For the next few mornings, Maman was still feeling weak, so she stayed in bed. I was allowed to remain at home, missing the last days of classes before the Christmas holiday. Maman was resting when Princess Elena and her sisters came to pay a call. They were leaving that afternoon on the train back to Montenegro and had come to tell me goodbye.
"We're so sorry to hear about your poor mother," Princess Militza said.
"Was her ill ness sudden?"
"Oh, yes," I answered as they followed me into the sitting room. "Dr.
Kruglevski is taking excellent care of her, though."
"Has she never tried any of the Tibetan doctor's herbal medicines?" Militza turned to her sister as we all sat down. "Stana, what is his name?"
"Badmaev, I believe. He is wonderful. He cured the princess Orlova of her female hysterics."
I had heard of the Tibetan doctor. Although he had come to St.
Petersburg to study Western medicine and had received his medical degree, he also practiced his Far Eastern methods of healing. Dr.
Kruglevski had recommended some of his tonics for Maman but generally dismissed his healing methods as quackery.
Our servant brought in a tray of tea things. Stana and Militza sipped daintily from their teacups while Elena and I indulged in the sweet biscuits the cook had prepared.
"Oh, Katerina Alexandrovna, I envy you so much!" Elena said, abruptly changing the subject. "You shal be attending the opera and the ball et and all the wonderful Christmas parties here in St. Petersburg while I'm at home missing you terribly."
"Our brother shal be disappointed as well," Militza said. "Perhaps you would permit us to take him a lock of your hair, to show him what a beautiful golden color it is?"
"My hair?" I laughed nervously. "Why on earth would he be interested in the shade of my hair?" It wasn't truly golden, anyway, but more like a dull wheat color.
"We have told him all about you, and he is most anxious to meet you.
Elena already drew him a miniature of you in your Smolny dress. He was quite taken with it."
I bit my lip. "Indeed?" It was disturbing that Elena had been drawing pictures of me, and even more disturbing that she had mailed one across the continent to someone I'd never met before.
But a part of me, the silly girl, was actually pleased. Just because his sisters were witches did not necessarily make him evil, did it? Had I been too hasty to judge him before I met him? Still, I would not be so stupid as to willingly give my own hair to a witch.
"Of course he is, Katerina," Elena said. "Please let me take some of your hair to him, as a friendship token."
"My mother would be horrified," I said, trying to think up another excuse.
Militza smiled, but it was not a friendly smile. "Come, Elena. We must not frighten your poor friend with our own country's customs. They must sometimes seem barbaric to society here in St. Petersburg."
"Forgive me," I said, blushing. "I don't think it barbaric at all. I just ... My mother would think it improper. I have no wish to upset her when she is unwell."
As scared as I was to let them possess even one strand of my hair, insulting the Montenegrins terrified me even more. I was anxious for them to leave. I would feel much safer when they were miles away from St.
Petersburg.
Militza stood up, her two sisters following. "We have imposed upon you far too long, Katerina Alexandrovna. We must go to the train station soon, and we do have other goodbyes to make."
Elena embraced me. "You must write to me about the parties I am missing." She reached up, pulled a stray hair of mine off my shoulder, and grinned wickedly. "Look what I have found. Danilo will be able to see the color of your hair after all!" She tucked my hair in her handbag.
I fought the rising panic inside. Perhaps no harm would come of this. In fact, I prayed no harm would come of it.
Stana smiled. "Farewell, dear. We will certainly see each other again soon."
As I watched their sleigh drive off down millionaya Street, I grew worried.
How would I be able to protect myself from the Montenegrins' magic? I could not tell Maman everything I knew about the wicked princesses. I did not want her to grow hysterical once more.
I found my mother in her rose-scented boudoir, studying her deck of tarot cards. "Maman," I said with a sigh. "You'll get yourself worked up again." She waved a hand at me. "Don't be silly. I think it was Madame Marina's deck that caused me such discomfort. These are my own cards, from a gypsy woman in Biarritz. These have never lied to me." She pulled one card after another, carefully laying them in a cross-shaped pattern on her quilt.
Maman's cat Sasha glared at me from across the room. His scraggly gray tail twitched nervously. "What if Papa discovers your fortune-telling cards?" I asked.
It was Maman's turn to sigh. "I know he thinks it's nonsense, but I see problems for your father," she said, "and many obstacles and delays in his projects. Sometimes I can help him forestal them. These cards have been a boon to our household. Here." She laid down the Hanged Man.
It was best to humor her. "I thought the cards were telling you about me," I said as Sasha began to purr. "Where is my knight in shining armor?" Maman smiled at me. "I've already seen your future this morning. And my deck has told me that you're going to meet your handsome knight very soon, if you haven't already." She gathered up her cards and put them back in their silver-plated box. "Have I ever told you the story of the bogatyr?"
I shook my head, trying in vain to remember. "Is this another fairy tale?" Our library was full of fairy tale collections, from many different countries.
When I was little, I'd spent hours gazing at the beautiful illustrations.
"Yes, Katiya, but this one is very important. Long ago, the bogatyr was a very strong warrior-tsar who protected Russia from evil wizards. He also fought and killed a wicked dragon named Vladimir. The bogatyr lived for more than a hundred years, and it is said that he returns from time to time when Russia has need of him. But for him to return, the current tsar must pay a great price."
"A great price?" I asked.
"A secret ritual must be performed in order to transform the current tsar into the bogatyr," Maman explained. She took my hand in hers. "The reason I am telling you this is that I dreamed last night of the bogatyr's return."
"Why would Russia need him now?" I asked. "We're relatively at peace with all of Europe. Even Germany. Even Turkey."
"The bogatyr does not protect us only from our political enemies, but also from the forces of evil. The last time was in 1825, when my grandfather Tsar Nicholas defended us from the vampire uprising. Some kind of evil has returned, Katiya. I wish you could sense it as I do. There was a time, when you were younger, I truly believed ..." She looked away, out her window into the snow-filled garden below.
"Anyway, even if you cannot feel it, there is a great evil presence growing in St. Petersburg. We need the bogatyr to return and protect us. I believe the dream I had last night was a sign that he will return." Her eyes were bright, as if she was holding back tears. She squeezed my hand.
I didn't want to believe my mother's wild tale. "Vampires do not exist, Maman."
"Certainly not," Maman said. "Not since the uprising. The bogatyr banished them and their Dekebristi minions from St. Petersburg." I had a sick feeling in my stomach. I knew faeries and witches existed, as well as necromancers. What other monsters walked the streets of St.
Petersburg? What if the bogatyr believed I was the evil presence in the city? Would Maman have seen that in her tarot cards?
