The Morning Star kt-3

by Robin Bridges

  “I have no desire to know what the cards say,” I said.

  “Oh, don’t be silly,” Maman said, pulling me toward the settee with her. “It’s all great fun. And the cards are simply beautiful. Look at the artwork on the major arcana!”

  I was not going to be allowed to escape the blood drinker’s parlor game. I sat down next to Maman, folding my hands in my lap.

  “Shall we begin?” Militza asked, shuffling her cards with the grace of an expert.

  “I shall go first!” my mother said, leaning forward eagerly. Her jeweled fingers selected one of the cards from the deck in the grand duchess’s outstretched hand. Turning it over, she turned toward me. “I dare not look.”

  “Maman, you know that Papa detests it when you dabble in the occult,” I warned.

  “But it’s so very amusing,” my mother said. “And your father knows it’s harmless. Did the cards not save Petya from buying that lame horse last month? The cards do not lie.”

  “Indeed not,” Militza said with a vicious smile. “You have selected the Empress card.”

  Maman’s mouth gaped open most impolitely. “Her Imperial Majesty is coming to see me?”

  I rolled my eyes, which was not a polite thing to do either. “You are going to see her at the charity luncheon tomorrow,” I reminded Maman.

  “Perhaps,” Militza said. “Or perhaps the empress will have a request for you.” She shuffled the card back into the deck and handed them to me. “Shuffle these in turn, my dear cousin. The deck needs to feel your energies to give you a proper read.”

  The artwork was indeed beautiful. Hand-painted drawings of swords, cups, wands, and coins with an Eastern influence. Byzantine.

  I shuddered, wondering why Militza had chosen this deck. It reminded me of the cave nestled deep in the Crimea, where I’d learned how to travel to the Graylands. I handed the cards back to her.

  “You must pick one, my dear,” she said.

  Sighing, I turned the top card over and laid it on the table. The Queen of Swords.

  Militza’s eyes lit up. “Secret hostility.”

  “Or not so secret,” I said, my eyes meeting hers.

  She laughed. “My dear Katerina. I am not your enemy. I believe you are in for a long journey.”

  “Mon Dieu,” Maman said, gripping my wrist. “Not Zurich? I had hoped you’d given up that foolish notion.”

  Militza shook her head. “The cards do not say. But the Queen of Swords is leading your Katerina to a faraway land.”

  I patted my mother’s hand and said quietly, “The tsar will not allow me to go to Zurich, Maman. Or anywhere else, for that matter.” She had nothing to worry about.

  “Perhaps not Zurich, my cousin,” the grand duchess said, shuffling her deck once again. “But you will soon be traveling far from home. After all,” she added with a wicked smile, “the cards do not lie.”

  3

  “Honestly, Katiya, why must you be so hostile to your cousin?” Maman fussed after Militza left.

  “And why can you not see she’s dangerous?” I countered. “She fears you and she is jealous of your power as the striga.”

  “That’s ridiculous,” Maman said. “I have no intention of interfering with her rule.” She sighed. “Despite what the Dark and Light Court queens want.”

  A chill passed over my heart. Never in my life had my mother mentioned the faerie courts. Had she always known about St. Petersburg’s supernatural underworld? How much had she learned since becoming one of their own?

  “Has the empress asked you to take over the St. Petersburg vampires?” I asked cautiously.

  Maman nodded as if we were talking of the latest opera scandal. “Of course she has. And Miechen has as well. She was positively gleeful when she heard I’d become the heir to the striga. I don’t think the grand duchess likes Militza at all.” She put her own deck of tarot cards back in their wooden box. “Still, it’s nice when they present themselves to me, and since Militza accompanies me everywhere, they’ll soon see there are no feuds between us.”

  “Do you have to meet all of the blood drinkers in the city?” I asked, shuddering.

  “No, but they generally seek me out.”

  I remembered a pale young hussar and his wife who had politely approached Maman at the opera several weeks earlier. How many blood drinkers remained in St. Petersburg? How many of them would remain loyal to Militza?

  “I don’t see any of the upyri, of course,” Maman was saying. “They generally aren’t the fashionable sort.” The upyri were the feral blood drinkers who lived far from the city, in the ancient forests. It was rare to see one of their kind anywhere near St. Petersburg.

