Where was Celestine? Andrei paced the gravel drive, wondering what was detaining her. It was time to go. He had already been recognized by Valery Va.s.sian, his oldest friend. And being reunited with Astasia had stirred up so many emotions.

Can I trust you to keep my secret, Valery? But then, you were always devoted to Astasia. If her honor were at stake, I know that you'd give your life for her without a moment's thought...

The Dievona's Bonfires were burning in the valley below; flowers of scarlet flame springing into bloom in the palace gardens and around the lake. The sight of Eugene's magnificent palace, lit by many hundreds of candles, only served to increase Andrei's bitterness.

"Here I am, the heir to Muscobar, forced to skulk like a poor servant ..."

But the Francians had reminded him that he had the advantage of surprise; he must bide his time a little longer.

The sound of hooves on the gravel distracted him; a lone horseman was riding at a slow trot up the drive toward him. By the guttering flambeaux, Andrei recognized his friend Valery Va.s.sian. One of Valery's hands controlled the reins, the other gently supported the slender form of a young woman who lay slumped against him.

"Celestine?" Andrei reached up to take her as Valery reined his horse to a stop. "What's happened to her, Valery?" She weighed so little in his arms, in spite of the voluminous folds of her blue dress, her golden head drooping against his shoulder.

"Let's take her to her carriage." Valery swung down from the saddle to help him. "Coachman, do you have any smelling salts?"

Andrei gently propped Celestine up in the corner of the carriage. "Did she faint?" Anxiously he felt for a pulse in her wrist. "Her hands are cold." Ever since they first met, Celestine had been so resourceful, so strong, her determined att.i.tude to her mission making him feel ashamed of his own indecisiveness.

"He said she was drunk, but I can't smell any trace of alcohol on her breath." Valery, leaning one arm against the carriage, peered inside. said she was drunk, but I can't smell any trace of alcohol on her breath." Valery, leaning one arm against the carriage, peered inside.

"He?" Andrei swung around, alarmed. "Has someone drugged her? Has she been molested?"

"The Magus? It must be many a year since he was capable of such a thing," Valery said, amused.

"She was with the Magus?" Had Celestine dared to confront Kaspar Linnaius alone? Andrei's anxiety and admiration for her increased in equal measure. If anyone had a score to settle with the Magus, it should be he, acting on behalf of Muscobar and his drowned crewmates.

Celestine let out a shuddering sigh but did not open her eyes.

"She just seems to be very deeply asleep." Andrei turned back to her. "Although...what are these little specks of glitter on her clothes?"

"Spangles?" suggested Valery lamely. "Sequins?"

"Jagu will kill me for letting this happen," Andrei murmured under his breath.

"What's that?" Valery said.

"Hadn't you better be getting back, Valery? You don't want to raise any suspicions."

"Right-ho." Valery climbed back up into the saddle and saluted Andrei before turning his horse's head back toward the palace below.

The fireworks display had come to an end, but the Dievona's Bonfires had been lit all over the grounds of the palace, and the masked revelers were wandering toward them, accompanied by musicians from the surrounding villages; pipers and fiddlers, playing the age-old folk tunes, drowning out the more refined strains of the court orchestra.

Eugene had waited till then to make his excuses and slip away from his guests; he had instructed Gustave to tell anyone who asked that he was going hunting. Although he could not help but feel guilty when he glimpsed Astasia, all alone on the terrace.

"I'm doing this for you, Astasia," he told her silently. he told her silently. "It's the only way that I can protect you-and the empire-from the Drakhaoul of Azhkendir. "It's the only way that I can protect you-and the empire-from the Drakhaoul of Azhkendir."

Earlier, he had removed the Tears of Artamon from his imperial crown and now carried them, safely stowed in a velvet pouch. From time to time he sensed a tremble of energy from the ancient rubies.

But where was Linnaius? Eugene gazed around impatiently, eager to be on his way. The Magus was late. He could hear the fiddlers playing, the wild music mingling with the delighted cries of the guests as the bonfire flames flared high into the night skies.

"F-forgive me, highness." Linnaius appeared, a little out of breath. There was something odd about his expression; it was highly unusual for the Magus to show any sign of emotion, but Eugene suspected instantly that something had disturbed him.

"What happened, Magus?"

"Nothing that need detain us." Linnaius led the way into the obscure shrubbery where he kept his sky craft hidden from curious eyes. "I dealt with it."

