But I don’t want to . . . The thought felt like the plaintive cry of a tired child to Ruxandra. She did not want to face Ishtar, did not want to admit that she might be wrong about the angel.
“I know how hard it is to trust her after what she did to you,” Kade said. “And that it will be harder still to change your mind. I know this. For me, please do this.”
Kade took off his great cloak and held it out.
“Under this, the sunlight cannot hurt you,” he said. “Go to her right now. It will show her you are serious. Sit with her and speak with her. You will realize that what she offers is the best chance to give purpose to our existence.”
Ruxandra’s spirit rebelled against the idea. Everything in her screamed NO.
“What if I don’t need someone to give me purpose? What if I’m fine with making my own?”
“What’s your purpose, Ruxandra?” he asked softly.
She shrugged. It wasn’t something she had words for. Living her own life, doing harm only to those who deserved it; it seemed like enough to her . . .
But the look on Kade’s face—earnest and filled with purpose—made Ruxandra reach for it. She stood and wrapped the cloak around her.
“All right,” she said. “I will talk to her. But I am not making any promises.”
Kade walked Ruxandra to the door, kissed her lightly on the lips.
“That is all I ask,” he said. “She is in the Kremlin.”
Ruxandra opened the door. Even with shade, the sun felt too bright. The light reflecting off the buildings was nearly blinding, and every color felt too intense to look upon. Still, she wrapped the cloak tight around her, pulled the hood over her head, and stepped out into the street.
He had better be right.
The walk to the Kremlin gates took only moments. They stood wide open. Guards, posted on either side, watched everyone coming in or out. Ruxandra went unnoticed and strode between them.
The same force that sent Ruxandra flying before sent her flying again. She hit the ground rolling and swearing. Sunlight hit her face for the briefest of moments, making it blister.
Stupid human magic.
She stood away from the wall, hissing in pain until the blisters went down. Then she turned noticeable and walked up to the guards. “Is there someone who acts as messenger at your post?”
“Nico,” said one. “But the messengers are for military business.”
“Fetch him,” Ruxandra commanded. “Now.”
Nico—a stripling of fourteen—came running. She commanded him and watched him run off through the gate, envious of how easily he passed. Ruxandra found a patch of shadow and stood in it.
The guards’ breath turned to clouds of white steam as they left the men’s mouths. The people walking by looked grim, as if they could better face the winter by being angry at it. And even though they were all cool, Ruxandra was overheating. Even in the shade, she could feel the sun, like an iron fresh out of the forge coming too close to her flesh.
Hopefully it won’t take so long that I must move to stay out of the sun.
Half an hour later, Alexi strode through the gate. Ruxandra growled under her breath in frustration.
“Princess Ruxandra.” He bowed. “I am surprised to see you this time of day.”
“I’m surprised to see you at all,” Ruxandra said.
Alexi offered her his arm. “Ishtar asked that I escort you to the library.”
“Fine.” She let him trap her arm in his and walked with him. To her surprise they walked away from the gates, toward the outer city. “Would not the armory be a faster way to get there?”
Alexi rubbed his cheek and looked away. Ruxandra watched his discomfort and waited.
Finally he shrugged and said, “It is not possible for you to enter the Kremlin right now. Nor in the near future, I suspect.”
“Why?”
“Because Anna wanted it warded against you.”
“It was already warded.”
“Against vampires,” Alexi said. “This is specifically against you.”
“Oh.” Ruxandra frowned. “Why?”
“In the course of the . . . persuasion . . . that Anna used on the magicians, it came to her attention you issued threats against their lives and hers. And while she was willing to overlook it at first, your continued resistance against Anna made her suspicious of you and your intentions.”
“I guess I shouldn’t have told you I would kill her.”
“Probably not.” Alexi smiled. “I am in Anna’s service, after all.”
“And you obey even when you don’t agree with her?”
“We seldom agree with everything our rulers ask of us. Sometimes we must trust it is for the best.”
