and taken them away. The more I thought of it, the less the locket
seemed to matter. And yet…
“I think I need it,” I said slowly. “I need the… ” What was it I
needed?
“You don’t need the locket, dear.” Helga’s intent gaze fixed on me.
“There’s nothing of value in it. Just a picture of dear Azelly.”
I shook my head, trying to focus. “No, I… ” There was something
on the tip of my tongue I wanted to say. What had we been talking
about? A question I’d meant to ask her rattled loose from the back of
my mind. “That night. How did you know about the shade? How did
you know to look for me in Raqia?”
Helga frowned in disapproval. “Did you really think I never knew
what you were up to? I’ve been visiting the Demon Market since I was
a child. When I saw the vial in your room, I took it, thinking to teach you a lesson. I was going to leave an empty vial in its place. Let you explain to your mother why there were two of you at breakfast.” Her
eyes hardened. “You should have been there with Azel. You’d taken
him riding and gotten him sick when you knew better. Could you not
have bothered to spend an evening with him?”
This struck me to the heart. She’d never said it before. She’d kept
quiet after our outing, never blamed me, though I’d waited for her to
do so. Her silence had eaten at me and fed my guilty conscience, but
THE FALLEN QUEEN 201
this was worse. The words of my own self-recrimination were coming
out of her mouth. I could see it in her eyes. Azel had been her darling; he’d been everyone’s. And he had died, while I had lived.
My voice came out small and uncertain. “I’d be dead if it wasn’t
for you, Helga. I’d be dead with them.” I wasn’t sure if I was thanking her or blaming her for saving me. Which was the crueler fate?
“We all have to make the best of the hand we’re dealt,” she said.
A strange reply. I no longer felt the comfort and love from her that
I’d always taken for granted. “You’re not safe here. I’ve kept you too long.”
“I was going to come anyway. Belphagor’s scheming can only
come to ill. The Seraphim will find us, and I can’t let them hurt Vasily because of me.”
“Anazakia. You cannot throw your life away for that polovina-d’yavol.” She spat the word—Russian for “half-devil”—with disgust.
“Half?” I exclaimed.
She flinched at the realization that I understood her secret
language and sighed with resignation. “Vasily’s mother was a distant
cousin of Queen Sefira.”
I was stunned. Queen Sefira was my mother.
“I knew Ysael when she was a girl. She was headstrong, the same
as you, and came to dirty her skirts in the waters of Raqia because it upset her mother.” A note of scorn I’d never heard before crept into
Helga’s voice, and I couldn’t help but feel it was in part directed at me.
“I was a few years older, but I thought her very charming. Until she
used one of our men to get back at her mother for some slight.”
“What do you mean?” I asked, knowing very well what she meant.
“She opened her legs for a demon, and then seemed terribly
surprised when she ended up with a demon’s seed in her womb. Her
family threw her out. She came back to Raqia, begging for help. No
one confessed to being the father, and she wouldn’t say who it was. She had to sell herself on the streets to stay alive until the baby was born.”
“Would no one help her?”
“What help had any of her kind ever given us?” The hardness in
her eyes softened when I took a shocked step back. “I only tell you
this because that is the only fate you can hope for in Heaven, even
202 JANE KINDRED
if the Seraphim don’t find you. You’ll find no sympathy here for your
condition.” Helga went to her cupboard, searched among her bottles
of spices and herbs, and retrieved a small paper envelope. “There’s
enough here to take care of it. Dissolve the contents in a teaspoon of water, no more, and swallow it all, no matter how unpleasant the taste.
You’ll begin to bleed within a matter of hours.”
“Helga—”
“This is not open for discussion, Anazakia. Take it and go down
to the world of Man, and do not ever come back up. And if you have
any sense, you’ll not return to him.” She pushed the envelope into my
hand.
I shook my head, tears spilling onto my cheeks. “I can’t, Helga.
face in shame.
“You are a very spoiled girl. You all were.” Helga pressed her hand
over the locket and her voice broke. “My sweet Azelly was the only
one of you who never behaved as if Heaven owed him everything. The
only who was never ill-tempered—who never complained, though he
had the most cause. And still I loved you all like my own children. But the world has changed. It is no longer about you.”
I dropped the envelope into my pocket and reached for her hand,
longing for the comfort she’d always provided, but she shook her head, arms folded over her bosom.
“Have you ever given a thought to anyone but yourself? What do
you suppose will happen to that child if you bring it into the world?
Do you actually imagine Heaven will suddenly welcome you back
with a Fallen bastard at your breast? Do you think the principality
simply made a mistake?”
A cold weight settled in my stomach. “What are you saying?”