Eugene shrugged. There was no point in prying. "Then let's be on our way," he said, clambering into the craft as Linnaius raised one hand to the star-speckled sky. Seconds later, the trees and bushes around them began to sway and rustle as a fresh wind blew up and filled the sail. Soon they were rising high above the palace grounds until Eugene could gaze down at the red florets of fire far below, marking each summer bonfire.

And then as they headed toward the coast, he felt the rubies begin to vibrate, as though they contained a vital energy of their own.

Klervie de Maunoir was alive. Linnaius kept seeing her face superimposed against the clouds overhead, her blue eyes, so like her father Herve's, staring accusingly into his. If I had known that Herve's family had survived the Inquisition's purge...

As they pa.s.sed above the Straits, he turned the craft toward the south.

"You look troubled, Kaspar," said Eugene. "Is all well?" "I was just checking my charts," Linnaius said. It wasn't exactly a lie. He knew that it was no time to be distracted by a ghost from his past; Eugene needed transport, as swiftly as possible, for the consummation of his desires.

Linnaius glanced at Eugene's face, catching him in an unguarded moment as he gazed out across the blue of the Southern Ocean toward the horizon. In the heat, the Emperor had stripped off his jacket and tugged open his shirt. The disfiguring scars left by the Drakhaon's Fire could be seen only too well in the clear light, marring half his face and extending down one side of his body to the hand he had raised-in vain-to protect himself from the searing blast.

A Drakhaoul had injured him, but could a Drakhaoul use its powers to heal Eugene's damaged body and make him whole again? Linnaius, in all his long life, had never attempted anything so reckless. And even if Eugene succeeded in summoning one of the Drakhaouls, why would a daemon so powerful agree to serve a mortal master?

The low hum issuing from the rubies was growing louder and as the sun burned down more fiercely, Eugene took out the stones and began to bind them together with the length of gold wire Linnaius had prepared. As he was completing the task, Linnaius felt a sudden pulse of energy and a bolt of crimson light shot out, radiating far into the sky.

"What in G.o.d's name-" began Eugene.

"A beacon," said Linnaius, now as excited as his imperial master, "to show us the way to Ty Nagar."

"Can that really be Ty Nagar?" Eugene's voice was quiet but Linnaius saw how his whole body had tensed as he leaned forward to take a closer look. The smoke rising from the peaks of active volcanoes besmirched the clear blue of the sky.

Linnaius gazed up at the Serpent Gate and felt a rush of dark foreboding enshroud him, as if stormclouds had gathered to blot out the sun. The archway of writhing winged serpents loomed high above them, dominated by the head of Nagar himself, fanged jaws snarling defiance at the tangled jungle and ruined temples below.

"This must be the sacrificial stair," he murmured, "leading up to the gateway through which the priests sent their victims as sacrifices to Nagar. Until the day they summoned one of his daemons into this world..."

But he was talking to himself. Eugene had gone on ahead and was already beginning to clamber up the ancient archway.

"Take care, I beg you, highness!" Linnaius cried.

"Don't worry," came back Eugene's voice as he climbed, finding footholds on the shoulders and wing tips of the stone daemons. "I always enjoyed rock climbing..."

Linnaius could hardly bear to watch as his imperial master reached the top of the archway and leaned out precariously far to insert the rubies into the empty eye socket of the daemon's head.

"It's done," Eugene called down. "But why is nothing happening?"

A blood-red light had begun to emanate from the rubies, tainting the lichened grey stone with their glow. Linnaius felt the unsettling, disturbing sensation growing stronger within him. "Come down, I beg you."

"Very well." Eugene sounded disappointed. Minutes later he jumped the last few feet, landing on one knee. Linnaius saw the disillusionment in his face as he sank down on the worn sacrificial stone and wiped the sweat from his eyes on his shirtsleeve. "I failed," he said. "Maybe it was all for the best..."

"Wait." Linnaius had heard a deep rumble, as if the earth were groaning. "What's that sound?"

Eugene stood up. "An earthquake? Or is the volcano about to erupt?"

It was growing darker. Smoky fog began to issue from Nagar's maw, billowing out until the archway was filled with swirling darkness. And in that darkness, the rubies glowed more intensely, a daemon's eye, fixing its unblinking gaze upon them.

