by Lucas Thorn
“I thought we were going to Munich.”
Vasilja grin was sly. “I meant Munich, of course.”
“You’re hiding something from me,” Senka said. Planted her feet and glared. “What are you hiding? I want to know.”
“I’m not hiding anything at all. You can ask Hailwic if you like. She’ll tell you where we’re going. She knows everything.”
Pause. “Which means you’re hiding it from Hailwic, too.”
“Honestly, Senka. You’ve got quite an imagination sometimes.”
“I’ll tell.” Firm. “I’ll tell Hailwic you’re hiding something from her. She’ll punish you, Vasilja. You know she will.”
Vasilja sighed. Placed her hand across her belly and leaned closer.
Lowered voice to a low whisper.
“Can you keep this secret, though? I mean, really secret? You can’t tell Hailwic. If you tell her, she’ll go straight to Paris without stopping. This trip will be over before we had a chance to have any fun. You know what she’s like. She’s got no sense of adventure, Senka. I want to go to Vienna. Don’t you? And maybe Prague. If we can, I want to bite a Sardinian. You’d like Sardinians, Senka. They taste delightful. Much smoother than the rough blood we get here. Although, I think Hailwic will tell you they’re called Italians. It doesn’t matter. I’m sure they taste the same as they used to.”
“I want to see Munich, too,” Senka said. Suddenly excited. Eyes wide. Whispering loudly. “I want to bite people from all over Europe.”
“Then you can’t tell Hailwic.”
“I won’t.”
“You promise?”
“I swear.” Eyes so serious Vasilja couldn’t stop the smile which sprang to her face.
“Good. Then, I read Mister Harker’s diary. Two nights ago, I slipped into his room and I read it. It was very silly, mostly. But people like him usually are. He came here to meet Dracula, but didn’t expect to find us here. He was trying to think of a way to have you all to himself. When he discovered what you were, he wanted to lock you in your coffin and take you back home with him.”
“What for?”
“Oh, it’s nothing you want to know about. Most of it was rather revolting. But he’d have stopped you from biting. Maybe fed you rats. In his diary, he wondered if he could.”
Horror made Senka almost cry out. “Rats? Why would I bite rats?”
“You might if you were desperate.”
“Never! Not rats.”
“He thought you might, and that’s all that matters. He talked a lot about his home. He had a fiancée there.”
“Who would want to marry him? He sounds like an awful man.”
“Oh, I think he is.” Vasilja cocked her head. Listening. Trying to feel if Hailwic was close. Seemed satisfied the other vampire hadn’t yet returned. Still kept voice a whisper. “He talked about his friends. About his mentor. A man named Van Helsing.”
“Is that German?”
“His name is, but they live in London. Mister Harker and Van Helsing. Oh, and Mister Harker’s fiancée.” Vasilja’s smile turned ferocious. “He kept a photograph of her. She’s very beautiful. Dracula would like her a lot. Which is why he’s gone to London. I’m sure of it.”
“What?” Outrage lifted Senka from the ground. “How dare he? We should be enough for him!”
“That’s what I said before he brought you back to the castle.”
“Oh.” Senka dropped to the ground. Looked sheepish. “I’m sorry, Vasilja.”
“You don’t have to be sorry. You just have to be quiet. You can’t tell Hailwic. She’d only rush us to London before we had a chance to have an adventure. And he’s out having an adventure, so we should, too, I think. Don’t you?”
“Shouldn’t we stop him, though?”
“What on earth for?”
“But if he brings home another…”
Shrug. “Then there’d be four of us. It might be nice to have someone from England around. I’ve heard wonderful things about their trains.”
“Trains?”
“Yes, you’ll see. We’ll have to travel on trains to get to Paris. Hailwic will be sick of wagons by the time we get to Munich. You’ll see. You’ll like trains, Senka. I saw one, once. From the mountains. I’m sure I did. It had smoke coming from its chimney. So much smoke. And it roared so loud. It must be thrilling to stand inside one. And what would it be like to bite someone inside a train? We should find out.”
