by Jane Kindred
I stared at Vasily, stunned, and he pushed me away. When he fell to
his knees and began to weep, I had no idea what to do. My face blazed
from the vulgar way he’d spoken to me, but I couldn’t tell whether it
was from indignation or shame. I also felt again that puzzling instinct of protectiveness. I knelt and put my arms around him, and he clung
to me and cried against my shoulder. I had never heard a grown man
weep, let alone a demon. The depth of his pain was almost unbearable.
“How could he leave me?” he whispered. “I was his again at last,
and he left me.”
“You’re the sweet return.”
Vasily lifted his tear-stained face. “I’m what?”
“The letter he left for me. He said he had only lost one wager in
his life, but it had finally yielded a sweet return. He meant you, didn’t
128 JANE KINDRED
he?”
The demon took off his spectacles, too splattered with tears to be
of any use, and was quiet for a bit before he sighed and began to wipe his eyes. “He’s gambling again. He’s up to something completely mad
if he thinks he can game the Seraphim. I don’t think he’d risk it if he thought there was an alternative. But it’s true; he never loses. And he never plays a hand he can’t win.” He smiled reluctantly. “His vice is
gambling. Mine is spirits. I’m afraid I’m insanely drunk.”
“Not insanely,” I said. “Perhaps approaching mild dementia.”
Vasily burst into full-throated laughter and punched me on the
arm. “Thank you. You’ve been very kind. And now if you’ll help me
up the stairs, I’ll sleep it off in my room and pretend I don’t remember any of this in the morning.”
Shortly after lying down, however, he became violently ill. The
home-stilled vodka hadn’t agreed with him. I tended him throughout
the night, helping him to the washroom when he could barely stand,
peeling his sweat-soaked clothes from him and pressing damp cloths
to his forehead when he trembled with fever, and at last crawling into bed to hold him while he shook with chills. With the heavy curtains
drawn, the illusion of night was there, though in reality the demon was weak and delirious and didn’t come fully to himself until nearly thirty-six hours later.
But before he did, I made a discovery. Gathering up his clothes to
put them in the wash, I noticed his boots behind the half-open closet
door and thought it odd he hadn’t left them downstairs on the rack.
I picked the boots up and saw an object tucked inside one of them,
deep in the toe. I glanced at Vasily to be sure he was sleeping, and
then pulled out a silk pouch the size of his fist. The pouch bore Ola’s stitchwork—and was full of celestial facets. This was the price for my safety.
Belphagor had told me facets were more valuable here than in
the Firmament. I could easily pay my fare to Lake Baikal with just a
few. I counted out a dozen, just to be safe, before tucking the pouch
back into the boot. If I left now, with Vasily delirious with fever, he’d never catch me in time to stop me. And I was certain he would try;
Belphagor had left his instructions, after all.
THE FALLEN QUEEN 129
And mine were to take care of Vasily.
He moaned in his sleep and tossed beneath the covers while I
tucked the facets into my pocket. The image of him weeping on his
knees twisted at my conscience. I could see him through his illness at least. I could wait just a little while longer before I left.
When he ceased his shaking and tossing, I fell asleep beside him,
and awoke sometime later to find him propped on his elbow watching
me.
“My angel of mercy,” he said with a sheepish smile.
“You’re better.” I sat up and wrapped my arms around my knees.
He shrugged. “I’ll take your word for it, since I can’t remember
how I got to the bed. I must have gotten a bad batch of vodka.” He
tugged at the corner of my shirt. “You’re not wearing your binding.”
I blushed and hugged my knees more tightly. “It was uncomfortable.
I’ll wear it when I go out.”
He lifted the sheet that covered him and then let it fall back into
place. “I seem to have nothing on at all. Did I do that, or did you?”
“I tended my brother when he was ill,” I said defensively. “You
have nothing I haven’t seen before.”
“Your brother!” He laughed. “Isn’t he… ?”
“Dead.”
His face paled. “Oh, Nenny, I’m sorry. I didn’t think. I was only
going to say ‘a child.’ Please forgive me.”
I closed my eyes and tried to put the images of that night out of
my head. I hadn’t seen Azelly, I reminded myself. I had not seen him.
“You’ve been so kind to me,” said Vasily. “Bel and I, we weren’t
kind. We treated you cruelly after such tragedy.”
“You didn’t know me. Kindness then… I think it would have
killed me. You did me a favor.”
“Nenny.” Vasily’s voice was stern.
I opened my eyes.
“We weren’t indifferent. We were cruel. Belphagor shaved your
head, for pity’s sake. I think it pleased us to see you so brought
down. We despised you for who you were.” He fingered one of the
curls starting to grow again at my temple. “We didn’t know, of course, what had happened, or exactly who you were, but we knew you had
130 JANE KINDRED
suffered, and we were glad of it. I’m not proud of that.”
I shook my head, not certain what to say. He didn’t need to tell me
any of this.
“Nenny—”
“Don’t.”
