The Gathering Storm kt-1

by Robin Bridges

  “You cannot! Your arm is bleeding!” I reached behind him into a cabinet and pulled out a bundle of gauze and a bottle of iodine. “Let me see that.”

  The grand duke frowned. “There’s no time. You know it’s too dangerous to leave that creature running around the city!”

  “I know it is too dangerous to let you run off losing blood like this. Give me your arm.” I ignored the short little doctor, who was pitching a fit about regulations in the doorway. The gash on the grand duke’s arm was long. “You are going to have a nasty scar,” I said as I gently held pressure to stop the bleeding.

  “All true warriors wear their scars proudly,” he mumbled. “How can I be proud of this one?”

  I looked up at him, horrified, as I realized what he meant. “What will your parents say?” I would be sent to Siberia. My whole family would be exiled. If not executed.

  He shook his head. “They will know about the count before too long. My father will think that I failed to protect the public from this danger. It is I who fear being sent to Siberia.”

  “But … wait. I didn’t express my fears out loud, did I?” I dropped his arm and backed away, suddenly spooked by his silvery faerie eyes. “Can you read my thoughts?”

  “Sometimes, when I concentrate.” He winced and grabbed the bandage from me to apply pressure to the bleeding himself. “You are very easy to read. Most of the time.”

  I blushed and could think of nothing more to say. When the bleeding had stopped, I cleaned the cut with iodine and wrapped it in gauze for him without saying another word.

  The Austrian doctor returned to the room with a suture kit, wishing to sew up the grand duke’s arm. But the grand duke shook his head. “Thank you, this will do, sir. Is my carriage outside?”

  The guard behind him nodded.

  The grand duke’s face was grim and pale, but he refused any morphine, though I pleaded with the doctor to medicate him. “No, it is not necessary. I thank you for your help. We must hurry, Duchess.”

  I quickly followed him into the carriage. “Are we going after the count?” I asked as we drove away from the hospital.

  “No, you are going back to Smolny.”

  “But what about the count?”

  “The guards are searching for him in the woods right now. He will be found soon, no doubt, taken for a madman, and dragged away to the asylum.”

  “No.” I could see the grand duke was fighting the pain in his arm. “We can’t abandon him like this. He needs our help.”

  “Duchess, I believe you might belong in the asylum as well.” The carriage stopped at the Smolny Institute’s front gate. The brief daylight of winter was already starting to fade. “Good day, Duchess. I hope you enjoyed our carriage ride in the woods this afternoon. My sister tells me she enjoys your company. She hopes you will join us again sometime soon.”

  He said this loudly, for Madame Metcherskey was standing in the portico, glaring at me with her pinched mossy-green eyes. I knew whatever punishment the grand duke was going to face, mine would most likely be worse.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  I was wrong.

  Apparently, being the guest of the tsar’s son gives one special privileges. Madame Metcherskey did not scold me after the grand duke nodded in her direction. She did manage to lecture me about the importance of modern propriety and the dangers of appearing in public without a chaperone, no matter how high-bred a gentleman my companion was. Never mind that we had actually been with chaperones for most of the afternoon. Both living and undead.

  By that evening, the entire dining hall had heard that I had skipped dance lessons to visit with the imperial family. Elena pouted, wishing I had asked her to walk with me. I was most glad I had not. She need know nothing about Count Chermenensky. Aurora Demidova asked me if the grand duke let me call him by his Christian name, a sign to her that we were close to being formally engaged. Dariya gave her approval. “A much better choice for you than the crown prince,” she whispered.

  Mon Dieu! As if the grand duke thought of me as a potential grand duchess! I almost choked on my spiced fruit compote. “Not at all. I was only invited to join them because of Grand Duchess Xenia,” I told them. “She decided to accompany Princess Alix back to her sister’s palace when the princess became ill.”

  Elena seemed to perk up at that information. I did not know who the tsarevitch favored of the two princesses, Elena or Alix, but I suspected he would be much happier with the latter. Not to mention that she would probably make a better empress.

