When it was time to take Tamara’s gown off, the priest beckoned me to bring her forward and place her in the silver baptism font. It was the same antique bowl that both my brother and I had been baptized in years ago. I lowered the naked child into the cold water, and her pink face turned red with a heathen howl. I could see her cold light wrapped around her like a soft, hazy cocoon. Tamara Rudolfovna would have a long, healthy life, it appeared.
The priest blessed her and poured the holy water over her head. I lifted the wriggling, unhappy infant from the water and wrapped her in the clean white linen Anya held out. The white “garments of light” symbolized her new life. The priest’s assistants rang bells and chanted while the priest anointed Tamara’s head with holy oil.
Her howls had subsided, but her body still shook with indignant sobs. The sweet baby awakened a new feeling inside me. It had occurred to me with shock that Lyudmila was younger than I and was already a wife and mother. What kind of mother would I be?
This led to another thought: What kind of father would George be? I blushed and glanced around quickly, relieved to see that no one was paying attention to me. Everyone was watching Tamara.
Anya, standing at my side, now took the baby and dressed her in the Ostrev family’s white hand-embroidered baptismal gown and the white lace cap that Lyudmila had tatted herself. Suddenly, I was conscious of an emptiness in my arms. I wanted to hold the warm, sweet-smelling bundle again.
The ceremony was soon over, and I followed Anya and Papa and the rest of the party out into the parlor, where Lyudmila scooped baby Tamara up in her arms. Maman was drying her eyes with a handkerchief and ran to embrace me. “Oh, my darling, I was just thinking how soon it will be your baby in our family chapel receiving such a blessing!”
I pulled away from her and laughed lightly. “Not for years, Maman.”
“Oh, I do hope Madame Marina’s prediction was wrong. The gypsy woman told me years ago I would never have grandchildren.”
“Maman, either Petya or I will certainly prove Madame Marina wrong.” I squeezed her hands and left her to seek out Dariya, who was now holding the baby and smiling. She looked happy. I decided to leave her in peace as well and took a steaming cup of tea from the elaborately laid table in the dining room and walked over to the window. The late-afternoon sun was sinking, and the shadows from the houses along Millionaya Street were stretching across the Neva River. I saw people and carriages hurrying across the bridge. A shadowed figure in a long black coat caught my eye as he wandered toward the Summer Garden.
“Katerina … I must speak with you.”
I closed my eyes and leaned my head against the glass, sighing heavily. “What do you want, Danilo?”
“St. Petersburg is not safe for you. You must leave immediately.”
Had the lich tsar finally returned? A cold fear settled in my stomach. If Konstantin was here now, the tsar needed to know. After Alix had warned the Light Court of Danilo’s visit to the ballet, St. Petersburg had been under increased security. But everyone had been holding their breath, waiting for the moment when the lich tsar made his move.
“Meet me in the park.” Danilo’s voice was pleading and insistent.
“No. You must leave, Your Highness.” I would not be safe anywhere near the crown prince. I was no fool. I turned away from the window.
The crown prince’s voice fell silent in my head, and I brought a plate of sweets to Papa, who was standing in the hallway with Tamara’s father. They both looked grave.
“Thank you, dear,” my father said when I handed him the plate. “Dr. Ostrev tells me there has been an increasing number of walking dead seen in St. Petersburg.”
Startled, I looked from Papa to the doctor. “Do the tsar’s men know?”
Dr. Ostrev nodded. “Two more were brought to the hospital last night. Dr. Bokova is certain they were not members of the Order of St. Lazarus.”
I swallowed. This meant these creatures were not under my control. Several times a month, the Koldun had me return to Vorontsov Palace to hold the Talisman of Isis and use it to issue general orders for the creatures. They could only be controlled by me, through the power of the Talisman, which was another reason why the tsar did not relish the idea of my leaving for Zurich. He wanted to keep both his personal necromancer and his personal army of undead soldiers reined in closely.
“Does this mean there is another necromancer in St. Petersburg?” I asked with a shudder. A cold dread filled my belly. There was only one other necromancer that I knew of: Princess Johanna Cantacuzene. And she was dead. Wasn’t she?
Papa frowned. “There can be no other explanation, can there? You don’t think they could still be your creatures, do you, Katiya?”
“Mon Dieu, no!” With the help of Dr. Badmaev, I had finally learned how to control my powers so that I would no longer create any more undead accidentally. I had most assuredly not raised anyone from the grave on purpose.
“I will see if the Koldun knows anything, then,” my father said. “Katiya, will you tell your mother that I am headed to Vorontsov Palace?”
“Do you want me to join you?” I asked, only half hoping he would say yes. What if George had returned to St. Petersburg? I was not ready to face him yet.
“No, my dear,” Papa said, caressing my cheek and giving me a kind smile. “The Koldun can take care of this without you. If necessary, he will ask the tsar and the empress to return from Fredensborg early.”
I did not bother to tell Maman why Papa was going to the palace. She would hear from Militza soon enough if any blood drinkers were involved. Maman was too busy fussing over baby Tamara to pay any attention anyway.
“Katerina, join me outside in the park.”
Danilo’s voice was back, and it was insistent. “Leave me in peace,” I thought irritably. I rubbed my temples, wishing I could steal up to my bedroom for a nap.
“Katerina, I will not leave until I speak to you.”
“We are speaking, Your Highness,” I thought sarcastically.
But Danilo would not be put off. “I will stay here in the park until you come out of your house. It is imperative that I see you.”
“Why?” But he refused to answer. Tired of arguing, I flung a cloak around my shoulders and went outside to find him. I told myself I would stay within view of the guards at our front gate.
“Ah, my necromancer,” Danilo said, standing as I approached him. He had been sitting on a bench surrounded by a cluster of birch trees in the Field of Mars. It was getting late in the fall, and the trees were almost completely bare. I hoped the Betskoi House guards would still be able to see me.
“I am not your necromancer,” I said with a tired sigh. “Please, say what you have to say so I can return to my family.”
He took my hand in a swift but elegant move before I could step back. He held my palm up, the same palm he’d drank from several months ago at Smolni. Alarmed, I tried to pull my hand away.
“Shhh,” he said, caressing my hand lazily.
I was both revolted and excited at the same time.
“I am not going to take your blood here, Katerina. But I must drink soon. I am growing too weak to fight the lich tsar’s pull any longer.”