It was humiliating when Elena and the others found out I was not attending the ball. I could not tell anyone the truth, so I shrugged and scowled and pouted a lot. I hoped I would be able to spend the evening looking for the ghost again. I sat on my bed and pretended to read my Greek poetry while Alix, Elena, and Aurora got dressed.

"And where did you think you needed to sneak out to?" Elena hadn't stopped fussing at me all day. "Of all the stupid things to do, Katerina! Missing the ball!"

"Perhaps she does not enjoy parading around in front of thousands of strangers," Alix said. She was calmly pinning up her hair, but I could see she looked a little pale. I knew she was nervous about her first Smolny Ball.

"My dear Hessian princess," Elena said, twirling around in her white dress and looking at herself in the tiny mirror, "that is the best part."

I rolled my eyes. I wanted to get a message to Grand Duchess Xenia, but there was no one I trusted to deliver it. Not Alix and definitely not Elena. I had considered sneaking out to the ball anyway, but what would I accomplish? I would only anger the empress even more, and for what? Petya should have been able to get word to George by now. I had sent my brother a letter written in the same code as his, begging for more information, but had heard nothing from him. In the end, I decided it was better for me to use my time at Smolny alone to investigate the ghost in the library.

I pretended to yawn. "I hope you three do not wake me when you come home."

"I suppose we'll have to tell you all about the festivities in the morning," Elena said. "Sweet dreams, Katerina."

"Have a wonderful time," I said.

I heard Elena say "Hmmph!" as she stomped off down the hallway, with a definitely nervous Alix and an excited Aurora following along behind her. I snuggled down under my covers and read until I was sure everyone had left for the ball.

When the school was silent, I slid back out of bed and headed for the library. I could hear people talking in the kitchen.

"It came out of nowhere, Madame," said Masha, the school cook.

"Don't be ridiculous. It's a frying pan. It had to come from somewhere." It was the headmistress's voice. Something very bad must have happened for her to be up this late.

"Olga was washing the pots. The frying pan came at her from the other side. There was no one else here with us."

"Get someone to clean this mess up. Olga, can you stand up?" I heard the kitchen girl moan in reply. Madame Tomilov sighed. "Masha, can you fetch Sister Anna?"

If the ghost was throwing frying pans at people, she was becoming dangerous. I slipped past the kitchen and hurried on to the library before Masha came out and the headmistress could see me.

The library was one of the few rooms in the entire institute that had an electric light. I flipped the switch, and the room was flooded with a dim glow. It was empty, of course. All of the younger girls had gone to bed hours earlier. Everything was in its place, the books lined up neatly on the shelves, the cushion sitting perfectly on the chair, the magazines in a neat stack on the end table. I sat down in the chair and closed my eyes, wondering if the ghost was finished with her hauntings for the night. The forbidding presence I'd felt last week was gone. "Marija?" I whispered, afraid the headmistress would hear me. "Are you in here with me?"

Silence.

"Marija?"

There was a soft sound, like someone exhaling. A heavy breath. The forbidding feeling was coming back. The impulse to get up and leave the room. She was definitely here.

I had no idea what to do with a ghost, especially when I could not see the cold light. "Marija, I'd like to talk with you. You need to stop frightening the girls. You can't stay here anymore."

The soft hissing sound grew louder. She was becoming angry. I shook my head. "I can't leave until we're finished talking, Marija. Why did you hurt the kitchen girl tonight?"

Suddenly, I was struck across the face with a force that knocked me back in the chair. I yelled out.

My cheek stung. I scrambled up out of the chair. I could still see nothing else in the room with me. The forbidding presence was overwhelming. I felt it closing in around me, as if trying to smother me. I backed away toward the door. "You cannot keep hurting people, Marija! You have to leave!"

"What in the name of the saints is going on here?" I heard Madame Tomilov's voice as she stomped down the hallway toward the library.

The pressure on me did not let up as I reached the doorway and backed into the headmistress.

"Katerina Alexandrovna! What is the meaning of this?"

Sister Anna arrived right behind Madame Tomilov. "Child, what happened to your face?" she asked. She looked frightened as she stared at me.

I put my hand up to my cheek. "Did she leave a mark?"

"Who did this to you?" Madame's voice was stern. She grabbed my chin and tilted my head up so she could examine my face more closely.

"I ..." What could I say? "I think it was the ghost."

Madame closed her eyes as she sighed. Behind her I heard Sister Anna gasp, "Mon Dieu!" and she crossed herself.

"What did you think you were doing in here?" the headmistress asked.

"I just wanted to get a book. I couldn't sleep." Part of what I told her was true, at least.

"Go back to bed, Katerina. I'm sure this will all seem like a terrible dream in morning."