  I did hope I had changed the grand duke’s mind toward female doctors after we’d seen the old Austrian physician’s gruff incompetence. Perhaps he’d been a little impressed with the way I had handled his injury.

  I fell asleep that night with my head on the Latin textbook again. I’d still received no word from the University of Zurich, so I’d sent a letter to the University of Paris as well. Madame Orbellani told me their admission requirements were even stricter. But I was too stubborn to give up hope.

  I dreamed once more of the unholy temple in the Black Mountains of Montenegro. I dreamed of Prince Danilo. He had completed his ascension and had become a Vladiki. And there was nothing I could do to stop it.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  There was no word on the fate of Count Chermenensky. I heard nothing from George Alexandrovich. Nothing from the gossips at the school. Nothing in the newspapers I read in the library. As each day passed without news, my nerves twisted tighter and tighter in my stomach. I had unleashed a monster on the streets of St. Petersburg, even though I didn’t know how. And I was worried about the poor creature’s safety.

  I received an invitation to go sleigh riding on Saturday with the Montenegrin sisters and their brother, followed by tea at the Tauride Gardens pavilion. The thought of seeing Prince Danilo again after my latest horrid dream put my stomach in knots. I was both repulsed and confusingly attracted to him.

  Saturday morning was cold and crisp, with pale Russian sunshine casting a weak light across the snow. Dariya was worried about my going on an outing with the Montenegrins. “Perhaps you should pretend to be ill, Katiya?” she asked nervously.

  “Do not worry about me. Princess Cantacuzene gave me a ring that I wear. She says it will protect me against their spells.” I showed her the ring on my finger before donning my kidskin gloves. I wore it all the time now, mostly on a ribbon around my neck, hidden under my dress. It certainly wouldn’t hurt anything.

  Dariya crossed herself and muttered but still tried to be helpful and told me the blue woolen dress looked better against my winter-pale skin than the brown dress.

  Elena, looking particularly rosy, was entirely too chatty as we took breakfast in the nearly empty dining hall. It was a simple breakfast of bread and jam with tea, just enough to warm our bellies. I usually returned home each weekend, as did most of the St. Petersburg students. The foreign students remained at the institute unless invited home with another classmate. I rarely invited my friends home, never wanting anyone to witness one of Maman’s séances. I did not think Madame Tomilov would approve if one of my classmates became possessed. Such things had been known to happen before—at my aunt Zina’s one and only séance, for example.

  One of the Smolny servants came to the dining hall to tell us Elena’s siblings were at the front gate. She helped us both into our woolen cloaks.

  Prince Danilo smiled at me, his white teeth dazzling. “Katerina Alexandrovna,” he said, extending his hand to help me into the sleigh. “It is good to see you on this beautiful morning.” He smiled at Elena too. “And you as well, my sister.”

  She rolled her eyes as she climbed in and sat next to Militza. The grand duke Peter Nikolayevich, Militza’s fiancé, sat on the other side of Militza. I bowed to the grand duke and said hello to Militza and Anastasia.

  We rode through the Summer Gardens, which were just as beautiful in the wintertime, at least to me. The sleigh was pulled by four handsome black stallions.

  Elen
a was eager to tell her sisters about my outing with the imperial family. “Our Katerina must find our company too dull for her when the Romanovs call upon her so often.”

  “They did not call upon me the other day.” I felt I had to confess. “I was walking in the woods and found a soldier who was ill. I was trying to help him when the Romanov party came upon us and helped me get the man to the military hospital.”

  “What a kind thing to do,” Militza said. “That man is most lucky that you happened upon him.”

  “I’d like to believe that” was all I could diplomatically say. I doubted the count would agree if anyone should ask him.

  “You were lucky he was not a dangerous man,” the grand duke Peter Nikolayevich said to me.

  I nodded. “I realize walking alone in the woods was rather foolish, but I cherish winter days like this.” I’d go insane if I did not have some fresh air and solitude every day. Though if every day was like that one, I’d go insane even faster.

  The horses were lively, trotting past the frozen ponds along the main garden path. I hoped the count had found a safe place to hide. Did he even realize he was in danger? He’d had the sense to run away from the guards at the hospital.

