Boris Akunin - She Lover of Death

‘Between.’

‘Between what and what?’

‘Between something and nothing.’

‘Ask what he’s feeling now,’ the Lioness whispered excitedly.

‘Tell me, Avaddon, what feelings are you experiencing now?’

‘Fear . . . I’m afraid . . . very afraid . . .’

Poor little Ophelia started shaking all over, her teeth even started chattering, and her pink little lips turned purple.

‘Why did you decide to leave this life?’

‘I was sent a Sign.’

Everybody held their breath.

‘What Sign?’

The spirit didn’t answer for a long time. Ophelia opened and closed her mouth without making any sound, her forehead wrinkled up as if she was trying very hard to listen to something, her nostrils distended. Columbine felt afraid now that the medium would start talking meaningless gibberish, as she had during all the latest seances.

‘Howling . . .’ Ophelia exclaimed hoarsely. ‘A terrible, eerie howling . . . A voice calling me . . . It’s a Beast . . . She has sent a Beast for me . . . I can’t bear it! One more line, just write the last line, and then no more, no more, no more. Oh, where am I? Oh, where am I? Oh, where am I?’

After that the words became unintelligible. Ophelia was shaking all over. She suddenly opened her eyes, and there was such inexpressible horror in them that several people cried out.

‘Go back! Go back immediately!’ Genji exclaimed abruptly. ‘Go in peace, Avaddon. And you, Ophelia, come to me. This way, this way . . . Calmly now.’

She gradually came round. She shuddered and started sobbing. The Lioness hugged her, kissed her on the top of her head and murmured something reassuring.

But Columbine sat there, overwhelmed by the blood-chilling revelation. A Sign! The Sign of the Beast! Death had sent a Beast to Avaddon, her Chosen One! ‘The Beast is near!’ ‘The sated Beast!’ It wasn’t a metaphor, not just a figure of speech!

At that moment she glanced round and saw Prospero standing in the doorway that led from the drawing room into the hallway and watching everyone who had taken part in the seance. There was a strange, lost expression frozen on his face. She suddenly felt so sorry for him – no words could have expressed it! In Christ’s twelve disciples, there had only been one Judas, but here every one of them had betrayed and abandoned their teacher.

She jumped to her feet impetuously and walked over to Prospero, but he didn’t even glance at her – he was looking at Ophelia and slowly shaking his head, as if he couldn’t believe what he saw.

The aspirants started to leave, talking among themselves in low voices.

Columbine waited for them all to go. Then she would be left alone with the Doge and she would show him that there were such things as true devotion and love in the world. Today she would not be his submissive puppet, but his genuine lover. Their relationship would be changed once and for all! Never again would he feel betrayed and alone!

Then Prospero spoke those cherished words, but they were not addressed to Columbine.

He beckoned to Ophelia with one finger and said in a quiet voice: ‘Stay. I’m worried about you.’

Then he took her by the hand and led her after him into the depths of the house.

She trotted along behind submissively – small, pale and exhausted after associating with the spirits. But her little face was aglow with joyful surprise. Well, she might be half-witted, but she was still a woman! Unable to bear the sight of that idiotic smile, Columbine stamped her foot, dashed headlong out of the house, and then strode backwards and forwards in front of the porch, not really sure what to do or where to go.

Just then Genji came out, glanced thoughtfully at the distressed young lady and bowed.

‘The hour is late. Will you allow m-me to see you home, Mademoiselle Columbine?’

‘I’m not afraid of wandering through the night alone,’ she answered in a faltering voice and then couldn’t go on as the sobs rose in her throat.

‘Nonetheless, I will escort you,’ Genji said resolutely.

He took her by the arm and led her away from that cursed house. She didn’t have the strength to argue or refuse.

‘Strange,’ Genji said pensively, seeming not to notice the state his companion was in. ‘I always used to think that spiritualism was a f-fraud or, at best, self-deception. But Made-moiselle Ophelia does not seem like a liar or a hysterical girl. She’s an interesting specimen. And what she t-told us is also extremely interesting.’

‘Really?’ Columbine asked, squinting sideways at the Japanese prince and sniffing inelegantly.

A melancholy thought came to her: Even this one finds Ophelia more interesting than me.

She was found by a boatman

She was found by a boatman. The hem of her dress had caught on one of the piers of the Ustinsky Bridge, where the Yauza joins the River Moscow. She was swaying there, in the murky green water, her loose hair rippling like waterweed in the current. It was Genji who told me, he knows everything and he has connections everywhere. He even has informers in the police.

First she disappeared, and Prospero didn’t gather us together for two days, because the seances were impossible without her in any case.

During those days, I didn’t know what to do with myself. I went to the general shop once and bought half a pound of tea and two baumkuchen pastries for four kopecks each. I nibbled on one, but didn’t even touch the other. I went out to have lunch at the small local restaurant, read the entire menu and only ordered Seltzer water. The rest of the time I simply sat on the bed and looked at the wall. I wasn’t there. I didn’t feel hungry at all. Or sleepy.

It was as if the doll had been put back in her dusty box, and she just lay there, staring at the ceiling with her glass eyes. There was no reason to go anywhere. I tried writing a poem, but I couldn’t. Apparently I can’t manage any longer without our meetings, without Prospero. I can’t manage at all.

Pierrot came and talked about some nonsense or other, I hardly even listened. He took my hand and squeezed it and kissed it for a long time. It tickled, and then I got fed up of it, and I pulled my hand away.

Yesterday the Lioness of Ecstasy unexpectedly came to call and stayed for a long time. I was flattered by this visit. She’s talkative, with broad, sweeping gestures, and she smokes papirosas all the time. She’s amusing to be with, only she seems unhappy somehow, although she claims that she lives a full life. She thinks of herself as a great connoisseur of men. She said that Prospero was probably once badly hurt or humiliated by a woman and so he’s afraid of them, he doesn’t let them get close to him and prefers to torment them. Then she looked at me expectantly, waiting to see if I would offer any revelations. But I didn’t. Then the Lioness started making confessions of her own. She has two lovers, both well-known men (she said it with the meaning of ‘too well-known’) – the editor of a newspaper and a certain Great Poet. They adore her immeasurably, but she toys with them as if they were pet dogs. ‘The secret of handling men is simple,’ the Lioness lectured me. ‘If you don’t know this secret, they become dangerous and unpredictable. But they’re basically primitive and easy to manage. No matter how old he might be or what high position he might hold, deep in his heart every one of them is a boy, an adolescent. You have to treat a man like a one-year-old bulldog – the foolish creature’s teeth have already grown, so it’s best not to tease him, but you must not be afraid of him. Flatter them a little, intrigue them a little, scratch them behind the ear every now and then, do not torment them too long, otherwise their attention will be caught by another bone that is more accessible. Deal with them like this, my child, and you will see that a man is the very dearest of creatures: undemanding, useful and very, very grateful.’