The Morning Star kt-3

by Robin Bridges

  George did not put me down but leaned closer to see the paper his brother held out.

  “That’s the spell he made me read,” I said. “He told me he needed to speak with the spirit of the one who had carried the sword last. I had no idea that person would be Princess Cantacuzene. Or that he would kill Mala.”

  I realized I was shaking. George stroked my bare arm comfortingly.

  “This is from the Book of the Dead,” he said. I nodded. “We found the fragment of papyrus in the caves at Giza. After we fought off Ankh-al-Sekhem.”

  “Who is—” Nicholas started to ask.

  “The Ankh-al-Sekhem who lived three thousand years ago?” Papus interrupted, joining us again.

  I nodded in wonder, amazed that he recognized the name. “Konstantin was trying to get information out of him.”

  George’s face clouded. “Papus and I tried to speak with Ankh-al-Sekhem in the Graylands. But we were unable to find him.”

  Only because I’d accidentally helped the Egyptian return to life. But I did not think George needed to hear about my adventures with the crown prince in Cairo. “You went to the Graylands? It’s too dangerous!” I said. “Especially with your illness.”

  George shook his head, dismissing my concern. “It needed to be done. Even if it was unsuccessful. You say only Papus can access the sword?”

  I nodded. “ ‘Past the seven gates of heaven, the Morning Star lies, betwixt the steadfast darkness and the unfailing light.’ That is what the sphinx in Cairo told us.”

  “The seven gates of Isis,” Papus said, rubbing his chin. “Of course. But I am not the only mage initiated in the highest degree of the Egyptian mysteries.”

  I looked at the Frenchman in alarm. “Danilo said you were the only one he knew of. How can we trust you? You tried to kill me in Cairo.”

  Papus shook his head gravely. “My apologies, Duchess. You were never in danger from me. We wanted the crown prince to believe we were working separately. It was for your protection. But it’s true that I am not the only qualified mage for the ritual. The grand duke finished his initiation last month.”

  George finally put me back down but kept a protective arm around my waist. “What is required of me?” he asked. “I’d been led to believe only a necromancer could carry the Morning Star.”

  Papus looked at me. “If you are correct about the sphinx’s riddle, it sounds as if there must be both a mage and a necromancer to retrieve the sword.”

  “I thought it took years of study in order to be initiated past the seven gates,” I said. “George, how did you push through so quickly?”

  “Russia is in danger. My father is in danger,” he said, his blue eyes boring into mine as he squeezed my hand. “You are in danger. I needed to finish my studies and return to St. Petersburg as swiftly as possible.”

  Papus looked guilty. “I told him it was foolish, but he was stubborn, Duchess. Even when his health seemed at the brink of collapse, he refused to quit.”

  I gave a little cry and looked from the Frenchman to the grand duke. “What have you done to yourself?” I demanded. If he was truly as powerful as Papus now, what was the cost to his health?

  “We know where to find the seven gates, Your Imperial Highness,” Papus said.

  I looked behind him and noticed the Grigori had regathered. They seemed tense. And excited.

  I was grateful that George had found me. But I also hated that he and Papus had been searching for me instead of the Morning Star. I did not want him distracted from what was important. Stopping Konstantin and protecting the tsar was most imperative.

  “Let me go to the Graylands with Papus, then,” I said. “He can get me through the seven gates and I will bring back the sword.”

  “Fine. I’m going with you.” George spotted the bundle containing my clothes and picked them up for me.

  “You can’t,” I said. “It’s too dangerous.”

  “Too dangerous for you to travel without me, Katiya.” He pulled me close to him once more. “I can’t lose you again. I am not letting go of you until we are husband and wife.”

  A hot flush crept over my skin. “You still want to marry me? No one will believe that Danilo did not compromise me. Even if Mala was with us, pretending to be my chaperone.”

  “I don’t give a damn about that. Unless you’ve changed your mind about us?” he said, his faerie blue eyes shimmering with silver specks. He was trying to read my thoughts.