  Maman’s calm way of handling her situation made me want to giggle—and beat my head against the wall. She had no notion of how dangerous her position was and how many dangerous creatures in the city now wanted that position. Especially Grand Duchess Militza.

  “Now, the Montenegrins aren’t so bad,” Maman continued, fussing with the flowers in the vase on the table, “as far as blood drinkers go. The crown prince is a perfectly well-mannered gentleman. Oh, I do wish you hadn’t broken off the engagement.”

  “M-Maman!” I sputtered. “He and his sisters kidnapped me! They drugged me and forced me to—” I stopped. I still couldn’t bring myself to tell her what I’d done in Cetinje.

  My heart was pounding and my palms were sweating, partly from being so close to Maman and partly from coming dangerously close to revealing my secrets. It might have devastated her to know the truth years ago. What would she say now if she knew her daughter could raise the dead? Would she condemn me? I didn’t believe she had that right anymore. She’d drunk the blood of monsters. And become one herself.

  And yet I still loved her. She was the same kind and generous, if not slightly frivolous, woman I’d grown up with.

  “What has Miechen said?” I asked, trying to change the subject. “About you? As the striga?”

  Maman sighed. “Oh, she thinks I should make the vampires swear loyalty to her as the head of the Dark Court. Which means I would have to swear my loyalty to her as well.”

  I looked at her in surprise. “What about the empress?”

  Maman shrugged. “Of course, she believes all the blood drinkers should be loyal only to her.”

  “Oh, Maman,” I said. “What will you do?”

  “Ignore all of them. Except Militza. I’ll have to make sure she doesn’t anger the empress or Miechen. Have you seen Sasha? He’s been missing since Militza arrived.”

  I suppressed a sigh. Maman’s undead cat did not like anyone but had a special hatred for blood drinkers. He still seemed to be devoted to my mother, however. Perhaps because he no longer had a cold light for the striga to affect. “He’ll reappear before long,” I assured my mother. “Maman,” I continued tentatively. It was time to have a serious talk with her. The one I’d been dreading since I was little. “Have there been other people in our family who have had … special gifts? Are there any other vampires in our family?”

  “Of course not!” she exclaimed.

  “Dariya told me once that Grandmaman married into the Dark Court. Did Grandfather Max have fae blood, then?”

  “Only a small bit, my dear. His grandmother was Empress Josephine, but I think he got his fae blood from his Bavarian ancestors.”

  I knew that the poor mad king of Bavaria, Ludwig the Second, was Maman’s second cousin. And somehow in the tangled family tree, I was very distantly related to the Bavarian princesses Augusta and Erzsebet. The letters Augusta had written to me told me how excited they were to be in their final years at Smolni. “And there are no other unusual creatures in your family, Maman? No shape-shifters or magicians?”

  Surely I couldn’t be the only necromancer in Russia. My cousin Dariya had hinted that her own mother had had the dark gift, but no one knew much about the poor woman. She had died giving birth to Dariya, and Dariya’s father would not speak of her, so my cousin and I could only speculate.r />
  Maman crossed the room and sat next to me, taking both of my hands in hers. “Dearest Katiya. What you’ve been born with is extremely special. I know you don’t like to speak of it, but I promise you, I’ve known since you were little. And I’ve been extremely proud of you for helping the tsar. You would make your grandmother and great-grandfather exceedingly proud.”

  The heat in the room became suffocating. My head was swimming. “You’ve known?” Tears threatened to leak out. “All these years, you’ve known?”

  She pulled me close to her, the scent of her French perfume nearly overwhelming me. “I knew when you brought Sasha back for me, dearest. I thought it was the sweetest thing. I never told your father what I suspected.”

  “He knows,” I said, choking on a sob. “He’s known that I’m a necromancer since Militza’s wedding last summer at Peterhof.” After a moment I added, “Petya knows as well.”

  Maman pulled back from me in surprise. “Well, then I suppose we have no more secrets in this family, do we?” She smiled. “And if the Dark and Light Court queens ever try to coerce you into their schemes, I promise I won’t let that happen.”

