Maman stood up quickly. “Of course, Your Imperial Highness. Katiya, I’ll be right back, darling.” Normally my mother would ring for a servant to bring tea, but something in the fae grand duke’s request made Maman suddenly eager to leave the room.
He waited until she was gone before speaking again. “It does not matter what purpose Papus had, but you had absolutely no reason to be there with no one knowing where you’d gone.”
“But I don’t know how I got there. I touched the throne, and the next thing I knew I was someplace strange, and then I saw swirls of cold light flying all around the lich tsar’s head.”
“And Papus said you trapped yourself in the Graylands.” George looked angry. At me.
“I am sure I would have found my way out of these Graylands eventually.” I was thankful, at least, to finally learn the name of the frightening place. “We should warn the tsar.”
George was growing angrier by the minute. He seemed to be struggling with his self-control. “My father already knows. But you,” he said softly. “You are too reckless to look after yourself. The tsar cannot risk losing his only necromancer.” He took a deep breath and drew himself up regally. “Katerina Alexandrovna, you are hereby ordered to return to the Smolny Institute for the coming school term.”
I could not believe it. He knew how much going to Zurich meant to me. “No! You must be teasing me!”
The scowl on his face told me he was not teasing.
“You cannot do this!” I forced back angry tears, refusing to accept this quietly. I would write to Papa immediately.
Reading my thoughts, the grand duke shook his head. “Your father has already been informed of this by the tsar himself. There is nothing you can do, Katiya. You know your parents would feel safer with you in St. Petersburg anyway.”
I glared at George. “Your Imperial Highness, I beg you to rethink your decision. I will not be exploring any more caves this summer or at any time after that. There is truly no need—”
“Katiya, it is the tsar’s decision. Not mine. The Smolny Institute will be protected by one of my mother’s spells. A spell that will also prevent the veshtiza from harming the students. It is the safest place for you.”
Papus nodded. “I am confident you will be safe under the empress’s protection, Duchess. You need not worry.”
I wanted to scream. I did not want to go back to Smolny. Not now, when all my childhood hopes and dreams of being a doctor were within my grasp. But I could not throw a temper tantrum. I took a deep breath and attempted to calm down. Papa would understand me. I knew he would be able to talk to the tsar. At least he would try. “The only reason I stumbled across Konstantin Pavlovich was because I read the words inscribed upon the old throne,” I told them.
“What throne?” Papus asked suspiciously.
“What do you mean, what throne? How did you get to the Graylands?”
Papus and the tsar’s son frowned at each other before the grand duke sighed. “She should know,” he said. “She serves the tsar just as we do.”
Papus nodded. “As magicians, we can call upon higher powers to help us travel between dimensions,” the Frenchman said. “Are you sure you saw a throne?”
“Of course I saw a throne. I touched the throne. I read the Greek words: ‘The path to the light travels straight to the darkness.’ ”
Papus said nothing, but he and George shared a grim look.
I rubbed my pounding temples and looked back up at the French wizard. “Wait a minute. You’re talking about demons. Mon Dieu, that’s who you called upon to assist you.”
Papus’s face drew up into a sneer. “Demons? Mais non, Mademoiselle.”
“Katerina Alexandrovna, listen to me,” George said, grabbing me by the shoulders gently. “They’re not demons. I would never call upon a demon.” He looked me in the eye and lowered his voice. “Do you trust me?”
“Your Imperial Highness—”
His voice was low and calming. “Katiya.” Was he casting a glamour on me? The whole world could fall away and I would be safe as long as I was looking into his eyes. “Do you trust me?” he repeated.
The blue in his eyes deepened, and almost glowed. Finally, I nodded.
Papus was sitting on the arm of Maman’s favorite chair. “Duchess, could you describe the throne that you saw?”
“You honestly did not see it?”
He shook his head.
I sighed. “It was old, with faded and chipped paint. But dazzling. And it had the Maltese cross embroidered on the back, with two angels on either side of the cross. It must have been breathtaking to see in its day.” Not to mention the
ruler who had sat upon the throne. I hesitated, not wanting to admit that I’d heard voices there, but finally I added, “The lich tsar mentioned Byzantium.”
“Of course,” George said, nodding thoughtfully. “Katerina the Great was Konstantin Pavlovich’s grandmother, and he was her favorite grandson. She had him named Konstantin with the hope that Russia would reclaim this area from the Turks and her grandson would rule the reclaimed Orthodox kingdom.”
