Robin Bridges - The Morning Star

“This Egyptian’s apprentice stole the Morning Star from his pharaoh’s tomb. He hid it somewhere and was killed by the Grigori before he had a chance to use it or to reveal where he’d hidden it. But his master knows where the apprentice is buried and how we can make his spirit talk to us.”

“Give me the talisman, necromancer,” the elderly man said, “and I will tell you everything.”

“Do you still think us fools, old man?” Danilo sneered. “Tell us where to find your apprentice and then we shall bring you the talisman.”

“What can he do with the Talisman of Isis here?” I asked, alarmed. I felt the amulet underneath my clothes, warm against my skin. I prayed the Egyptian necromancer could not sense its presence.

“Nothing,” Ankh-al-Sekhem said. “I desire it merely for sentimental reasons.”

I didn’t trust him, and I knew Danilo did not either. Ankh-al-Sekhem was dangerous, even if he looked frail huddled on the floor.

“What are in these scrolls?” I asked.

“Knowledge, Duchess,” he said, grinning a brilliant smile. “Which you are forever seeking. What price would you pay for this knowledge?”

I hesitated. There was only one thing I wanted to know: how to cure George from the magical wound the crown prince had given him. But I did not want Danilo to know he’d hurt the tsar’s son so badly. “What price do you ask?”

“Enough of this,” Danilo said. “We are not here for dirty scrolls. I have already read every one of these parchments of paper. There is nothing worth sacrificing your cold light over, Duchess.”

“Is that even possible?” I asked. “How can a necromancer use the cold light of another?”

“They cannot steal your cold light. It must be given freely. To receive another’s light makes the recipient much stronger.” Danilo put his hand on the small of my back. It was not a comforting gesture. It felt possessive. I shuddered with revulsion. I would never give my cold light to anyone willingly.

“We must have the sword, Ankh-al-Sekhem,” the crown prince said. “Once it’s in our possession, you will have all the cold light you desire. And the Talisman of Isis.”

“Perhaps I should come with you,” the ancient necromancer said as he rose to his feet.

“You must be mad,” Danilo said, laughing. “You have been dead for thousands of years.”

“She is very powerful,” the Egyptian said, nodding toward me, a sly grin on his face. “Powerful enough to bring me back.”

“But you would be a monster,” I said, horrified at the idea.

“Duchess, I am a monster now.” His grin was terrible. “Go to the temple pyramid in the desert where I am buried. Go and call me back. Or you will never get your precious sword.”

“No.” It was Konstantin’s cold, hard voice speaking through Danilo again. “You are a foolish man for thinking we would fall for your tricks. Tell us where your apprentice is buried, and we shall invoke his spirit. Once he tells us where the sword is, I will return to give you the talisman.”

“Perhaps I will keep your pretty necromancer here with me until you do?”

The crown prince rolled his eyes. “You know I would not allow that.”

I tried to hide my relief.

Ankh-al-Sekhem sighed heavily, as if he had known all along he would not get what he wanted. “The apprentice’s tomb lies outside of Cairo, near the pyramid of my lord Ramses. You can use the Graylands to reach it. Use this scarab to show you the way.” He held a small black stone carved in the shape of a beetle. He whispered words over it, so low that neither Danilo nor I could make them out. Suddenly the stone scarab spread out wings and took flight. “You must make haste,” the necromancer said, cackling. “It won’t slow down for you.”

I did not want Konstantin to have the sword. Could I keep it from him by preventing the return of the Egyptian? Could I prevent the French mages from finding the sword as well? Such a dangerous weapon did not belong in anyone’s hands. I did not trust the Grigori. And I could not trust Danilo, for it would not be long before the lich tsar had complete control of the crown prince.

“Let’s go,” Danilo said, his hand on my arm. “Remember to keep your cold light reined in, Katerina.”

“The more time you spend in the Graylands, the more you become like us,” Ankh-al-Sekhem warned. “Do not tarry long here, Duchess.”

“Do not worry about us, old man,” Danilo said. “We will return soon and you will have your talisman.”

We followed the scarab out of the necromancer’s room and back into the thick mist. The clouds mingled with the tendrils of the crown prince’s cold light, as well as my own. It grew harder for me to keep my light pulled in close. I tried to wrap it tighter around me like a cloak. “Ankh-al-Sekhem said it was dangerous to spend so much time in the Graylands,” I said to the lich tsar. “But you were here for decades.”

“Yes. But I was already dead, Duchess. You have only walked the Graylands as one of the living.”

“So it does not affect you? What about the crown prince’s body?”

“We are strong, your Danilo and I. Together we will be the most powerful tsar ever.”

“Why do you even want to be tsar?” I asked. I could not imagine someone desiring such a burden.

“I am a Romanov,” Konstantin said stubbornly. “I was destined to rule from my birth. My grandmother dreamed of re-conquering Byzantium and setting me upon the throne.”

“But she never intended for you to rule Russia.”

“I was the second son. She never expected my brother to die without an heir.”

“Nor did she expect you to marry a blood drinker or become a lich.”

He turned to me sharply and growled, “I would be nothing without Johanna!”

“You could have been tsar,” I said pointedly. And if he had, then my great-grandfather Nicholas would never have ruled. Nor would his son, Alexander the Second, or his grandson, Alexander the Third. “But you chose love over a crown.”

His arm shot out and his fist closed around my throat. “I chose the power of blood over the power of a crown. Do not think that I am weak or swayed by petty emotions. Yes, I loved Johanna. But I loved her because of the power she gave me. It was a pity I underestimated my younger brother.”

