The Vampire Knife

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The Vampire Knife Page 1

by Jack Henseleit




  CONTENTS

  TITLE PAGE

  1 NEARLY THERE

  2 THE WILD THYME INN

  3 HIDDEN THINGS

  4 FORBIDDEN WORDS

  5 THE WITCHING HOUR

  6 UNDER THE BED

  7 MYTHS AND MAPS

  8 A SNAKE IN THE GRASS

  9 DROWNED RATS

  10 THREE KEYS

  11 A FAIRY’S TALE

  12 OPEN JAWS

  13 DEAD END

  14 THE CHILDREN OF THE NIGHT

  15 CROSSING THE THRESHOLD

  16 PARTING GIFTS

  17 BEDTIME STORIES

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  COPYRIGHT PAGE

  1

  NEARLY THERE

  ‘Will you tell me a story?’ Asked Max.

  Anna turned her head to try to look at him. The Professor had built a barricade of pillows and suitcases in the middle of the back seat to stop her and Max from kicking each other, and it had grown so high that all she could see now were the tips of his tufty brown hair. The rest of his face was hidden behind a pile of the Professor’s textbooks.

  ‘How about a game of I-spy?’ said Max. ‘You can go first.’

  Anna glanced out the window. She sighed.

  ‘There’s just one problem, Max,’ she said. ‘I can’t see anything.’

  It was a dark and stormy afternoon in Transylvania. Rain thundered down the hillside, drumming against the roof of the car as it twisted and turned along the mountain path. The car’s headlights were struggling against the gloom.

  Anna suspected they might be lost. It had been a long time since she had seen any road signs, and the current path was so narrow and rocky that it might not have been a road at all. The storm had made the first hour of the drive exciting. Now, at the end of the third hour, Anna was becoming concerned.

  ‘Are we nearly there?’ she asked.

  She pulled against her seatbelt so she could look into the front of the car. The Professor was gripping the wheel with both hands, his nose almost touching the windshield as he tried to see the road ahead. Every now and again he would look quickly at the passenger seat, which was piled high with charts and atlases. On the very top was the oldest map that Anna had ever seen. The paper was so worn and torn that it was beginning to break into pieces.

  Anna cleared her throat.

  ‘Are we nearly there?’ she asked in a loud voice.

  The Professor jumped, and the car wobbled from one side of the road to the other (which was not really very far at all).

  ‘Yes, nearly there,’ he said, looking nervously at the old map. He wiped his forehead. ‘At least, I think we are.’

  Anna groaned. It wouldn’t be the first time the Professor had got them lost. She sat back into her seat and crossed her arms.

  ‘I’ve still got some lollies left,’ said Max.

  ‘Liar.’

  ‘I’m not a liar. I’ve saved nearly half of them.’

  ‘Show me then.’

  Anna watched as a brown paper bag appeared above the barricade. It looked about half full. Anna was impressed. She had finished all of her own lollies more than two hours ago.

  ‘I’ll share them,’ said Max. ‘But you have to tell me a story.’

  A fork of lightning crashed into the nearby forest. Thunder boomed overhead so loudly that it might have been a giant ripping apart the sky.

  ‘Deal,’ said Anna.

  A red lolly snake sailed over the pile of suitcases and landed in her lap.

  ‘Don’t make it too scary,’ said Max. ‘Just a little bit scary.’

  Anna picked up the snake and bit its head off.

  ‘All right,’ she said. ‘Give me a minute to think.’

  Anna chewed up the rest of the snake, staring out the window at the dark woods. She smiled to herself.

  And then the story began.

  ‘Once upon a time,’ said Anna, ‘there was a little boy named Max, who was only eight years old. Max lived in the city with his sister, who was eleven, and their father, who was called the Professor. One day the Professor took Max and his sister on a work trip, to a great forest that was growing in the middle of nowhere. But Max should never have entered the forest.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Because in the forest it was always night, and it was always raining, and the paths were so long and overgrown that even the Professor could get lost. But even worse were the things that lived beneath the trees. And worst of all, in the deepest, darkest centre of the woods …’ Anna paused for dramatic effect. ‘There was a witch.’