Senka still struggled. “But what if we don’t like her? What if she won’t share her brush?”
“Then we bite her. Or lock her in the church. There are plenty of options. I still have a whole book of them from when he brought you home and I made a list.”
“Really?”
“Of course. I wanted to feed you to the wolves, but Hailwic said I had to wait until he got bored of you. That’s when I started being creative and had to write it all down to remember what to do.”
Senka stood rigid.
Looked down at her mace.
“I didn’t know that, Vasilja. I thought you liked me. You were nice to me when I arrived. I always remember how nice you were. I was scared when he said I had to meet you. I thought you’d hate me. Then, when I saw you in the courtyard, I wanted to cry. But you gave me your ribbon, and it meant a lot to me. I still wear it, you see? And I always clean the blood off, too. I don’t care about my other clothes, but I care about this. Because I want to keep it forever.”
“Oh, you shouldn’t worry, Senka. I didn’t mean I don’t like you. It’s just when you first came here, we didn’t know quite what to expect. We thought you’d be like the girls in the village or something. And you know what they’re like.” She put her hand on the other vampire’s shoulder. “Honestly, Senka. You shouldn’t think about it. You’re my sister now. I just wanted you to know that how you feel, if he brings home a new Bride for us, is normal. We’ve all felt jealous before. And angry. I think it’s the little piece of us which was human. Sometimes it tries to make us feel human again. It tries to tell us that we’re different now. And that it’s wrong to be different.”
“I won’t let it.” Showed her teeth. Snarled; “I won’t feel jealous. I won’t feel angry.”
“You see? It’s easier if we just remember what we really are. Vampires.”
“Which is why if I don’t like her, I’ll just bite her.”
“We all will.” Patted Senka’s cheek. “Now. Let’s finish packing before Hailwic gets back. She shan’t be long.”
“Can I take my brush?”
“You should. Your hair is very pretty when you brush it. It gets messy when you don’t.”
“It tangles. I hate it.” She looked down at the boxes she’d been trying to arrange. “Are you sure I shouldn’t take everything?”
“Do you remember your journey here?”
“It took months.”
“And what did he let you bring with you?”
“Nothing. He said I had to start a new life.”
“Oh, he says that all the time. Because he knows it’s too hard to carry things with you. And he’s terrible at explaining why.” Vasilja absently reached for a book on the shelf and tucked it under her arm. “But, if you can, remember what it was like travelling all that distance. Now imagine trying to do it with your big boxes there. Imagine that, Senka.”
“We had to run in the rain, once. Some men were chasing us.”
“And would you be able to run from them again with all this?”
“No.” Regretful. “I suppose I wouldn’t. I’d have to leave them behind.”
“And would you want them to have your dresses? They’d give them to some peasant or something.”
“How awful!”
“Exactly.”
“But I want to wear nice clothes. And not the same ones every day.”
“Paris, Senka. Munich. London. You’ll be bringing more home with you than you think.” Vasilja giggled. “Last time he took us to Rome, and I came home with three wagons
full of silk. I think I even got that ribbon in Rome.”
“Really? So, it’s Roman?”
“Italian. Hailwic says they’re Italian now.”
“Italian?”
“Yes. Apparently, that’s a thing. I expect a lot has changed since I last left these mountains. Which is another reason we simply must keep our secret from Hailwic. Do you understand? If we want to learn anything at all about how things have changed, we need to keep it secret.”
“Yes, Vasilja.”
“Good. Now, Hurry. I want to get another book from the library.”
“Won’t they be heavy?”
“I’m only bringing two.”
“Maybe I should take one?”
“But you don’t read, Senka.”
“It’s not that I can’t read. It’s that they’re mostly boring. But I imagine I’ll spend a lot more time in my coffin, so I could try!”
“Well, I suppose that would be amusing.” She held out her arm for Senka to take. “Come along, then. Let’s find you something to read. It’ll have to be something simple, of course. If it’s too hard, you won’t want to finish it, and it’s just not right to leave a story unfinished.”
