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too hasty to judge him before Imet him? Still, I would not be so stupid as to willingly give my own hair to a witch.
    “Of course he is, Katerina,” Elena said. “Please let me take some of your hair to him, as a friendship token.”
    “My mother would be horrified,” I said, trying to think up another excuse. Militza smiled, but it was not a friendly smile. “Come, Elena. We must not frighten your poor friend with our own country’s customs. They must sometimes seem barbaric to society here in St. Petersburg.”
    “Forgive me,” I said, blushing. “I don’t think it barbaric at all. I just … My mother would think it improper. I have no wish to upset her when she is unwell.”
    As scared as I was to let them possess even one strand of my hair, insulting the Montenegrins terrified me even more. I was anxious for them to leave. I would feel much safer when they were miles away from St. Petersburg.
    Militza stood up, her two sisters following. “We have imposed upon you far too long, Katerina Alexandrovna. We must go to the train station soon, and we do have other goodbyes to make.”
    Elena embraced me. “You must write to me about the parties I am missing.” She reached up, pulled a stray hair of mine off my shoulder, and grinned wickedly. “Look what I have found. Danilo will be able to see the color of your hair after all!” She tucked my hair in her handbag.
    I fought the rising panic inside. Perhaps no harm would come of this. In fact, I prayed no harm would come of it.
    Stana smiled. “Farewell, dear. We will certainly see each other again soon.”
    As I watched their sleigh drive off down Millionaya Street, I grew worried. How would I be able to protect myself from the Montenegrins’ magic? I could not tell Maman everything I knew about the wicked princesses. I did not want her to grow hysterical once more.
    I found my mother in her rose-scented boudoir, studying her deck of tarot cards. “Maman,” I said with a sigh. “You’ll get yourself worked up again.”
    She waved a hand at me. “Don’t be silly. I think it was Madame Marina’s deck that caused me such discomfort. These are my own cards, from a gypsy woman in Biarritz. These have never lied to me.” She pulled one card after another, carefully laying them in a cross-shaped pattern on her quilt.
    Maman’s cat Sasha glared at me from across the room. His scraggly gray tail twitched nervously. “What if Papa discovers your fortune-telling cards?” I asked.
    It was Maman’s turn to sigh. “I know he thinks it’s nonsense, but I see problems for your father,” she said, “and many obstacles and delays in his projects. Sometimes I can help him forestall them. These cards have been a boon to our household. Here.” She laid down the Hanged Man.
    It was best to humor her. “I thought the cards were telling you about me,” I said as Sasha began to purr. “Where is my knight in shining armor?”
    Maman smiled at me. “I’ve already seen your future this morning. And my deck has told me that you’re going to meet your handsome knight very soon, if you haven’t already.” She gathered up her cards and put them back intheir silver-plated box. “Have I ever told you the story of the bogatyr?”
    I shook my head, trying in vain to remember. “Is this another fairy tale?” Our library was full of fairy tale collections, from many different countries. When I was little, I’d spent hours gazing at the beautiful illustrations.
    “Yes, Katiya, but this one is very important. Long ago, the bogatyr was a very strong warrior-tsar who protected Russia from evil wizards. He also fought and killed a wicked dragon named Vladimir. The bogatyr lived for more than a hundred years, and it is said that he returns from time to time when Russia has need of him. But for him to return, the current tsar must pay a great price.”
    “A great price?” I asked.
    “A secret ritual must be performed in order to transform the current tsar into the