He pulled back his hand as if I’d bitten it.
“Don’t call me that, I mean. I know you mean to be kind. But it
was the name… ” My body trembled when I tried to speak. I couldn’t
utter Azel’s name, or Kae’s. My breath caught in my throat, and Vasily pulled me into his arms and held me as I’d held him in his grief.
“It’s all right,” he said. “Just tell me what you want me to call you.
If you prefer Malchik, we’ll leave it at that.”
I was tired of keeping a secret that he and Belphagor had surely
guessed. They knew I was a supernal grand duchess; which one was
fairly obvious. Still, the breath it took to say it seemed heavier than all the air in the world.
“My name is Anazakia Heli—” I squealed in surprise into the
hand he pressed against my mouth.
“Hush,” he whispered, and gripped me against him. “There are
things you mustn’t tell me.” He removed his hand, his expression
apologetic.
“Nazkia, then. Or is that still too much?”
Vasily smiled. “Nazkia.” He murmured it again. “Nazkia.” And
then he shocked me to my core by pulling me close and kissing me
as if he hungered for me. I’d stolen a kiss from a page once on a dare, but this was altogether different. It set the entire surface of my flesh tingling, like a current of elemental radiance. There was no mistaking the gesture for anything tender or brotherly.
He let me go, and I gaped at him, my face flushed. Vasily withdrew
his arms and pulled one nervous hand along the bearded frame of his
jaw toward the stubbled gap at his chin where he hadn’t shaved in two
days.
“Derrmo,” he breathed. “Nen—Nazkia. I swear to you, I did
n’t
mean to do that. It was just a reflex. I don’t know what I was thinking.”
He reached for his pants at the end of the bed and leapt out on the
other side to pull them on, facing away from me, but I’d seen his
THE FALLEN QUEEN 131
arousal. No child, indeed. Heat rose in my cheeks.
With his back to me, I also had a clear view of the marks
Belphagor had left on him, much more deliberate than I’d assumed or
understood. His flesh was scored with more than a dozen delicate and
perfectly placed welts. Only the bruised flesh blooming out around
them showed how deep they went.
When he’d finished buttoning, he faced me, his expression pained.
“Can we forget that happened? It won’t happen again.”
“I thought… ” I cleared my throat. “I don’t understand. You told
me Belphagor was—I thought you and Belphagor… ” My blush
deepened. “You said you weren’t interested in my ‘blossoms.’”
“I wasn’t. We are.” He cleaned the lenses of his spectacles against his jeans. “Belphagor is only attracted to men. I’m… less discriminating.”
He swallowed. “I misled you. It wasn’t intentional. I didn’t expect… ”
He rubbed his face and put his spectacles back on before continuing
in a calmer tone. “I don’t want you to fear me, Nazkia. Please believe you are absolutely safe with me. I would never harm you.”
“I wasn’t afraid.” I met his gaze for an instant and quickly looked
away. There was just the slightest hint of fire behind the muddy
blue of his eyes. “Does Belphagor know? I mean, that you’re ‘less
discriminating’?”
“The matter has never come up.”
§
Vasily made himself scarce after taking a shower, and I went
down to the garden after my own to distract myself from the cyclone
of thoughts in my head. I forgot myself in the pleasure of fresh earth beneath my fingers, and in the hum of bees and chattering of birds.
One lost a sense of time under the northern sun, and it wasn’t until I grew hungry that I realized how long I’d been in the garden.
Vasily had gone up to bed by the time I went in, and I retired quietly to mine after a snack of tea and biscuits. I had not yet learned to cook and was dependent upon the demon for anything more substantial.
I paused in pulling the curtains shut across my veranda. The light
of the summer night lay with a bronze sheen over the surrounding
countryside, as if the sun that loitered on the horizon had set the world on fire. I had never seen its like in Heaven.
132 JANE KINDRED
Beneath my binding, the locket felt hot against my skin. I reached
into my pocket and felt for the small stash of facets, touching the hard edges, reminding myself of their possibility. My lips still tingled at the memory of Vasily’s unexpected kiss. What might happen if I stayed? I
could be halfway to Moscow before he woke.
I crept out quietly, leaving the door open just a crack to avoid the
click of the latch, and carried my boots until I was well away from the windows. Years of practice sneaking out to play the tables in Raqia
made my caution second nature. Beyond the path at the end of the
garden, a road that had once been paved but not maintained led
farther into the trees, but I was certain it was the right direction.
After walking a great deal longer than I remembered the road
to be, I came out of the trees at last into a clearing on the stunning green banks of a wide river. Its water was as blue as any ocean, a
glittering ultramarine. The colors blurred together, the bright blends of a fantastic painting under the amber haze of subarctic summer
midnight.
I stood mesmerized by the sparkling movement of the water for
some time before turning to retrace my steps and head back toward
the highway. Less than a dozen feet away, Vasily stood staring at me,
hands on his hips.
