Someone to Watch Over Me

by Colorado1

Danger! Mystery! Secrets! Romance! Angst! Love!

NOTES: Summerlee lives in my universe. This story is historically accurate (you'll see what I mean).

DISCLAIMERS: Except for Roxton, Marguerite, Malone, Challenger, Veronica, and Summerlee—everyone else belongs to me. And I really ought to start writing for cash.

SPOILERS: None, but several episodes are referenced as well as the preceding story in this series, Defy the Heavens.

RATING: PG-13

THANKS: I'm indebted to Beth and Ryalin for beta reading and catching so many mistakes. Plus, a special thanks to Ryalin, who took my idea and gave it a twist, which resulted in this story.

Someone to Watch Over Me By Colorado

Won't you tell him please

 to put on some speed?

Follow my lead, 

oh, how I need

Someone to watch over me

The sun lay like a cracked egg yolk in the murky morning sky. The clammy night fog had burned off quickly, leaving glistening dewdrops on palm fronds and bushes below. Veronica happily hummed a strain of Beethoven as she started the breakfast fire. This was the explorers' first day back home after rescuing Roxton from Shadow River. She heard his strong voice and easy laugh from Professor George Challenger's lab where he was asking the professor about his latest invention.

"Need a hand?" Marguerite came up behind her, still limping a little from her recent infection.

"With breakfast? Why, may I ask?" Veronica inquired suspiciously. Marguerite was a skilled linguist, but cooking wasn't her forte.

The heiress smiled brightly. "This is a lovely morning. The birds are singing, the sun is shining, the dinosaurs are…well, they're doing whatever dinosaurs do. Everything is perfectly normal."

Veronica handed her some fruit to peel, then stopped abruptly. "Normal? Everything?"

Marguerite nodded happily. "I'm a healthy woman again."

Veronica practically shrieked and embraced her friend. It had been months since Marguerite had taken an herbal cure to rid her of the last lingering side effect of a poisonous spider bite—her inability to become pregnant. Veronica had been afraid that, after all this time, it hadn't worked.

"We have to let the others know!" she exclaimed.

"In polite society, these things aren't discussed," Marguerite admonished her but still smiled ear-to-ear.

"Well, we're family," Veronica responded firmly.

"What's all the commotion about?" Challenger entered the room followed by Arthur Summerlee. Marguerite rushed to the older man and hugged him.

"Marguerite has news!" Veronica exclaimed. "Where's Roxton?"

The handsome hunter bounded upstairs. "What is it?"

Marguerite took a deep breath. "Summerlee's cure worked. I'm fine. Everything is just as it should be."

Roxton whooped with joy and lifted her off her feet. The others offered their congratulations.

"Does this mean we'll hear the pitter-patter of little feet soon?" Malone teased. "I mean, you two are engaged now."

Marguerite shot him a warning glance. "Only if you turn into a monkey, Malone," she cautioned.

Marguerite and Roxton walked hand-in-hand to the balcony. John drank in his fiancée with his eyes. She was radiant. Her dark, wavy hair was pulled back and her gray eyes sparkled. A fitted blue blouse and khaki skirt accentuated her trim figure.

"Marguerite, I'm so pleased for you," he began.

"It looks like there will be an heir to the Roxton estate after all," she teased. "Someday, that is."

"Malone does have a point," Roxton leaned against the railing.

Marguerite stared at his long, muscular back for a moment, then joined him at the railing. "What do you mean?" she asked, confused.

"Shouldn't we discuss when we're getting married? And, someday, starting a family?"

Marguerite stared off into the distance. "Do you think the king will come to the ceremony?" she asked in a strange tone of voice.

"The Zanga king? He most likely will."

"No, silly, our king. The king of England."

Now it was Roxton's turn to be confused. "I really don't see His Majesty hopping on the first boat out here."

"You know I meant our wedding after we get home," she said emphasizing the last word.

He grew serious. "My love, I wasn't planning to wait until we get back to England to marry you."

"Oh yes!" Marguerite let out a contemptuous laugh. "I'll just head down to the local church and see if the vicar is available Saturday. Come on, John! We have more than enough time to plan a wonderful wedding."

"Time is the problem. We don't know when we'll get off this plateau. I don't want to wait to marry you."

Marguerite looked down at her hands. "I'm walking down the aisle to Mendelssohn, not native drums."

He turned to face her. "We might get out of here in 10 minutes, or 10 years. You know that. Why are you dragging your feet?"

"I'm not!" was her upset reply

"Do you regret agreeing to be my wife?" he asked, his ire beginning to grow.

"No!" she shouted defensively. "Being married in a church doesn't matter?" she suddenly added.

"It's important, yes, but in this wilderness, we don't know what will happen. I don't want to wait another moment to begin my life with you."

Marguerite smiled slyly and ran her fingers along his arm. "Don't you mean you don't want to wait for the honeymoon?"

Roxton smiled. For all their passion, they had never done more than kiss. He pulled her close and slowly slid his hands down her back. "Are you telling me you feel differently?"

Marguerite brought her lips up to barely brush his cheek. "You know I don't," she breathed.

"Then what's the problem?" he buried his face in her neck. A loud bang from the kitchen caused them to spring apart. Marguerite gestured dramatically.

"There! That's one of the problems! How can we begin life together as a married couple without more…private surroundings?"

"Well, we'll just have to work something out. Perhaps our own tree house?"

"John, that's just one problem. We have a lot to talk about, to work out. There's so much you don't know about me," she said slowly.

"I'd like to spend the rest of my life finding out," he said in a throaty voice.

"John, I need more time," she said.

"You're stalling! Why?"

"I'm going to become Lady Roxton with a society wedding and a lovely house in London and an estate in the country. That's how we'll start married life," she declared.

"So, that's it? You have the last word?" he asked angrily.

"Yes, I do!" she declared, equally as peeved. She turned heel and walked through the living area.

"Where are you going?" he shouted.

"Somewhere you're not!" she responded as she grabbed her hat and rifle.

Summerlee, Challenger, Ned, and Veronica watched the pair in amusement. It was good to have everything back to normal.

"Marguerite!" Roxton yelled as she descended in the elevator.

"Don't follow me!" her voice trailed back.

Roxton stomped through the underbrush, Ned and Veronica bringing up the rear. He held his rifle in a strangling grip and muttered under his breath.

"So, she has the last word? I think not! Damn stubborn woman."

"Roxton, you both need some time to cool down," said Malone. "Why not leave her alone a bit more?"

"An hour is…." he began but was interrupted by a cacophony of sound: a T-Rex bellowed, a woman screamed, and several shots were fired.

Roxton's blood ran cold. "Marguerite!" he shouted and ran headlong toward the noise.

"I hate it when this happens," Ned said, raising his rifle.

They entered a field to see a young T-Rex lunging toward a group of boulders. The stones were too large for it to get its snout between them. And whatever his prey was, it was hiding in the rocks.

"Hey, you big balook!" Roxton shouted and fired several shots. The dinosaur considered him for a minute and roared again. Malone began shooting, and between the two of them, they scared it off. Roxton charged toward the rocks. "Marguerite! Answer me!"

He wedged through an opening and entered a small clearing. He jerked his gun up. Instead of Marguerite, he faced three strangers.

Roxton confronted a young man, roughly in his early-20s, who stood a head shorter than him. Wavy, disheveled dark hair reached the collar of his frayed shirt. An uneven beard darkened his cheeks. But what stood out most of all were his large, expressive blue eyes under a fringe of long lashes. At that moment, they mirrored the fear that was coursing through his body.

Behind him, huddled on the ground with her arms over her head, was a young woman with her back to Roxton. Her poor traveling clothes were tattered. Next to her was an elderly man with a long, white beard. His eyes were closed and his chin rested on his chest. All three, clearly of European descent, were emaciated.

Roxton heard Malone and Veronica behind him. Veronica, too, stared at the young man and his haunting eyes. But more than that, she noticed how the rifle he held shook.

"We don't mean you any harm," Roxton said slowly. The young man positioned himself in front of the woman. She then looked over her shoulder at them. Not even her distressed condition could deter her beauty. Her long reddish-brown hair was pulled off her thin but perfectly symmetrical face. She looked at her valiant protector, then at the explorers. Something hard and cold formed in her blue eyes. Veronica knew the girl would certainly leap to her feet to protect the young man just as he stood trying to protect her.

"Please, let us help you," Veronica said. The boy motioned for them to back away and said something in a foreign tongue.

"Do you recognize that?" Roxton whispered to Malone.

The young journalist shook his head. "Where is Marguerite when you need her?"

As if on cue, Marguerite burst through the opening. "John!" She stopped short, surveying the scene. "Who are these unfortunate people?"

Veronica shook her head. "We don't know. We have to help them, but they don't seem to understand English."

Marguerite nodded and lowered her gun. Many times in the past she instinctively could understand foreign languages or symbols. The young man pointed his rifle as she approached. "Whoa, now. We don't want to hurt you. My name is Marguerite Krux."

"Stay away from us!" he shouted in his native language.

"My name is Marguerite Krux," she said again, this time in Russian. "That is Lord John Roxton, Veronica Layton, and Ned Malone. We're part of the stranded Challenger expedition. Perhaps you've heard of us?"