  “And tell us, what do you think of the mysterious princess Alix?” Stana asked. “I have heard so very little about her. Is she much like her sister, the grand duchess Elizabeth?”

  I nodded. “I think she is a good deal younger, but she favors the grand duchess very much. Although she is shy, she seems to be enjoying her visit to St. Petersburg.”

  Stana looked at her older sister and smiled wickedly. “I do hope we get to make her acquaintance soon.”

  “Maybe she will be at the ballet tomorrow night,” Elena said. “I wonder what she thinks of Tchaikovsky.”

  “She certainly cannot be as beautiful as any of you,” Prince Danilo said. “I am surrounded by the most beautiful women of all of Europe. What lucky men we are, Peter Nikolayevich!”

  Elena laughed. “Dani, you are not even a man yet! Quit teasing us!”

  The prince glowered at his sister. “And you are not yet a woman, but I praise you nevertheless.”

  The siblings got into a pushing match, making the carriage wobble from side to side.

  Princess Militza sighed. “Children, behave.”

  The grand duke smiled as Militza took his arm in hers. They made a very handsome couple but did not act like a young couple in love. Not at all like the tsarevitch and Princess Alix.

  Elena shoved her brother playfully, pushing him into me. “I am so sorry, Duchess,” he said, his dark eyes boring into mine. He took my hand gallantly. “Have I injured you?”

  “Oh, not at all!” I said, even though I secretly wanted to box Elena’s ears. I knew she had shoved him toward me on purpose. She looked positively gleeful. Be careful, I told myself. This family is dangerous. All of them, even Danilo.

  We stopped at one of the pavilions within the garden to rest the horses. There was no one else visiting that day, and the gardens had a barren, deserted appearance. Their naked branches and snow-covered grounds gave them a stark beauty, and I wandered off from the group to breathe in the crisp air. Away from the chattering of Elena and her sisters, it was as silent as a tomb.

  A rabbit hopped out of the thicket, saw me, and ran back into hiding. He reminded me of poor Count Chermenensky.

  “A ruble for your thoughts, Duchess,” Prince Danilo said, his voice low behind me.

  Believing my thoughts were truly worth more than that, I merely shook my head. “It is so beautiful out here,” I answered.

  “You are a true snowbird,” the crown prince said, taking my hand. “I prefer the more temperate climates of my home. Yet it does grow bitterly cold in the winter in our mountains.”

  I could not help shivering as I remembered my dream. Was there really a temple in Prince Danilo’s Black Mountains?

  “You must come and see my beautiful country,” he said as we walked farther away from the others. “The trees and the flowers bloom in the spring, and Cetinje is full of fragrant blossoms. We celebrate St. Yuri’s Day when the earth opens up and everything blooms. There is a magnificent church festival.”

  “It sounds lovely,” I said.

  The prince took my gloved hand and held it up to his lips. Even through the leather, I could almost feel his warm breath on my skin. I tried not to shudder, because I realized then that the ring was indeed protecting me. I felt nothing for the prince—except fear. “I hope you will join us in Cetinje for St. Yuri’s Day. Nothing would please me more, Katerina Alexandrovna.”

  He smiled, and his teeth gleamed in the cold winter light.

  I managed to make some noncommittal remark, and the moment passed.

  But my fears stayed. If anything, they grew stronger.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  “St. Yuri’s Day? Heavens, child. Why would they want you present on that day of all days?” Princess Cantacuzene paced back and forth in her mauve wallpapered parlor. She looked at the calendar on her writing desk, then continued to pace and mumble to herself.

  I was finally able to visit the princess on Sunday afternoon. The headmistress at Smolny believed I was at home with my parents, and my parents believed I had already returned to the school. I had many questions about the Montenegrins, and the princess was the only one I felt I could trust. “He says it is when the earth opens up in the spring and sends forth the flowers,” I told her.

  “Yes, and it is traditionally known as the day when the earth spews forth all sorts of foul things as well. Vampires, and other forms of the undead.”

  “Other forms? What other forms?” I sat down on the sofa. I wished there were a textbook of undead creatures. Or a field guide. It would make my life so much easier.

