The Morning Star kt-3

by Robin Bridges

  My pulse quickened as I passed through the first gate. Nothing happened and I breathed a sigh of relief. As I took another step, however, there was an explosion of bright white light from the chamber beyond the seventh gate. Gasping, I began to run toward the chamber, not heeding the gates as I passed through.

  In the Chamber of the Sword stood what looked like an enormous Grigori, with wings of blazing white flames. “Necromancer, you tread on holy ground.” The voice was female.

  I dropped to my knees immediately. George was kneeling to my right, holding a bundle of linen marked with protective sigils. That was how he’d managed to carry the Morning Star without harm. “Have you lost your mind?” I whispered. “What made you think you had to do this on your own?”

  George had the sense to look sheepish. “I didn’t want you to see this. I wanted it to be quick and painless.”

  “It is honorable that you wish to return the Morning Star to heaven,” the angel Auriel said. “But there must be consequences. Whoever is chosen to carry the sword cannot return.”

  The angel’s words sank in slowly. The Koldun had been right. One of us would not be going back to the land of the living. I stared at George, my heart numb. “You wanted to leave me?” I asked. “You knew you weren’t coming back and you didn’t even want to say goodbye?” I glared at him. “I’ll take the sword,” I said, rising to stand before the angel.

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” George said, getting up as well. “I won’t let you throw your life away, Katiya.”

  “And I can’t live without you,” I said. I could not believe we were arguing in front of an angel. I blinked back tears. Perhaps she would take both of us. Was my soul pure enough to earn eternity with George?

  The white flames surrounding the angel grew into a raging inferno. And yet I felt no heat. The altar behind the angel where I’d originally found the Morning Star now looked like a pagan funeral pyre.

  “Please go back,” George said. “Finish your degree, Katiya. Do it for me.”

  I shook my head, furious at the tears running down my cheeks. “You can’t make that decision for me!”

  “Oh, for the love of the saints!” Danilo shouted as he pushed past me and snatched the sword from George. He took a step toward the pyre and turned around, looking at both of us. There was a flash of the old arrogance in his dark eyes. “You will name your firstborn son after me, of course.” The holy fire burned around him like a halo.

  I was too stunned to speak. George was silent as well but put an arm around me. Danilo looked sad, but only for a moment. Then the flames consumed him and the Morning Star. The angel Auriel vanished as well. George and I were left alone in the dark, silent chamber.

  I could do nothing but stare at the space where Danilo had been standing only seconds before. Why would he perform such an unselfish act? That was not the crown prince I knew.

  George’s hand slid up and down my back. I sank to the floor in relief. The Morning Star was gone, safe from the world forever. And the Talisman of Isis had been destroyed. There would be no more Grigori armies. And no more undead soldiers. The members of the Order of St. Lazarus would have their rest at last.

  George kissed the top of my head. “It’s over, Katiya,” he whispered into my hair. “We can go home.”

  I could not believe we’d just survived our first argument as a married couple. In front of an angel. But I was not ready to let go of all the emotions that had been stirred up. The more I thought about it, the angrier I became. Not just at George, but at myself as well. “You were willing to sacrifice yourself. You would have left me.” I looked up at him. “Are you suffering that much? Am I being cruel to want to keep you alive with me? Do you think me selfish?”

  He held out his hand to me, but when I ignored it, he sighed and sat down next to me. “You make my life worth living, Katiya. You give me the energy to keep going. To keep hoping. If you had left with the Morning Star, I wouldn’t have been able to continue. Truthfully, I think I was being the selfish one.”

  Gently, he picked up my hand and laced his fingers with mine. “Not only did Danilo save you, but he saved me as well. And if you ask me, he did what he did out of love for you.”

  I sighed. “We’ll never know, will we?”

  This time, I took both of his hands when he offered and stood up, blinking back tears for the crown prince before George could see. Summoning all my cold light, I forced open a doorway right there in the Chamber of the Sword that would take us back to our villa. I did not want to spend one second longer in the Graylands. I was eager for the two of us to get started living the rest of our lives.

  HISTORICAL NOTES

  Tsar Alexander III never did readmit women to the medical universities in Russia. But in 1895, his son Nicholas II approved the opening of the St. Petersburg Women’s Medical Institute. His wife and eldest daughters became nurses during World War I and worked with Princess Vera Gedroits, a noblewoman from Kiev who had received her medical degree in Switzerland. Dr. Gedroits was a surgeon on a Red Cross hospital train that served on the front lines during the Russo-Japanese War. She later became a professor at the medical college in Kiev.

  Tuberculosis claimed the life of the real Grand Duke George Alexandrovich in 1899. After falling sick during his voyage to Egypt in 1890, the grand duke followed his doctors’ recommendations and relocated from the damp air of St. Petersburg to the hot and dry mountains of Georgia. During his exile from his family, he was responsible for the building of an astronomy observatory as well as the reconstruction of a local medieval church. To this day, there are rumors that he was secretly wed to a princess in Georgia, possibly related to one of the Dukes of Oldenburg by marriage.

  Across Europe and America in the eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries, tuberculosis, or TB, was often assumed to be a case of vampirism. A family would find other members wasting away after the death of one person who had the disease, which was also known as consumption. Not understanding how the disease was transmitted, everyone assumed the deceased was returning from the grave every night to drain the blood of the rest of the family. The solution? Digging up the deceased, beheading him or her and/or cutting out the heart, and feeding it to the invalids. These measures, of course, seldom cured the patients.

  Despite Dr. Robert Koch’s discovery of the bacteria Mycobacterium tuberculosis in 1882, a cure for tuberculosis was not discovered until 1944, with the development of the drug streptomycin. The disease is now under control, but it has not been eradicated. Millions of people worldwide still become infected with TB every year. New drug-resistant strains continue to elude scientists and defy modern treatment. The search for a practical vaccine is ongoing.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  Once again, many, many thanks to my agent, Ethan Ellenberg, and his assistant, Evan Gregory, for all the amazing work they do for Katerina here and abroad. And to my Random House family: especially Françoise Bui, my favorite editor in the world, along with my copyediting team, and Nicole Banholzer, my superhero publicist, and Trish Parcell, who uses Michael Frost’s gorgeous photography to design the most beautiful covers and bring Katerina to life.

  Thanks to my hospital family, who have been so supportive of me, especially the ghouls who work with me at night and the former ghouls who now walk the halls on day shift. I love all of you ladies!

  And thanks to my real family, who put up with the many, many weeks when I’ve forsaken you utterly to hang out with my imaginary friends.

  And spasibo to my online groups: the Class of 2K12, the Apocalypsies, and the Elevensies. I would never have made it through these past few years without the support of such good friends, especially Annie Gaughen, who, late at night, helps me plot wicked things to do to my characters.

  Hugs and cupcakes for all the librarians, booksellers, and book bloggers who have promoted the Katerina Trilogy to readers everywhere. Seeing my name on a book on a shelf sandwiched between Libba Bray and Meg Cabot was one of the greatest moments of my life. And much
less messy than childbirth.

  Finally, a Russian-sized thank-you to all the readers all over the world. Your continued enthusiasm and support for Katerina mean so much to me! Spasibo!

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  By day, Robin Bridges is a mild-mannered writer of fantasy and paranormal fiction for young adults. By night, she is a pediatric nurse. Robin lives on the Gulf Coast with her husband, one teenager, and two slobbery mastiffs. She likes playing video games and watching Jane Austen movies. The Katerina Trilogy began with The Gathering Storm and continues with The Unfailing Light and The Morning Star. You can visit Robin at robinbridges.com.

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