  I stood on my tiptoes to kiss him. “Never.” I would never stop loving my grand duke.

  “Then we should be married now,” he said. “Before we leave Egypt.”

  I held out the folds of my theatrical gown. I was wearing white already, but the hem was stained with Mala’s blood. “This can’t be a good omen,” I said.

  George was not superstitious. “You look beautiful,” he reassured me.

  “But we should stop the lich tsar and Princess Cantacuzene first,” I said. “They will come after Papus. He’s in danger.”

  The French mage only smiled at this and shook his head.

  George took my hand and raised it to his lips. “Marry me first, Katiya. Papus and the sword are both safe from Konstantin, I swear to you.”

  There was a Coptic monastery between the ruins of Abydos and the riverside town of Belianeh, where a much nicer priest than the one in Riga listened to our confessions. He looked at my odd dress curiously but thankfully did not notice my bare feet. George showed him the papers he’d brought from St. Petersburg: copies of both of our baptism records and the letter the priest in St. Petersburg had written, stating that we were both of legal age and unmarried to anyone else.

  Brother Ananias looked younger than his fellow priests, but his beard was still peppered with gray. He was dressed in a simple black cassock with a black turban covering his head. His dark brown eyes were kind as he gestured for me to sit with him in the empty, quiet kitchen. “I can see that your heart is troubled, Duchess. And you have the Grigori with you. Are you in danger?”

  He knew about the Watchers, I realized with a start. Could he know about the other creatures that walked among us? Since the monastery was built just outside the ruins of an ancient pagan temple, I wondered how often the priests had encountered mages searching for lost knowledge. Did he know of the blood drinkers and the fae as well? “Have you encountered any members of the Order of the Black Lily?” I asked tentatively.

  “You are safe here, Duchess,” he said, smiling. “No creature can harm you within the walls of our sanctuary. Now, tell me what burdens your soul.”

  I breathed a sigh of relief and before I could stop myself, everything tumbled out. I’d been holding it all in for so long. My terrible gift, the undead creatures I’d made, and the lies I’d told to hide my secret from my loved ones. And worst of all, the terrible things that Danilo had made me do in the ancient crypt. I’d been an accomplice to a murder. I confessed it all to the Coptic monk.

  Brother Ananias frowned when I finished telling him about Konstantin’s plot. “For the Grigori to be divided and fighting against each other is not right. They chafe under the bonds of the Morning Star.”

  “I’ve been told the sword cannot be destroyed,” I said. “Is that true? Would destroying the Morning Star free the Grigori?”

  “It would free them from the bindings of the sword,” Brother Ananias said thoughtfully, “and they would no longer have to serve the bearer of the sword, but it would not end their curse. Because of their rebellion, they can never return to heaven. But without the sword urging them to fight, they would remain only as Watchers and would no longer be compelled to interfere in our petty human battles.

  “I’m afraid, however,” he continued, “that a sword forged in Heaven is indeed impossible to destroy. Besides, you need to carry the sword and lead the Grigori if you wish to defeat Konstantin.”

  “It’s the sword of Lucifer,” I said. “I don’t want to stain my soul any more if I can help it. If we can prevent Konstantin from
using the sword, won’t that be enough?”

  Brother Ananias took my hands in his. The skin on his palms and fingers was rough, and I imagined him working in the monastery gardens, patiently tending the roses that grew in this harsh land. “I do not feel you have to worry about your soul, Katerina Alexandrovna. The ancient Egyptians believed when a person died, his or her heart was weighed against a feather. The heart that was judged pure would not weigh more than the feather. I do not believe there is any malice in your heart, Duchess. I am certain it is pure.”

  “But I have brought the dead back to life and disturbed their rest,” I said in protest. I could not possibly be forgiven for these things, could I? “I belong to the Dark Court.”

  “God dwells in both the thick darkness and the unfailing light,” Brother Ananias said. His words were eerily close to those of the sphinx. It made the hair stand up on the back of my neck. “Your gift was given to you by God, and no one can fathom what God has planned for him or her. Not even you, necromancer.”

