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Angelopolis(73)

By:Danielle Trussoni


Vera said.

“You should remember Rasputin’s power over Alexei’s mother,” Valko said. “He was thought to

have cast a spell over Alexandra. He was charged with every kind of evil practice imaginable—of

holding black masses at the palace, of invoking demons to harm Alexandra’s enemies, of the sexual

practices associated with the Khlysty sect. Maybe there was a kernel of truth to the rumors. But if he

hadn’t come up with a cure, he would have lost all power over the imperial family.” Valko looked

out the doorway, as if the morning star were pulling him toward some distant memory. “I was a boy

of nine years when the tsarevitch was executed with his family. Despite his Nephil lineage, despite

all that I knew to be wrong with imperial Russia, I remember feeling a profound horror at the thought

of his murder, horror at the pain he must have suffered as he and his family were led into the cold and

shot. Horror, in the end, at the cruelty of humankind. I cannot say why, but I felt a strange kinship—

something like brotherhood—for this murdered child. When his body disappeared and rumors

abounded that he lived, I wondered if he was perhaps hiding somewhere, waiting to return.”

Azov exchanged a look with Vera and said, “Just last month, genetic tests identified the remains of

Alexei Romanov. They were found in a communal grave in Ekaterinburg.”

“And so Rasputin’s success or failure meant nothing,” Valko said. “Revolution would have snuffed

out any progress Rasputin had made with Alexei.”

“What I don’t understand,” Azov said, “is why Angela became involved in all of this. What did she

hope to gain from the formula?”

“Remember, it was Rasputin, not Angela, who actually attempted to produce the medicine of

Noah,” Valko said. “My daughter’s efforts may have had the appearance of such an endeavor, but the

true nature of her work was something else entirely.”

“Such as?” Vera asked.

“Performing a wedding,” Valko said and, seeing Vera’s surprise, he added, “A chemical wedding.

The concept is invoked as a symbol for chemical union  : a female element and a male element being

brought together in an unbreakable, eternal bond. This marriage of disparate elements brings forth a

new element, often called the Alchemical Child.” Valko turned to Vera and placed a hand on

Rasputin’s journal, brushing her arm. “May I?” he asked.

Vera felt an instant reaction to Raphael Valko’s touch. Something about him made her profoundly

aware of herself—she glanced down at her sweaty, wrinkled clothes, the same clothes she’d worn to

work when Verlaine and Bruno showed up at the Hermitage, and wondered how she appeared to a

man like Valko.

Valko turned through Rasputin’s journal, finally stopping at a page of hastily written sentences. “I

read this page thirty-two years ago with Angela. She understood the value of Noah’s medicine, and

she was intent upon re-creating it.” Valko gave Azov a nod. “That is how you came into our

acquaintance, Hristo. But it wasn’t only Rasputin’s recipe that caught her attention.” He ran a finger

along the page until it rested upon a drawing of an egg painted in a wash of gold and scarlet.

Vera recognized another egg, this one different from the others, the fourth of the missing eggs she

had seen in two days.

“This aquarelle, made by one of the grand duchesses, probably the talented Tatiana, was of great

interest to Angela. She believed it to have been copied under the guidance of Rasputin’s predecessor,

Monsieur Philippe—the spiritual adviser who undertook to give the tsar and tsarina an heir. You see,

it is the Nécessaire Egg, one of the most practical of the eggs, holding all the important toiletry

utensils an empress might need. Contrary to what historians believe about the egg, it was wildly

expensive to make, with rubies and colored diamonds studding the egg itself and the toilet articles

fashioned of gold.”

“It looks,” Vera said, leaning close, “as if there is a snake biting its tail drawn below the egg.”

“Well spotted,” Valko said. “It is something that Angela found intriguing about the egg.”

“This symbol is very well-known,” Sveti offered. “The ouroboros, the alpha and omega, is a sign

of death and rebirth, regeneration and new life. The passage below it contains the words of Jesus, ‘I

am the Alpha and Omega, the first and the last, the beginning and the end.’ Revelation 22:13.”

“Yes, of course,” Valko said. “In this respect, the Nécessaire Egg is an echo of the Blue Serpent