don’t think so. But it can be halted. Complete separation of the two vampires involved – if it has not gone too far.’
‘Too far?’
‘There comes a point where the weaker voordalak has lost his will sufficiently that he is beyond hope. However much he resists, the stronger can put into his mind the desire to return and exchange blood once again. It’s a vicious circle. I’ve known vampires so far gone that they attempt to claw their way through rock to get back to their master.’
‘I see.’
There was a long pause. Dmitry stared at the ground, but he could feel Iuda’s eyes bearing down upon him.
‘For what it’s worth, Mitka, I think you still have a chance.’
It was worth nothing, but why would Iuda lie about it? Did he even need a reason?
‘Now tell me about this Lukin,’ said Iuda briskly. ‘What’s he after?’
Dmitry swallowed. He did not want to tell Iuda the whole truth – that Lukin was his nephew, Aleksei’s grandson. Iuda might discover it soon enough for himself, but it gave Dmitry some last vestige of defiance to keep the secret for now. Besides, the boy had far more illustrious antecedents than that. He laughed weakly before replying. ‘You’ll never guess it, Vasya, but he’s a Romanov – the bastard son of Konstantin Nikolayevich.’ Iuda’s laughter was more hearty. ‘You’re sure?’
Dmitry could not help but smile. ‘Zmyeevich is – he can tell, of course.’
‘He can?’
‘In this case at least. Lukin drank some of Zmyeevich’s own blood, right in front of us. So Aleksandr Aleksandrovich is safe from Zmyeevich, and he couldn’t do anything – if he killed Lukin, the whole lot of them would be free.’
Iuda seemed intrigued. ‘Indeed they would. When did this happen?’
‘Wednesday,’ said Dmitry.
‘Two days ago,’ mused Iuda. ‘I take it you’re not going back to Zmyeevich.’
‘No.’ Why not, just for a little longer? ‘No,’ he added more firmly.
‘And what about Zmyeevich himself, will he stay in Petersburg?’
‘Why should he? There’s nothing he can do to the Romanovs now until Aleksandr Aleksandrovich dies and Nikolai Aleksandrovich becomes Nikolai II.’
‘You speak as though the current tsar were already dead.’
Dmitry managed a laugh. ‘He’s as good as. You know what’s going on.’
Iuda nodded. ‘That though was not the only thing that brought Zmyeevich to the capital.’
‘Ascalon, you mean?’
Iuda said nothing.
‘It’s gone,’ said Dmitry. ‘If it was ever there.’
‘It was there.’ Iuda seemed confident.
‘You found it?’
‘Long ago.’
‘And where is it now?’
Iuda emitted a mournful sigh and then began to speak in English:
‘This royal throne of kings, this sceptred isle,
This earth of majesty, this seat of Mars,
This other Eden, demi-paradise,
This fortress built by nature for herself
Against infection and the hand of war,
This happy breed of men, this little world,
This precious stone set in the silver sea,
Which serves it in the office of a wall,
Or as a moat defensive to a house,
Against the envy of less happier lands,
This blessed plot, this earth, this realm, this …’
Iuda came to a halt, gazing wistfully into nothingness, but Dmitry completed his words.
‘England?’ he said. He might have guessed simply from the language that Iuda had spoken, but he had taught himself English over the years, and what better way to learn it than by reading Shakespeare? ‘That’s where you’ve taken it?’
Iuda smiled. ‘I still have some property there. An estate in Essex. A house on Piccadilly.’
‘And in which have you hidden Ascalon?’
Iuda laughed. ‘Who says it’s in either? England may not be Russia, but it’s big enough to hide a little fragment of stained wood – and more.’
‘More?’
Iuda’s mood suddenly darkened. ‘I think you should go now, Dmitry.’
Dmitry felt suddenly alone. He realized he had been enjoying himself. Talking to Iuda was not like talking to Zmyeevich. In neither case could he say he was regarded as an equal, but unlike Zmyeevich, Iuda was a show-off and he saw Dmitry as a worthy audience. It made him better company. Dmitry doubted if he would ever be able to kill him, however much the latent spirit of Raisa begged it.
‘Why?’ Dmitry asked. ‘Couldn’t I come back later?’
‘I won’t be here later.’ Iuda paused and looked down at him.
‘Mitka, you’re a danger to me, you know that. Even if you don’t want to, you’ll tell Zmyeevich what you know. You don’t even need to tell him. He knows your mind. He knows you’re here. He knows I’m here.’
‘What if I refuse to leave?’
Iuda gave a curt smile. ‘Goodbye, Mitka.’ He turned and walked away, not towards the steps by which Dmitry had entered, but