by Ann Hood
“What is that?” Maisie asked him.
The man looked at her as if she were either crazy or dumb. “A balalaika,” he said, reminding Maisie of how Great-Uncle Thorne sounded when she and Felix didn’t know something that he thought was completely obvious.
“Where are you all going?” she asked another man with a balalaika.
“To our rooms,” he answered. “Below.”
“You’re going to Finland?” she asked. “An entire orchestra?”
“Just the brass,” he said. “And the balalaikas,” he added, holding up his.
Maisie continued her exploration, having to stop again for what appeared to be the Royal Army, and then again when Olga came rushing up to her.
“We’ve been looking everywhere for you!” Olga said, breathlessly. “You need to meet your sailor.”
“My sailor?” Maisie said as Olga pulled her along.
“We each get one,” Olga said. “They’re divine. Really lovely.”
Maisie glimpsed what appeared to be the Imperial Navy fleet surrounding the yacht.
“Are they coming from there?” she asked Olga.
Olga barely glanced at the ships.
“No, no,” she said. “They just escort our ship.”
At Livadia, it had been easy to forget just how imperial the Imperial Family was. But rushing along the Standart that morning to meet her own personal sailor, with the army and the navy fleet and the orchestra, Maisie realized that she was in the presence of something she’d never experienced before. And in that moment, she began to understand why the people of Russia began a revolution.
It seemed to Felix that Maisie was obsessed with just how imperial the Imperial Family was. The size of their yacht. The personal sailors for the Grand Duchesses. The balalaika orchestra. The navy escort. All of it made her feel that maybe the people of Russia were not getting fair treatment. After all, she argued, if the Tsar had so much, what did everyone else have?
Felix tried to listen. He really did.
But he had other things on his mind.
First of all, he liked Anastasia. A lot. And all this complaining about the royal family made him uneasy.
And second of all, the egg that they’d brought with them was sitting on a mantel back at Livadia. Which meant they could not go back home. Even if they wanted to. Which, Felix had to admit, was something he most certainly did not want. Still, he knew from experience that he might have to go home. Anything could happen at any time, sending them headlong into danger.
Felix knew they needed that egg.
But he decided not to tell Maisie where it was. She was so worried about injustices to the people of Russia, she appeared to have forgotten all about the egg anyway.
Even though Felix enjoyed his time on the Standart, spending his days much as he did at Livadia—walking in the woods or on the beach, writing and performing plays, sleeping under a starlit sky—he did wonder when they might go back to Crimea.
The Empress’s friend Anna Vyrubova had joined them, and she and the Empress spent much of their time together knitting or playing the piano. The sounds of Tchaikovsky often filled the afternoon air. They did appear at teatime, and listened to the music of the brass band or the balalaika orchestra as the Grand Duchesses showed them the things they’d collected on their walks.
“They lead a boring life,” Maisie whispered to Felix one day after they’d been cruising along the Finnish coast for a few weeks.
“It’s not boring,” he said. “It’s just different from ours, that’s all.”
Maisie rolled her eyes.
“I bet the Russian people are out working in fields and factories while their leaders collect sea glass,” she said with a huff.
One day the Dowager Empress arrived via her yacht, Polar Star, and that was the excitement for the next forty-eight hours. The Dowager Empress had been the empress before her husband, Tsar Alexander, died suddenly. She hardly ever lived in Russia anymore, and everyone was all excited to have her aboard.
The only person who didn’t appear was Alexei.
He stayed in his room, or with his mother, out of sight.
When the Dowager Empress was aboard, Maisie saw her go into the Tsarevich’s stateroom, but try as she might, Maisie couldn’t catch a glimpse of the boy.
After two months cruising around the fjords of Finland, Anastasia announced to Felix that they were leaving the Standart.
“Back to Livadia?” he asked hopefully.
“No,” she told him. “We spend August in our hunting lodge in Poland.”
And so on they went to Spala, the Imperial hunting lodge in the heart of Bialowieza Primeval Forest. They arrived there on September 1, riding in a line of grand carriages, each drawn by two horses dressed in fancy headgear. In Newport, the mansions were called cottages by their original owners. Spala was kind of like that, an enormous mansion that the royal family called a hunting lodge.
When they walked inside, Felix gasped. The walls of the entry hall were covered with animal heads. The heads stared down at them with glassy yellow eyes, the antlers and horns jutting from the tops.
“You mean you really hunt here?” Felix asked, trying not to make eye contact with any of the dead animals staring at him.
Anastasia laughed. “We don’t, silly. Papa does.”
She began pointing to each head and naming what it was. Or what it had been, Felix thought, feeling even creepier.
“Stag. Stag. Bison. Boar. Auroch—”
“Thanks,” Felix said, relieved to follow everyone up to the second-floor bedrooms.
But before he even got to the stairs, the Tsar stopped him and Alex Andropov.
“Would you two like to join us on the hunt tomorrow morning?” the Tsar asked.
“Yes!” Alex said enthusiastically.
At the same time Felix said, “No!” just as enthusiastically.