They reached the gates to the outer city. Alexi nodded at the guards and led Ruxandra across the bridge. The water looked gray and cold, though the sun sparkled off the surface. The ground felt hard under her boots, the frost from the night still buried within the dirt. Alexi walked on, matching his pace to Ruxandra’s.
She was not used to seeing the streets so busy, the colors so bright. She squinted against the sunlight. People looked happy, talking cheerfully as they went about their day. Children played near a small school, others worked beside their parents. Men and women laughed and touched and chatted and argued with one another.
“What if it isn’t?” Ruxandra asked, looking at the crowd. “What if what your ruler wants causes nothing but misery for everyone? What then? Do you still obey?”
“Yes,” Alexi said without hesitation. “That is duty. Sometimes it is unpleasant—”
“Like when you ordered the Alchemist to be raped?”
“What?” Alexi stopped. “What happened?”
“The Alchemist was raped,” Ruxandra said. “Did your men do it?”
“No.” Alexi’s jaw clenched. “My people do not use such methods. Nor do Anna’s torturers. At least I thought not.”
“Then who did it?”
“Any of Anna’s soldiers, if she ordered them. They act like dogs in heat.”
The sounds of the pogrom replayed in Ruxandra’s mind.
“Why do you want to speak with Ishtar?” Alexi asked.
I don’t. “Kade says I should talk to her, to better understand the good she is doing.”
Alexi fell silent. Ruxandra’s head ached from the sunlight. She looked at the ground and tried not to think about it.
“Ishtar has free run of the city,” Alexi said as they rounded a corner. “She goes where she wills, when she wills, at whatever hours she wills. My men follow her, but she eludes them every time. Do you know where?”
To fuck Delfino? “Not all the places.”
“How did you follow her?” Alexi tilted his head, examining her like some strange creature.
“A hundred years in the forest,” Ruxandra said. “I can track anyone.”
“Could you follow her again?”
“Only at night.”
“The times you followed her, where did she go?”
Ruxandra shook her head. “Let me talk to Ishtar first. Then I’ll answer your questions.”
“Tomorrow night, perhaps?”
“Perhaps. I don’t know.”
“Well.” Alexi’s tone changed, curiosity and worry filling it in equal measure. “That is unusual.”
The church stood a block ahead of them. Four soldiers formed a line across the top step, muskets in their hands. Each looked worried and scared.
Peasants surrounded the building.
Poverty marked them as surely as though they had been branded. They wore thick coats and trousers made from rough wool. Lines from harsh years of hard work with too little to eat marked their faces. A man in front shouted at the guards.
“Let us in!” he demanded. “We want to see what is going on inside!”
“Calm down, Bogden,” said one guard. “It’s not a church anymore. Nobody goes in without the empress’s permission.”
“Why not?” Bogden raise
d his voice. “What are you hiding in there?”
“Nothing!”
“Then let us in!”
“Get the empress’s permission!”
The people booed and jeered at that.
“This is not good,” Alexi said. “I suggested to Anna we should keep the church operating as always. The Metropolitan and his people kept its secrets for hundreds of years. But Anna wanted no one inside when the magicians worked.”
Ruxandra looked over the crowd. “Do I need to disperse them?”
“Can you?” Alexi’s eyebrows rose. “Without hurting them, I mean.”
“Yes.” Ruxandra raised her voice and commanded, “Everyone not on guard, go about your business and leave the church alone. Go now!”
The people dispersed. Alexi watched. “Useful talent. Does it work on anyone?”
“Anyone not protected from it,” Ruxandra said. “Take off your protections and I’ll show you.”
For the first time that day, Alexi laughed. “Oh, my dear princess. I shall miss you when you leave Moscow.”
Ruxandra frowned. “Am I leaving?”
“I expect so, soon.” Alexi released her arm and bowed to her. “Allow me to get you in. Then I must return.”