  I wanted to laugh and cry at the same time. How could my mother protect me from the two most powerful faeries in St. Petersburg? They both feared her power, I was sure, but didn’t that make her more vulnerable?

  “There you are, you naughty animal!” Maman exclaimed as she picked up the raggedy cat that had slunk back into the parlor. Sasha hissed at me. He would never forgive me for what I’d done to him. And I couldn’t blame the poor creature.

  I sighed and stood up. I had to complete my anatomy assignment for Dr. Badmaev. Kissing Maman on the cheek, I begged her pardon and escaped from both her and the undead cat.

  Anya was in my bedroom, putting away clothes. “Duchess, did you hear about my brother and his wife? They are expecting their first child soon!”

  “How wonderful for them!” Anya’s brother was one of the doctors at Papa’s hospital and was a leading researcher for the Oldenburg Institute of Experimental Medicine. “Give them my love, Anya.”

  With a smile and a curtsy, she was gone, and I pulled my notebooks out from under my bed. I needed to compare my lung tissue drawings from earlier with illustrations from the medical textbook I’d taken from Papa’s library. A Necromancer’s Companion was under my bed as well. With a shudder, I prayed I would not have to use that book anytime soon.

  4

  The next day I was seated at a small table in a large room at Anichkov Palace, eating a delightful niçoise salad at a charity luncheon with Princess Alix of Hesse and Grand Duchess Xenia Alexandrovna. Princess Alix was growling. It was unnerving to those of us who could hear her. Fortunately, only the grand duchess and I were close enough.

  “Who does she think she is?” Alix asked, stabbing her lettuce with a sterling silver repoussé fork that was probably older than the palace itself. The Sèvres china service had been a present to my great-great-great-grandmother, Katerina the Great, from Marie Antoinette. “She is nothing but a skinny dancer. And a witch.”

  Xenia patted her hand in sympathy. “She has dazzled him with her glamour. It’s nothing more.”

  Alix was upset because upon attending the ballet The Pharaoh’s Daughter with her sister, she had seen the tsarevitch talking with one of the dancers behind stage. Mathilde Kschessinskaya was a beautiful dark faerie who was bewitching all of St. Petersburg with her seductive dancing. Alix had been dismayed to see the way her Nicholas had been completely enchanted. The tsarevitch had not even seemed to notice Alix when she stepped out of her sister’s theater box at the Mariinsky Theater. “The heathen,” Alix growled again.

  I glanced around nervously, hoping none of the empress’s other guests took notice. Most people believed the Hessian princess to be soft-spoken and modest, but I knew she could be quite feral if she believed there was evil or injustice for her to battle. Even though she knew all of my dark secrets and had seen one of my undead creatures, she still counted me as a friend. She had decided that my soul was good. I was terrified of ever disappointing her.

  Xenia shook her head, her dark ringlets swinging as she dug into her pheasant croquette. “Do not fear, Alix. Nicky does not feel anything for Mathilde. She is a pretty diversion, nothing more.”

  “And would you feel the same way if your Sandro was the one making eyes at her?” Alix asked.

  Xenia frowned at both of us. “What can you do? She is protected by the Dark Court, is she not?”

  “Do you truly think Miechen approves of her?” I asked. “Her husband has been seen smiling at her a little too fondly as well.”

  Xenia giggled. “If Uncle Vladimir acts too friendly with the girl, Aunt Miechen will see that poor Mathilde is sent to a ballet troupe in Siberia.”

  Alix looked thoughtful. “Could the grand duchess actually do that?” she asked. “Or the empress?”

  “Mother would not deign to interfere,” Xenia said. “The ballerina is a creature of the Dark Court. She is Aunt Miechen’s responsibility.”

  As I ate my pheasant, which was unfortunately cold and dry, I was secretly glad it was not George who had caught the wicked ballerina’s attention. But what would I do if I had a rival for his affections? Especially if it was someone the empress approved of? Would I have the grace and courage to stand aside and wish him every happiness he deserved? The pheasant stuck in my throat.

  “Are you all right, Katiya?” Xenia asked as I tried to choke quietly behind my napkin. She waved to the liveried servant behind us. “She needs more wine.”