She was not going to admit that I'd been attacked by the ghost. Which meant that all of the girls at Smolny were in danger. I turned around and took one last look in the library. The presence still seemed to be in there, waiting. But I had no desire to communicate with her again.

"Oui, Madame," I said finally to the headmistress, and went back to my bedroom.

The ghost had not stayed in the library. When I reached my room, there was a message from her, in neat black letters on the floor in front of my bed. It was not in French but in Russian.

I traced the lettering with my hand. The words had been burned or scorched into the wooden floor. I shuddered. I got a rag and tried to rub the words out but they would not budge. I pulled a throw rug over the letters and got ready for bed. I glanced in the mirror and saw the red handprint still stinging my cheek. She had definitely left her mark.

I lay awake in bed for several hours, fretting over the ghost. If she wasn't Elena's sister, then who was she?

"Marija died of consumption when she was fifteen. Her body was carried back to the Black Mountain for her burial." It was the crown prince.

I rubbed my eyes. I was too tired to argue with him. Why are you bothering me again, Your Highness?

"You have accused my family of terrible things. Of course my sister's body is properly buried in Cetinje. There is no way Marija's spirit could be restless. Or imprisoned at your beloved Smolny."

Forgive me, Your Highness. I did not mean to imply any such thing. There must have been other girls who had died at Smolny Institute over the years. There had to be a way to find out who they were. But I was certain Madame Tomilov would not tell me.

"I had hoped to see you at the ball this evening, my beloved. There was another who was searching for you."

My heart leapt. "George?" I whispered.

The crown prince's laugh was cruel. "No. He was not in attendance this evening. It was your brother, the young Oldenburg. He was very upset when he heard that you had gotten into trouble at Smolny."

I sighed, overwhelmed with disappointment. I knew Petya would not have mentioned anything about the Order to Danilo. I wondered if he'd been able to get in touch with George.

"Do not feel too bad, my dear. I have heard news of your Romanov friend. He is still in Paris, with the Black Magi."

"Who are the Black Magi?" I demanded. "And how do you know this?"

"They are a secret sect of magicians in Paris who conjure spirits to do their bidding. Your friend is learning many new things as he studies with these men. Dark things."

"There is a specific reason that he is studying with them. Some special knowledge he needs for the tsar," I said, trying to defend George, and trying to make sense of this news myself. Was the tsar aware of the true nature of the Black Magi? What if the traitor within the Order had sent George to see these magi? "How do you know all of this?" I repeated. "And when was the last time you saw George Alexandrovich?"

"I?" Danilo laughed. "If I never see the tsar's son again it will be too soon. I have many friends in Paris, however. Loyal friends."

I took a deep breath, and tried to calm down. My heart was pounding out of my chest. "Danilo, would you warn me if the grand duke was in any specific danger?"

His soft laughter made me nauseous. "I know many grand dukes, Katerina. How can I possibly keep up with them all?"

"You know I am speaking of George Alexandrovich. Is he in danger right now?"

"It depends on what you consider danger, Duchess. I am beginning to believe the other magi are in more danger from him and his growing powers. He has started down a dark path, my dear."

"You are lying to me." I rolled over in my bed, putting the pillow over my head as if it would shut out the crown prince. Of course, it did not.

"Katerina, why would I lie to you? It matters not to me what the grand duke does. He is not bound to you like I am."

"The blood bond means nothing, Danilo. I will never marry you."

"We shall see, Katerina. We shall see."

There was no way on earth that George would use dark magic. He belonged to the Court of Light. He was half fae. And half whatever the tsar was. The rumors that our sovereign was a shape shifter had dwindled in the previous years, but according to Maman he'd been called Sasha the Bear when he was younger. And not just for his size. But none of the tsar's children were shifters. And none of them were as powerful in fae magic as their mother. But what if George had received the gifts from both of his parents, and with the occult knowledge he was learning in Paris, all of it had somehow changed him?

Suddenly, I felt sick to my stomach. What if I had been the cause? Had my dark powers changed him in any way? I wanted to cry. I could never live with myself if I had somehow tainted the grand duke's soul.

"Such a guilty conscience," Danilo said. I'd forgotten all about him. His laughter mocked my pain.

"Please leave me in peace," I whispered, tears rolling onto my pillow.

"Do not cry, Duchess," he said. "There may be some hope for your grand duke after all."

"Leave me be!"

The silence was immediate. I was alone with my pain and my tortured thoughts. I did not know if I'd pushed him away on my own, or if he'd just decided he'd had enough of taunting me. Either way, I was glad. I was exhausted and wanted nothing more than to sleep the rest of the night away. With no dreams.

But I did wake up when the girls returned from the ball. They stumbled in late, just hours before dawn. I had no interest in hearing their tales. I already knew what I'd wanted most to know. George had not been there. And the ghost that was haunting Smolny was not Elena's sister Marija.