Eyeing her carefully, he said: "No. Now leave us."

"Your companions don't look well. Please, come home with us. We have medicine, food, and water."

"No."

"Alyosha?" the girl said quietly. Immediately, he looked down at her. His features softened and his eyes grew tender. The girl raised a trembling hand and he held it quietly. After a moment, Alyosha looked back at Marguerite.

"Yes, we will go with you."

"They'll come," Marguerite told the others. "They're Russian."

"What are their names? What are they doing here?" asked Malone.

"We didn't get that far," Marguerite replied. To their guests, she said, "We live nearby."

Alyosha reached for the girl, but his knees buckled. Roxton helped steady him while Ned extended his hands to her.

"No!" Alyosha shouted frantically.

"I don't think he wants you to touch her," Veronica whispered. She walked to the girl and, supporting her around the waist, helped her stand. Ned and Marguerite roused the older man, who appeared to be asleep. He looked around in fear, then let them guide him out of the rocks.

Challenger and Summerlee greeted their houseguests with infinite care. The older gentleman was put in Challenger's room; the girl was half led, half carried to Marguerite's. Protesting, Alyosha was nearly forced into Ned's room by Roxton.

"Marguerite!" he called as Alyosha fought to get out of bed. "Tell him he has to rest!"

"Here now!" she flew to the boy's side.

"She… she…" he mumbled.

"She is fine. She's asleep right now, just as you should be. You're safe here." As she spoke, his muscles relaxed and his eyes rolled back in his head. Silently, Marguerite stood next to Roxton.

"He was worried about the girl."

"I think he'd throw himself in a volcano for her," Roxton observed, slipping his arm around her waist.

"I wonder who they are," she mused.

The strangers slept hard for 24 hours, allowing Summerlee and Challenger to perform cursory examinations unimpeded.

"From what I can tell, they're suffering from malnutrition and extreme exhaustion," Challenger reported. "But the girl is also running a fever. I'll go to the lab and mix up some willow-bark tea."

"We're lucky Alyosha is asleep, or Challenger never would have gotten near her," smirked Veronica.

At the mention of the young man's name, Roxton stood and looked in on Alyosha. The cares of the world seemed to rest heavily on him, even in slumber. Roxton couldn't shake the image of the boy's terror during their meeting. As if he had heard Roxton's thoughts, Alyosha awoke.

"Katarina!" he called. Roxton quickly sat down next to him.

"Katarina? Oh, the girl. She's fine," he said and was greeted by a look of confusion. "I know you can't understand me, but Katarina is well. The girl?" He gestured to the next room. "Katarina. Asleep." He rested his head on his folded hands, closed his eyes, and breathed in and out loudly. Alyosha smiled a little, enjoying the hunter's antics.

"I'm John," Roxton said, pointing to his chest. "John Roxton."

Alyosha hestitated, then understood. "Alyosha Rusanov."

"Hello, Alyosha," Roxton said with a smile. He left the room to return a minute later with a cup of meat broth. "This will give you some energy."

Alyosha gratefully drank every drop and gestured for more. After the third cup, Roxton showed him to the shower. "You may use my razor, if you'd like. And here are some clean clothes."

He handed Alyosha an old pair of Ned's khakis and a white shirt of his own, a towel, and his shaving kit. Alyosha peered into the shower and nodded. Roxton left and happily heard the water running soon after.

"Made a new friend, have we?" Marguerite asked as he came into the living area.

"He's just a lad, out here with a girl and an old man to protect."

Marguerite kissed her fiancé on the cheek, happy he had forgotten their argument. "Well, if you've taken him under your wing, he'll be just fine."

Alyosha stayed in the shower until the water reserve was empty. Now clean-shaven, he looked even younger than before. Veronica hid a grin as he slowly padded toward them on bare feet. Malone's pants were fine in length, but Alyosha had to cinch them in around his narrow waist with his old belt. Roxton's shirt, however, hung on him like a tent. He self-consciously fingered the small cleft in his chin.

"I'd be happy to alter that shirt for you," Marguerite said.

"I would like that, thank you," he whispered. Seeing the bountiful spread of food on the table, his mouth fell open and he ran towards it.

"Tell him to slow down, Marguerite!" Summerlee advised. She cautioned the young man not to make himself ill. He obediently slowed his pace and started with the healthy vegetable soup Veronica put before him. If he remembered Veronica from the previous day, he didn't recall her attire because as she walked away, his mouth again fell open.

"She certainly has that affect on men," Marguerite said under her breath.

A loud noise from the other side of the house made everyone jump. From Challenger's room came the old man. Tall and balding, he clearly had been robust once, but now his shoulders were stooped and he was too thin. Alyosha ran to him and they exchanged kisses on both cheeks. The man wasn't well but did look better than the day before. His soft brown eyes were clear but a troublesome cough still lingered.

"I have an extra pair of trousers he can have. And a shirt," Summerlee said. Marguerite relayed the information, and the old man nodded his thanks.

"Would you mind if we asked you a few questions?" Marguerite began gently after they had eaten. Alyosha and the man exchanged glances, and Alyosha nodded. The others watched, fascinated, as Marguerite spoke in Russian and the two men responded with animated gestures. At one point, the old man began to cry. Marguerite's face reflected a range of emotions: sympathy, anger, and sadness. At last, she turned to her curious friends.

"This is Alyosha Rusanov and his uncle, Ivan. Still asleep is his cousin, Katarina. They're from Siberia, the Ural Mountains, to be exact."

"Siberia!" exclaimed Challenger.

"Yes. Alyosha and his family were miners at the time of the revolution. But then he lost his parents and sister to starvation. He joined Ivan, who was a farmer, and Katarina, his orphaned cousin, and they were able to escape the country after many months of trying. The three worked their way through the States to South America. Apparently, Ivan traveled there as a young man and knew of some land they could possibly buy. When they arrived, they arranged an expedition. But somehow they became lost and arrived here through a series of tunnels near the inland sea."

"Then they know a way off?" Roxton asked hopefully.

Marguerite shook her head. "No. The tunnels collapsed just after they got topside. All their bearers were killed. They were lost, without food or supplies. They've been wandering for weeks. They were almost out of ammunition when we found them."

"That's odd," Roxton murmured.

"What is it?" Malone asked.

"How many times have we met someone who has claimed to come up through tunnels or caves that mysteriously disappear or collapse?"

"Do you doubt their story?" Marguerite asked. "Because the conditions they described in Russia sounded more than true to me."

"It's probably nothing," Roxton conceded.

Veronica shut the lid on her mother's trunk and carried the blue calico dress to Marguerite's room as if it were the crown jewels. On her way, she picked up a mug of hot broth. She found Katarina sitting at Marguerite's dressing table, staring at her reflection in a hand mirror. Two fat tears rolled down her cheeks.

Impulsively, Veronica set down the dress and mug and hugged the girl who was probably close to her own age. "I know you don't know me, but you'll be OK. I've brought you this dress to wear. It was my mom's. It may be a little big for you, but it's light and sturdy."

Katarina looked intently at Veronica. She fingered the fabric and smiled. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," Veronica replied. "Hey! You speak English?"

"Some," Katarina said modestly.

"I'm Veronica, and this is my home. You're welcome to stay here as long as you need to. Here, come have some of this broth."

"Alyosha?" the girl anxiously asked as she began to drink. "Is he in health?"

"He's feeling much better. He and your uncle have already showered, eaten, and are down below getting the grand tour."

"Are we really in a tree?" she looked skyward in amazement. Veronica sat down on the bed.

"Yes. My parents built this tree house to keep us safe from the dinosaurs."

Katarina shuddered at the memory. "I hate those creatures!"

"I live here now with my friends—do you remember them from yesterday?"

"I believe so."

"Can I join in?" asked Marguerite in Russian at the doorway. "Katarina, I know someone who will be thrilled to see you up and about!"

"It's OK, Marguerite, she speaks English," Veronica informed her.

Katarina again gazed in the mirror. "My face," she moaned. Dark purple shadows ringed her eyes and her features were pinched and hard.

"I bet once you bathe and put on this dress, you'll feel brand new!" Veronica said kindly. After finishing her broth, Katarina followed her hostess to the shower area and reveled in the hot water and homemade soap. Afterwards, she tried on the dress, and it fit like Veronica had predicted.

"Marguerite, get one of your necklaces," the young blonde requested.

"One of my necklaces?" Marguerite asked crossly. "Oh, alright."

She searched her jewelry box and took out a string of pearls. In the meantime, Veronica pulled Katarina's damp hair into a loose chignon held by tortoiseshell combs. Marguerite slipped the necklace on her and held up the mirror.

"See? You look wonderful," Veronica said.

 Katarina looked at her reflection, a small smile playing at the corners of her mouth.

"I'm very hungry," she stated.

"Then let's go!" Veronica laughed.

The three women walked into the living area just as the elevator reached the top. Out stepped Roxton, Alyosha, Ivan, and Challenger. Their eyes immediately fell on Katarina.

"Well, here is a sight for sore eyes!" Challenger exclaimed. "It's good to see you up, young lady!"

Alyosha hung back but didn't look away from Katarina's face. Roxton elbowed his new friend, a gesture that didn't need translating. Alyosha blushed and walked up to her.