“Wonderful,” the Tsar said. “We leave at eight in the morning.”
He patted each boy on the head before he moved to help his wife upstairs.
“Hunting at Spala,” Alex said dreamily.
“But, Alex, I don’t want to go hunting.”
Alex didn’t seem to hear him. He was too busy gazing up at those heads on the wall.
“Twenty-eight points,” Alex said.
Tatiana paused. “Yes,” she said. “What a trophy! Twenty-eight points on that stag’s antlers. It was shot by Prince Kotchube, one of the best shots in the world.”
“Is he coming with us tomorrow?” Felix asked, not sure if that would be a good thing or a bad thing.
Tatiana shook her head.
“Hurry, now,” she said. “Papa is getting the diamond!”
Happy to leave those heads, Felix ran up the stairs, catching up with Maisie.
“Happy hunting,” she teased him.
Felix could only groan.
They joined the others in the Tsar’s study. The centerpiece of the room was an enormous oak desk, stretching at least seven feet across. Around the room were many couches made out of oak trees.
Anastasia saw Felix looking at them and whispered, “Those trees were a thousand years old.”
“And you cut them down to make couches?” Felix asked in disbelief.
“This forest is full of trees that old,” Anastasia explained. “There’s one that’s over twelve hundred years old.”
The Tsar cleared his throat. He was standing at the window holding a large diamond that sparkled in the afternoon sun.
Once everyone had gathered, the Tsar began etching something into the window with the diamond. The sound reminded Felix of fingernails on a chalkboard, and he shivered.
“What’s he doing?” Maisie asked.
Maria answered her in a quiet voice. “When we arrive, he etches the date we arrived in the window with
that diamond. Isn’t it a lovely tradition?”
Maisie thought it was kind of weird, but by this time, with entire orchestras on the yacht and personal sailors, nothing the royal family did surprised her.
The next morning promptly at eight, cars arrived to take the hunters into the forest. Felix had barely been able to eat the night before as they sat in the dining room that seated one hundred and fifty people, eating a sumptuous dinner of wild boar and pheasant. This morning he couldn’t even manage to eat the usual basic breakfast of bread and butter and tea. His stomach was tied up in knots, and all he could think of as they got deeper and deeper into the forest was how he could escape without getting mistaken for a stag himself.
The Tsar told Felix and Alex Andropov that they would stay with him, in the center. He helped them hide in the foliage, and when he saw the look of terror on Felix’s face, he kneeled so that they were eye to eye.
“Felix,” the Tsar said softly, “I don’t love hunting or killing. For me, this is a chance to be outdoors in this beautiful forest. And I think you are like me. You don’t want to hunt. You just want to enjoy nature and this glorious day. So stand right here beside me, and do just that.”
“Thank you,” Felix said, relieved.
The sound of a trumpet interrupted them, followed by the commander of the hunt’s order to begin.
Immediately, the forest grew noisy with shouts and cracks, the sounds echoing in the quiet.
Directly in front of Felix, Alex, and the Tsar, a herd of stag ran past. Felix squeezed his eyes shut, not wanting to see these beautiful animals hurt.
But then he heard the Tsar say, “Let’s just watch these majestic animals pass, shall we?”
Felix cracked his eyes open enough to see just that.
In front of the stags, a herd of wild boar ran past, snorting. And beyond, a red fox walked slowly by.
Felix could feel his heart beating in his chest. But not with fear. Instead, he was filled with an admiration and wonder at the beauty of nature.
When they broke for lunch, which was served on a long table draped in fine linen with gold-and-silver plates, Felix thanked the Tsar.
“Me?” the Tsar said. “I didn’t create this magnificent place. I only shared it with you.”
For the rest of their time at Spala, even though Alex Andropov eagerly went along whenever there was a hunt, Felix stayed behind, happy to have the memories of those stags and boars and that one red fox shining in his mind.
By the time they left Poland, Maisie was ready to go home.
“If I have to collect one more berry or dig for one more mushroom,” she grumbled to Felix, “I’m going to lose my mind.”
“I think it would be nice if we went back to Livadia,” Felix said. He could picture that egg beside the others on the mantel.
Maisie groaned.
“I know you’re all friendly with Anastasia, but I’m done here. Let’s just give her the egg and go.”
“How do you know it goes to Anastasia?” Felix hedged. “There are four Grand Duchesses and one Tsarevich.”
“Fine,” Maisie said. “Let’s try every one of them. Eventually it will land in the right hands.”
“But we haven’t even seen St. Petersburg yet,” Felix said. “Anastasia said that her mother has the most beautiful chambers in the world there.”
“Beautiful chambers?” Maisie repeated. “I don’t care about beautiful chambers. And I also have absolutely no interest in freezing in St. Petersburg.”
Felix shuffled his feet and stared down at the floor.
“Is this about that horrid Anastasia?” Maisie asked him. “Is that why you don’t want to leave?”
“She isn’t horrid,” Felix said. “She’s wonderful.”
“Then you stay,” Maisie said. “I’m going home.”
Felix still didn’t look up.
Maisie watched him carefully.