“Your cousin is a very shrewd politician. He saw the revolution
coming. He and your father argued bitterly about the state of the
empire. Helison refused to take the threats seriously. What did a
handful of malcontents mean to him? All that was important to
him was his authority, and any suggestion of change from one of his
advisors was an affront to it.”
I stepped back against the table. “How do you know all this?”
THE FALLEN QUEEN 203
“Because I listened, Anazakia. Of course it escaped your attention.
It was not about jewels or gowns or galas.”
I bore this rebuke in silence. Finery and fetes had never interested
me, but I couldn’t say I’d paid attention to much beyond myself.
The problems of state that had troubled my father had been of no
consequence to me at all.
“Your cousin, monster though he may be, knew it was only
a matter of time before the Heavens rose up against the House of
Arkhangel’sk. So he did it himself. And if you think anyone in Raqia
besides me shed a tear for any of you, you’re a bigger fool than you
behave.”
Understanding dawned on me. “You never meant for me to come
back. You weren’t going to call Belphagor at all.”
Her expression held only pity. “Why would you want to come
back? To play at being a queen? Ruling a princedom is not a game of
dress-up.”
Her words hung between us, delicate blades that tore my heart to
shreds. How could I argue with her?
She sighed as if I were a burden she longed to be rid of. “Go back
to the world of Man and let Heaven forget about you, child.” Helga
took her cloak from the hook by the door, and directed me out
before
her into the swirling floods rising over the dirty sidewalks. Rain was pouring on us, but I didn’t pull up my hood.
She handed me a small object that at first I took for the callstone,
but this one was made of clay. “There’s a portal beneath the storm
drains. It will be easy to spot with all the spring runoff rushing to it.
Toss the charm into the grate and it will open for you.”
I tucked it into my pocket, and pulled my coat close. “What
happened to her?”
Helga didn’t ask whom I meant. “She went to the North Country.
She threw herself into the Pyriphlegethon.” She drew my head toward
her and kissed the top of it. “Goodbye, Nenny.” She waited on the step for me to turn with the rushing water and leave her, my last port in the storm now flimsy and childish as a paper boat.
Muddy water swirled about my ankles while I made my way
through the downpour to the place she’d pointed out. My tapochki
204 JANE KINDRED
were ruined; I hadn’t expected to leave the house. I almost giggled at the absurdity. Vasily must be frantic by now. I sighed and felt for the little envelope in my pocket. I couldn’t believe Vasily had meant any
of what he’d said to me, though it was clear he didn’t want a child. I’d surprised him, maybe frightened him.
And if I went back to him, I’d be putting him in danger.
I stopped before the flooding storm drain and bit my lip. I’d made
here I was. Azel was lost forever, but I could keep Vasily safe. I could still do what Belphagor had asked of me and take care of him by
keeping the Seraphim away for good, no matter what game Belphagor
was playing. I couldn’t fathom that he was truly serving Aeval, but it was in my power to see that whatever his plan was, it brought Vasily
no further harm.
“Citizen, halt!” The order was a hot knife in my skull. The Supernal
Guard had found me.
All I had to do was toss the keystone through the grate and the
portal would open. Instead, I pulled the charm from my pocket and let
the rain disintegrate the clay and wash it from my hand.
When the Ophanim reached me and one grabbed my shoulder, I
nearly screamed at the horrid prickling of his touch. I’d always thought the peasants who made such a fuss over it when they were apprehended
were prone to dramatics. The sensation was indescribably unpleasant.
“You are violating curfew.” The Ophan’s voice made me dizzy
with nausea. “Where is your pentacle?”
I faced the pair of Ophanim, looking at them sidelong to avoid the
disconcerting sense of constant motion. “My pentacle?”
“Fallen citizens are to wear the badge of the pentacle at all times.”
“I’m not… ” What was I to say? I am the fugitive heir to the
throne? “I need to see the principality.” The words were bitter acid in my mouth.
“You will be remanded to the Queen’s House of Correction.” The
Ophanim grabbed my arms on either side, and I could say nothing
else, weak and shuddering between them.
My ring might have protected me from the effects of their touch,
but Belphagor had taken it. Or I might have used the flower of the
THE FALLEN QUEEN 205
fern to fend them off and enter Elysium under my own power, but I’d
left the blossom with Helga. What had possessed me to let her keep
it? I remembered the rest of our conversation in painful detail, but
everything around that moment was fuzzy. I couldn’t even remember
precisely how the flower had left my possession. My memory was as
faulty as Vasily’s vision.
Charms and amulets aside, within the celestial sphere I did not
even have the advantage of elemental radiance. Instead, I was just
another peasant at the mercy of the Supernal Ophanim. I could do
nothing but stumble with them toward Elysium.