"I'm glad to see you well, Katarina Ustinovna," he said.

She bowed her head slightly. "You, too, Alyosha Nikolayevich."

Malone and Summerlee joined the group. "How was the tour?" Malone asked.

"Very good!" Challenger exclaimed, hanging up his rifle. "We may not speak the same language, but they seemed to catch on about the electric fence and where the watering hole is."

"George gave an animated performance of various dinosaurs. It was quite amusing," Roxton said and reached for Marguerite's hand.

"I'm sorry I missed it!" she laughed and kissed him. Alyosha and Katarina watched them, and both turned away in embarrassment.

"Come, let's eat!" Summerlee declared. The explorers and their new guests squeezed in around the table and happily shared a meal.

It was later that evening, after the guests had gone to bed, that the explorers gathered in Challenger's lab.

"They seem honest enough. And they do need our help," ventured Ned.

"And they aren't fit to be in the jungle alone," Veronica said.

"Life around here is going to change," Marguerite predicted.

It was even later that night when Ivan, Katarina, and Alyosha met on the balcony.

"What do you think, Ivan Ivanovich?" Alyosha whispered.

Ivan stroked his beard thoughtfully. "They are good people."

"Then do we…?" Katarina's question went unasked.

"It isn't wise to share a burden with someone who hasn't asked to share it," Ivan said.

"So, we just learn to live here?" Alyosha asked, casting a worried glance into the jungle below.

"Yes," the older man sighed heavily. "In spite of the dangers we've seen, I believe we're safe."

And so a new picture of daily life developed as the explorers adjusted to their three houseguests. Veronica and Katarina shared a room; Roxton and Alyosha bunked together. They worked to make the smaller storeroom into a bedroom for Ivan. Over the ensuing weeks, the two younger ones gradually returned to health. Alyosha tanned easily and put on pounds quickly. Katarina regained her hourglass figure and her face was becomingly fuller. Only Ivan remained under the weather. He gained some weight but never lost his hacking cough.

Everyone's daily pattern changed. Veronica was surprised one afternoon to have Alyosha join her in the garden. He had an unexpected knack for tending vegetables and grains. She enjoyed the company and having someone new to show the wonders of the plateau to. Alyosha was curious, asking questions as best he could with hand motions and a few English words he had acquired. He was especially interested in dinosaurs, whose distant roars still terrified Katarina.

"Is it common to marry one's cousin in Russia?" Veronica asked Summerlee one day.

"Why do you ask?"

"It's obvious Alyosha loves Katya."

"I would say it's becoming less commonplace in this century," he replied.

"The genetic implications of sharing the same gene pool are quite alarming," Challenger piped up and offered his two-cents' worth.

Alyosha also spent time with Roxton, who took him on scouting trips and hunts. The language barrier didn't stop the older man from showing his new friend how to properly care for a rifle or how to identify different jungle sounds. Roxton noticed how Alyosha constantly seemed to be on the look out for something, but he didn't press the issue.

Marguerite observed in warm amusement as the man she loved displayed a more paternal side. However, she wasn't going to let Alyosha's mining skills go to waste. She took him to several caves and streambeds in the area, and they talked at great length about how various gems might be excavated. Marguerite also conducted English lessons for all three guests in the evenings and longed for the day they could easily converse and she wouldn't have to be translator.

Ned didn't understand his new friends, but that didn't stop him from drawing inspiration from them. His pen practically flew over the pages of his journal.

"I think he's begun the next War and Peace," Summerlee laughed quietly with Challenger.

Challenger found the three Russians extremely interesting, though their knowledge of current world events was sketchy. Concerned with Ivan's persistent illness, he threw himself into creating a cure for it.

Ivan mostly spent his time on the balcony with a small leather-bound book. Summerlee often joined him, and the two older gentlemen read in a companionable silence. One morning Summerlee peered over at Ivan's book and noticed a small gold cross emblazoned on it. Summerlee held up his Bible, also with a cross on the front, and they enjoyed a good laugh. They had been reading the same book all along.

Katarina, however, had a harder time finding her niche. She showed no skill at cooking, as was evidenced by a very well-done dinner one night, and when presented with a broom by Veronica, looked perplexed. She didn't like going down to the jungle floor and showed no inclination to explore the area. She had a teachable spirit, however, and carefully watched Marguerite as she had to let out recently altered Alyosha's shirt in the arms and chest. In fact, the girl insisted on finishing and presenting it to him. But for what she lacked in domestic skills she made up for in more cultured ones. She didn't know how to rip out a seam, but when given some thread, she began embroidering a beautiful floral scene. Veronica gave her some paints, and Katarina created a simple but exquisite painting. But above all else, she loved to sing. She sang not only Russian songs a cappella but also arias from famous operas. And it was the only time she really smiled. The explorers spent many evenings listening to her perform.

It was on one such night that Roxton and Challenger stepped out on the balcony to get some fresh air while Katarina trilled up and down the scales.

"Quite a song bird, isn't she?"

"Hmmm. A wonderful voice," Challenger replied thoughtfully.

"You're in a brown study, George. Thinking through a new theory?"

"What? Oh, no. Just a mystery."

"A mystery about what?" Roxton took a sip of his scotch.

"Our guests," Challenger answered, sitting down. "Katarina speaks English."

"Yes?"

"Only the upper class had its children, particularly its girls, taught English."

"What else?"

"She's educated and musically trained. She knows nothing about housekeeping and is about as useful in the kitchen as Marguerite."

"Now that's saying something," Roxton chuckled with a twinkle in his eye.

"I'd stake my reputation on the fact that girl has never worked a day in her life."

"Maybe her parents were well-to-do," Roxton speculated.

"Take Ivan. He spends his time reading the Bible or praying. He is purportedly a farmer, but has never once asked to see our garden," Challenger said, his excitement growing.

"The Bible may be a comfort to him after all he's been through. And he still isn't well."

"That may be true, but the only person I believe is exactly who he claims to be is Alyosha."

Roxton leaned forward and whispered, "Why would they lie?"

Challenger shook his head. "I don't sense any malice on their part, but I do think they're hiding something. And there's something about that girl…"

Katarina finished her song, prompting wild applause from her listeners. Alyosha stood and pulled a chair out for her. Roxton watched them and considered Challenger's words.

More time passed, and soon it became like the Russians had always been part of their family. On a fair evening when the sun still held court in the sky, they decided to go on a picnic at a spot Marguerite recommended. They were all feeling festive and relaxed; even Challenger agreed to stop working on the cough syrup to join them. They stopped at a grassy knoll resting at the base of a dark hill Marguerite often excavated.

"Do you have the bread?" Roxton asked.

"Yes. Do you have the round disc?" Veronica asked.

"Do you mean this?" he replied and tossed the circular object at her. Laughing, she leaped in midair and caught it.

"What is that?" Katarina asked.

"We don't know its proper name, but some unusual visitors left it here. It's fun to toss back and forth," Malone said as she and Marguerite set out the food. He motioned for the young couple to join in the fun. Alyosha was on his feet in a second, laughing and running with the others. Katarina held back.

"Go on, Katya. I'll help Marguerite," Summerlee offered. The girl smiled broadly and joined the game.

Afterwards, the out-of-breath participants staggered back to the blanket, eager for a good meal. Challenger, who finished quickly, wandered over to an interesting rock formation. Marguerite lay her head on Roxton's lap and closed her eyes. Ned and Veronica went for a walk, while Ivan and Summerlee dosed.

"Look at that," Roxton whispered. Marguerite sat up to see Katarina slowly walking up behind Alyosha, who sat on a large rock. She seemed to have something in her cupped hands. All of a sudden, she dropped their contents down the back of Alyosha's shirt, sending him wriggling and scampering while she giggled. Whatever slid down his back, he finally got out and took off in hot pursuit of Katarina as she ran toward a grove of trees. Roxton and Marguerite laughed at the sight.

"It's good to see her smile," he commented.

"It's good just to see you," she said with an edge.

"What do you mean?" he raised his eyebrows at her.

She lay back down on his lap. "It's just that you spend so much time with Alyosha now, and I have to spend so much time being an English teacher. We hardly get to be alone anymore."

"You're doing a good job," he commented, brushing the hair off her forehead.

"I know. I miss you, that's all."

"Well, if we were married, we'd see each other every night," he started. Marguerite jerked upright.

"I'd settle for just a few hours of his lordship's time," she smiled.

"Don't think I've forgotten about our marriage discussion," he warned her, but she silenced him with a kiss.

A restless energy filled the house the next morning. Roxton, Malone, and Alyosha were leaving on an overnight scouting trip to the plain beyond the inland sea.

"Beware of any dinosaur graveyards," Marguerite teased. Roxton kissed her affectionately.

"And you try to stay out of trouble here," he said. "Malone! Let's get going!"

Ned came into the room, closing his knapsack. "I'm ready. Do you have the extra ammo?"

Roxton patted his pocket. "Always do. Alyosha!"

The young man jumped to attention at the elevator where he'd been waiting unnoticed for 10 minutes.

"Oh," said Roxton. "I didn't see you there. Well, I suppose we're off then!"

"Be careful!" Katarina called nervously. Alyosha smiled at her in excitement.

"Goodbye, Katarina Ustinovna! Goodbye, Ivan Ivanovich!" he called.