“You did find the egg, didn’t you?” she said.
Felix still didn’t look up or answer her.
“Didn’t you?” she persisted.
“Sort of,” he said.
“Either you did or you didn’t,” Maisie insisted.
“I know where it is,” he explained. “But I don’t have it.”
“Where is it, then?”
“Back at Livadia,” he admitted.
“Are they ever going back there?” Maisie asked, panicked. “Do we have to wait until next Easter?”
Felix finally looked up.
“I don’t know,” he said.
“But that’s seven more months!” she cried.
To Felix, seven months with the royal family did not sound terrible. The Grand Duchesses had told him about life at Tsarskoe Selo in St. Petersburg, and it sounded like a never-ending skating and sledding party with a few fancy balls thrown in.
But he could see how upset his sister was, so Felix said, “Anyway, we haven’t learned a lesson yet. So even if we did have the egg, and even if we gave it to the right person, we still wouldn’t be able to go home.”
Maisie glared at him.
“I’ve learned a lesson,” she said.
Before Felix could respond, she continued: “To never time travel with you again!”
That very night, two things happened that made Maisie feel better.
At tea, the Empress appeared with Alexei.
The Tsarevich had dirty-blond hair, gray eyes, and a dimple in each cheek. He was wearing a sailor suit very much like the one Felix wore, and he carried a spaniel named Joy in his arms.
“So you’re our guests from America?” he said.
Felix, Maisie, and Alex Andropov nodded.
“I’m the heir to the Russian throne,” he said proudly. “And that means you have to stand up when I enter the room.”
“Don’t be rude,” Tatiana scolded gently.
“It’s true!” Alexei insisted.
“All right,” he said, reluctantly. “You don’t have to stand if you don’t want to.”
He studied each of their faces thoughtfully.
“Do you have a bicycle?” he asked Felix.
“Um . . . yes,” Felix answered.
“Do you?” he asked Alex.
Alex shook his head. “I’m not allowed,” he said.
Alexei’s eyes grew bright.
“Neither am I!” he said. “We should be best friends, then.”
“All right,” Alex said.
Alexei narrowed his eyes.
“Do you play a lot of tennis?”
“None,” Alex said.
Alexei grinned. “Wonderful!”
Just then, Olga burst into the room, her cheeks flushed.
“I have the most lovely news!” she said.
Olga didn’t wait for anyone to ask her what her news was. “Mama is giving me a full dress ball for my birthday!” she said happily.
Maria and Tatiana shrieked with delight.
“Olga is turning sixteen in November,” Anastasia explained to the others.
“I hope we’re still here for it,” Maisie said, trying to sound sincere.
Anastasia’s eyes widened. “But you must stay for it! You must!”
“What color will you wear?” Maria said dreamily.
“Where will the ball be held?” Tatiana asked.
Olga smiled. “At Livadia,” she said. “Isn’t that perfect?”
Felix smiled, too. “Yes,” he agreed with relief. “Perfect.”
In September, they boarded the Imperial train back to Livadia.
The train had blue cars with the gold double-eagle crest on them. To Felix, it was like a palace. Ornate cars for the Tsar and Tsarina included a private study for him; a sitting room for her in her favorite color, mauve; and a huge bathroom with a specially designed bathtub
that didn’t slosh water, even when the train was moving. The children had their own suite of cars, too, and there were compartments for all the staff. The dining car had a kitchen almost the size of the one at Elm Medona, and a dining-room table that seated twenty people.
As they stepped aboard the train, Maisie grabbed Felix and whispered, “Get that egg.”
“I know!” he said, then hurried to catch up to Anastasia.
Alex Andropov appeared beside Maisie, looking pale.
“Are you sick?” she asked him.
“No, it’s just . . .”
“What?” she said impatiently.
“Well, I heard the aides-de-camps talking about the threat of a bomb,” he said.
“Where?” Maisie asked, dread creeping into her stomach.
“Here,” Alex said. “The train. You know the revolutionaries don’t like the Tsar.”
By now they had reached the children’s quarters.
“Maybe we should get off?” Maisie said as she felt the train start to move.
Something caught her eye out the window. “Alex! Look!”
She pointed to another train, also with blue cars and the gold double-eagle crests chugging behind them.
“Do you think the bomb is in there?” Maisie asked, frightened.
But Alex was grinning.
“That’s a decoy train,” he said. “The revolutionaries won’t know which is the right one, so we’re probably safe. Clever, eh?”
But Maisie was trembling too much to appreciate the cleverness of a duplicate decoy train. Instead, she sunk onto one of the white sofas and closed her eyes. Felix had better find that egg, she thought. Fast.
Maria came into Maisie’s room that evening.
“It’s time for zakouski,” she said.
“What’s that?” Maisie asked, wearily. She still had not fully recovered from her fright over a possible bomb earlier. And zakouski apparently didn’t have another translation, so even with the shard, zakouski was just zakouski.
“You know, little snacks,” Maria said. “Come on.”
Maisie didn’t have much of an appetite, but she followed Maria through the train to the dining car, where everyone was standing around eating from a big buffet of food.