The Unfailing Light

It was not long before the end of the holidays was upon us. I was to return to Smolny the day after the Blessing of the Waters, an annual tradition that brought all of St. Petersburg to the frozen Neva River. Since it was to be my last day of freedom, I planned to make the best of it. I dressed warmly, with an extra layer of stockings and petticoats under my woolen dress. Anya looked at me suspiciously as she fixed my hair. "Don't go looking for any danger, Duchess."



"I promise I'll be careful, Anya. But there are some things I must take care of before I go back to school."



I rode with Maman in our handsome black carriage. Papa and Petya would be there already with their respective regiments. This was a military as well as a religious ceremony, where the tsar cut out a piece of the frozen Neva River and lifted up a cup of water from below for the metropolitan of St. Petersburg to bless. There would be thousands of people there, and I hoped for a chance to slip away without Maman realizing I'd left.



The sky was gray and mournful, as if in memory of the tragedy surrounding last year's blessing, when Count Chermenensky had been thrown from his horse. Every year we prayed the running of the troops would be free of accidents. I worried most for my father and brother.



Aunt Zina and Dariya were waiting under a fur-lined tent that was close to the Imperial Pavilion. I did not see George standing up there with his family. My heart sank a little. I wanted to ask him about the current leadership of the Order, and wasn't sure who else would know. The membership of the Inner Circle of the Order was a closely guarded secret. Not all of St. Petersburg was aware the Koldun existed.



Aunt Zina waved to attract Maman's attention. Thousands of troops were assembled smartly across the river, their horses stomping in the snow impatiently.



"Hurry!" Aunt Zina called. "The ceremony is about to start!"



I could see Grand Duchess Miechen standing opposite the empress under her own pavilion, draped in midnight-blue silk. She did not usually attend the blessing. I wondered what had drawn the Dark Court to make an appearance on such a dismal and cold day? Grand Duke Vladimir, the grand duchess's husband, and brother to the tsar, stood with her. His steely gray eyes looked colder than the frozen river.



I shivered as the grand duchess's gaze swept across the crowd, and she caught my eye with a small, regal smile. I wished with all my heart that I could swear total allegiance to the Light Court and rid myself of my debt to Miechen. But my family would still have ties to her court, and I could not leave them unprotected. Bitterly I wondered how different my life would have been if my parents had been aligned with the Light Court all along. It was no use wishing, however. I did not believe in fate, but somehow, I knew my life was following some dark design.



I touched Maman's shoulder. "There is an old friend I must greet." I slipped back into the crowd, not bothering to wait for a reply. She would worry, and I would get into trouble, but the Dark Court has a saying: It is easier to ask forgiveness than to ask permission.



I hurried through the crowd, pushing against the townspeople that crowded the riverbank hoping for a glance at the tsar. Some looked at me as if I were insane, trying to get farther away from the Imperial Pavilion. Others ignored me, and pressed closer.



I broke into a run when I reached Nevski Prospekt. My destination was not far away: Lazarev Cemetery. I had my respects to pay. I spent the last of my Christmas coins on a small bouquet of violets from a street vendor and entered the cemetery. Even the crunch of the snow beneath my boots did not disturb the peace I felt as soon as I passed the cemetery gates. The trees were barren, of course, but the tombs were still difficult to read. It had only been a few months since Dr. Kruglevski's funeral, but it seemed to me like a lifetime had passed since then. I made my way to his grave and brushed the snow aside to lay the flowers there. I crossed myself and said a short prayer for my old friend.



"You still feel responsible for his death, do you not, Duchess?"



I jumped up, startled. I had not seen anyone else in the cemetery. "Dr. Badmaev." I curtsied, shaken by the way the Tibetan doctor seemed to have appeared out of nowhere.



His face was kind. "It was not your fault, Your Highness. It was the doctor's fate to die on that day. Vampire or no."



"But I should never have left him alone with Princess Cantacuzene. I was the only one who knew how dangerous she really was." The only one besides Grand Duchess Miechen. And Queen Milena of Montenegro.



"Let go of the guilt, Duchess, or it will keep you its prisoner. Dr. Kruglevski would not have wanted that. What do you think he would have wanted you to do?"



I smiled sadly as I idly rearranged the flowers. "He would have expected me to attend medical school and become a brilliant doctor."



"But the tsar will not let you leave the country." The Tibetan doctor stood calmly with his hands clasped in front of him. The cold did not seem to bother him in the least.



"How do you know this?" When he showed no hint of replying, I sighed. "Of course not." Despite what George had told me back in August, the tsar did not believe in women becoming doctors.



"There are other paths of medicine, Duchess, that do not require the tsar's permission."



I looked at him skeptically. "What do you mean?"



"I am offering you the opportunity to learn the secrets of Eastern medicine. Become my pupil. I have seen your gift, and I believe you would become an excellent doctor."



I laughed bitterly. "My gift is unholy. I could not routinely return the dead to life. It would not be right."



He shook his head with a smile. "I did not mean your dark ability. I know there are many who would use your gifts for unholy purposes, but I speak of your healing ability. It is related to the other, with your gift to see cold light, but it is important on its own. There are always two sides of every coin, Duchess. Light and dark. Day and night."



"East and West?" I asked, and he nodded. "I'm sorry, but Eastern medicine consists of folk medicine and herbal remedies. I need to study the most modern research. Western medicine is more effective. One way or another, I must go to Zurich one day and become a proper doctor."



His smile was still kind. "I will not withdraw the offer, Duchess. Come and visit me when you are ready to unite both sides of your own nature." With a polite bow, Dr. Badmaev left me standing in the cemetery.



I was ashamed. I had insulted not only the man, but also his own country and beliefs. Even his own education, which I was certain had been just as intensive as Dr. Kruglevski's. But if I wanted to earn the respect of other doctors, I would need a respectable degree. One day.



I shivered and drew my cloak around me more tightly. It was time to return to my mother. I took one last glance at Dr. Kruglevski's grave before leaving him. What if I'd used my dark gift to bring him back? He would have been a monster, like Count Chermenensky. To bring someone back like that was not a kindness.



But what if I could find a way to perfect my gift? Retrieve someone from the dead and restore them to their previous life? Would it be possible? Would it be right? To defy the natural order of things would be unholy. Wouldn't it? To deny the dead their eternal rest was a blasphemy. Would God have mercy on my own soul when my life was over? I was filled with dark thoughts as I hurried back through the cemetery.



The Tibetan had caused me to question my own motives for becoming a doctor. Was it truly a desire to help people or to express some suppressed desire to tamper with death? Perhaps my heart did belong with the Dark Court after all. Because it appeared to me that I certainly did not have a soul.



I hurried back through the cemetery only to stop and stare in shock as I saw a fresh grave, with several frost-covered bouquets wilting on top.



NATALIA MAXIMILIANOVNA METCHERSKEY



BELOVED TEACHER AND FRIEND



31 JULY 1819-30 DECEMBER 1889



Beloved? I shook my head. I wondered who had ever loved this brittle and coldhearted woman. Madame Metcherskey had always been nasty to me, as well as to the rest of the girls at Smolny. Still, I felt bad about her passing. I crossed myself and said a short prayer for her before continuing on.