After they were gone, Veronica leaned over the table to Marguerite, "I think he was as excited as a child on Christmas morning!"

Marguerite nodded in agreement. "And Roxton is just as bad. It'll be a boys' night out!"

"What…is a boys' night out?" Katarina hesitantly asked.

"It's a time when men go off by themselves and generally have a good time being silly," Marguerite explained. Veronica laughed and began clearing the dishes.

"Oh," said the girl, not quite understanding. "Marguerite, you and Lord Roxton are to be married?"

"Yes," she answered.

"When will the wedding be?"

Marguerite finished her coffee. "When we return to London."

Katarina furrowed her brow. "But Lord Roxton told me it would be soon."

Annoyed, Marguerite stood and pressed down the wrinkles in her skirt. "Yes, well, sometimes it's good to wait."

"I'm sorry," the girl said, sensing she had touched a nerve.

"No, no, it's fine." Marguerite stared into the girl's guileless blue eyes and confided, "The fact of the matter is there are things in my past I need to resolve that I can only do in England."

"I understand," Katarina said, and Marguerite believed she really did.

"So, what's on our agenda for the day?" Veronica asked from the kitchen.

"Why should the boys have all the fun?" declared Marguerite. "It feels like it will be quite hot this afternoon. Why don't we go for a swim?"

"That's a great idea!" Veronica concurred.

"You swim? Out there, where the dinosaurs are?" Katarina asked in horror.

"Oh, we'll drag Challenger along to stand guard. And don't worry—he won't peek," Marguerite laughed.

"Peek?" she asked.

"We don't swim in bathing costumes," the older woman informed her. The look of shock on Katarina's face was priceless.

"Come with us, Katya. I promise it'll be fun. Besides, you need to get out of the house a little more," chided Veronica.

Katarina looked worried but soon nodded her head.

Challenger grumbled at the thought of losing an hour of study, but the pressure the three women put on him to be their lookout was too much. He reluctantly took his post near the watering hole, his back towards them. Marguerite and Veronica quickly undressed and dove into the refreshingly cool pond. Katarina, however, hesitated.

"Come on, you silly goose!" Marguerite called.

"If you're shy, we'll both turn around," Veronica assured her.

Katarina nodded, and the two women obediently faced the other direction. A few minutes later there was a loud splash. They turned to see Katarina in the deep end, the water level with her chin.

Marguerite said, "Although I adore our shower, there is something so relaxing about taking a swim."

Veronica arose after dipping her head back in the water. "It's also great fun!"

With that, she swung her arm, sending a wave at Katarina. The girl squealed and dove beneath the surface. She emerged again with a look of surprise and delight and began to splash the other two.

Challenger rolled his eyes at their high-pitched shrieks. He was guarding schoolgirls.

The water fight continued until Marguerite let out an audible gasp.

"Katarina!" she exclaimed. The girl now stood in the shallow end, the water lapping at her rib cage. Covering her chest, arms, and back was countless scars, some red and angry, others deep and white. Seeing what drew their attention, Katarina leapt from the water into the bushes where she quickly dried off and dressed.

Marguerite and Veronica looked at each other in dismay. "Katarina, I didn't mean to upset you!" Marguerite called.

Katarina stepped out of the bushes. It was evident she was crying. "Please, I beg you. Don't ever speak of this again!"

She ran to Challenger who quickly escorted her back to the tree house.

Veronica followed them with her eyes. "Did you see that?"

"It was horrible. What—or who—could have done that to her?" Marguerite wondered.

The night was pale and cold on the eastern plain where the men made camp. The chilly breeze fingered at their collars and cuffs, anywhere there might be exposed skin. They had seen several dinosaurs on their trek, and Alyosha had successfully shot two raptors. He lay on his bedroll, basking in the glow of his victory. Roxton tossed more wood on the crackling fire.

"I'd say this was an all-around good day," he declared.

Malone, finishing the last piece of cooked raptor meat, nodded. "There's something about sleeping under the stars, even on the plateau."

Not understanding a word, Alyosha was content to gaze at the fire. It felt good to again be in the company of men close to his age. The breeze picked up, sending gray clouds skirting across the sky low and fast. Something cold and fearful tugged at his heart and he sat up quickly.

"Do you hear something?" Roxton asked warily.

Alyosha stood and stared into the distant jungle. The silver moonlight silhouetted each tree and branch. His eyes strained to identify every object. Something seemed to momentarily blur the light between two trees. He grasped his gun. Roxton and Malone jumped to their feet, following his gaze.

"What is it?" Malone asked quietly.

"Darkness," Alyosha managed to say in English. "Darkness."

"Yes, there are shadows out there. But did you see someone? An animal perhaps?" Roxton put his hand on the boy's shoulder and turned him around. It was back—the look of abject fear he wore that first day. "Alyosha, can't you tell us?"

Alyosha quickly sat back down. Either he didn't know the English words or he refused to say more, but he sat up the rest of the night, keeping a watchful eye on the horizon.

Katarina brushed her hair with smooth, even strokes, just like her mother had taught her. She could see so much of her mother in her face, but hints of her father lived in her eyes. She dressed slowly, turning over many ideas in her head. Her parents hadn't raised her to be fearful, but life had taught her many lessons on the subject. Still, if she was to make her home here, she had to get used to the surroundings.

Summerlee was just finishing his breakfast when she entered the room.

"Good morning, Katarina. Would you care for some coffee?"

"No, thank you. I…I was wondering if you would accompany me on a stroll this morning," she requested. "I need to learn more about this place and have been told many times not to wander off by myself."

"So true. I would be more than happy to," he said pleasantly and set his napkin on the table.

They walked around the trunk of the tree first, then Summerlee led her out through the gated electric fence.

"I've heard many stories of your adventures here," she said. "Would you mind showing me where some of the events happened?"

Summerlee puffed on his pipe and smiled. "Certainly! Now up this way is where I was attacked by the most dreadful bumblebee…."

The men awoke at first light to find Alyosha packed and ready to go. He set off on such a fast clip that at times he almost broke out in a run. Memories of other times, other places came unbidden to his mind.

"Alyosha! Slow down!" Malone complained. "What on earth has gotten into him?"

"I don't know," Roxton puffed. "But whatever it is, he is bound and determined to get to the tree house in record time!"

They reached the electric fence, and Alyosha could barely contain his impatience as Roxton opened the gate.

"Why are you back so soon?" Veronica asked in surprise as the three men burst from the elevator.

"Katarina Ustinovna!" Alyosha yelled. "Katya!"

"She went for a walk with Summerlee, I believe," Marguerite told him.

His eyes widened in fright and he dashed back into the elevator.

"Alyosha, wait!" Roxton joined him and they descended.

"What was that all about?" Marguerite asked, perturbed.

"I don't know, but I think we should go with them," Veronica said.

Marguerite, Malone, and Veronica caught up with the two men at the ridge above the tree house. Alyosha frantically looked all around.

"What's wrong?" Marguerite demanded in Russian.

"I cannot tell you! But they might be in danger," he panted.

"They look fine to me," she said, folding her arms over her chest. Emerging from a tree grove arm-in-arm were Katarina and Summerlee on the other side of the field.

Alyosha sighed heavily and looked at them in relief.

"Now, what was this all about?" Roxton demanded.

Suddenly a loud gunshot rang out. The explorers whirled around to see Alyosha charging to where Summerlee and Katarina had been. With guns and knives raised, they followed on his heels.

"Help!" Katarina cried. She knelt in knee-high grass next to Summerlee, who was unconscious.

"Arthur!" Veronica cried, examining the swash of blood that covered his forehead.

Roxton, Malone, and Alyosha ran into the woods but saw no one. They returned quickly.

"Is he hurt badly?" Katerina asked.

"I'm not hurt at all, my dear," Summerlee moaned. "I seemed to have bumped my head."

They helped him to his unsteady feet.

"It looks like a bullet grazed you," Marguerite reported.

"Who could have done this?" Malone asked.

"Can we please have this discussion at home?" Marguerite exclaimed anxiously. "There's some maniac out there!"

Veronica paced back and forth through the living area; the others sat in silence. At long last, Challenger came out of Summerlee's room.

"How is he?" Roxton asked.

"Stubborn old coot. He's fine, just a slight concussion. He's resting now. But what I want to know is who shot at him?"

A collective sigh of relief filled the room. Roxton hugged Marguerite, then turned his attention to Alyosha, who stood behind a seated forlorn Katarina.

"Alyosha saw something in the jungle last night that set him in a tailspin. He had to get back here to make sure Katya was OK," he informed them.

"Alyosha, you told me they might be in danger. How did you know that?" Marguerite asked.

"I sensed it" was his tightlipped response.

"We're not angry," began Malone.

"Speak for yourself!" Veronica declared and resumed pacing. "Someone took a shot at Summerlee!"

"Katarina, what do you know?" Marguerite asked, but the girl wouldn't meet her eyes.

"Ivan, please tell us!" Challenger pleaded in the cursory Russian he had learned. The older gentleman stared at the ground.

Veronica threw her hands up in frustration and angrily sat down. Roxton rubbed the tense muscles in Marguerite's neck and thought of what he could say next.