  My heart did feel lighter after our talk. Even if I knew there was still darkness ahead. Brother Ananias made the sign of the cross over me and together we recited the Lord’s Prayer. I left the kitchen with a new sense of hope, and George gave my hand a gentle squeeze as he passed me on his way to confess to the monk. He did not take nearly as long this time as he had with the priest in Riga.

  Following the Coptic tradition, George and I entered the simple chapel together, holding hands. I carried a small bouquet of Nile lilies and damask roses, picked for me by one of the men in the monastery’s sunken garden. The scent was heavenly.

  Nicholas Alexandrovich was happy to stand up for his brother. Amin, my donkey, and the little boy from the village waited outside the monastery with the Grigori. Papus stood quietly in the shadows in the back of the sanctuary. I knew he was anxious to find the sword. I was too, and I was worried about facing Konstantin and Johanna again. But George stood beside me with a reassuring smile. Everything was going to be all right in the end. Or so we hoped.

  Our ceremony was much simpler than it would have been if we’d been married in St. Petersburg. I remembered Grand Duchess Militza’s wedding to my cousin. She’d worn a silver gown embroidered with pearls and the jewel-encrusted Romanov nuptial crown with a veil of lace. The ceremony had taken place in the great Orthodox chapel at Peterhof Palace. It had lasted for hours as we stood in the crowded chapel in the summer, made even hotter by banks of burning candles.

  Brother Ananias chanted the litany in a beautiful bass voice as the other monks lit incense and chanted the responses. Everything became a blur after that. It had been days since I’d had a proper meal, and the exhaustion I felt from escaping Konstantin and Johanna earlier that morning had finally caught up with me.

  I remember repeating the words that the priest asked me to. I remember him blessing two golden rings, and I remember the smoky fog from the incense. I remember the embroidered capes they draped on both George’s and my shoulders. I remember the simple crowns placed on each of our heads, to symbolize our roles as the king and queen of our newly created household.

  George held my hand and placed the golden ring upon my finger. I remember feeling nothing but happiness when George kissed me as his wife. “I will love you always, Katiya,” he whispered. At last, I felt a sense of peace.

  We took the train back north, which was slightly faster than the trip by boat. The railroad line began at Assiut, several miles north of Abydos, so we used the hired steamer to bridge the gap. The dragoman was not sorry that Danilo was absent from our party. He accepted the extra gold offered by the tsarevitch, and within an hour we were boarding the train. I’d changed back into my blue traveling dress. I’d never been so happy to wear stockings and shoes in my life. George ordered the Grigori to see to my trunk.

  “That is not necessary,” I said. “There’s nothing in there that I want to keep. Except this,” I said, picking up the French copy of A Necromancer’s Companion. “And this,” I added, stuffing the medical book from the bazaar into a small suitcase Nicholas had purchased for me. I would repay the tsarevitch for the luggage and repay Danilo for the book. I did not want to have a reason to feel obligated to anyone.

  At my request, the Grigori took the trunk to the local orphanage where the nuns would distribute the clothing among the poor. Everything except for the almost-indecent negligee, of course, and even that I hoped could be torn apart and made into infant’s clothing or a child’s dress. But now I would be faced with a similar dilemma. I did not want to feel obligated to George for buying new clothes for me, even if we were now husband and wife. I could not get over how pleased I was with how that sounded.

  “The bride should be able to provide her own trousseau,” I said, feeling ridiculous. George could not stop grinning. We made a ridiculous couple. And it made me grin too.

  “Think of it as a wedding present,” his brother Nicholas suggested with a kind smile. He seemed happy to help us get married, even if he knew the trouble we would face when we reached St. Petersburg. I only hoped he would not share in our punishment.

  We stayed in the dining car all night as the train rolled north in the darkness. Neither of us suggested moving to the sleeping car. As Nicholas and Papus discussed the merits of Polish and French ballerinas at their own table, I fell asleep against George’s strong shoulder, hardly able to believe that we were together again after everything. My hand clasped in his, I dreamed of a future we might have after all.