The ground suddenly shuddered violently beneath their feet. Linnaius lost his balance and fell heavily; beside him Eugene was flung forward onto his knees. As Linnaius tried to push himself up again, he glimpsed something twitch high above his head.

One of the stone daemon-dragons on the Gate had begun to uncurl itself from the tangle of twisted, contorted bodies. A shimmer of color flooded through the grey stone. Linnaius, helpless and terrified, saw the daemon slowly stretch its lithe body as though awakening after a long sleep. Then, opening its great wings, it flew down to alight beneath the Gate. Wild locks of hair-gold and copper and malachite green-streamed down its scaly back.

Eugene rose to his feet and began to move slowly toward the glittering creature.

Linnaius tried to call out to him to stop but, as in a waking dream, his voice would not obey him. As he watched, helpless, Eugene opened his arms wide to the daemon, as if to embrace it.

At one moment, Linnaius saw two figures: the mortal man and the Drakhaoul-daemon. The next, as he blinked the swirling smoke from his eyes, there was only Eugene. Then Eugene began to sway. "H- help me, Kaspar," he whispered, then pitched to the ground, insensible.

"I know you now, mortal. You are powerful." The Drakhaoul's voice whispered in Eugene's brain. "You are Emperor. And yet you bear scars, inflicted by one of my kin." "You are Emperor. And yet you bear scars, inflicted by one of my kin."

"Heal me." Eugene managed at last to stammer out the words. "Make me whole again."

" You are a warrior, Eugene. Your instinct is to fight me. But if I am to heal you, you must surrender your will to mine." You are a warrior, Eugene. Your instinct is to fight me. But if I am to heal you, you must surrender your will to mine."

Linnaius watched, powerless to intervene, as Eugene's p.r.o.ne body began to twitch and writhe on the sacrificial stone. A spiral of golden mist enwrapped him, and at its heart, a wave of flame arose, utterly enveloping the Emperor.

"No!" Linnaius cried out, but even as the cry was torn from his throat, the dazzling fire died away and he saw Eugene slowly raise his hand and gaze at it, turning it this way and that. He sat up and tentatively touched his face, then his scalp.

He let out a triumphant shout. "Look, Kaspar. Look at me!"

Linnaius stared at the Emperor. Eugene was just as he had been before the disastrous battle in Azhkendir: unblemished again, miraculously healed by the Drakhaoul he had freed.

"Highness." Linnaius ventured closer. "You-you've been restored."

Eugene was smiling at him. "And this is all thanks to your dedication, my friend." He held out his hand.

Linnaius hesitated, then took Eugene's outstretched hand and pressed it between his own, feeling the smooth sheen of the new skin. "Your highness honors me," he said quietly.

The Emperor suddenly turned his head away as if listening to a voice Linnaius could not hear. Then he said, "The Drakhaoul of Azhkendir is coming. The rubies must have drawn him to Ty Nagar." And as Linnaius watched, speechless, great shadow-wings unfurled from the Emperor's back. A creature of terrifying beauty stood before him: a daemon-dragon with scales that shimmered jade green, malachite, and gold in the sunlight.

The dragon flew to the top of the Serpent Gate and, hovering there, extracted the ruby eye with one of its talons. It tossed it down to Linnaius, who caught it, hugging it to him.

"I have unfinished business with Lord Gavril," it called with the Emperor's voice. "I'll distract him while you take the rubies safely back to Swanholm."

"Highness, wait, I beg you!" But the creature that had been Eugene turned and flew off toward the sea.

You've found the power you desired, imperial highness. But you've paid a high price for it, Linnaius found himself thinking, as he made his way wearily back to the sky craft. Linnaius found himself thinking, as he made his way wearily back to the sky craft. And now, where will it end? And now, where will it end?

As the sky craft rose slowly above the steamy warmth of the jungle, Linnaius sensed a sudden disturbance in the air. Gazing back down at the Serpent Gate far below, he saw a sight that made him shiver with terror, in spite of the oppressive heat.

The grey volcanic stone out of which the Gate was carved had begun to shimmer. Color was flooding through the twisted, agonized forms of the remaining three Drakhaouls, filling their wings and scaly bodies with vivid, jewel-bright ichor. As Linnaius watched, fascinated, he saw them begin to stretch their limbs, extending sharp-taloned fingers as though waking from a long sleep. One glimmered with the dark hues of an autumn twilight; a second burned fierce as a scarlet flame, while the third was so golden-bright that Linnaius could not look directly at it.

