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“Your Imperial Majesty! We come to serve you!” the Montenegrin king shouted as he ran toward us. He had arrived in a carriage with Danilo. Queen Milena stepped out of the carriage after them, looking pale, with a bandage wrapped around her neck. She had been fed upon. No doubt by both father and son.

I did not see Militza, who must have been using all her shaky new influence to keep the vampires out of the fight. Or perhaps she feared losing control of them if they saw Konstantin.

The tsar barely acknowledged the Montenegrin king, who took a position safe behind his wife. The tsar raised his sword high and glared at Konstantin the Deathless. “No blood drinker will ever sit on the throne of Russia,” he declared.

The tsarevitch and the grand duke held their swords ready. I was frightened for them as well. The silver wolf kept close to the tsarevitch, fangs bared.

Danilo stood smiling, an evil gleam in his eye. He did not bother to raise his sword as an undead soldier advanced toward him.

Queen Milena muttered some kind of incantation under her breath and the undead soldier fell to the ground, motionless. The queen turned toward me with a vicious smile. I knew no incantations to fight with. Except the spell of shadows. My gift of necromancy would be no help on this battlefield. I shuddered.

A low rumble alerted me that we were about to have company. The undead soldiers were closing in on us. “George!” I shouted, praying that protocol infractions were forgivable in the middle of a life-or-death battle. “The undead!”

The undead soldiers trampled toward us. I wanted to cry when I saw the poor creatures, but I knew they shared no such human compassion. They were intent on feeding and were under the control of the false tsar.

“KILL THEM ALL!” Konstantin Pavlovich snarled, adding what sounded like a spell in an ancient language. He was locked in combat with the true tsar, who, although larger and stronger than the lich tsar, was not as fast. Konstantin had already drawn first blood, piercing the bogatyr’s shoulder.

One of the undead tried to pull me away from the fight. It was Prince Demidov.

With a feral growl, he lunged for my throat. His foul breath almost made me gag.

Queen Milena lay on the ground, too weak to get up after expending all her powers, but she smiled as she watched me struggle with the undead prince. She drew something out of the bodice of her gown. It was the Talisman of Isis, which hung around her neck.

I kicked and threw the undead prince off balance. He let go of me only for a moment, but it was enough for me to move out of his reach. I started toward the queen.

Her eyes narrowed, and she whispered something in an unfamiliar language. Two more undead soldiers marched toward me.

My heart pounded in my throat. I realized I was going to die. In a most horrible fashion.

The two soldiers suddenly stopped, and their heads became curiously detached from their bodies. Behind them I saw George Alexandrovich, holding a bloodied sword. “Get the talisman!” he shouted at me.

I did not have time to thank him for saving my life. I ran toward the queen again and we rolled in the dirt. I was hurting, and my dress was filthy, but I did not care. I did not want to touch the tainted talisman, but I couldn’t leave it in Queen Milena’s hands.

“Foolish girl, you will destroy everything!” she spat. “The Romanov court will never accept you! Your place is with us!”

“I would rather die,” I said, prying the talisman from her bloody fingers. I was about to damn myself. To accept the darkness I’d struggled against all my life. In order to save the tsar.

I held the talisman high over my head and shouted as loud as I could, “The blood of Isis, the strength of Isis, and the power of Isis is mine!”

A chilly wind roared in my ears. It seemed to rise inside of me, threatening to overtake me. I closed my eyes and concentrated on the talisman in my hands. When the roaring stopped, I opened my eyes.

Slowly, the undead soldiers in front of me laid down their weapons and turned their pale faces to me. All kneeled, rather wobbly, on one knee.

It didn’t stop all the undead, but I was safe for the moment. I turned to see if I could help the tsarevitch and his brother. The wolf was ferociously defending both of them. Snarling and snapping, it tore through the vampire who attacked the tsarevitch from behind.

“THIS IS NOT OVER!” Konstantin the Deathless shouted. Fangs bared, he charged the bogatyr with his sword. The bogatyr anticipated him and stepped back, unbalancing the false tsar. But Konstantin took the bogatyr down with him.

The cold light surrounding Konstantin grew larger. The bogatyr struggled stoically, but I knew he was suffering from the cold touch of the deathless tsar.

Both sons of the bogatyr were fighting another wave of undead soldiers. King Nikola and Crown Prince Danilo were protecting Queen Milena from three more of the Dekebristi. No one was able to help the bogatyr.

I watched Konstantin’s cold light wrap around the bogatyr. It was draining his soul.

I wanted to scream. The talisman had not affected Konstantin at all.

But shadows could destroy light.

Even a cold light.

“Sheult Anubis,” I said, the sick feeling of dark magic beginning to rise in my stomach.

Nothing happened at first. The bogatyr and Konstantin continued to struggle.

“Sheult Anubis,” I repeated, a little stronger this time as the shadows began to close in around me.

I spoke the words a third time and concentrated on pushing the shadows toward Konstantin.

It was a weak effort, but the shadows distracted him just long enough for the bogatyr to roll away and stand again. Konstantin was caught off guard as the bogatyr charged him.

He slipped in a puddle of blood and slid toward the Montenegrin queen. King Nikola pulled his wife out of the way.

The bogatyr pointed his sword at Konstantin’s neck. “Yield, blood drinker.”

“NEVER!” Konstantin spat.

The bogatyr drew back his sword to deal the death blow.

The false tsar laughed. “This is not the end, Alexander Alexandrovich. The throne of Russia belongs to me!”

A chilling wind blew and the ground began to shake. I could barely stand up, but Nicholas Alexandrovich held out his arm to assist me. Then, suddenly, the wind disappeared, taking Konstantin the Deathless with it.

The bogatyr swore disgustedly as his sword came down with a heavy clang upon nothing but dry earth.

“What the devil?” the tsarevitch said.

“Konstantin!” the bogatyr roared. But the false tsar was gone. An eerie silence fell across the churchyard.

“Is it over?” I asked.

The bogatyr’s gaze swept across the bloody field. With a satisfied grunt, he nodded and sheathed his sword.

I heard a weak voice calling out. “Mistress …”

It was not Count Chermenensky, but Prince Demidov. I found him lying in a tangled heap, his left arm sliced off. I was nervous approaching him, but he was under my control now, thanks to the talisman.

Gently, he held something out to me. “He lived to serve you, Mistress.”

I stepped back with a cry. It was Count Chermenensky’s head in the crook of his right arm. The undead count had been killed while trying to protect me.

George Alexandrovich was at my side immediately and put his hand on my arm to steady me. “He served his mistress well,” he said. It took everything I had not to faint. I could not stop the tears from rolling down my cheeks.

The grand duke bent down and clasped the undead prince’s remaining hand. “This war is not over yet, friend. We ask that you lead the other undead soldiers and fight for Russia against Konstantin the Deathless.”

Prince Demidov nodded and stiffly saluted the grand duke. “If the mistress wills it, it shall be done.”