Then Challenger cleared his throat. "Did I ever tell you I met Czar Nicholas II? It was years ago in Paris. I was at the Sorbonne, and the royal family was also in town. The czar asked me to come speak to him about some of my theories. He was an exceptionally intelligent, thoughtful man.

"I arrived at his home a little earlier than planned and interrupted him disciplining his youngest daughter. She was a rascal, that one. Apparently she had done something very naughty, because she left his study in tears. I remember her sweet, sad face." Challenger sat down next to Katarina. "His Majesty loved her very, very much."

Katarina covered her face with her hands and began to cry.

"It's good to see you again, Your Majesty," he said softly.

"Majesty?" asked a shocked Roxton.

Katarina wiped her eyes and held her head high. "It's true. I am the Grand Duchess Anastasia Nicholevna."

The name was barely out of her mouth when Alyosha and Ivan quickly protested in Russian. She held up her hands for them to stop.

"No, it's time to tell everything," she said to them. Turning to Challenger, she asked, "How long have you known?"

"Not long," he assured her. "What happened?"

Taking a deep breath, she addressed the explorers. "As you no doubt know, my family and I were held in the city of Yekaterinburg. The guards constantly harassed us. They painted the windows of the house white so we couldn't see out. Then they built a fence around the house, and then a second, higher fence. Still, we held out hope. Until one night," her voice shook but she recovered.

"We were gathered in the cellar in our nicest clothes. We even brought our dogs with us. We were lined up for a portrait, but then the guards came in. I don't remember much else," she whispered. Alyosha put his hands on her shoulders and continued the narrative in Russian, which an aghast Marguerite translated:

"I was a miner near Yekaterinburg. I went to town that night for a drink, and when I left, I saw guards and wagons around the house. We knew the royal family was held there. I stayed back a ways and watched. The men carried bundle after bundle out and tossed them on the wagons. Then the wagons left.

"It was a cold, icy night. I remember my breath looked like clouds. For some reason, I felt compelled to follow them. I don't know how I did so without being seen, but I think the guards wanted the whole thing to be done with quickly.

"They went deep in the woods. I couldn't see what they did, but I did see them leave. I waited a bit, then followed the wagon tracks to an isolated spot. What I saw there I will never tell a living soul," he shivered. "Then I heard a moan, and I found Anastasia, barely alive. Of course, I didn't know who she was then. She was drenched in blood. I gathered her up and took her home.

"She had been shot and stabbed. I was sure she would die that night. But my mother and sister nursed her and she lived. It wasn't until later that week we heard a rumor the royals had all been murdered. I realized she might be one of the princesses.

"My mother discovered the bodice and hem of her dress was lined with precious jewels—a common practice I've since learned. My father speculated the bullets bounced off the jewels, and that's why the guards then used sabers."

Marguerite paused to take a drink of water. The others sat in horrified attention. Katarina had listened to this recounting as if she were hearing a school report. She lifted her head and continued in English:

"I was ill for months. It was almost that long before I could tell them who I was. Luckily, they were sympathetic to my father. I lived with Alyosha and his family for more than a year, and it took me all that time to recover. But then things began to happen. His sister noticed a strange man lurking near the fence. Neighbors began to gossip that an unfamiliar girl was living with them, even though I never went outdoors. Alyosha's parents arranged for us to take their only horse and wagon and travel by night to Ivan Ivanovich's."

"Ivan isn't a farmer, is he?" Challenger asked.

She shook her head. "He was a monk, Alyosha's uncle. It was also decided that my new name would be Katarina Ustinovna. And so, I became a new person at the monastery. I was aware of the danger these two men put themselves in for me, but they wouldn't discuss it. They became my knights in shining armor." She wiped a tear from her eye. "I had to accept the fact my entire family was gone. I was lost, scared beyond reason, and still very ill. They were hard days for us all."

She stood and walked to the kitchen fire to warm herself.

"We got word that my parents and sister had been arrested. We decided," Alyosha continued through Marguerite, "that we had to leave Russia. There were threatening signs and a constant feeling of danger. I was able to sell some of the gems to support us, bribe officials, pay for fake papers, and more. We would leave by ship. I never saw my family again."

With tears brimming over in his poetic eyes, Alyosha began to pace.

"On the dock the day we were boarding, I was overwhelmed with a feeling of doom, just like I had today. And I was right: A man grabbed for Katarina and I fought him off. It was then that we knew we had been followed."

"How? By whom?" Malone asked, not remembering the Russian men couldn't understand him.

Ivan then spoke in a senatorial tone that had everyone on the edge of his or her chair. Katarina translated. "We assumed someone had seen Alyosha Nikolayevich that night. We left by ship and through many travels and voyages, arrived in America."

"Why didn't you just go to the press when you reached the States?" Malone asked. "Don't you have family still in Europe, Katya…um Anastasia?"

"Please, call me Katarina. That's who I am now," she smiled. "Yes, I have family in Europe, but with this danger on my heels, I couldn't risk it. And," she added shamefaced, "I wanted to disappear. My family had been butchered. I know it was shirking my responsibilities, but I didn't want to be Anastasia Nicholevna anymore. So, we lived in San Francisco. Alyosha and Ivan found work, plus we still had my jewels to live off of. Then, one night, a man stealthier than a shadow broke into our home. I was asleep; Alyosha was at work. Ivan fought the man valiantly and won, but never got a good look at this face. Unfortunately, it broke his health.

"From that point on, we called this villain the Dark One," Katarina whispered. "He has haunted my dreams, my every move."

"That is what you meant last night when you said, 'darkness,'" Roxton exclaimed.

"Last night…dark one…yes," Alyosha stammered in English.

"How did you get on the plateau?" Summerlee asked.

"We fled the assassin further and further south. We met a man who told of a rare and beautiful land far away by a river. He turned out to be a flimflam artist," Katarina said. "He arranged an expedition into some tunnels and then abandoned us there. We were lost, and it was so dark. We nearly died. Then, we found our way out and into this new world."

"So, the tunnels do exist?" Marguerite asked.

Katarina shook her head. "No, they really did collapse. Unfortunately, the Dark One must have made it out before they did."

"I wonder why this man has been so secretive. The Bolsheviks aren't known for their subtlety in dealing with their opponents," Challenger said.

"Whoever he is, he's here now," Roxton said, standing. "We will protect you, Your Highness."

"Please, Lord Roxton: I insist you continue to call me Katarina," the girl said. She then told her companions what the hunter had said. Alyosha looked at his friend in admiration—and relief.

"Let's figure out a plan to turn the light on this Dark One," Veronica said.

"I don't like this idea!" Alyosha exclaimed for the fifth time. He angrily stared at Ivan and at Roxton. "It's too dangerous!"

Marguerite translated for the fifth time, though Roxton was beginning to recognize some of the words.

"Tell him it's the only way to lure out the Dark One," the hunter asked her. With a heavy sigh, she obliged.

"Alyosha Nikolayevich, I agree with Lord Roxton," Ivan said. "If Katarina is willing…"

"And she is," the princess said from the other side of the room.

"Then we need to go along with it," the older man concluded.

"We'll make sure it's safe," Malone said to Katya. "We'll be all around you."

The girl nodded. "If it can put an end to this nightmare once and for all, I will do it."

"Then it's settled," Roxton said. "Tomorrow you and Alyosha will stroll down to the watering hole. We'll already be in position. Then we'll catch this scoundrel!"

"It's too dangerous!" Alyosha shouted and left the room. Marguerite began to translate, but Roxton held up his hand. He knew what Alyosha had said.

The explorers left the tree house under the cover of darkness and went to their assigned positions around the watering hole. From his vantagepoint, Roxton could see Marguerite behind some rocks and Malone crouched by a tree. Veronica was somewhere near him. Summerlee, Ivan, and Challenger were on the other side. As dawn broke, his hunter instincts kicked in. He heard every sound, every leaf moving in the light wind. Then, right on time, Alyosha and Katarina walked down the path by him. Alyosha's face was tense, his eyes darting from side to side. Katarina, head held high, stepped lightly and smiled.

The couple walked to the pond and sat in a hollowed-out bank. The killer could not shoot at them unless he was standing directly across from them, and that area they had well-covered. Katarina got a book out of her bag and began to read.

"Do you see anything?" Katarina murmured as she read the same line of text over and over again.

"No" was the anxious reply.

"Why don't you get up and walk away from me? That might draw him out."

"Not a chance."

"Alyosha."

"No."

"Please."

"No."

"You're so stubborn!"

"Shhh!" Alyosha strained to listen. "I hear something."

Roxton heard it, too—a rustling in the bushes across from the couple. The sound was too light to be a dinosaur. He shifted to his left. There, behind a bush, a shadow fell. He leaned forward and saw the silhouette of a man.

"Now!" he shouted.

Alyosha threw himself on top of Katarina, knocking her to the ground. Malone, who was closest to the bush, ran after the fleeing figure at top speed. The man dove toward the jungle underbrush, only to be tackled by Veronica. They struggled on the ground, and the man threw her to the side. He reached for his gun but was silenced forever by Challenger's rifle.

"Do we have him?" Summerlee called.

"He's dead!" Malone replied. The others hurried over. Cautiously, Katarina looked at the dead man. He was in his 40s with a dark complexion. Alyosha knelt by him.

"This doesn't look right," he said.