How had this happened? Eugene had summoned one Drakhaoul and one alone. Yet there was no escaping the fact that in replacing Nagar's Eye, even for so brief a time, he must have inadvertently set the others free from their stone prison.

In a sudden shudder of wings, they took to the air. Linnaius cowered in his craft as they streaked away overhead, like three fiery comets searing the deep blue of the sky.

"No," Linnaius heard himself murmuring, as if a mere word from a magus could stop such powerful daemons. "What have we done, Eugene? What abominations have we let loose on the world?"

CHAPTER 11.

Astasia wandered forlornly through the palace looking for Eugene. Exhausted, upset, and confused, she was determined to learn the truth about the sinking of the Sirin. Sirin.

The servants were yawning as they began the work of clearing away the detritus left after the last guests had departed: the empty ballroom was strewn with streamers, discarded dance cards, crushed flowers, and plates of half-finished food. The polished floor was puddled with spilled wine and melted ices. The lingering smell of stale alcohol and gunpowder fumes almost made her retch.

Why do I feel so sick? Have I eaten something that disagreed with my stomach?

No one had seen the Emperor and Astasia eventually found herself at the office of Gustave, Eugene's personal secretary.

"Imperial highness!" Even the usually meticulous Gustave looked a little the worse for wear, with a hint of stubble darkening his cheeks and chin. "Why didn't you send for me?"

"Where's my husband, Gustave?"

"He-" and it didn't escape her notice that Gustave faltered- "he's gone hunting."

"Hunting," she repeated incredulously. It was so obviously a pretext-but for what? Does he have a mistress? Does he have a mistress? "You expect me to believe that after the celebrations last night he's gone hunting?" And then she felt the tears burning in her eyes again. It was unforgivable of Eugene to treat her, an Orlov, in that neglectful way. His indifference was too much to be borne! Too proud to let Gustave see her reaction , she turned on her heel and hurried out without another word, only to run almost directly into a tall young officer in the uniform of the Imperial Household Guard. "You expect me to believe that after the celebrations last night he's gone hunting?" And then she felt the tears burning in her eyes again. It was unforgivable of Eugene to treat her, an Orlov, in that neglectful way. His indifference was too much to be borne! Too proud to let Gustave see her reaction , she turned on her heel and hurried out without another word, only to run almost directly into a tall young officer in the uniform of the Imperial Household Guard.

"Are you all right, highness?" he said in concerned tones.

Blinking back her tears, she looked up and saw that it was Valery Va.s.sian.

"Valery," she said with relief, "I'm so glad to see a familiar face."

"Your brother told me to look after you," he said softly in their home tongue. "Shall I escort you back to your apartments?"

So Valery knew Andrei was alive. She put her hand on Valery's arm and let him lead her back through the hordes of sweeping and scrubbing servants. And as they walked, her anger at her absent husband began to grow. The Melusine, Melusine, Andrei had said, would be sailing from Haeven-and a berth was booked for her. She glanced up at Valery and saw him blush and glance away. He had always looked out for her, even when they were children playing together at Erinaskoe, and she knew that his feelings for her were stronger than friendship. Andrei had said, would be sailing from Haeven-and a berth was booked for her. She glanced up at Valery and saw him blush and glance away. He had always looked out for her, even when they were children playing together at Erinaskoe, and she knew that his feelings for her were stronger than friendship.

Once safely back in her apartments, she sank down on a chair, all her energy exhausted.

"Can I get you anything: water, tea, coffee?" Valery offered. She pulled a face; even the thought of tea or coffee made her feel queasy.

"Valery," she said, looking up at him pleadingly. "Will you help me?"

He didn't even hesitate. "Tell me what you want to do," he said gallantly, "and I'll help you, no matter what."

"I can't stay here a moment longer. I want to go to join Andrei." She saw his eyes widen in surprise. "Valery, I shouldn't have asked this of you, I'm sorry-"

He went down on one knee before her. "I gave Andrei my word that I'd look after you and I never go back on my word. If that's what you wish, highness, then I'll make the arrangements straightaway. As discreetly as I can. Although until they've finished clearing up after the ball, no one will notice yet another carriage leaving the grounds."

Astasia was so touched at his words that the tears began to flow freely. "Thank you, Valery, I promise I'll make this up to you ..."