Robin Bridges - The Morning Star

But I had to protect the tsar from Konstantin Pavlovich. In order to make sure all of Russia was safe, the lich tsar had to die the second death. I raised the Morning Star above his head, ready to deliver the final blow.

And I knew it would not bring George back.

If I killed Konstantin, I would be no better than he. I would have a heart blacker than the crown prince’s eyes, and my soul would be lost. I lowered the sword and wiped tears of frustration from my eyes.

I saw a spiral-shaped light wavering a little ways off from us. It was the tendrils of the crown prince’s cold light that I had dragged with me when I brought Konstantin back to the Graylands.

“Katerina, I am free. Protect the tsar and give Konstantin his second death. His heart will be judged much harsher than yours. Your heart has been judged and it is true.”

It was Danilo’s voice in my head.

“If I destroy Konstantin, will you be able to return?”

“While there is life, there is always hope,” he replied.

“But where there is death,” I thought painfully, “there is no hope.” I did not want to destroy Danilo’s chances of returning. But I had to believe I was doing the right thing.

Numbly, I raised the sword and recited the words of the ritual of the second death. “No sun shall rise over your grave. No birds will sing for you. Nothing but eternal rest waits for you, Konstantin Pavlovich.” The talisman around my neck felt warm. An icy chill slid down my spine, my cold light giving me strength as I swung the blade at Konstantin’s neck. His head tumbled to the floor, bloodless and eyes closed.

I saw Danilo’s cold light slowly fade away. “No!” I whispered. I felt like a monster. I let the sword fall from my hands, and it clattered to the floor. I had held some hope that even if I couldn’t save George, I would be able to save Militza’s brother. But he had disappeared as well, and now I had more sorrowful news to bring back from the Graylands. It made me not want to return to the land of the living at all.

Both Konstantin’s body and his head dissolved into bright cold light and then faded into the mist. There was nothing left of him or the crown prince. The lich tsar was gone; it was all over.

I picked up the Morning Star and stood slowly. What if I did not return to the land of the living? I did not belong with my family and friends anymore. George would not be there. And I could not stand the thought of facing his parents again. The look of grief on their faces had been too much for me to bear. I’d broken Nicholas’s heart. I did not want to see that I’d broken Xenia’s as well.

So I decided I would stay in the Graylands. The tsar did not need Katerina Alexandrovna anymore.

I wandered the halls of the Graylands for what seemed like hours, wary of the soft wisps of cold light that followed me down the dark corridors. I kept my own cold light reined in tightly and was careful not to touch the wisps. I did not want to interfere with any other beings anymore. The mist seemed to ebb and flow around me, but I never came across anyone else. None of the tsar’s mages came looking for me, nor did Militza.

I still had my mortal body in an immortal land, and I was growing tired. I would have to find a room to settle in, much like Ankh-al-Sekhem the Egyptian had. I shuddered, hoping I would not run into him here. But if he had survived the attack of the resurrected mummies, then he was still in his pyramid in Giza. He would not wish to return to the Graylands any time soon.

I discovered a beautiful, cozy chamber with golden mosaic tiles embellishing the door and its frames. The room was full of bookcases loaded with heavy books. A table was set with a bronze tea service and plates of sweet cakes. I suddenly realized I was famished, but I was reluctant to eat anything here.

There had been spells in A Necromancer’s Companion that requested nourishment for the dead. I’d seen hieroglyphics on the walls of the temple in Abydos that portrayed priests bearing gifts of food and drink and leaving it for the souls trapped in the afterlife. And the sweet cakes with their cardamom and vanilla did smell heavenly. It was as if they were waiting just for me.

A gold-embroidered satin cushion that was larger than the door itself stood up against one of the bookshelves. I placed it on the floor. Curling up with the Morning Star in my arms, I fell asleep for the first time in days. I slept a deep, dreamless sleep and felt at peace at last.

I awoke some time later. I had no idea how long I’d slept, but I felt much restored. I puttered around the chamber, looking at books and nibbling on some of the sweet cakes. I knew someone would be returning soon to these quarters, and whoever lived here was not likely to take kindly to a young girl invading their home in the land of the dead.

Reluctantly, I put the book of poetry that I’d found back on its shelf and tidied up. I was curious to know what kind of person this space belonged to. Male or female? Young or old? What had they done to earn this sort of cozy existence in the afterlife?

The heavy stone door began to slide open. I gripped my sword in alarm but hastily hid the Morning Star behind my back.

A brilliant glow of cold light preceded the person entering the chamber. I could barely make out the silhouette of a young man behind it. As the door shut, the glow dimmed, and I was able to see him more clearly. My heart stopped beating when he looked at me.

“Katiya?”

“George?”

No wonder I felt as if I’d come home.

George did not rush to take me into his arms. He actually looked unhappy to see me. “Katiya? What have you done?”

“What do you mean? You don’t know how happy I am to find you! I hadn’t even dared to look. I thought you were dead.” I reached for him and was hurt when he flinched.

“Katiya, I am dead. And if you are here in this Hall of the Fallen, you must be dead too.”

I shook my head. “I defeated Konstantin. I dragged him back to the Graylands and gave him the second death. And I realized I couldn’t face your parents again. I did not want to return to St. Petersburg without you.”

