The Romanov Prophecy Page 0,57

unholy man I ever knew. Cheated on his wife, his kids, and his God."

"But he fathered you."

"He was there when my mother conceived, but he didn't father me. I raised myself."

She motioned to her chest. "He is still inside. Whether you want to admit it or not."

No, he didn't want to admit that. At one point, years ago, he'd seriously considered changing his last name. Only his mother's pleas had stopped him. "You realize, Akilina, this could all be made up."

"For what purpose? You have wondered for days why men are trying to kill you. This professor has provided an answer."

"Let them go find this Romanov survivor themselves. They have my information."

"Rasputin said only you and I could succeed."

He shook his head. "You don't really believe that?"

"I don't know what to believe. My grandmother told me, when I was a child, that she saw good things for me in life. Maybe she was right."

Not necessarily the answer he wanted, but there was something inside nudging him forward, too. If nothing else, this so-called quest would get him out of Moscow, away from Droopy and Cro-Magnon. And he couldn't deny being fascinated by the whole thing. Pashenko was right. There were an awful lot of coincidences that had come together over the past few days. He didn't for one minute believe Gregorii Rasputin had been able to predict the future, but he was intrigued by Felix Yussoupov's involvement.The Originator, Pashenko had called him, almost with reverence.

He recalled the man's history. Yussoupov was a bisexual transvestite who had murdered Rasputin out of a false belief that the fate of a nation rested on what he did. He took an almost perverse pride in his accomplishment and basked in the limelight of that foolish act for fifty years thereafter. He was another hypocritical showboat, a dangerous and malevolent fraud, like Rasputin and like Lord's own father. Yet Yussoupov was apparently involved in something that bespoke unselfishness.

"All right, Akilina. We'll do it. Why not? What else have I to do?" He glanced over at the kitchen door as Semyon Pashenko stepped back into the den.

"I just received some disturbing news," the older man said. "One of our associates, the one who carted away the man at the circus, did not show up at the assigned location with his prisoner. He's been found dead."

Droopy had escaped. Not a comforting prospect.

"I'm sorry," Akilina said. "He saved our lives."

Pashenko looked listless. "He knew the risks when he joined our Holy Band. He is not the first to die for this cause." The older man sat down in a chair, a tired look in his eyes. "And will probably not be the last."

"We've decided," Lord said, "to do it."

"I thought you might. But do not forget what Rasputin said.Twelve must die before the search is complete. "

Lord wasn't necessarily concerned about any hundred-year-old prophecy. Mystics had

been wrong before. Droopy and Cro-Magnon, though, were real, their threat immediate.

"You realize, Mr. Lord," Pashenko said, "that you were the object of the killing on Nikolskaya Prospekt four days ago, not Artemy Bely. Men are after you. Men whom I suspect already know some of what we know. These men will want to stop you."

"I assume," Lord said, "no one will know where we're going except you?"

"That's right. And it will stay that way. Only you, I, and Miss Petrovna know the details of the starting point."

"That's not entirely true. The man I work for knows of Alexandra's writing. But I don't see how he would connect any of this. And if he did, he would tell no one."

"Do you have any reason not to trust your employer?"

"I showed him that stuff two weeks ago and he never said a word about it. I don't think he even gave it much thought." He shifted in his seat. "Okay, since we've agreed to do it, how about explaining themore you alluded to earlier."

Pashenko sat up, emotion returning to his face. "The Originator set the search up in steps, each independent of the other. If the right person, with the right words, appeared at each step, information for the next would be provided. Only Yussoupov knew the entire plan and, if he is to be believed, he told no one.

"We now know that somewhere in the village of Starodug is the first leg. I checked after our talk a few days ago. Kolya Maks was one of Nicholas's palace guards who turned, after the revolution, to the Bolsheviks. By the time of