The Fallen Queen

by Jane Kindred

  sex. My sojourn in the world of Man was opening my eyes to ways of

  being I had never imagined.

  We became a strange kind of family, sharing meals and company,

  and once even bundling up to watch the returning aurora while

  huddled together in the garden. Knud took care of us, a role that had

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  been Belphagor’s, and one we’d been sorely missing. When Knud told

  us of the Seraphim’s reluctance to winter in this cold country, I told myself we were safe for now and set my plans aside. If I was going to

  do what I intended, I needed to recover from this lingering malady. As long as I left before spring, I reasoned, Vasily wouldn’t be in danger.

  If the syla’s words were true and Azel lived, he was hidden and safe.

  But before spring came, the decision was taken out of my hands.

  I came down one morning to find Knud making breakfast.

  Though I thought I’d finally shaken whatever ailed me, the smell of

  sausages frying made me suddenly ill. The nausea caught me off guard,

  and I dashed to the sink and retched a clear yellow bile on an empty

  stomach. Knud paused at the stove while I splashed water on my face

  and caught my breath.

  “Nastya,” he said, still unaware Vasily had lied about my name.

  “I’m sorry,” I gasped. “It came on me suddenly.” Knud put his

  hand on my shoulder and I turned, ready to apologize again, but the

  look on his face gave me pause. “What? What’s wrong?”

  “Nastya.” He looked at me earnestly. “How long have you been

  pregnant?”

  I gaped at him and shook my head, ready to deny it. But when

  Knud put his arm around me and led me to the table, my defenses

  crumbled. I’d lied to myself long enough. I knew little enough about

  how such things worked that I’d been able to ignore the signs for a time.

  Pregnancy was one of the impolite, unpleasant realities my mother felt only peasants were base enough to allow into their discourse. When a

  cat I’d owned as a child gave birth to a litter of kittens, my mother had gathered us swiftly away to avoid exposure to the disagreeableness of

  it.

  “Didn’t you and Vasily take precautions?”

  I shook my head, uncertain what precautions he meant.

  “You were pregnant when I arrived. I assumed you’d discuss it in

  your own time. But you hadn’t realized, had you?”

  I gripped the edge of my chair, feeling pale. “I think I must have. I

  just didn’t want to believe it.”

  The pan started to smoke, and Knud resumed his cooking.

  “What do I do?” I asked.

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  “You have a baby.” The gypsy shrugged. “Or you don’t.”

  “What do you mean? How could I not?”

  Knud turned off the stove and faced me again. “You don’t know

  anything about this sort of thing.”

  “How do you know about it?” I asked, annoyed. “You don’t even

  have sex.”

  “I have three brothers and eight sisters. Six of my sisters have their own broods.” His mouth curved in a wry grin. “That may be why I

  don’t have sex.”

  I’d thought my family a large one with just three sisters and a

  brother. Like the Fallen, the gypsies seemed to be people who indulged their appetites.

  Knud pulled up a chair next to me. “There are ways to terminate

  your pregnancy. We can take you to a doctor and have it taken care of.

  Or there are gypsy ways.”

  I put my hand on my stomach out of reflex. I couldn’t imagine

  getting rid of the baby. Nor could I imagine giving birth. Ola was the one meant to have babies. Tears sprang to my eyes and Knud took

  them for distress at his talk of termination.

  “I’m sorry, Nastya, never mind. Don’t fret.” He pressed my hand.

  “Vasily and I are here to help you through this.”

  Help me through what? I wondered. The rest of my life? He’d

  helped so much already, and with little reason. I couldn’t see him

  staying with us forever. If there were a forever. I could see nothing at all beyond spring.

  “You have to tell Vasily,” Knud added gently. “He deserves to

  know.”

  I nodded. “Can you take him out today? So I can think of how to

  tell him?”

  “It’s fairly simple. ‘Vasily, I’m pregnant’ would probably do the

  trick.” With a mischievous smile, he went back to preparing breakfast.

  “Don’t worry. I’ve wanted to go to the baths. I’m sure I can convince

  him to come along.”

  While they were out later, I bundled up and went out to the ice-

  locked garden, hoping to see the syla again. The low-lying sun cast

  a dismal pall on the snow through a shroud of grey sky. No softly

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  moving branches, no light and shadow, no whispering forms danced

  at the periphery of my vision. The syla had come at midsummer and

  midwinter. Perhaps those were the only times they could be seen. I

  longed for their sisterly counsel, but there was none to be had.

  I returned inside and sat by the fire, not bothering to take off my

  coat, and drifted off to sleep. When I woke, the fire had burned down

  to embers.

  Vasily sat across from me. “I wanted to let you sleep. You’ve

  looked so tired lately.”

  “How were the baths?”

  “Very relaxing. I’d never been to a banya before. Not the sort of thing you find in Raqia.”

  I hadn’t come up with a good way to tell him my news while they

  were out, so I blurted what Knud had jokingly suggested. “Vasily…

  I’m pregnant.”

  Emotion glowed deep in his pupils. It didn’t turn out to be the

  emotion I’d hoped for.

