The Unfailing Light

The next morning, I accompanied my father on his visit to the Oldenburg Hospital, where he needed to drop off some paperwork for Dr. Ostrev, Anya's brother. Dr. Ostrev had worked hard to fill Dr. Kruglevski's shoes at the hospital, but he was still young and did not have Dr. Kruglevski's years of experience. I knew my father missed his old friend even more than I did.



Dr. Ostrev looked weary. Gray hairs had already begun to invade his head. He shook Papa's hand warmly and bowed to me. "I hope you have had a blessed Christmas, Your Highness," he said to Papa. "My sincerest thanks for the books you sent."



Papa smiled. "Not at all, Doctor. I was hoping to discuss the latest on the new institute with you. We have highest hopes for our laboratory. Have you heard about Dr. Koch's experiments?"



"With tubercle bacilli. Of course."



"I am hoping he is close to discovering a cure."



"That would be wonderful news indeed."



Just as their conversation had grown interesting, they drifted into more mundane topics, such as administration and bureaucracy. One of the kind nurses took our coats and another entered the doctor's office with a tea tray. It was Sister Anna, from Smolny. She smiled sincerely. "It is wonderful to see you, Katerina Alexandrovna. Is your family well?"



"Yes, Sister. Do you spend all of your holidays here at the hospital?"



She nodded, folding her hands humbly. "Of course. It is the Lord's work. Would you like to accompany me on my rounds? I think it would be an enlightening experience for you, dear."



I'd followed the nurses around the hospital too many times to count. I knew everything they did, from bathing patients to feeding them and redressing wounds. And it was a noble job. I was very grateful for the work these tireless sisters performed. But I wanted to do so much more for the sick. I wanted to heal their diseases. I wanted to find cures for the worst illnesses. I wanted to perform surgery and prescribe medicine. To research and discover new medicines. With a smile, I nodded and took the stark white apron that Sister Anna offered me.



"A good nurse provides comfort for her patients, as well as cleanliness." The sister handed me a bowl of water and some clean rags. "We should start with the young man on the end, there. Captain Troubetsky."



The captain had been hospitalized after falling from his horse in a training accident. I could not help being reminded of Count Chermenensky. The young man shivered with a fever, and moaned in a restless sleep. He was in severe pain.



I took the captain's pale hand gently. I could see his cold light unwrapping, rapidly slipping from around him. The young man was dying. What if it had been Petya there in the bed? I would not let anything happen to him. Slowly, I uncoiled my own cold light and used it to grab hold of the young man's. I had to bind his cold light back to his body, or he would be gone. He moaned softly, and began to tremble.



I panicked. What was I doing? In all of my medical journals, Latin books, the literature of esoteric mysticism, I had never come across any sort of information that offered enlightenment regarding my dark ability. Princess Cantacuzene could have taught me, I'm certain, if I'd been willing to be her pupil. And Dr. Badmaev had hinted once before of a more academic, if unorthodox method of harnessing my powers. No matter how desperately I wanted to help this patient, I knew experimenting on him was dangerous. And very, very wrong. With a sigh, I placed his hand back on his chest. I crossed myself and said a prayer for mercy to be granted him. I took a wet rag and dabbed his forehead, hoping the fever would break soon.



His moaning increased. Sister Anna came over to the bed and poured out a teaspoon of laudanum for him. "Give this to the captain," she said, handing the medicine to me.



"Take this; it will help you rest," I said, coaxing the soldier to take the elixir. The thick green liquid smelled like anise, but he swallowed it without complaint. The patient fell back to sleep almost immediately.



"You would make an excellent nurse, Katerina Alexandrovna," Sister Anna said.



"That would be a waste of her talents," Papa said as he and the doctor reached the patient's bed. "She will be a brilliant doctor someday. Think of the discoveries she will make in her lifetime!"



Sister Anna scowled. " 'Tis not natural for a lady to learn such things. An overeducated mind is open to too many temptations."



"There are lots of women who have become wonderful doctors, Sister," I said.



"Witches and harlots," she hissed. Sister Anna grabbed the washrag away from me and began roughly wiping down the soldier.



Dr. Ostrev tried to spare me the older woman's lecture. "Will you see to the dirty linens, Sister Anna?"



"Of course, Doctor," she said, bowing graciously. With a swish of her skirts, she and the bundle of bed linens were gone.



"I apologize for that," Dr. Ostrev said. "But if you are serious about becoming a doctor, you must get used to hearing such sentiments. I knew a young woman from Odessa who gave up on her dreams because she couldn't bear the way the older nurses treated her as a young female doctor."



Papa looked at me and nodded. "He has a point, Katiya. Sister Anna is not the only one who will try to discourage you."



"I understand. It truly does not bother me," I said with a smile. But I wondered how long my dedication would last if I had to continually endure such negativity.



I took the basket of fruit that Maman had sent and followed Sister Elizabeth, who was much kinder than Sister Anna, into the women's ward. At the end of the long row of beds, I was startled to see a familiar but sad face: Madame Metcherskey. She had lost weight and looked even paler and more severe than before. I gasped.



"Poor dear," Sister Elizabeth said, straightening her blankets. Madame Metcherskey coughed, but did not open her eyes. "She has a failing heart. She is dying."



"Dying?" I whispered. I could not imagine anything ever striking down the indomitable and strong woman. This was not the same woman who had terrorized the girls of Smolny into studying their history. This was only a hollow shell of the woman she used to be.



Slowly, Madame Metcherskey opened her eyes, fixing her stare on me. Her wits were still with her. She recognized me immediately. "Katerina Alexandrovna. The troublemaker," she croaked.



When I took her cold hand in mine, her fingers clutched mine instantly. Her grip was still strong. "Madame. I'm so sorry for causing you such grief."



"Never mind about that." She tried to pull me closer to her. Her voice was raspy and hoarse. "Don't let the other girls repeat your mistakes."



"Which mistakes?" I whispered. Goodness knows I'd made too many over the years. Especially in her eyes.



"All light is not good, Katerina Alexandrovna," she said, letting go of my hand and closing her eyes. "And all shadows are not evil."



"Madame?" I looked up at the nurse in alarm as she checked Madame's pulse. "Is she dead?" I whispered. Her cold light was blinding white and stinging my fingers.



Sister Elizabeth shook her head. "She's just sleeping again."



Madame Metcherskey drew in a rattly breath just then, as if to prove to me it was true. Her breathing became shallow, but steady. Sister Elizabeth smiled kindly at me. "She needs her rest now, dear."



Madame's words frightened me. All light is not good. Could she have seen her own cold light? I'd never known anyone who was able to see it. But I'd never known anyone who was dying either. I reached down and gave Madame's fingers one last squeeze and left her to rejoin my father.



How much simpler my life had been years ago when Madame Metcherskey, glaring at me for running in the halls, was my worst nightmare. Now the nightmares were so much worse.