  32

  We reached Cairo by sunrise. At some point, George had wrapped a blanket around both of us. I awoke to his gentle kisses up and down the side of my face. “Good morning,” he murmured. “We’re coming into the station, Katiya. It’s time to get up.”

  The Graylands awaited us. As did the Morning Star, hidden beyond the seven gates. I groaned and reluctantly stood and stretched. We did not stay on the train for breakfast. Instead, we took the electric tram through the city and headed east across the river, toward the necropolis. The Grigori loyal to Papus sat silently in the seats behind us. Nicholas and Papus were seated in front of us, also silent, each one wrapped up in his own thoughts.

  The great pyramids of Giza rose up out of the desert. I had a sinking feeling in my stomach as we drew closer to the ancient tombs. George seemed to sense this and took my hand in his.

  It had been decided that Papus would not go to the seven gates after all. He would accompany Nicholas back to Russia. Papus would use the Grigori portals and escort the tsarevitch through the Graylands swiftly so they could reach St. Petersburg before us—hopefully before Konstantin arrived. George wished his brother could travel the Graylands with us, but we both knew it was impossible.

  “But it would be safer for the two of you if Papus and I went along to retrieve the sword,” the tsarevitch argued one last time. “We would make a formidable team.”

  George shook his head. “Out of the question. You are the heir. Go with Papus straight to St. Petersburg. And don’t worry about us.” He squeezed my hand affectionately. “Katiya and I will be fine. We’ll meet up with you as soon as possible. It should not take us long.”

  George embraced his brother as we stood at one of the temple walls near the sphinx. The two Grigori stood at attention, awaiting Papus’s instructions. “Give Mother Dear and Xenia my love,” George told Nicholas. “I hate that you will face Papa’s wrath before I do.”

  Nicholas smiled and shook his head. “There will be plenty of wrath to go around when you get back. Take care of yourself, Brother.”

  “You too, Nicky.” George stepped back and wrapped his arm around my waist.

  “Be careful, Your Imperial Highness,” I said. I dreaded the return to St. Petersburg. The tsar may have given his blessing for our engagement, but only at a price I was not willing to pay. The empress would be furious with us for eloping and depriving her of a wedding to orchestrate. I hoped her anger would not last. It would not be long before she would have Nicholas’s wedding an
d Xenia’s to plan. And many years in the future, the weddings of Olga and Mikhail.

  Papus murmured an incantation in a language I could not understand. A doorway appeared in the side of the temple, between the two Grigori. With a polite tip of his hat, the French mage stepped through the doorway with Nicholas following him.

  “Are we to use the same portal?” I asked George. The doorway remained open, but I could not see past its threshold.

  “No, we will use a portal you create,” he said. “That way I can save my energy for the seven gates.” Before our eyes, the doorway between the Grigori faded. George motioned for me to follow him and we walked around to the main entrance of the temple.

  I paused to look at him anxiously. Had he lost more weight since we’d been in Riga? “Are you certain it’s safe for you to go?” I asked.

  He answered with a reassuring kiss on my forehead. “Stop worrying about me. We’re wasting time.”

  This area had been excavated decades earlier and then abandoned, as there had been nothing worthy of stealing within. A few carvings along the walls looked as if someone had tried to chip into the granite and remove the carvings. Images of pharaohs and other men wearing crowns lined the narrow entrance hall. And at the end of the hallway I saw a carving that alarmed me. A figure in a robe held his hands out as rays of light spiraled up around his body.

  “The sun?” I asked.

  “No, the cold light. The ka,” George said. He told me to put my hands on the figure and push. I gasped in surprise when the carving turned into a door and opened. George took a dripping candle from its handle on the wall and followed me inside.

  The opening did not lead to another chamber but directly into the Graylands.

  “Are you certain it’s safe for you to be here?” I asked. I clasped George’s arm, feeling his solid warmth for reassurance. His heart still beat. He still drew breath.