  He stood and stared at me as if I’d told him I had murdered Knud.

  “You what?”

  “I’m pregnant.”

  “I bloody well heard you, Nazkia!” He kicked at the embers on

  the grate, making them flare. “How could you do this?”

  “How could I?”

  “You had no control over it?” He stepped toward me in a way that

  made me shrink back in my chair. “It just happened?”

  “Of course it just happened!”

  He yanked me from the chair and shook me, and I yelped in

  surprise. “You’re as devious as any demon whore in Raqia! Was this

  your plan from the start, to entrap one of us? Bel was gone so you

  settled for me?”

  The heat in his hands burned even through my coat.

  “You’re hurting me.” I twisted away, but he grasped my collar.

  Planting my feet, I shoved my hands in my coat pockets and stared in

  defiance into his smoldering eyes. My fingers closed around a smooth,

  cool object inside the right pocket. Belphagor’s callstone. I’d forgotten it. All this time I’d possessed the means to return to Heaven.

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  Vasily jerked me toward him, but before I could take my hand

  from my pocket, a swift tug pulled at me from the opposite direction.

  The ground lurched. Reeling against the spinning room, I grasped in

  vain for purchase, but everything solid eluded me. The compelling

  force flung me forward into a blaze of whiteness, expelling the breath from me, and I stumbled to my knees in a bank of snow. Air rushed

  back into my lungs; crisp and s
weet, it was the blessed air of Heaven.

  Where Vasily had stood a moment ago in the sitting room of a

  Russian dacha, a figure now stared down at me, wrapped in a hooded

  cloak. The bright winter sun of Heaven left the face in shadow.

  “Nenny?” It was a voice I’d not heard since the night I left Heaven.

  The hood slipped back. I looked up into the astounded eyes of my

  childhood nurse and burst into tears.

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  Vosemnadtsatoe: Wingcasting

  Aeval watched the demon sleep in her bed of down and silk, his

  dark hair a pleasing contrast against her customary shades of ice and

  diamond. His naked body bore a slate of tattoos that spoke of his

  Fallen existence, and the small, dark tips of his breast were pierced

  with rings of steel. It was a custom among the demons of Raqia to

  pierce their flesh, as with the straight rod capped by spikes decorating his left eyebrow, but this was a place she’d never seen it before.

  Her demon was proving a most excellent toy. He was recovered

  now, his body firm and hale, though he walked with a hint of a limp,

  and the pain he suffered in his joints was sometimes visible on his face.

  To his credit, he suffered in silence, which tempted her to push him

  beyond his limits. But when he dared even consider stepping out of

  line, she reminded him of his beloved Vasily and he became instantly

  compliant.

  Her consort was less gracious. The principality was by turns furious

  and fretful at her attentions to her plaything. Kae knew better than

  to challenge her on it, but he sulked and brooded until she charmed

  him with a smile or a kiss he couldn’t resist. On occasion she left

  Belphagor in Kae’s company to punish his petulance, giving orders to

  the Ophanim that Kae was not to abuse the demon, though she might

  turn a blind eye to a slap or a cuffing.

  She took perverse pleasure in seeing them together, the

  principality dressed in his usual black against his fair hair and features, and the demon, with his darker coloring, dressed by her in white silks

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  and ivory linens. It pleased her that the demon obeyed her without

  enchantment while the angel remained oblivious to what she’d done

  to him. Though she might tire of Belphagor eventually, Kae remained

  necessary to her aims. She couldn’t afford to give him his free will for the pleasure of breaking it.

  She woke her demon to partake of him, her mastery of the elements

  giving his body the vigor his appetite did not. The sorrow in his eyes as he serviced her told her he’d been dreaming of his demon lover. She

  indulged in a brief moment of compassion before his pain aroused her

  to more ecstatic heights. It was, after all, a compassion tempered by

  the knowledge that like all men, he was a liar. He’d brought the ring

  not to do her any favors, but to keep her Seraphim from tracking the

  troublesome grand duchess. Discreet inquiries among the Malakim

  had turned up no sign of her in any earthly sanctuary.

  Aeval did not take kindly to being thwarted.

  §

  Vasily stared in bewilderment at his empty hands.

  “Vasily, what have you done?” The gypsy stood poised with one

  foot on the bottom step of the staircase and the other not quite on the floor.

  “I haven’t done anything!” He responded defensively, afraid that

  he somehow had done something, though he couldn’t imagine what.

  “She was just—we were talking, and then she just wasn’t here.”

  Knud stepped down and approached him with caution. “Can you

  manipulate air?”

  Vasily shook his head. “That’s Belphagor’s element. But not even

  Bel could do that.” He looked helplessly at Knud. “She must have done

  it. I’ve seen her vanquish Seraphim.” He swallowed uncomfortably

  and dropped back into his chair. She’d saved his life afterward. And

  now he’d—what had he done?

  Knud sat across from him, still looking suspicious. “‘Talking’ isn’t

  exactly how I’d describe what I heard. You were rather unreasonable.”