  “Merci,” I said, noticing unhappily that the empress was now looking at our table. She did not look pleased to see her daughter sitting with a necromancer and the wolf princess of Hesse. The servant had refilled my glass and stepped back without making a sound. I took a sip of the wine and tried to push thoughts of George Alexandrovich out of my mind.

  “Have they presented the awards yet?” Alix asked. “I don’t think they are going to serve dessert before the awards are given out.” The luncheon was to honor several aristocratic women who’d given the most time and money to charity during the previous year. My mother had received one of the awards the previous year and had promptly donated it to the Oldenburg Children’s Hospital.

  Xenia glanced up toward the imperial table, where her mother presided. “Not yet, I don’t think. Perhaps we could sneak downstairs to the kitchens?”

  “Aren’t you expected to hand out an award?” I asked.

  “Zut alors,” Xenia said, pouting. “There’s no sense in you two sitting here and suffering through the speeches as well. What if one of you pretends to be ill? Alix, you should probably take Katerina out for some air.” Her faerie eyes twinkled with silver. She suddenly leaned forward with a concerned face and put a hand on my shoulder. “Oh my, you look terrible!”

  I hated to make a scene, but Xenia knew Alix and I were not enjoying the pheasant. Perhaps we would find better food in the kitchens. Alix was already trying to help me stand up. She was eager to escape the empress’s gaze as much as I was.

  “Can you walk, Katerina Alexandrovna?” she asked with a grave face.

  The shocked looks around us led me to worry that Xenia had cast a glamour over my appearance. I was too terrified to glance at the empress’s table. If she saw me, she would certainly see through whatever Xenia had done. “We’ll speak later,” I told Xenia, and grabbed Alix’s arm.

  As we left the enormous white dining hall, we passed an ornate mirror that rose up from the floor to the ceiling. I did look a ghastly shade of pale. No wonder no one had tried to stop us from leaving.

  We reached the grand hallway and paused. Alix looked at me again and shook her head. “You truly look awful. Perhaps you should find some water.”

  “I’m perfectly fine,” I said, waving her concern away. “It’s just Xenia’s glamour. Do you wish to find the kitchens?”

  “I just wanted to leave the banquet,” Alix said, sitting down o
n a plush velvet-upholstered bench. “I should have a few minutes free before Ella realizes I’m missing.”

  “Maman won’t notice that I’m gone,” I said, sitting next to her. “She’s next to your sister.” It continued to amaze me how Maman belonged to the Dark Court but walked that delicate balance to stay friendly with the empress’s court as well. They were family, after all. My mother was a first cousin of the tsar.

  We heard someone coming up the grand staircase. Heavy boots clicked smartly against the marble stairs. Hushed male voices carried up ahead of them. Alix glanced at me worriedly. “Your glamour is gone,” she whispered.

  “What does Papa say?” a familiar but tired voice asked.

  “He wants to speak with you this evening, before he and Mother leave for Denmark.”

  The tsarevitch had reached the top of the staircase with his brother George Alexandrovich. My heart did a little dance. How long had it been since I’d seen my grand duke? Almost a month. The tsarevitch looked surprised to see Alix. And not all together pleased. “Your Highness?” he asked.

  Alix stood immediately and curtsied. “Your Imperial Highness.”

  George smiled when he saw us. But he looked awful. His skin was pale and he had large shadows under his eyes. I stood and curtsied as well.

  Nicholas Alexandrovich offered his arm to Alix. “It has been ages since I’ve seen you. Would you like to step into the red parlor with me and have tea?” His charming smile worked, and Alix was led away before she could refuse.

  George offered his arm to me. “We could join them in the parlor. Or,” he whispered as I linked my arm in his and his left hand covered mine with a tender squeeze, “we could have tea in the library?”

  His touch sent a warm, happy tingle up and down my arm. “I believe Princess Alix has something she wants to discuss with the tsarevitch,” I said. “Perhaps we should give them some privacy?”

  “Excellent idea,” he murmured. The library was not a far walk, and he did not bother to ring for tea. The moment the door closed behind us, George’s hands were around my waist, his lips on mine.