  The princess sat down next to me. “You already know there are several kinds of vampires. First there are the Vladiki.”

  “There are other kinds of vampires?” This was getting more and more complicated.

  The princess called a servant to bring us tea in the parlor. “Of course, Katerina. The Vladiki and the female veshtizas are found in the southern Balkan countries, but there are also the Russian upyri, who are savage blood drinkers, more animal than man. And then there are the Dekebristi, who have not been seen in Russia for many, many years.”

  “The Dekebristi were vampires?”

  Princess Cantacuzene closed her eyes. “Their undead servants. Created by Konstantin’s beloved to serve him.”

  Maman had told me about the vampires Tsar Nicholas had defeated, but I hadn’t wanted to believe it. “The history books tell us that Grand Duke Konstantin signed away his claim to the throne because he wanted to marry a Polish commoner,” I said. “But if she created the Dekebristi, what did that make her? What kind of powers did she have?”

  “A commoner is what the Romanovs call her,” the princess said with a bitter laugh, waving her hand absentmindedly. “But you are wanting to know about the different kinds of undead. Besides the vampires, you may find a revenant, or a ghoul. Flee from the both of them, because they are mindless and violent. More so than the normal peasant.

  “They both like to come out under the full moon,” she continued, “when there is plenty of light, for they are almost blind and their eyes are not accustomed to daylight. A revenant will haunt the graveyard in broad daylight, however, if there is reason. The ghoul likes to devour human flesh, while the revenant often prefers to eat its own flesh. He is usually not too particular, however. A revenant is always hungry.”

  I started to feel hollow inside. Hollow and nauseated at the same time. Poor Count Chermenensky. “Your Highness, is there any way to cure an undead, like a revenant, for example?” For that was what the count appeared to be.

  “Of course, dear.” My shoulders relaxed when I heard her say this. There was hope for the count. If I could just find him and administer the cure before the tsar’s guards found him, everything would be fine. The princess took her tea from the servan
t’s tray and stirred her sugar slowly. “The cure is very simple. Remove the revenant’s head from his body. Voilà. Revenant is cured.”

  My heart sank. This had been the grand duke’s plan all along—what he still planned to do when he found the count again.

  “But do not dwell on such creatures. The Vladiki are the only ones you should be concerned with. And not only the crown prince. You must be wary of Princess Militza. She is more ambitious than she seems.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  “You must become better acquainted with them, I believe, in order to uncover their secrets. My ring will keep you safe from them.” She rose from her chair and approached the bookcase. “You should also begin learning more about your abilities. Here we are.” She selected a thick, dusty book from the bottom shelf and pressed it into my hands. A Necromancer’s Companion. The black leather cover had Egyptian hieroglyphics imprinted down its spine. “I don’t need to tell you to keep it hidden. Share it with no one.”

  “Your Highness, I want no part of this. Please take it back.”

  Her dark eyes flashed. “I insist, Duchess. It is the only way you can protect your precious imperial family from the vampires.”

  “If the tsar is in danger, he must be warned!”

  “Your tsar, the Bear, believes that the king of Montenegro is his staunchest ally. We cannot go before him without proof. You must discover their treachery by befriending the Montenegrins. Or kill the crown prince yourself.”

  I wanted to remind the grand duchess that the Bear, as the peasants called Alexander III, was her tsar as well. But I held my tongue. Reluctantly, I took the book and hid it within the folds of my cloak, silently promising myself I would never open the foul thing or read one unholy word. There had to be another way to keep the tsar and his family safe.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  For weeks, I heard no news of the missing count Chermenensky, not from servants or family members. My brother appeared to have finally gotten over his friend’s death, and had returned to his raucous parties with fellow officers. Dr. Kruglevski had not seen any strange frostbitten patients with yellowed eyes and black fingernails. But he was seeing more patients who had been poisoned. Another maid from Smolny was currently resting in the women’s ward. And the doctor had identified the poison at last: hemlock. “It is the strangest thing,” he said. “I do not understand how so many people can be ingesting such a poison.”