As they glided down the hall, Senka frowned suddenly. “Do you think Hailwic will let us go into the town before we leave?”
“Not tonight, I should think.”
“Why not?” Almost a whine. “I really was looking forward to biting Jonathan. With him gone, I have no one.”
“Oh, Senka. You are silly sometimes. You’ll love travelling. I can tell.” A wicked edge cut through Vasilja’s tone. “There’s so much to bite. So much more than the bare pickings up here in the mountains.”
“You promise? You’re not just making it up to make me keep secrets from Hailwic?”
“I promise. You’ll see. And, by the time we get to Vienna, you’ll be glad you listened to me. You’ll thank me. By Munich, you’ll be begging forgiveness for ever doubting me.”
“I’ll kiss you if it’s true. But bite you if you’re lying.”
“And I’d do the same if I were you.”
The whispered through the air until they paused in front of the library. Vasilja placed her hand on the enchantment which opened the door.
Room still cluttered with debris.
“Vasilja?” Senka rested her fang on the corner of her lip. “You do like me now, don’t you? You’re not still thinking of feeding me to the wolves?”
“Of course not! Why would I do that?” She smiled wide, eyes sparkling bright. “I gave you my ribbon, didn’t I?”
CHAPTER FOUR
They were three miles from a town with no name.
A town whose only road was mud.
The oxen had come to a halt and one of the wagons had a wheel half-submerged. Two men pushed on the wheel while a third tried to lever it free.
Rain poured torrential. Drumming into sodden ground with ceaseless noise.
Grey clouds overhead swirled and clashed with thunder. Sheets of lightning ripped the early evening sky apart.
Oxen, resigned to the weather, stood motionless.
Water dripping from their bodies.
Heads low.
The men shouted at each other. Had to shout to be heard. One waved to a fourth at the rear, who came running. His hat kept the rain from his eyes but not the rage.
“What the fuck are you lot playing at? Get this piece of shit out of the mud before we sink too fucking deep and get stuck until stinking Summer!” He slapped his hip with a hard-calloused hand. “We should’ve been in town fucking hours ago.”
“We can’t shift it! Weight is gonna break the axle if we push any harder. We’re gonna have to unload.”
“Bollocks to that. Just-”
“John!” An older man leaned against the wagon. Looking exhausted. Clothes drenched, stuck to his skin. Long grey hair in ribbons down his face. Moustache plucking at his upper lip. Closed eyes. Not looked up as he shouted as hard as his hoarse voice could manage. “Listen to the boy, John! We’re not telling you we want to unload for the fucking fun of it. It’s a cunt of a job to pull it all off and then put it back. We’re telling you because it’s the only fucking way we’re getting this goddamn wheel out of the fucking mud!”
John tightened his jaw.
Looked from man to man, then nodded.
“Alright,” he said. “I’m sorry, lads. The storm. It’s just… The storm.”
“We know, mate.”
“Right, then. Let’s do it.” Clapped wet hands together. “George, I want you to go on up ahead and see if you can’t find somewhere we can get the wagons off the road while we let the rain let up. Somewhere firm, mind. We don’t need to get bogged in again. And don’t go too far. We ain’t far from town, so if need be we can try and convince the locals to put up with us.”
George tipped his hat. “I’ll be quick. Be back to give you a hand.”
“Aye,” the old one growled. “You’d better.”
“We’ll take it in turns,” John said. “I’ve been back there, so I’ll take first shift. You both look done in, but Dimiti is eldest. So, Peter, it looks like you’re with me. Dimiti, get up up into your cot and get yourself a bit dry. Have a smoke if you like.”
“Aye.” Tension eased from the old man’s shoulders. “Appreciate that, John.”
“It’s nothing.” Looked up at the stuck wagon and climbed awkwardly into the back. Trying not to slip. Patted the coffin and shook his head. “All this fucking grief over a goddamn dead body. What’s the point, eh? Carting them all the way across the world? Bury them where the poor sods fell, I say. If I die out here, Peter, you can bury me under a tree. I wouldn’t haunt you for it.”