“Oh, no, you will not. Just because I felt bad about the way we treated you doesn’t mean you’re free to go off wherever you please.
Belphagor told me to keep an eye on you, and that’s what I intend to
do.”
I resisted the urge to stomp my feet in childish frustration. No
matter how carefully I slipped away from them, the demons always
found me. I’d never had such terrible luck sneaking out of the palace.
“Do you do everything Belphagor tells you to do?”
Vasily raised a rather wicked eyebrow but said nothing. I sighed
and walked back to the dacha without a word.
“Just where did you think you were going?” he demanded when
we arrived at the garden gate.
“Nowhere. Just out for a walk.” I reached for the gate, and Vasily
grabbed my arm.
His firm grip softened when I frowned at him. “Walking again—
THE FALLEN QUEEN 133
why, because I kissed you? Because I’ve made you uncomfortable?”
I continued to stare at him, and he let go of me.
“No.” I scowled. “Maybe. I don’t know.”
We returned inside, and the demon broke out another bottle of
vodka. I was surprised he had no aversion to it after the last one had made him sick. I slumped into one of the embroidery-upholstered
chairs, sulking over my near-escape.
Vasily shook his head and poured me a glass. “Do you realize that
just by going outside, you’re putting the civilians here in danger?”
I kept my head down and took a sip of the drink he’d given me.
“If one of them were to see you, and the Seraphim got the idea
they might know where you were… ” He pushed his glasses up the
bridge of his nose and gave me a significant look.
I sighed, hating to be reminded of it. “How did you know I was
gone?”
“I couldn’t sleep.” Vasily poured a taller glass and sat opposite me.
“Guess I’d done enough of it already. I heard you the moment you
went out the gate.” He drank his vodka like it was water. “So are you
going to tell me what you were up to?”
Already becoming warm and relaxed after a few sips, I looked into
my glass. Perhaps I should tell him of my hope—no, my conviction—
that Azel was alive. Perhaps Vasily would even help me. Belphagor
wouldn’t like it. He’d tell me to keep such information to myself. But Belphagor wasn’t here. I swallowed the heat of my drink, prepared to
tell Vasily everything, but he spoke once more, apparently taking my
hesitation for a refusal to answer.
“It doesn’t matter if you tell me or not. I know what you were up
to.”
My chest tightened.
Vasily leaned forward and topped off my glass before refilling
his. “If you think you’re going to throw yourself in the river on my
watch, you’d better think again.” He pointed his glass at me, and liquid splashed over the rim. “If I have to put a lock on your bedroom door
to keep you from doing something stupid, I will.” Vasily drank again,
once more draining the glass. “I’m no Bel with the locks, of course. I’ll use keys. And I’ll wear the keys around my neck, so don’t think you
134 JANE KINDRED
can take them while I’m sleeping, either.”
“How would I take the keys from you if I’m locked in my room?”
He poured another glass. This time he spilled as he poured, the
drink obvio
usly having dulled his senses. “Bel is really good with
locks,” he said, not listening to me. “He’s very good with his hands.”
His voice became even more gravelly than usual with drink. “Best in
Raqia. That’s why he’s the one with the portal.”
I stopped with my glass halfway to my lips. “The portal? Why?”
“The spell for the portal is very, very tricky. Bel’s tricky. Bastard.”
The spell for the portal. Of course there would be a spell. Such a doorway could not be left unguarded; the world of Man might overrun
Heaven. What a fool I was. It hadn’t even occurred to me I might need
a spell to get back in. If Vasily hadn’t stopped me, I might have traveled all the way to the gates of Heaven only to be locked out by peasant
magic. I cursed myself silently, fretting over this complication while Vasily continued to ramble.
“And now he’s up to more tricks.” Staring at his drink, the demon
shook his head. “I don’t think he knows what he’s gotten himself into.
The Seraphim… they’re not just after you.”
I frowned, my train of thought interrupted. “What do you mean?
What else are they after?”
“I think they’re after me.” Vasily poured the last of the vodka into
his glass. “I… fell in with a bad crowd.” He tilted his drink toward me with a knowing nod. “Social Libationists.”
“Social what?”
He leaned toward me and whispered loudly. “Revolutionaries.
That’s what comes of hanging out with angels. Not you. I mean student
angels. Angel students. Zevliuliuns.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Zevulans?”
“Mm.” He took a healthy swig. “Them too.”
I stifled the urge to laugh. The universities at Zevul, Papa had
always said, were full of “high ideals and temporary zealots.” No
one took such talk seriously. I pondered the more tangible problem
of getting back into Heaven, mulled it over my drink, and at last
determined I’d have to take Vasily into my confidence. There was no
other way.
THE FALLEN QUEEN 135
“I wasn’t going to jump in the river.” I took a deep breath. “I was
going to find my brother.” I looked up to see Vasily slumped in his
chair, his head nodding and his eyes closed. I grabbed his empty glass before it could fall out of his hand.
Taking a blanket from the cedar chest that served as a tea table, I