I stood very still, and he released his grip on me. He began walking again through the mist. I struggled to keep up with him. “Are you saying you would not have loved Johanna if she had not been a necromancer?” I asked.

He did not bother to slow down as he talked. We had to hurry or the enchanted scarab would leave us behind. “When I was just a boy, I thought I loved my first wife, the Saxe-Coburg princess. She was the beautiful girl Grandmother had picked to be my bride. I was infatuated with her. And she … she was infatuated with my elder brother.”

“But Alexander was married to Elizabeth Alexievna,” I said. As far as I knew, she’d been completely human and one of the most beautiful empresses who ever lived in St. Petersburg. She was also one of the youngest empresses, and the most naïve.

“Theirs was an unhappy marriage,” Konstantin said. “Just as mine was. Grandmother had picked the right brides for the wrong brothers.”

I could not believe I was having this conversation with the lich tsar. He sounded so vulnerable. So normal. “Do you mean to say that you and Elizabeth Alexievna …?”

“No.” The scarab had finally stopped and fell to the floor, lifeless again in front of us. “But she knew I cared for her. That was before I met Johanna.” He picked up the scarab stone and whispered something in Egyptian. A golden door appeared in front of us. He pushed it open. “Follow me.”

We entered a dimly lit room, which smelled of hot, dry air. And death.

We were inside a tomb. “Is this Cairo?” I asked. The mist had disappeared completely. We had left the Graylands behind. I had a horrible headache from the transition. Or perhaps it was from the heat.

“We are several miles outside of Cairo, actually. This should be the temple of Ankh-al-Sekhem’s apprentice. He served as a high priest under Ramses the Second and died in the Tenth Dynasty.”

“This is his tomb?” I glanced around at the brilliant gold-leafed paintings on the walls. Lit torches cast unholy shadows across them. An alabaster sarcophagus stood in the center of the temple. Hieroglyphics decorated all four sides, no doubt a curse upon whoever disturbed the apprentice’s grave.

I could not help shuddering. The crown prince drew a small knife from a scabbard inside his jacket. “Katerina, your assistance is required.”

I realized what he intended to do. “No. I will not let you take my blood.”

“Relax, Duchess. I do hope it will not come to that.” He laughed as he used the blade to break the wax seal on the sarcophagus. “You must help me lift the lid.”

“Must we open it?” I asked.

“Where else do you think the apprentice hid the sword? It is buried with him. I’m sure of it.”

Relieved he did not intend to resurrect the Egyptian, I helped him shove the heavy lid to the side. I took a torch from the wall and held it over the open sarcophagus, giving Danilo light to examine the body inside. The heat from the flames was oppressive in the tiny space.

The apprentice’s mummified body had been wrapped in linen that had long since dried in the arid desert climate. No gold ornaments adorned his body. The only thing of value buried with the unfortunate man was a scroll that was clasped in his calcified hand. The fingers broke off as Danilo pried the scroll out. He unrolled it and held it up to the light, his face first triumphant, then clouded with disappointment. “It is not here.” He threw the scroll to the floor and turned back to the tomb. He reached in and pulled at the linens. “The sword must be in here with him.”

“What does the scroll say?” I asked.

“It is rubbish. A prayer to the gods.” He pulled great frayed lengths of linen out of the sarcophagus. He was destroying the mummy. If the Egyptian authorities discovered us, we could be arrested. “What has he done with it?” Danilo shouted. “It must be in here!”

Thick black smoke began to pour out around the sarcophagus. The dim light the torch gave us was not enough to help see through the smoke. I was too frightened to move.

“Stupid Egyptian,” Danilo snarled. “Does he think he can frighten us with his tricks? Katerina, it’s merely levers and chemicals. A way to frighten off grave robbers. Pay no attention to it. Bring the light closer.”

I stepped toward his voice, finding him leaning over the sarcophagus. “Shine the light in here,” he said.

I held the torch over his head. There was nothing left of the mummy of Ankh-al-Sekhem’s apprentice except a pile of shredded linen at the bottom of the alabaster tomb. “There is no sword, Danilo.”

“Damn!” He banged the side of the sarcophagus with his palms and stared into the dark tomb for several moments before finally speaking. “Well, there’s only one other thing to do, then.” He drew out his blade again. “I will need your hand, Katerina.”

“Absolutely not.”

His sharp teeth gleamed as he smiled. “I’m afraid you have no say in the matter.” He grabbed my wrist and twisted it, wrenching my palm up. With a quick slice, he opened my palm, the blood rushing to fill the cut. My hand throbbed in pain.

Danilo closed his eyes as he raised my hand to his lips. “The strength of Isis, the heart of Isis, the power of Isis is mine,” he said.

As he drank my blood, I felt dizzy, and the room began to spin. The talisman around my neck grew warm.

A horrible moan, low and deep, rose out of the sarcophagus and grew into a screech. All of the black smoke in the room gathered in the center, creating a whirlwind. The smoke was being drawn back into the sarcophagus.

“What are you doing?” I cried as I pulled my hand out of Danilo’s grasp. “We must get out of here!”

“No!” the crown prince shouted. He glared at the smoke. “Apprentice! Show yourself!”

Out of the black smoke, the ancient Egyptian rose. No longer wrapped in the burial linens, he was little more than a shrunken corpse. There were no eyes in the sockets in his face, only black holes. But I could still recognize him. Ankh-al-Sekhem had tricked us. This had been his tomb. Not that of his apprentice.

The smoke turned into a swarm of insects, black moths and scarabs. I tried to shield my face with my arm.

“Konstantin Pavlovich.” The undead Egyptian’s voice was hoarse. “I will have my revenge upon you at last!” He reached for me with a cold, clawlike hand.