The Fire Katherine Neville The only goal in chess is to prove your ...
The Fire Katherine Neville The only goal in chess is to prove your ...
The Fire Katherine Neville The only goal in chess is to prove your ...
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Orthodox fashion, as if seized by a mass religious frenzy, as they gazed up at the portrait of Our Savior high on<br />
the outer church wall.<br />
<strong>The</strong>se women, as they moaned and prayed <strong>in</strong> the whirl<strong>in</strong>g snow, formed a barrier nearly as<br />
impenetrable as the armed guards posted high on the parapets. And <strong>in</strong> the old Soviet tradition, they refused <strong>to</strong><br />
budge or part ranks <strong>to</strong> let anyone pass through their queue. Solar<strong>in</strong> could scarcely wait <strong>to</strong> get past them.<br />
As he picked up h<strong>is</strong> pace <strong>to</strong> skirt the long queue, over the women’s heads Solar<strong>in</strong> glimpsed the facade<br />
of the Art Museum, and just beyond, the Vestry and treasury, where they were headed for the game.<br />
<strong>The</strong> museum’s facade had been fes<strong>to</strong>oned with a large, colorful banner d<strong>is</strong>play<strong>in</strong>g a pa<strong>in</strong>t<strong>in</strong>g and handpr<strong>in</strong>ted<br />
words that announced, <strong>in</strong> Cyrillic and Engl<strong>is</strong>h: SEVENTY- FIVE YEARS OF SOVIET PALEKH ART.<br />
Palekh art were those lacquered pa<strong>in</strong>t<strong>in</strong>gs that often depicted scenes from fairy tales and other<br />
peasant themes. <strong>The</strong>y’d long been the <strong>only</strong> primitive or “superstitious” art acceptable <strong>to</strong> the Commun<strong>is</strong>t<br />
regime and they adorned everyth<strong>in</strong>g <strong>in</strong> Russia, from m<strong>in</strong>iature papier-mâché boxes <strong>to</strong> the walls of the Pioneers’<br />
Palace itself, where Solar<strong>in</strong>—with fifty other boys—had practiced h<strong>is</strong> defenses and counterattacks for more<br />
than twelve years. As he had had no access all that time <strong>to</strong> s<strong>to</strong>rybooks, car<strong>to</strong>ons, or films, the Palekh<br />
illustrations of these ancient tales had been young Aleksandr’s <strong>only</strong> access <strong>to</strong> the realm of fantasy.<br />
<strong>The</strong> pa<strong>in</strong>t<strong>in</strong>g on th<strong>is</strong> banner was one with which he was well acqua<strong>in</strong>ted, a famous one. It seemed <strong>to</strong><br />
rem<strong>in</strong>d him of someth<strong>in</strong>g important. He studied it carefully as he and Xie picked their way around the long l<strong>in</strong>e<br />
of zealously pray<strong>in</strong>g women.<br />
It was a render<strong>in</strong>g of the most famous Russian fairy tale, the s<strong>to</strong>ry of the <strong>Fire</strong>bird. <strong>The</strong>re were many<br />
versions that had <strong>in</strong>spired great art, literature, and music, from Pushk<strong>in</strong> <strong>to</strong> Strav<strong>in</strong>sky. Th<strong>is</strong> picture on the<br />
banner was the scene where Pr<strong>in</strong>ce Ivan, hid<strong>in</strong>g <strong>in</strong> h<strong>is</strong> father the tsar’s gardens all night, f<strong>in</strong>ally sights the<br />
lum<strong>in</strong>ous bird that had been eat<strong>in</strong>g h<strong>is</strong> father’s golden apples, and he tries <strong>to</strong> capture her. <strong>The</strong> <strong>Fire</strong>bird escapes,<br />
leav<strong>in</strong>g just one of her fabulous magical feathers <strong>in</strong> Ivan’s grasp.<br />
Th<strong>is</strong> was the well- known work of Alexander Kotukh<strong>in</strong> that hung <strong>in</strong> the Pioneers’ Palace. He was one of<br />
the first generation of Palekh art<strong>is</strong>ts from the 1930s, who was said <strong>to</strong> have hidden secret messages with<strong>in</strong> the<br />
symbols he used <strong>in</strong> h<strong>is</strong> pa<strong>in</strong>t<strong>in</strong>gs that the State censors couldn’t always easily <strong>in</strong>terpret—though the illiterate<br />
peasantry could. Solar<strong>in</strong> wondered what th<strong>is</strong> decades- old message had meant, and <strong>to</strong> whom.<br />
At last they reached the end of the long l<strong>in</strong>e of wait<strong>in</strong>g women. As Solar<strong>in</strong> and Xie curved back <strong>to</strong> head<br />
<strong>to</strong>ward the Vestry, a s<strong>to</strong>oped old woman <strong>in</strong> a babushka and threadbare sweater and carry<strong>in</strong>g a t<strong>in</strong> pail left her<br />
place <strong>in</strong> the queue and brushed past them—still cross<strong>in</strong>g herself fervently. She bumped <strong>in</strong><strong>to</strong> Xie, bowed an<br />
apology, and cont<strong>in</strong>ued across the yard.<br />
When she’d passed, Solar<strong>in</strong> felt Xie tugg<strong>in</strong>g h<strong>is</strong> hand. He glanced down <strong>to</strong> see h<strong>is</strong> daughter extract<strong>in</strong>g a<br />
small embossed cardboard placard from her pocket—a ticket or pass <strong>to</strong> the Palekh exhibit, for it bore the same<br />
picture as the banner.<br />
“Where did th<strong>is</strong> come from?” he asked, although he was afraid he knew. He glanced after the woman,<br />
but she’d van<strong>is</strong>hed across the park.<br />
“That lady put it <strong>in</strong><strong>to</strong> my pocket,” Xie was say<strong>in</strong>g.<br />
When he looked down aga<strong>in</strong>, h<strong>is</strong> daughter had flipped over the card, and Solar<strong>in</strong> snatched it away. On<br />
the back was pasted a small illustration of a fly<strong>in</strong>g bird set <strong>in</strong>side an Islamic eight- po<strong>in</strong>ted star, and three words<br />
were pr<strong>in</strong>ted <strong>in</strong> Russian:<br />
oпa´снo бepe´чьcя пoжa´p<br />
Read<strong>in</strong>g these words, Solar<strong>in</strong> felt the blood puls<strong>in</strong>g <strong>in</strong> h<strong>is</strong> temples. He glanced quickly <strong>in</strong> the direction the old<br />
woman had gone, but she seemed <strong>to</strong> have van<strong>is</strong>hed. <strong>The</strong>n he saw someth<strong>in</strong>g flicker at the far periphery of the<br />
walled fortress; emerg<strong>in</strong>g from the copse of trees, she was van<strong>is</strong>h<strong>in</strong>g aga<strong>in</strong> around the far corner of the Tsar’s<br />
Chambers—a d<strong>is</strong>tance of more than one hundred paces.<br />
Just before she d<strong>is</strong>appeared, she turned <strong>to</strong> glance over her shoulder directly at Solar<strong>in</strong>, and he—who<br />
had been about <strong>to</strong> follow her—halted <strong>in</strong> shock. Even at th<strong>is</strong> d<strong>is</strong>tance, he could make out those pale blue eyes,<br />
the w<strong>is</strong>p of silvery-blond hair escap<strong>in</strong>g from her scarf. Th<strong>is</strong> was no old crone, but a woman of great beauty and<br />
<strong>in</strong>f<strong>in</strong>ite mystery.