“What about the throne I saw?”
“I don’t know what to tell you,” Papus said. “It could have been the throne of the Byzantine emperor, but why would it be here?”
George frowned. “My father just recently bought the Massandra property from the Vorontsov family. It belonged to a Polish count before then.”
George and I looked at each other. “Johanna,” we said at the same time. The vampire princess who had turned Konstantin into a lich had belonged to well-known Bessarabian nobility, but had been previously married to a Polish count.
Papus shook his head. “It could have been her family’s property. She probably kept the throne hidden in the caves all these years, believing no one would find it. And it must have been disguised with some sort of magic, since I couldn’t see it.” He looked at me thoughtfully. “Perhaps you could because you are a necromancer. You can walk easily between this world and the next.”
“But I couldn’t return on my own,” I said. “I don’t know if I would have discovered a way to escape eventually or not. How did you get me out of that place? You say you use magical guardians, but I saw no one else there other than you and Konstantin Pavlovich.”
“It’s … complicated,” Papus murmured. “A secret knowledge we are bound under oath not to reveal to the uninitiated.”
“But the throne …,” George mused. “If the Grigori are involved …”
“Let us hope for the tsar’s sake that they are not,” Papus said.
I had no idea who the Grigori were, but I was still fuming at the idea of returning to Smolny. And Elena. Mon Dieu. It took all of the good breeding and proper manners that I possessed not to stomp my feet in anger. Merde. “What makes you believe that the empress’s protective spell over Smolny will keep me safe from Konstantin? We don’t even know how I stumbled across him in the caves.”
George shook his head. “Do not worry. My mother’s spell is more than just a faerie glamour. It casts a protective shield over the entire institute. Nothing supernatural can get in. Or out. Once you are back at Smolny, you will not be able to leave.”
This made me like the idea even less. “I’ll be trapped! I cannot believe you would do this to me.”
George sighed. “Katiya, I want to know that you are safe. Why must you be so stubborn?”
“You don’t know that it will help at all, and what if the lich tsar gets in and I can’t get out?”
Papus stood up. “I am certain you will be safe, Duchess. And the members of the Order will be on guard outside of the institute. The Order of St. Lazarus.”
My eyebrows rose at that, and I repressed a shudder. Several members of the Order of St. John of Jerusalem, the elite imperial guard, had been turned into the walking dead by Princess Johanna. She’d been building an army of undead soldiers for Konstantin. Thanks to me, the unfortunate creatures were now sworn to protect Tsar Alexander as the Order of St. Lazarus. “The tsar is aware of this?”
“The tsar is the one who commands it.” George took my hand. “And he will command you to report to Smolny, if you do not go willingly.”
I stared at him angrily, trying very hard not to let the tears leak out. I jerked my hand out of his and turned toward the window.
“To the devil with this!” George muttered with an exasperated sigh. He stomped out of the parlor. The door slammed, rattling Maman’s china figures on the curio shelf.
“Duchess?” Papus said softly. “It is not difficult to see that he cares for you a very great deal.”
“He is being unreasonable. I cannot hide behind the empress’s magic spells. And why isn’t everyone more concerned with protecting the tsar? He is Konstantin’s main enemy. Not I.”
“The Order is protecting the tsar as well. The empress cannot, unfortunately, cast a protective spell around the tsar. But—”
“And why not?” I interrupted. “Why won’t her spells work on him?”
“She is forbidden by the church to cast any spell over the sovereign. But he is well protected nevertheless.”
At that moment, Maman came hurrying in with Anya, behind her, carrying a tea tray. “Katiya? We heard loud noises! Is everything all right? Where is the grand duke?”
I had no idea where George had gone. Surely he wouldn’t leave the French sorcerer here alone. I looked out the window into the street. George was standing next to the imperial carriage. He still looked angry.
“Perhaps I should go down to him,” I said, hesitating. I was afraid this would be the last time I would see him before he left for Paris.
I could have sworn Papus winked at me as he nodded slightly. “I am going to sit here and drink my tea, if you do not mind.” He settled himself in the stuffed chair and smiled at Anya and my mother.
I flew down the staircase and out the door before my mother could protest.