He reached up and touched my hair gently. “You are ridiculous. You chose to stay here? Alone?”

I nodded. “Can I stay here with you?”

He cupped my face in his hands and kissed me. My dead husband did not feel very dead at all. He felt very much alive. And his kisses lit my soul on fire.

Gently, George lowered me to the floor cushion. His lips never left mine as his fingers traced the curls in my hair and slid down my arms and around my waist. I stretched my arms around his neck, yearning for him.

“Katiya, are you sure you want to remain here?” His kisses trailed down my jaw and his hand played with my buttons.

“Where else would we go?” I asked. I did not want him to stop kissing me. My heart was pounding. My body shivered with fright and excitement.

He raised his head and looked at me. “You could take me home.”

“What are you talking about?” I asked.

He searched my face uncertainly. “Katiya, you do realize that you have the ability to bring me back.”

“But I saw your cold light disappear!” The thought that I might be able to bring him back to the land of the living filled me with hope. And a little fear. “I can’t bring you back as one of the undead, George. That would not be any kind of life for you. And it would break your mother’s heart.”

He was trying not to laugh. “Love, why is it that I have learned more about your necromancer powers than you have?” His fingers were tracing the collar of my regimental jacket, making it extremely difficult for me to pay attention to what he was saying.

“I was too busy trying to study medicine,” I said. “I didn’t want to know how to be a necromancer.” But I knew George had studied many schools of magic when he was in Paris. And he would have had a certain interest in learning about my powers.

“Katiya, if you want to go to medical school, I will still support you. We can live wherever we need to—Paris, Zurich, London. We’ll go to America if that’s what it takes.”

I shook my head. “I want to continue learning from Dr. Badmaev. His Tibetan medicine has a better chance of finding a cure for your sickness.” And since we were already married, what was the worst thing the tsar could do?

Exile. We could be sent away from Russia. Or the tsar might punish Dr. Badmaev for helping me and have him sent away. I’d have to convince the tsar that I was trying to save his son.

I looked at the grand duke more closely and realized his cold light had returned. It was still bright, betraying his delicate health, but it was there. That meant I could still save him.

I sat up straighter, pushing George back a little. “Your illness! Is it worse here in the Graylands?” Or had it disappeared? I didn’t dare hope.

George shrugged. “It’s no better, but I worry that the time spent here will affect it. I might be weaker if I return to the land of the living.”

I started to protest, but he knew what I was about to say. He put his fingers to my lips. “No,” he said. “I am willing to risk it. This is not a life, Katiya. What I’m doing here in the Graylands is just existing. I don’t want to stay here trapped for centuries like your Egyptian friend. I want a life with you. A family.”

I couldn’t help blushing as I thought of having a family with him. Of carrying George’s babies. I wondered, though, if our travels through the Graylands would alter our ability to have children. Princess Cantacuzene’s greatest regret as a vampire had been her inability to give Konstantin an heir. I understood now how she must have felt, and I felt her sorrow as my own.

“You must think me stupid for not coming to look for you immediately,” I said. “Will you ever forgive me?”

George shrugged as he smiled. “I was more worried for you, Katiya. I was safe here, away from Konstantin, and able to mend, while you had him engaged in battle. But I hated not knowing what was happening to you. And I hated not being at the battle with my parents.”

“You’ll hear the stories and legends for years, I’m sure.” I sighed. “And your parents will think me very stupid for telling them that you were lost. I never even had a chance to tell them we were married.” Which was probably for the best. And I’d had a reasonable excuse.

“Well then,” George said as he stood up and held out his hand to me. “Shall we?”

I paused. I couldn’t help thinking of Danilo and Mala. Perhaps they would be able to find each other somewhere beyond the Graylands.

I looked up at George and smiled. My beautiful boy. My husband. I gave him my hand. “Let’s go home.”

George had to teach me the ritual that would bring him back. It was similar to the one I’d used when Grand Duke Vladimir had been in the Graylands, but this time there was no enchanted throne. Instead, George showed me how to use the large mirror hanging at the end of the hallway—the same one Militza and I had used. Only Militza and I had both been alive when we’d traveled through the mirror.

George’s cold light had been almost completely severed from his body by Konstantin’s spell. But he’d managed a spell that had kept him hidden, even if barely alive, while he healed. He was still too weak, however, to call upon the Grigori to make a portal of his own.

“I can tell you the words to say, but I have no control over the cold light,” George said. “A necromancer can touch this light and manipulate it to overcome death. That is why you are able to walk between the two worlds so easily.”

I waved my hand in front of the mirror, scattering the mist, and focused on the place we needed to go: Gatchina. His parents would still be there.

The trip back to the land of the living did not hurt quite so much this time. Maybe it was because I was too giddy to pay attention. I was worried about George, though, and focused my cold light energy on making sure he did not drag behind. The ritual took its toll on him anyway. Pale and coughing, George emerged with me in the cold snowy gardens outside the palace. I grabbed him by the arms to support him. He felt warm and solid, but I still couldn’t believe he was back home with me.

“You’re shaking!” I realized. “Let’s get you inside.”