"What do you mean? He obviously was going to shoot at you. Who else could he be?" Marguerite asked.

Alyosha stood and shook his head. "I have always felt it when the Dark One was near. I don't feel this is him."

Marguerite shared the young man's concerns with the group. Roxton put his hand on Alyosha's shoulder.

"You've been running from this man for years. It's normal to think the chase couldn't be over yet. But look around. There are no other tracks here. This man was alone."

Alyosha considered the words Katarina translated. He hesitantly nodded his head in agreement and joined the others as they headed home. But something still bothered him.

Katarina sat on the balcony, hardly knowing what to think or feel. She, Alyosha, and Ivan had been on the run so long, she couldn't imagine the terror finally being over.

Observing the girl, Roxton gestured to Alyosha, who still looked nervous. "You and Katarina should go for a walk. A picnic perhaps? Have some fun."

Alyosha stared at him, then remembered what the word picnic meant. "Picnic!" he exclaimed, imitating the movements he made when throwing the plastic disc.

"Yes, picnic! Alyosha and Katarina!" Roxton said.

"I'd be happy to put some food together," Veronica volunteered.

"But look at the fog rolling in so early," Malone said. The white billows ducked in and out of the trees.

"Well, it's not cold out. If they go to where we went the other evening, they should be well above it," Roxton said.

"Picnic," Alyosha said. He looked over at Katarina. Perhaps Roxton was right about the Dark One after all.

Katarina and Alyosha hiked above the swirling mists to the green knoll. Each grabbed an end of the plaid blanket and floated it down on the soft grass. White-barked trees with shimmering leaves stood guard on either side. Tiny yellow and white flowers delicately waved to the couple.

"It's like a fairyland!" Katarina laughed. She spun around, landing on the blanket. It was as if they were on the top of the world, far above the clouds. Time and unhappiness had no meaning—they were isolated from every living thing below. Like a sunflower, Katarina turned her face toward the warm rays and sighed happily. It was finally over. All the running and hiding was behind them.

"Now that this danger has passed, we must think about the future," Alyosha was saying. "Roxton and Challenger say they won't stop looking for a way home, but we don't know when we might ever return to Russia. So, we must think about our lives here."

"Yes. But let's not think about it today. It's too beautiful," she smiled and closed her eyes.

Alyosha didn't argue. She looked so peaceful with her reddish-brown hair surrounding her face like a halo. He felt a strange surge of emotions. When he first saved her, Katarina was a young girl near death. Then, she was an invalid, frail and hurt. After he knew who she really was, it was his duty to protect her. But over the months, his feelings had grown. But what could he do? As much as he pretended she was Katya, she was still Anastasia.

Katarina peeked out from under half-closed lids to see Alyosha staring at her. The unguarded look in his soulful blue eyes made butterflies take flight in her stomach. She thought back to the first day she could remember in the Rusanov household. Alyosha was a constant, comforting presence. As she began the long road to recovery, he became as vital to her survival as the air she breathed. Alyosha was so much more to her than her rescuer and friend. Why was that? She couldn't put her finger on it.

He stretched. "Do you plan to nap or eat or…?"

Whatever words he was forming died on his lips as the high-pitched whine of a gunshot ricocheted off the nearby rocks.

"Move!" Alyosha helped Katarina up and physically pushed her behind a large tree. He turned to where his rifle lay by the basket when another shot echoed. This one found its mark. Alyosha cried out and grasped his left thigh.

"Alyosha!" Katarina crawled to wear he lay writhing in agony. She grabbed a cloth napkin and tied it tightly above the wound, then pressed another against the flow of warm blood.

"Who can it be?" she cried.

"It's the Dark One. You have to listen to me!" Alyosha gasped, beads of perspiration forming on his forehead. "Up above is a cave Marguerite showed me. A large berry bush hides its entrance. Go in it. The way will grow steep and narrow but at the end is an opening to the other side of the hill. Run south. It will lead you to the watering hole and the others."

"I won't leave you!" she declared. Alyosha grimaced in pain.

"Hand me my rifle," he commanded. Katarina stretched her fingertips forward and grasped the cold steely barrel as another shot rang out. Alyosha took the gun from her and painfully rolled over. "Run up the hill. I'll cover you."

"I'm not leaving you!" she said again forcefully.

"I'm not arguing with you, Anastasia Nicholevna!" he ordered. "Go!"

Katarina stared at him. He never called her by her given name. Her resolve hardened; she had to help him. She inched backwards and began to run.

Gunfire erupted below, but she didn't look back. At last she came to a large berry bush and there paused. From that height she could see their picnic site and, a few yards below it, the boiling fog. Wherever the assassin was, he was well hidden. She saw Alyosha trying to drag himself behind the trees.

A lone gunshot rang out.

Alyosha froze as a red blossom grew across his chest. He sank to his knees, then collapsed on the ground, not moving. No! Katarina screamed behind the gag of her own hand. Blindly, she ran into the gaping hole behind her.

Where she was headed she didn't know. The pitch black swallowed everything. Only her ragged sobs could be heard, weirdly echoing back at her. On and on she ran in the darkness. She crashed into rocks and overhangs as if she were in a nightmare, but her feet kept flying. She had to get Roxton and the others to help Alyosha.

Up ahead a pinprick of light glowed as the path grew steeper. Falling, she crawled on her hands and knees, ripping her dress and scraping her arms. The light became an opening big enough to squeeze through. She fell headlong out the small hole and ran as fast as she could down the hill. South, south, he said south! She charged into the fog.

The cloudlike vapor dissipated as she crashed into it. The black-and-green jungle never felt more menacing. She tripped over a large exposed root and sat, dazed, long enough to listen. Were those footsteps pounding behind her? She was up and running again. Where was the pond? How far was it? Panic began to set in. Somewhere in her brain she knew she couldn't outrun the killer pursuing her. She stopped and looked around. To her left were large rock pinnacles jutting above the cloud line. She launched herself at the nearest one, clawing and grasping at handholds to pull herself higher. With strength she didn't know she had, Katarina reached a narrow ledge that led back to where the rock tower met another. She stepped into the shadowy corner and looked down. Somehow she had scrambled up 25 feet. 

Katarina closed her eyes, her heart about to thump out of her chest. And then she saw him. He was dressed in dark brown pants and a light shirt, a black vest and a dark hat. He burst through the fog below the rocks and disappeared again. She held her breath. No one else was with him. However, a few minutes later, he walked back into view. He stared up at the rocks; his ice-blue eyes seemed to see right through her.

"I'm a patient man, Anastasia. I'll wait," he said in Russian, his large rifle shining evilly. Then he was swallowed back into the fog.

Time had no meaning in the surreal world of cloud and stone she found herself. There wasn't enough room on the ledge to sit, so Katarina wedged herself as far back into the corner as she could go. Alyosha! she cried silently. He had sacrificed himself for her. And he was dying alone because of her. The bitterness of that realization was almost enough to make her ill. She brought her hands to her face and realized she still clutched the napkin she had pressed against his wound. It was sticky with blood.

Blood calls to blood, she thought as hysterical laughter threatened to burst from her throat. She looked skyward and saw a few scraggily weeds swaying slightly in a southern breeze. Katarina raised the napkin high above her head so the wind could carry its scent to the far corners of the jungle.

The Dark One stepped back into view. "Come now, Your Highness. I'll make it quick. No more of your friends have to die because of you."

He sat down on a fallen log a few feet from the base of her hiding place. "I have to admit, I never thought it would take as long as it has to catch you. I came close when you boarded that ship. And again in San Francisco. But there is nowhere else to run. No one to protect you. The old man is feeble. The boy is dead. And your new friends don't know where you are. So, spare yourself a more painful death, and come here."

Katarina tossed her head back, hot tears coursing down her dusty cheeks. She wouldn't give in to fear; she owed that to the Romanov name and to Alyosha. If somehow she could escape, she might still save him. A noise in the distance interrupted her thoughts and she peered down at the path.

Either he didn't recognize the click-click-click of their tongues or he didn't hear them at all, but for whatever reason, the man didn't see the three raptors until they were upon him. Their snarls intermingled with his cries of terror as they tore him to pieces.

And then Katarina screamed.

She screamed until she had no voice left. And then she screamed more. The raptors, still feeding below, went on uninterrupted. Then voices could be heard.

"Alyosha!" Roxton yelled.

"Roxton, look!" Challenger shouted.

Shots rang out and the raptors fled. Five figures emerged from the fog below her.

"What is that?" Malone asked, peering at the remains on the path.

"Katarina!" Veronica yelled.

"Here! I'm up here!" Katarina stepped into view. "Roxton, Alyosha's been shot! He's where we were picnicking!"

"I know a shortcut!" shouted Marguerite, and she, Roxton, and Challenger ran off.

"How on earth did you get up there?" Malone asked from so far below.

"I honestly don't know," she sheepishly admitted.

"I'll get a rope," Veronica offered and ran off.

"Is the Dark One dead?" Katarina called down.

"Most assuredly," Malone replied. "The man we killed must have been an accomplice. Can you climb down?

"I don't think so."

"I'll be up to get you in just a minute."

Veronica returned with a coil of rope and Ivan. After a few false starts, Malone made it up to the ledge. Once he had securely tied the rope around her waist, Katarina tried to climb, but she was too exhausted. Malone carefully lowered her to the bottom where Ivan enveloped her in his arms.