  ‘I want to stop the story for a minute,’ said Max quickly.

  Anna stopped. She was glad Max couldn’t see how widely she was smiling.

  ‘Firstly,’ said Max, ‘I want you to know that I’m not scared of witches anymore. So I don’t mind that there’s a witch in the story. Okay?’

  ‘Okay,’ said Anna.

  ‘But I said to only make it a little bit scary. So I don’t want anything bad to happen to Max, all right?’

  ‘You always say that,’ said Anna. ‘But you know that something has to happen to him.’

  ‘Anna, be nice,’ called the Professor from the front seat. ‘Why don’t you read Max some of your book instead?’

  Anna wrinkled her nose. The Professor had bought her a fairy book at the airport, but it was entirely the wrong kind. The cover was a bright, glittery pink, and the fairies in the story weren’t even slightly scary. The books she liked (sealed in her suitcase, buried somewhere in the great pile) were real fairy stories – the kind with witches and goblins who played dangerous tricks on unwary girls and boys. The children would usually have to win their freedom from the enchanted forest, outsmarting the fairies. Sometimes they would even take some magical treasure back with them.

  But the stories didn’t always have happy endings. Sometimes the monsters won.

  Anna shivered.

  ‘No thanks,’ she said. She kicked the pink fairy book further under the passenger seat. ‘We’ve already started this one.’

  ‘Yes, we have,’ said Max. ‘And it’s okay, because Max is going to be fine, isn’t he?’

  Anna didn’t answer the question. She continued the story instead.

  ‘Max knew that he wasn’t supposed to go into the forest. But after a while he began to feel a little braver, and he started to play closer and closer to the trees. Then one day, Max felt even braver, braver than he had ever felt before. He thought that going into the woods might be a good adventure.

  ‘And he decided to take a step in.’

  There was a flash of lightning, and even Anna jumped. For a second she could see the forest outside, lit up as if it were a sunny day. The trees were old and warped, with curved branches that stretched out towards the road like wooden arms. Some of the twigs looked like fingers, long and sharp.

  ‘What was that?’ said Max. He sounded terrified.

  ‘It was just lightning,’ said Anna.

  ‘Not that. I saw something. In the woods.’

  ‘What? What was it?’

  Anna craned her neck to look out Max’s window, but the lightning had passed. All she could see was blackness.

  ‘I don’t know,’ said Max. ‘It looked like a person. A tall person, with white eyes.’

  ‘It was probably just a bear,’ said the Professor. ‘Transylvania is full of bears. Wolves, too.’

  Anna thought that seeing a bear would have been rather thrilling.

  ‘It wasn’t a bear,’ said Max. ‘It was something else. It was looking right at me.’

  ‘Well, I think it was a bear,’ said the Professor. ‘And I think we’ve heard enough of your story for now, Anna.’

  ‘Fine,’ said Ann
a. She crossed her arms. ‘I think we’ve had enough of your map reading,’ she added quietly.

  The storm was getting worse. The rain was beating down harder than ever, rumbling loudly against the top of the car. Anna hoped the roof wouldn’t collapse. Nobody said anything as they drove deeper into the forest.

  Then another lolly snake dropped onto her lap.

  Anna grinned. She turned towards the barricade and quietly started pulling away at the bags and books, dropping each one down at her feet. A few seconds later she heard Max start to burrow from the other side. The barricade wobbled precariously – but then the final bag slid away and the tunnel was complete, and there was Max, looking in from the other side of the hole. Anna had the peculiar feeling that she was peering at someone through a library shelf.

  ‘Finish the story!’ whispered Max.

  Anna shot a sneaky glance towards the Professor.

  ‘Okay,’ she said. ‘Here’s what happened next.

  ‘Max knew that the forest paths could not be trusted, and that he would have to find his own way home. He had some bread in his pocket, and he crumbled it up and left a trail behind him.’

  ‘That’s from Hansel and Gretel,’ said Max.

  ‘He knew that he would be able to follow the breadcrumbs when he wanted to turn back, and that they would lead him safely out through the trees.’