206 JANE KINDRED
Dvadtsatoe: Night Travelers
For the first time he could remember, Vasily felt the cold. He
wandered about the dacha wrapped in blankets and watching his
breath hang in the air before him, acutely aware of not only Belphagor’s absence, but Anazakia’s. With the house empty, it seemed wasteful to
burn wood just for himself. Living in a house colder than a mortuary
suited his current mood.
Knud had taken the train into Vologda Oblast to make some
discreet inquiries with the gypsy underground about any rumors of
Anazakia’s whereabouts, and to find out if there had been any news
from Heaven. The Romani camp near Vologda the previous autumn
had moved on, and with constant harassment from skinheads and
nationalists, it was becoming difficult to find any Travelers in the area.
Not every gypsy was an ally, of course. Vasily found it difficult to
tell the difference between ordinary Travelers and Night Travelers, but Belphagor had always had a knack for spotting a believer. Or perhaps
the gypsies had a knack for spotting him. It was a minority among
them, at any rate, who believed in the unseen world.
The Night Travelers had forged an alliance with the Fallen in the
days when believers were burned at the stake. They kept the secrets
of the Fallen in exchange for protection from the earthly powers
who persecuted them. Immune to the radiance of the Seraphim by
celestial law, the Night Travelers had become the natural choice for
intermediary between Host and Fallen in the terrestrial sphere.
The gypsy underground was larger, though, than just the Night
THE FALLEN QUEEN 207
Travelers. Because most Roma preferred to remain “off the grid,”
passing information was an old and lucrative business, and if some
claimed to trade secrets with the devil, the gypsies who thought it
nonsense were willing to humor them so long as palms were being
crossed.
Vasily began to worry when Knud didn’t return. He was about to
give up and go after the gypsy when Knud showed up with a young
Traveler he’d met in Cherepovets who claimed to be an expert at
finding out what others didn’t want found out. Knud introduced her as
Lyubov, but she preferred the English “Love.”
Vasily regarded her dubiously. Love appeared to be even younger
than Knud—Anazakia’s age, he realized with chagrin. Over a man’s
thermal undershirt and baggy jeans, and a London Fog coat that was
far too big for her, she wore a large backpack like Knud’s, but Love’s was full of cellular phones and laptop computers. Vasily had never
even gotten used to wired telephones. With irony, he called these
newer inventions “the devil’s tools,” and would have nothing to do
with them.
Shrugging out of the backpack, Love pulled off her knit cap by a
braided tassel and ruffled her fingers through a tousled head of short, dark waves. “It’s colder than hell in here.”
Vasily shrugged, thinking hell was supposed to be hot rather than
cold. Before he could light the fire, however, Knud set about building one from scratch.
“How long has this been out?” he complained. “What were you
trying to do, freeze yourself to death?”
“Kept the milk from spoiling,” said Vasily drily. “I was always
forgetting to put it away.�
��
Love appraised him while she pulled off her boots. “You sound
like a smoker. Good thing, ’cause I can’t go without my smokes.”
Love smoked and chewed gum at the same time, with one hand
always dancing over her electronic gadgets—talking, she claimed, to
people all over the world. They sent cryptic messages Vasily couldn’t
decipher, even if he wanted to stare at the weird little boxes long enough to try. He hadn’t had a cigarette in months, however—Anazakia didn’t
care for the smoke—and for that, Love was a godsend. The rest of
208 JANE KINDRED
the contents of her backpack seemed to consist solely of cartons of
cigarettes, and she was only too happy to share.
“Knud tells me you want news from the north.” Love threw a pack
and a lighter to him, then plugged one of the phones into one of her
computers. She claimed this connected her to a vast network called
the “Internet.” Vasily took her word for it. “As if there was anything north of here,” Love added, blowing a smoke ring.
“The euphemistic North, of course,” said Knud.
“Oh, right. Where the ‘angels’ live.” She rolled her eyes.
Vasily gave Knud a quizzical look.
“Love thinks Roma who believe they communicate with the other
world are either fools, con artists, or cultists.” Knud winked at Vasily.
“She’s agreed to humor me because she knows hundreds of such fools.
If there’s any real information to be gleaned out of their superstitions, she’ll get it.”
“I suppose I should light my cigarette in the conventional way,
then.” Vasily put a cigarette between his teeth and picked up the
lighter. Love paid no attention, intent on her machines. Knud smiled
and took a cigarette himself.
“So,” said Love. “We have a blogger in Gstaad who claims to have
been visited by angels who told him the end of the world is coming
next month.”
Knud shook his head and lit his cigarette on the end of Vasily’s.
“And a kid in Novgorod thinks the Volkhova hotel fire last summer
was the work of ‘angels of flame.’” Vasily and Knud exchanged looks.
“And a members-only forum discussing recent demon possessions.”
Vasily laughed out loud at that one and nearly choked on the
smoke in his lungs.
“Hey, you’re the one who wants me to find the buzz.”