The grand duke turned around as I approached him. His glare softened. “I was expecting Papus to follow me,” he said.
I shook my head. “He is taking tea with Maman. I wanted to apologize to you. I should never have made you angry.”
“Don’t you understand how much I wish I could stay here and protect you myself?”
I sighed. I wished he would hold me, but there was no way we could touch, not here in front of my family’s dacha. The unhappy look in his eyes told me he’d read my mind and felt the same way. “Will you leave soon?” I asked.
“Tonight.” His smile was sad. “Please let me leave with some peace of mind, knowing you will soon be safe at Smolny?”
There was no way I could avoid it, so I finally nodded, blinking back tears. “The tsar’s men will not have to drag me kicking and screaming. I will go quietly.”
His sigh was heavy with relief. “Thank you. The imperial guard will be posted around your mother’s dacha until you return to St. Petersburg.”
Papus joined us just then. “So sorry to keep you waiting, Your Imperial Highness. Shall we go? It was an honor to formally meet you, Duchess.”
George took my hand and bowed over it. I felt his lips touch the back of my hand just barely. “At your service, Duchess.”
“And I am at yours, Your Imperial Highness,” I said. “Please take care of yourself.”
“Always.” With a grim smile he turned and climbed into the imperial carriage after Papus. I stood there and watched the carriage pull off toward the winding mountain road that would take them to the harbor in Yalta. A ship would take them to Varna, on the Bulgarian coast, and from there they would travel by train to Paris. The journey would last the better part of a week.
And I would be returning to St. Petersburg with Maman within the next few days. By the time the grand duke reached Paris, I would be back at the Smolny Institute for Young Noble Maidens.
CHAPTER NINE
The following morning, we left the family dacha and returned to Sevastopol, where the train waited for our long journey back to St. Petersburg. Our private railcar was comfortable, and the trip would have been pleasant if not for Aunt Zina’s nervous dog. The tiny bichon frise shed almost all of its hair and vomited every half hour from nervousness.
Dariya had already abandoned me and was traveling back to St. Petersburg with Miechen’s entourage. Maman was kind enough to let me sit by the window, and I stared out at the vast fields as we raced north through the Crimea. The mountains stretched out before us, the rich farmlands disappearing into the distance.
When night fell and the view outside the window darkened, everyone climbed into their sleeping berths. The swaying of the train lulled me to sleep and I dreamed I
was back at the Livadia Ball. I dreamed that I was searching the ballroom for George Alexandrovich. I wandered in and out between hundreds of dancing couples as the orchestra played a polonaise from the opera A Life for the Tsar. But I could not find George anywhere.
A man grabbed my arm, digging his fingers painfully into my skin. I turned around but the man was wearing a black mask. He was much taller than George, but nowhere near as tall as the tsar.
“Who are you?” I asked.
The man smiled; his white teeth were dazzling and sharp. “Your life will be in less danger if you do not know, Duchess. You have been poking around where you should not be.”
The man had a French accent, but did not look like the wizard Papus. He was much taller and his movements were far too graceful and quick. Almost unnatural. Before I realized what he was doing, he had swept me up into the crowd and we were dancing the polonaise. “The Koldun is keeping his eye on you,” he said. “He believes you are a danger to the tsar.”
I was confused. The Koldun was the tsar’s own wizard. George was in training to replace the existing one. Who that was, I did not know.
I raised my chin and stared into his black eyes. “I can assure you, and you can assure your Koldun, I will give my life to protect the tsar.”
He chuckled. “That would be a terrible waste, ma petite.”
A sudden chill gripped my heart. “What do you mean?”
The masked man did not answer but instead spun me away from him as the music swelled. I found myself unable to stop spinning. The ballroom turned into a huge blur.
I woke up with a gasp. The train was rocking gently as it raced through the dark Crimean night. My mother was asleep in the berth next to me. At some point she had covered me with a thin blanket, but I was shivering. I could still hear the masked man’s laughter in my ears.
Maman shifted and moaned softly in her sleep. The train berths were small and cramped, but our car was much more comfortable than others. I had no right to complain. Taking my blanket and wrapping it around my shoulders, I climbed out of my berth and stood at the window. The sky was beginning to lighten, and by sunrise, we would be passing through Kharkov. I dressed quietly and slipped out of our compartment and headed to the dining car. A cup of hot tea would clear my head.