  ‘No they won’t,’ said Max. ‘The birds will eat them.’

  Anna glared at him.

  ‘Max thought that the birds might eat the breadcrumbs,’ she said. ‘But they didn’t. It was an evil forest, and all of the birds and small animals had been driven away long ago. All that remained were the bears and the wolves – and the witch.

  ‘And Max didn’t know this, but it would have been far safer if the birds had eaten the breadcrumbs, because the trail he had made could be followed in two directions. If you went one way, the trail would lead a person out of the forest. But if the trail was followed the other way, it would lead a person straight to Max.’

  The car slowed to a stop. Anna sat up, worried that the story might have been overheard, but the Professor was distracted. His face was pressed up against the window, squinting hopefully.

  ‘This might be the place,’ he said. ‘I’ll have to get out and check. Will you be okay on your own for a moment?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Anna.

  ‘Yes,’ said Max, less confidently.

  The Professor smiled at them reassuringly. He opened the car door, and for a second the wind outside could be heard at full volume, whispering and whistling and churning and roaring in great, rainy gusts. Then the door slammed shut, and the storm was muted once more.

  The two children suddenly felt very alone.

  ‘Let’s not have any more story until Dad gets back,’ said Max.

  ‘Are you sure?’ said Anna. ‘The next part’s really good.’

  ‘Is it scary?’

  ‘It’s a little bit scary.’

  Max couldn’t help himself. ‘All right. Keep going.’

  Anna smiled.

  ‘So Max crept quietly through the forest, leaving the trail of breadcrumbs behind him. But what he didn’t realise was that someone was creeping along behind him. He didn’t know that someone was getting closer and closer – almost close enough to touch him.’

  Max’s face went very still. Anna leant forward so her face filled the tunnel, smiling so that her teeth were showing. She made her voice go low and spooky.

  ‘It was very dark beneath the trees, so dark that Max could barely see a thing. But the person was so close now that Max heard a footstep that was not his own. And he finally realised that someone – or something – was lurking in the blackness.

  ‘And so Max looked back.’

  The real Max, who couldn’t help himself, glanced quickly over his shoulder at the window behind him.

  And at that moment, his car door was thrown open.

  The storm rushed into the car. Anna was blinded as the rain gusted into her face; she rubbed her eyes, confused, trying to work out what had happened. She could hear Max screaming, but she didn’t know why – was it just the surprise of the door opening, or had something else happened? Anna swiftly undid her seatbelt and pushed herself up so she could see over the barricade.

  The storm rushed into the car.

  What she saw made her gasp in fright.

  A wrinkled old woman was reaching into the car, her withered hands stretching out from beneath a long, black cloak.

  She was reaching straight for Max.

  2

  THE WILD THYME INN

  Max yelled and shouted as the old woman’s hands undid his seatbelt and pulled him out of the car. Anna was speechless, her mouth hanging open. Then the door on Anna’s side opened as well, and suddenly someone was grabbing her around the waist and trying to lift her off the seat. Anna spun around, her fingernails raised like claws, ready to confront whatever monster was attacking her.

  It was the Professor.

  ‘Calm down!’ he said. ‘We need to get out of this storm!’

  ‘But … but …’ Anna was having difficulty speaking. ‘There’s a witch! A witch has got Max!’

  ‘What?’ said the Professor. ‘No, there aren’t any witches. That was the innkeeper. Quickly now!’

  Anna allowed the Professor to scoop her out of the car and half-tuck her under his raincoat. Then they were running through the storm, and the big, cold raindrops were splashing against the top of Anna’s head. Where were they going? It was only the middle of the afternoon, but Anna couldn’t see anything through the fog. She narrowed her eyes, concentrating hard, and finally saw two faint squares of yellow light that must have been windows. She ducked out from under the raincoat and ran towards them as fast as she could.

  Max was there already, struggling to free himself from the old woman’s clutches. He saw Anna and shouted in desperation.

  ‘Anna! Help me!’

  ‘It’s okay, Max! She’s not a witch!’ Anna called back. ‘I hope,’ she added under her breath.