"You defeated that devil! He, who killed your parents, sisters, and brother. You defeated him. And the Lord hid you in the cleft of the rock," the old man said with tears in his eyes.

"Alyosha is dead," she sobbed against his chest.

"We don't know that," he whispered and patted her head.

A somber Marguerite met them as they exited the elevator. Her tan pants and lavender blouse sported the unmistakable brown stains of blood.

"Summerlee and Challenger are working on him now," she said, swallowing hard. "He's alive, barely. He's lost a lot of blood."

"May I see him?" Katarina asked.

"Not yet," she replied.

"Let's get your arms and hands cleaned up," Veronica led the dazed girl away.

Marguerite walked numbly to the balcony where Roxton sat resting his elbows on his knees. She sat down next to him and began rubbing his back. He turned and put his head against her breast.

"He's like a brother to me," he hoarsely whispered.

"I know."

"I should have listened to him when he said that first man wasn't the killer. He knew, but oh no! The great Lord Roxton knew more!" he railed against himself.

"You had no way of knowing there was another one."

"I should never have encouraged him to take her on that picnic alone."

Marguerite knew there would be no consoling him tonight and stroked his dark head.

Veronica applied a cloth soaked with disinfectant to Katarina's deepest cut, but the girl didn't even wince.

"Veronica?"

"Yes?"

"Have you ever been truly terrified?"

"Many times," she replied. "But I'm sure they were nothing compared to what you have faced."

"But that's the odd part. As I stood on that ledge, I didn't fear losing my life. All I could think of was Alyosha." She paused as tears filled her eyes. "No, that isn't true. I also thought of what my life would be like without him. And that's what terrified me."

Veronica hugged her friend, near tears herself. "He is alive—don't forget that. Let's let him know you're OK."

Katarina clutched Veronica's arm as the two women walked into Challenger's room. The room reeked with disinfectant and herbs. Alyosha lay unconscious on his back with blankets covering him. His ribs were bound with bandages.

"The bullet in his leg appears to have gone clean through. The one that entered his chest, however, was lodged between two ribs. I had to operate," a visibly shaken Challenger reported. "I'm not a doctor. Summerlee helped, of course, but it was rough going."

"Will he recover?" Katarina asked.

"We don't know yet, child," Summerlee said, holding a small bowl. "This is a special medicinal paste Sinnia gave us. It's said to clot the blood and ward off infection. I'm going to change his dressing and apply it."

Katarina disengaged herself from Veronica and knelt by Alyosha's bedside. His wavy hair was in a tumble, his full lips cracked, and his skin the color of dull porcelain.

"Alyosha? I'm here. Your Katya is here. All is well. I'm safe now. I'm safe because of you. Do you hear me, Alyosha? This time I won't leave you," she finished firmly. She stared up at the others with the same look in her eyes Veronica had noticed when they met.

"Let me help," Katarina said.

"The wound isn't an easy sight to see," Challenger cautioned.

"Let me help, please," she said adamantly.

"Alright, my dear," Summerlee said. "Watch me carefully."

The night was old as Malone and Veronica sat with Roxton and Marguerite at the dining table. No one had bothered cooking because no one felt like eating.

"Should I offer to trade places with her?" Roxton asked.

Veronica shook her head. "I already tried. She refused."

"What does Challenger say?" Malone asked.

"His last report is that it's still touch and go," Veronica said.

Marguerite reached for Roxton's hand under the table. He gripped hers with a fierce strength. She looked at his ashen face and squeezed back.

Summerlee sat with Ivan in his room. Both men read aloud from the Bible in their respective languages. Both men prayed and wept.

In the quivering candlelight, Katarina kept vigil at Alyosha's side. Occasionally, she bathed his brow and hands. Sometimes she sat in silence; other times she talked in low, hushed tones. Whatever she said or promised or declared no one else heard.

Roxton awoke with a start. He had fallen asleep on a chair in the living area. The first golden rays of dawn were parting the dark jungle. Roxton stretched and rubbed his eyes.

What an awful nightmare! he thought. Alyosha was lost in a deep valley and calling to him. He had tried to run but everything was in slow motion. Roxton shook his head and remembered the real nightmare of the day before.

"That's it!" cried a woman's voice from Challenger's lab.

He stiffly walked down the stairs to see a wild-eyed Katarina, still wearing her torn dress, grasping a handful of brown weeds. Challenger stood nearby holding one of Tom Layton's journals.

"My parents sought many cures to stop my little brother's bleeds and strengthen his blood. I remember a doctor from South America recommending this very herb as a blood rejuvenator!" she exclaimed.

"Are you sure it was this plant?" Challenger asked dubiously.

"I recognize the name. Please, Challenger! Use it to help Alyosha!" she desperately pleaded.

Challenger took the plant from her hands. "I cannot be certain…but at this point, we have no choice."

The scientist turned to the tools of his trade—beakers, solutions, measuring utensils—and began to work. Roxton took Katarina by the hand and led her upstairs.

"Let me make you some tea," he offered. He started a fire and put the kettle on. Katarina fell into a chair.

"I need to get back to him," she whispered, her momentary burst of energy now gone.

"Who is in there now?" he asked.

"Ivan. He wanted to pray over Alyosha."

"How…how did things go last night?" Roxton hesitantly asked.

Katarina stared at him blankly. "He didn't wake up. He didn't even stir. Summerlee says he's lost too much blood. Then Challenger asked me to help him with some herbs (I think he just wanted to get me out of the room). I was half-asleep as he listed them, but I recognized the name of one—the one you heard me talking about. Maybe it will help. It has to help…"

The kettle whistle blasted the silence with a scream the two of them felt in their hearts.

Veronica assisted Challenger in the lab as he added the last herb to some water.

"I don't know even if Katarina's assumptions about this plant are correct," he said, resting his hands on the countertop.

Veronica looked through her father's journal. "My dad wrote this particular root has medicinal value concerning the blood. Maybe Katya is right."

"But Veronica, I don't even know what the dosage is!" he exclaimed in frustration.

Veronica leaned over the mixture and began to stir it. "What chance does Alyosha have without it?"

"Baring a miracle, he will die. That's a physical certainty," the professor replied sadly.

"We don't seem to have any other options," she said, gently placing one of her slim, tan hands on his.

"Challenger! Please come!"

The professor tore upstairs, the beaker of medicine in hand. Veronica quickly followed. The others had also responded to Katarina's cry and stood in the doorway.

"Let me through!" Challenger demanded.

Alyosha's breathing was labored; he was deathly pale. Katarina leaned against the wall, mouthing a silent prayer. Challenger forced the liquid down his patient's throat. After a minute, the sharp intake of air decreased into a normal rhythm.

"Did it work, George?" Roxton asked.

"It's too soon to tell," the professor replied.

An endless afternoon turned into another endless night. And Alyosha clung to life. Twice Challenger sent Malone and Veronica to find more the medicinal herbs, and twice more he made Alyosha drink the mixture.

Katarina sat gazing at Alyosha's face, as if she wanted to burn the image into her brain. Her mind drifted back to the first minutes of their picnic that now seemed so long ago. She remembered the look in his eyes as he watched her. Her mother had told her that eyes were the windows to the heart. What was in Alyosha's heart?

She gasped. He loved her. He loved her? Yes, it was so. She sat back, astonished. He wasn't just a knight in shining armor protecting a princess. He loved her, from the beginning.

"You look like you've seen a ghost," Roxton said upon entering the room, and immediately regretted his choice of words. However, Katarina didn't seem to notice.

"He loves me," she stated simply.

Roxton couldn't help it—he grinned broadly. "Of course he does. The boy loves you heart and soul."

Katarina stared at him in amazement. "Did he tell you that?"

"No. It's evident, though."

"When…? How did you…?"

"The first day, when we rescued you from the T-Rex." He quietly dragged a chair next to hers. "And what about you?"

"I love him, too," she admitted. "But everyone I have ever loved has died."

"Did I ever tell you about my older brother, William? I thought he hung the stars and the moon. There wasn't anything Wills couldn't explain or do. I doted on him. Then, we went on safari in Africa. Wills was attacked—I fired my gun—and I killed him. My father died soon afterwards. I was convinced I was a curse to my family."

"Oh no!" an empathetic Katarina cried.

"I spent years running away from that tragedy, vowing never to let someone that close to my heart again."

"And then you met Marguerite?" she offered.

"Yes. I met Marguerite," he smiled affectionately. "I didn't want to, but I fell in love, a deep, abiding love. She taught me I was worth loving. I'm sure Alyosha can teach you the same lesson, if you let him."

A low moan from the bed brought them to Alyosha's side. He was still asleep, but his lips trembled and his dark eyelashes fluttered. Katarina put her face next to his. His skin now held a little warmth.

"Call Challenger! I think he's better!"

"What are you two looking at?" Veronica asked as she joined the heiress and the princess on the balcony. "Oh, I see."

Below Malone and Roxton chopped wood. The noontime sun made the jungle floor sweltering, and both men had removed their shirts. Nearby Alyosha sat on a chair, watching. Not to be outdone by his older friends, he, too, had removed his shirt.