Peter crossed himself and scowled. “Shouldn’t talk like that, John.”
“Right you are, Peter. And I’m sorry. Here, take a couple of these crates.”
“What’s in them?”
“Dirt, if you’d believe it.”
“Dirt?”
“Deceased’s last wishes and all that. Wanted to be buried in Transylvanian soil, but in Munich.”
“That’s a bit odd, ain’t it?”
Shrug. “I only care about the money, Peter. As should you. With the blasted trains starting to take all our business, I’ll cart fucking corpses any day if it’ll pay half as well as this job has. Park it all over by that tree there.”
“Will do.”
The two men worked without talking after that. Grunts of exertion lost to the loud rain and rolling thunder.
John moved the crates and handed them down.
Peter stacked them carefully against the tree. Rubbed at his shoulders every time he moved back toward the wagon for more. But never complained.
Jobs like this paid well for the time away from home. And the chance to see the world when it wasn’t pissing down was enough to keep him happy.
Still, he couldn’t stop thinking about a campfire.
Drying his boots out.
And a hot meal.
Steaming hot meal.
Meat.
Slabs of it.
Heaped with gravy.
Thick and delici-
“Peter! Wake up, lad.”
John was holding a small crate out to him. He hadn’t even noticed. He blinked and nodded. “Sorry. Was lost in a dream.”
John watched the younger man turn away.
He was pushing them hard. He knew it. But the woman had promised an extra five hundred francs if he could get the coffins to Vienna before month’s end. It was a hard trek, and one he never should have agreed to. He’d needed an extra team of oxen to even think about it.
But she’d paid.
And paid a fair sum in advance.
So, he pushed. Pushed them hard. And they knew why. Knew there was a hefty bonus at hand, so they didn’t complain. The journey back would be easier with some weight in their belts. It wasn’t the first time they’d had to push into the face of Winter.
The last of the crates wa
s stacked and John dropped down to stand next to Peter. The younger man was blowing hard. Had tucked his thumbs into his belt and was almost doubled over. Almost as much sweat as rain on his face.
“You think we can do this without taking the coffin off, Peter?”
“I wish we could, John. I ain’t wanting to move it. Reckon that was the heaviest of the three, too.”
“You mightn’t have to. Here’s George. Hoy! George! What’s up ahead?”
“Mud. Mud. And more fucking mud.” Spat in disgust. “It’s even worse just round the hill there. Goes right up to my knee, almost, in some places.”
“Shit.”
Dimiti jumped from the other wagon, rubbing hands together. Aimed a sour look to the mountains in the distance and the sullen black clouds reaping their peaks. “I say we untie the beasts and get that coffin over here near the trees. Leave the wagons ‘til morning. Fuck all else we can do now, John. We’ll only be digging them out again soon enough.”
“If it keeps raining like this, we’ll lose our lead.”
“Then best we get young Peter here to start praying forgiveness for whatever sins the Almighty has set on us today,” Dimiti growled. “Because judging by this weather, they were mighty bad.”
Peter crossed himself. “I keep telling you to be more careful how you take the Lord’s name, Dimiti. He won’t like that kind of talk.”
Dimiti clapped the younger man’s shoulder. Jerked head to the wagon. “You go hop on up, lad. Leave the rest to us for a bit. John’ll be in for you soon.”
Hesitated. “You sure?”
“Yeah,” John agreed. “You’ve helped out already, mate. We’ll dump the rest.”
Dimiti spat into the mud. Said; “Sure you want to cut it loose, John?”
“It’s worth trying. Don’t you think we should try?”
“It’s dark now, though. We should be setting camp. Here’s as good a spot as we’re likely to get.”
“I know you think it’s stupid of me. And I’m a bit of a stubborn man as you all know. But I’d like to give it one good try, if we can. If we bog down a second time, I promise we won’t go further.”
The older man nodded. “Aye, well. That’s fair enough. I can’t argue you ain’t looking out for us, John. And you’ve always done right. Patient or not. So, I’ll give you my back and you’ll have every honest bit of strength I’ve got left.”