  The inn was emerging unwillingly from the darkness. The building looked like it belonged in a different century. The white stone walls had been overgrown with vines and moss, and the wood on the front door was warped and scarred. Rain was flowing off the edges of the thatched roof like a thousand tiny waterfalls.

  There was also a sign by the door, propped up by a pot filled with small purple flowers. The painted letters were chipped and faded, but Anna could still make out what they said: THE WILD THYME INN.

  ‘Alo,’ said the old woman. She smiled down at Anna.

  Anna wondered what alo meant. ‘Alo? Oh – hello.’

  The old woman nodded and smiled again. She didn’t have very many teeth. Max was now standing very still, his eyes screwed shut. He kept them closed until the Professor arrived on the tiny veranda, shivering and shaking the rain out of his hair.

  ‘What a downpour!’ he said. ‘I doubt they’ll let me into the library at all if I can’t find a way to dry off.’

  The children immediately deflated.

  ‘You don’t have to go to the library straight away, do you?’ asked Max timidly.

  Anna hoped he wouldn’t leave either. Children were never allowed in the old libraries where the Professor did his studies, and once he started reading they never knew when he might come back. Mostly this was okay, because Anna and Max knew they were allowed to watch as many movies as they liked until the Professor returned, and they could even have lollies for dinner if he got back late enough. But this time, things were different. Even if the inn had a television (which Anna highly doubted), it was not the kind of place where the children wanted to be left alone.

  ‘I can stay for lunch,’ said the Professor. He grinned at them, but Anna could tell he was just trying to cheer them up. ‘And after that, you’ll get to play games with your babysitter.’ He gestured to the old woman. ‘Anna and Max, meet Mrs Dalca.’

  The woman gave them another relati
vely toothless smile.

  ‘Prânz?’ she said in a croaky voice. Seeing that they didn’t understand, she tried again, searching for the English word. ‘Lunch?’ Her accent was very thick.

  ‘Yes, please,’ said the Professor. ‘We are very hungry.’

  Anna was surprised to find that she really did feel like a hot meal; she had been too distracted to realise just how cold it was. She followed the woman – Mrs Dalca, she remembered – and the Professor into the inn. Max walked very closely beside Anna, glad to be free of the old lady’s clutches. He was still shivering.

  The inn was cheerier inside, but not by much. A fire burned at the base of a thick stone chimney, tickling the bottom of a brass cooking pot that hung above the flames. All of the furniture was made of twisted wood, and most of it looked dusty from disuse. Anna suspected they were the first guests to stay at the inn in quite some time.

  ‘Look at that,’ whispered Max. He pointed at the cooking pot. ‘That looks like a cauldron.’

  ‘No it doesn’t,’ said Anna. It did look a bit like a cauldron, but for now Anna wasn’t interested in scaring Max. She was a bit too close to feeling scared herself.

  The Professor sat them down at a long table in the centre of the room. Mrs Dalca shuffled over to the fire, lifting the lid off the pot and sniffing whatever was inside. Anna wrinkled her nose. She could smell the contents of the pot all the way from where she was sitting, and it didn’t smell good. It was like a strange mixture of onion and cloves, as well as some other things she couldn’t identify.

  Most of all, it smelt like garlic.

  Max had smelt it too. He was sniffing the air like a dog, scrunching up his nose as much as he possibly could.

  ‘That smells disgusting,’ he said.

  The Professor gave Max a stern look. ‘That’s a very rude thing to say.’

  Anna thought that it probably was very rude, but it was also very true.

  Mrs Dalca took the pot off the fire and dished out three bowls of the soupy stew. She carried them over to the table one at a time, beaming.

  ‘Isabella! Linguri!’ she called over her shoulder.

  A girl appeared from a room behind the kitchen, carrying a selection of spoons. Anna guessed the girl must be a similar age to herself. She had long, dark, curly hair, and was wearing a neat white dress decorated with squiggly red patterns. Anna noticed there was a scar on the girl’s cheek, shaped like a tiny crescent moon.

 

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