He spoke to the guards and left. Ruxandra walked inside, found the stairs, and headed down.
Was he trying to tell me something? Is he warning me?
The steps felt longer than before, as if with every step Ruxandra went deeper into a pit from which she could not return.
She stepped into the library and found it buzzing.
Kurkov and Eduard stood over a large table, arguing over a text. The Alchemist had cleared a space on the floor and was writing on the marble with chalk. Derek and Michael stood above her, pointing at the symbols and talking excitedly. The librarians moved in and out of the stacks, carrying lists of books and scrolls and tablets.
In the middle of it, sitting like a queen in the large chair at the head of one table, was Ishtar.
She wore a dress in a deep forest green, embroidered with gold thread and putting her cleavage on fine display. A young woman beside her poured tea from a small teapot into an exquisitely crafted cup. A plate of grilled meat and cheese lay beside it. She picked up a slice and ate it, her eyes closed as she relished the taste.
She opened them, fixed them on Ruxandra.
“My daughter.” Her voice held neither eagerness nor anger. It was aggressively neutral, as if she repressed any emotions for fear of irritating Ruxandra. “What can I do for you?”
Ruxandra looked at the plate of meat, then at the tea—anywhere but at Ishtar.
“Eduard, my dear,” Ishtar called. “Fetch me a lantern.”
Eduard broke away from his argument with Kurkov at once. “Yes, my lady.”
Ishtar stayed in her seat, unmoving, until the man returned and placed the lantern on the table.
“Come with me, Ruxandra.” Ishtar rose and took the lantern. “I’ll show you something no one else has seen for a thousand years.”
She led Ruxandra up the stairs, then down a narrow corridor in the opposite direction from the bedrooms. Ruxandra spotted a pair of rooms with ancient couches and chairs, and boards with game pieces on them she didn’t recognize. Ishtar swept past them to a door at the end. She opened it, revealing a small closet, closed it, and opened it again.
Behind the wall, machinery creaked and groaned. The closet’s back wall slid away, revealing a set of stairs going up. Ishtar climbed them, and Ruxandra, curiosity piqued, followed.
The space on the other side was small compared to the library, but still larger than any five bedrooms put together. Black marble, streaked through with gray, covered the floor. Deep-blue paint covered the walls. In the middle stood a pair of black semicircular benches facing each other to form a circle. Ishtar walked between them and sat on one. She pointed at the other.
Ruxandra sat on it.
Ishtar held the lantern up. “What always surprises me is how little light it needs.”
She put the lamp on the floor and blew it out, plunging them into darkness.
Then the stars came out.
One by one they shone out from the deep-blue ceiling, filling the air with light. It was dim by human standards, but more than enough for Ruxandra. She stared up at them, amazed.
“It took him fifty years,” Ishtar said. “They’re in the wrong places now. Even the heavens move and change.”
“Him?” Ruxandra frowned. “The vampire king?”
“Yes. He liked to create beautiful things.”
The stars, so dim to human sight, shone to Ruxandra, outlining Ishtar with light. She looked strong and unearthly, beyond human despite her form.
Which is why she picked this place.
“What do you want from me, Ruxandra?” Ishtar asked. “How can I prove to you that what I told you is true?”
“Why did you fuck Delfino?”
Ishtar blinked in surprise. “A rather crude way of putting it.”
“Why?”
“Before I became human, I read the mind of everyone within the Kremlin. Delfino’s mind held three things: boredom, lust, and hatred. Boredom with the Princess Khilkoff. Lust for women, unsatisfied that evening because he is with Khilkoff and unable to meet with his usual mistresses or whores. And a hatred for Empress Anna so deep he could think of nothing but how to depose her, even if he had to marry the boring wench Khilkoff. Because Princess Khilkoff, like Delfino, has a tenuous claim to the throne. By marrying, they increase their legitimacy, and that of their heirs.”
“So you . . .”