  Vasily’s eyes sparked with fire. “Do you know what she’s done?”

  “As near as I can tell, she’s given up her virginity to a demon twice

  her age who’s shown no restraint or common sense. Or even gratitude

  for the gift.”

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  Vasily flinched. “I wouldn’t say twice her age,” he muttered, and then thought for a moment; one tended to lose count without the

  worry of physical aging. By the standards of the world of Man, he was

  frozen at the age of twenty-two—give or take or year of terrestrial

  living. He did the math anyway, using his piercings like an abacus.

  Damn it.

  Knud considered him with a frown. “You keep yourselves very

  close here, and Belphagor told me little, but I gather she’s some kind of celestial nobility who’s lived a very sheltered life. She doesn’t seem the least bit aware of her own physical nature. But you’re well acquainted with the facts of life. Well enough to have known you ought to have

  used protection. Well enough to know a woman can’t just will herself

  pregnant.”

  “You knew.” The tips of Vasily’s ears burned with anger and

  embarrassment.

  “Yes, I knew. I’m not daft. She seemed to be a bit, though. What’s

  your excuse?”

  Vasily opened his mouth, then thought better of answering and

  shut it.

  “She didn’t realize until this morning. She seemed mortified. I told

  her to talk to you. I didn’t expect you to lose your mind.”

  Vasily took off his glasses and scrubbed his face with his hands.

  “I did lose my mind, didn’t I? Bozhe moi.” He groaned. “I just—for a moment, it was as if my own mother were standing before me.”

  “That’s more perverse than I’d imagined.”

  Vasily slipped the glasses back on and glared over the top of them,

  and Knud looked sufficiently abashed. “There are a lot of street kids

  in Raqia, from a lot of stupid demon whores. My mother was one of

  them.” He tried to ignore the surge of hatred that always accompanied

  the thought of her. “Those women have no regard for the consequences

  of their actions or for their offspring. They’re worse than alley cats, breeding indiscriminately and dropping their spawn like garbage.”

  “Perhaps they have no education and don’t know the first thing

  about protecting themselves. Or maybe they can’t afford contraception.

  Or they’re afraid they’ll lose business if they ask their clients to use condoms and get labeled as diseased.”

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  “There are no condoms in Heaven,” Vasily scoffed. “It’s a different

  age.”

  Knud gave him a pointed look. “Or perhaps there are no condoms

  in Heaven.”

  Vasily grimaced. “How is it you’ve given so much thought to the

  subject, anyway?”

  Knud exhaled an exaggerated sigh. “Eight sisters. Fifteen nieces

  and nephews. And one grandnephew.”

  “Bozhe moi.”

  “Exactly.” Knud got up and went to the kitchen to make tea, the

  universal tonic. “I don’t envy women their choices. Or their lack of

  them. But regardless of how you feel about your mother, Nas
tya is

  hardly a world-hardened working girl. You took her to your bed and

  enjoyed her comforts. She trusted you. I hope a child is the only thing you’ve given her.”

  Vasily stood and spat on the fire, making it blaze once more with

  the advantage of his element and anger. “Bel and I are clean. We’ve

  been tested every time we’ve fallen and exposed ourselves to… ”

  “Humans,” Knud finished. “You don’t have to spare my feelings. I

  know we’re a dirty lot. I also know Belphagor has done time in Russian prisons more than once.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  Knud took the pot from the samovar and poured the zavarka into the cups. “Have you ever asked Belphagor about his tattoos?”

  “He won’t tell me.”

  “Not all of them were put there by his choice. I can guarantee you

  that.” The gypsy filled a cup at the samovar and held it out to Vasily.

  “I’ve seen the red crown—not in the way you think,” he added when

  Vasily’s volatile emotions boiled to the surface again. “The crown was placed there by force, to let the other prisoners know Belphagor was

  fair game.”

  Ignoring the cup Knud was still holding out, Vasily took a menacing

  step toward the gypsy. “That’s bullshit. He’d never have allowed it.

  And how the hell would you know?”

  Knud took a sip of tea. “I have a tattoo or two of my own. Allowing

  had exactly nothing to do with it.”

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  Vasily folded his arms over his chest. “What are you trying to tell

  me?”

  “I am trying to tell you”—Knud set down the cup—“that your

  boyfriend has made a far greater sacrifice for you than you realize,

  and that your girlfriend, wherever she’s gone, is pregnant, frightened, and in need of understanding. In short, I’m trying to tell you to wake the fuck up.”

  §

  Early spring storms had come to the Firmament of Shehaqim,

  sending flash floods from the northern mountain ranges of Aravoth

  hurtling through the glassy thoroughfares of the Third Heaven. As

  luck would have it, the flooding also gave Belphagor a welcome respite from the queen’s attentions. Concerned for her projects of renewal,

  she rode out in the midst of it to survey the damage. Unfortunately,

  she left Kae behind. His constitution was too fragile for such a journey, she said, leaving Belphagor with orders to keep him company. More

  likely, she’d left the principality to make certain her “pet” didn’t escape in her absence.