It had been a full month since Alyosha had been shot, a month full of setbacks and recovery. Katarina finally had the opportunity to repay him for the nursing he had given her. Now, in the bright sun of the jungle, it all seemed like a distant bad dream.

Veronica noticed a sheen of perspiration covering Malone's tanned torso and felt a shiver of excitement. "This is a very good view," she commented.

Katarina turned her head, embarrassed. Veronica laughed and walked back into the living area. Marguerite, on the other hand, continued to stare at her fiancé's rippling muscles and firm legs.

"It's so good to see Alyosha up and about," she said at long last.

"He can't be out of bed too long. Just enough to get some fresh air," Katarina said.

"Has he asked you to marry him?" Marguerite smiled at the young woman whom she now considered a sister.

Katarina looked pained. "No. And I hope he doesn't."

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"Someday we'll leave this place. Someday I'll return to Russia as the Grand Duchess Anastasia," the girl stated.

Marguerite shrugged her shoulders. "What does that…? Oh, I see." She took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. "How can the Grand Duchess be married to a peasant? Is that what you're thinking?"

Katarina sat down. "If things had remained the same, I would certainly have been betrothed by now to a prince."

"But things did change. And we are here. And, as you've said many times, you're Katarina now," the older woman declared.

"I know," Katarina raised her chin. "As a child, I was Anastasia. As a woman, I am Katarina. But someday, I will be czarina."

"I hate to be blunt, but you don't know that. The revolution may grow roots and…and you may never be queen. And Alyosha is anything but a peasant," she said heatedly.

Katarina looked down at the ground. "What you're saying is true. But how can I dishonor my family by ignoring who I really am? When the Dark One died, I realized I couldn't run from who I am. I am Anastasia."

"But don't you see?" Marguerite took the girl's hands in her own. "You're throwing away happiness with both hands! I'm not saying you should give up being a princess—I certainly wouldn't! But won't you be able to face your past and your future better and stronger with the man who loves you at your side? Didn't Alyosha's nearly dying teach you anything?"

Katarina stood and stared at the men. Roxton was helping Alyosha on with his shirt. The jagged scar across her love's chest was visible under the gauze bandage. Absently, she rubbed her hand across her own chest.

"Thank you, Marguerite," she whispered. "No matter who I am, I love him. I always will."

Marguerite smiled. "Thank goodness you see that!"

"But can I offer you some advice now?"

"I suppose," Marguerite said cautiously.

"Physician, heal thyself."

"What is that supposed to mean?" she stammered.

"Couldn't you face your past and your future better with Lord Roxton as your husband?"

Crimson stained Marguerite's cheeks. "The two situations are totally different!"

"How? Roxton loves you, and you love him. I love Alyosha, and he loves me. You won't marry Roxton because you fear your past. I didn't want to marry Alyosha because I feared the future."

"You don't know what you're talking about!" Marguerite angrily turned to leave.

"Marguerite, didn't you learn anything from the time Roxton nearly died in Shadow River?" Katarina asked.

With a sharp response on her tongue, she whirled around but the tirade didn't come. She looked into Katarina's clear eyes and didn't see a trace of sarcasm or pity. Only concern.

"What are you two lovely ladies doing?" Roxton approached the balcony.

"We were just talking about the future," Katarina said and brushed by Marguerite.

Roxton, now wearing his favorite blue shirt, kissed Marguerite on the cheek. "The future is it? Well, what plans were you laying out?"

Marguerite looked up at him and carefully weighed her options.

Katarina stood at the doorway of Alyosha's room, silently watching as he slowly lowered himself onto the bed.

"Let me help you!" she exclaimed as he started to lean forward to take off his boots. Carefully, she removed each one and eased him into bed.

"Did you over do it?" she asked.

He shook his head. "I just watched. It felt good to be outdoors again."

"Take things slowly. Or, at least that's what someone wise told me when I was recovering from an illness," she smiled.

Alyosha offered her a lopsided grin. "Wise, am I? I'll remember you said that the next time you argue with me."

Katarina tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear and adjusted his covers. "You are wise. And good and brave and true of heart. I owe you my life many times over."

Surprised by her words, Alyosha blushed. "You don't owe me anything."

"Why did you do it?" she asked with feeling. "Why did you leave your family and home?"

"You are my princess," he answered, not meeting her eyes.

"Is…is that all I am to you?" she spoke almost inaudibly.

Alyosha looked startled. "No," he admitted. "But you are Anastasia."

"I'm Katarina," she whispered. "And if I ever return to Russia, I will want you with me. Forever."

Hope and unbounded joy filled his eyes. "Whatever may come in the future, Katya, we will always have each other, I promise. I love you."

He ran his fingers through her luxuriant brown tresses and gently pulled her to him.

"And I love you," she said. They stared at one another for a long minute and then lost themselves in their first kiss.

The tree house had never looked lovelier. Veronica had decorated it with nosegays of vibrant purple, pink, and lavender blossoms placed in every imaginable container—including Challenger's prized beakers. White orchids interwoven in green ivy made a heavenly garland that was draped above every doorway.

Ivan stood at the front of the room, beaming. Challenger's cough medicine had worked, and the older man looked healthier than ever.

"How will we understand him?" Veronica asked.

"We'll have to take it on faith he's saying the right words," Summerlee joked.

"You look beautiful," Ned said as he joined them. His eyes ran up and down the royal-blue satin dress that fit Veronica like a glove. Her blonde locks were pulled into a soft bun at the nape of her neck. Her only jewelry was a single orchid tucked behind her ear.

"It's not like we have a wedding here everyday," she said self-consciously under Ned's admiring stare.

"How is the bride?" he asked.

"Nervous as a cat!"

"Here come Sinnia, Assia, and Jarl!" Challenger called from the balcony.

In the bride's room, Marguerite finished French-braiding Katarina's hair.

"Do you want the pearl or gold earrings?" Marguerite asked.

"The pearls, please. Thank you for doing this," Katarina smiled. She smiled all the time now.

"I'm glad to." Marguerite critically surveyed her young friend. "You're stunning."

Katarina wore a simple white frock that had belonged to Veronica's mother. Marguerite had taken lace from one of her slips and added it to the sleeves, and then wove a pink ribbon through it. She still had enough lace left for a veil.

Katarina smiled. "Now let me help you."

She fastened the last two tiny buttons of Marguerite's pale-blue silk dress. The heiress' hair was pulled back with combs; two long tendrils framed her face.

"I never thought I'd ever wear this dress here, especially on this occasion!" Marguerite exclaimed.

"I have something for you." Katarina reached for a small brown pouch and pulled out the most exquisite sapphire necklace Marguerite had ever seen. The stone, at least four karats in weight, was smooth, oval, and set on a glittering chain.

"This was the last jewel I had sewn into my dress," Katarina said. "Alyosha and I wouldn't be together today if it hadn't been for you."

"I don't know what to say!" Marguerite gasped as Katarina slipped the necklace on her.

"Say nothing," the girl said as they embraced.

Veronica poked her head in the door and sighed. "You are the most lovely bride! Now it's time to start!" She looked back into the living area. "Your groom is at the altar."

On Veronica's signal, Malone started a sweet Mozart minuet on the gramophone. The guests formed a simple aisle by standing on two sides of the small room. Veronica led the procession carrying a bouquet of pink flowers, like the other two did. She walked up to Ivan, then stood next to Ned, who held her hand tightly. Alyosha was on the other side next to Roxton, who looked very smart in a crisp white shirt. As Marguerite took her turn walking up, Roxton had a lump in his throat.

Malone turned the music off once the women stopped. Ivan began the wedding ceremony in a low, melodic voice.

"What part do you think he's at?" Malone whispered after a while.

"I think he just quoted II Corinthians," Summerlee replied.

The Zangas watched the proceedings with interest.

"Why are they exchanging rings?" Jarl asked.

"It's a symbol of marriage, of unending love," Challenger explained.

"Where did they get those unusual rings?" Sinnia asked.

"That's a story in itself," Summerlee chuckled.

Ivan closed his Bible. A few moments of silence passed before Malone called out, "You can kiss the bride now!"

Smiling, the groom carefully lifted the delicate lace veil. He stared into his new wife's tear-filled gray eyes.

"I do love you," Marguerite whispered before Roxton passionately kissed her.

Everyone cheered and milled around the couple. Veronica hurried to the kitchen and brought out a platter of fruit and sweetened bread.

"It's not much of a wedding cake," she said ruefully but Marguerite shook her head.

"It's perfect," she assured her and they hugged.

"This was a beautiful wedding!" Katarina embraced Roxton.

"You two could've had one just like this if you'd been a little more patient," he scolded her playfully. "But you had to have Ivan marry you right then, no waiting."

Alyosha walked up and put his arm around his wife. "No wait," he said in English and everyone laughed.

"Any words of wisdom for the groom?" Marguerite teased. Katarina whispered a translation.

Alyosha thought for a second, then smiled. "Marriage is good."

Roxton turned Marguerite to face him. "I have no doubts at all that it will be."

Historical Note: In 1918, the Grand Duchess Anastasia Nicholevna, her parents, her sisters, her brother (a hemophiliac), three family servants, her two dogs, and the family doctor were assassinated in the basement of a house in Yekaterinburg, Siberia. Some believe she survived.