“After I dressed, I found him standing alone on the Terem Palace steps. I took him to a quiet corner, knelt, and convinced him I was a much better person to spend time with than the princess. When I finished, I told him I was an heir, and that together we could claim the throne.”
“And he believed you?”
“He is very easy to lead,” she said, “provided you grasp the right part.”
“And Kade?” Ruxandra asked. “What part are you leading him by?”
“His desire for purpose,” Ishtar said. “I created you for a purpose, and he needed to know it.”
“That’s not what you said.”
“What I said to you—”
“‘I send you out instead, my child, to sow chaos and fear, to make humans kneel in terror, and to ravage the world where I cannot.’”
Ishtar smiled. “Yes, that is it.”
“So how does that work?” Ruxandra demanded. “How can you reduce human violence by terrorizing them?”
“Terror is the strongest force on earth, Ruxandra. It always has been. But terror of humans is short lived; the big man gets old and weak, et cetera. By creating you I can show them that a higher power watches them, judges them. Not a distant higher power like God or the devil, whom they only find in stories and will not meet until it is too late. An immediate power. One that watches and weeds out the evil among them. Then, and only then, when they fear for the results of their actions, will they begin to think of what they do.”
“So people are only decent when they think someone is watching them?” Ruxandra shook her head. “I don’t believe that.”
“I have watched humanity since its inception,” Ishtar said, “and I can assure you, it is true.”
Ruxandra looked away. The stars on the walls shone bright. The illusion of looking at the firmament was nearly perfect.
But it’s still an illusion.
And what Ishtar says? Is it an illusion, too?
Or is it real?
What she is saying is that we—those of us with power—become as gods, judging, condemning, deciding the fate of societies. She felt repugnance at the idea. But isn’t that what I do anyway, on a small scale? Why is it worse her way? Kade’s way?
It all comes down to her motives.
“Ruxandra?” Ishtar’s voice was soft, gentle. “Do you understand, Ruxandra?”
“Why couldn’t I hit you??
?? Ruxandra asked. “I wanted to. I really, really wanted to.”
Ishtar smiled. “My dear one, none of my children can hurt me, once they’ve looked on me.”
Chapter 19
“Why?” Ruxandra asked. “Why do that?”
“I am weak, walking in this world.” Ishtar gestured to the false sky. “An angel is made of the essence of God. In heaven we are almost indestructible. On earth we cannot be more than human if we wish to stay for any length of time. We can be injured as humans, even killed and sent back to hell. We are vulnerable—especially to a creature of great power.”
Ruxandra frowned. “Are you so afraid of me?”
“You are not the first,” Ishtar said. “Nor was the vampire king. I learned long ago of the anger creatures can have for their creators. So I made it so none of my children could kill me once they had looked upon me. It gives me the time to explain their purpose and bring them to my side.”
Ishtar walked to the door. “The stars will fade soon. Shall we go?”
Ruxandra followed her back to her big table. A pot of tea with two cups sat waiting for them beside the plate of meat and cheese. Ishtar poured the tea and handed one cup to Ruxandra.
Ruxandra cradled hers in her hands, feeling the cup turn from warm to burning as it absorbed the tea’s heat. The sweet smells of fruit and herbs filled her nostrils. Her mind whirled, feelings of distrust clashing with a new desire: to believe Ishtar wanted help.
“What else do you need to trust me, Ruxandra?” Ishtar sat in her chair. “What else will it take?”
Ruxandra let her eyes wander instead of answering. The Alchemist, Derek, and Michael still worked on a chalk circle and the many symbols in it. A small ceramic crucible, exquisitely engraved with mathematic symbols, stood in the center of it. From the stacks she could hear Kurkov and Eduard cataloguing more books.
Books.
“Ruxandra?”
“Will you teach me the vampire language?”
“The written one?” Ishtar sat back in the chair. “Of course. Will you help me change the world?”
“I don’t know,” Ruxandra said. “But I’ll listen to you.”