Tales of the Scarlet Knight Collection: The Call

by P. T. Dilloway

  The fighting lasts for another couple of minutes, most of it finishing off those vampires badly burned from my initial attack. There’s one who remains. He’s dressed in regal fashion, right down to the crown on his ugly head. I recognize him as the father of the current owner of the castle, the previous Count Dracula.

  He’s the first vampire to ever talk to me. “We will return,” he hisses to me.

  I shrug at this. “You’re probably right.” Then I put a crossbow bolt through his chest. He screams and writhes on the floor until I finish him off with an Ashes to Ashes spell.

  I repeat this with the others, until the crypt is full of nothing but ashes. Then I vanish back to my room, my work complete.

  ***

  I reclaim my table in Edinburgh. It’s a different bartender, so he doesn’t realize that the last time I came in here I was just a pimple-faced girl and that before that I was a middle-aged woman. Since I’m old enough now for hard liquor, I order four whiskeys: two for me and two for Glenda. I drink one of these while I wait for her to arrive.

  She’s punctual as always, sitting down at my table a minute later. She gulps down one of her whiskeys before I make my report. She nods at this, not so much as cracking a smile. “I knew you could handle it,” she says.

  “I guess so.” I sip from my other whiskey, wanting it to last a little longer. “You have another assignment for me?”

  “You want to get back in the field so soon?”

  “What else am I supposed to do?”

  “Well, you could take a vacation.”

  “I didn’t think we took vacations.”

  Glenda shrugs. “Your sister is about to give birth any time now to her third son. I know she’d like for her little sister to be there.”

  “Why? I wasn’t there for the first two.”

  “It’s been nine years Sylvia. Isn’t it about time you put things right between you?”

  “We’ve gone longer without seeing each other.”

  Glenda gulps her second whiskey and then signals for another. “You’re not going to make this easy, are you?”

  “Why are you suddenly concerned about my relationship to Agnes?”

  “I’ve always been concerned.”

  “You’re the one who kept me away from her for five years.”

  “Because I knew you weren’t ready. I suppose you still aren’t.”

  I only snort at this. “This is where I’m supposed to say I’ll go because you’re saying I can’t handle it, right?”

  “I was merely stating my opinion.”

  “You never ‘merely’ do anything, you conniving old hen.”

  She smiles at this and raises her recently arrived glass to me. “There’s the Sylvia Joubert I know and love. It’s good to see you’ve reclaimed your spirit.”

  “I didn’t reclaim anything.”

  “Please. I remember when you were skipping around as a fat little farm girl, happy as a pig in shit.”

  “I was happy. What’s wrong with that?”

  “You really wanted to spend the rest of your life milking cows?”

  “Why shouldn’t I?”

  “Because there are a lot of girls who can milk a cow; there are very few who can kill forty vampires in one fell swoop.”

  “Thanks—I think.”

  Glenda nods and then finishes her drink. “Your sister is going to give birth in two weeks. It’s going to be her last child.”

  “I thought telling the future was forbidden.”

  “I don’t need to look into the future to know any of that. She’s thirty years old now; she’s not a young woman anymore.”

  “Are you saying she’s going to die?”

  “No, I’m only saying that it’s not going to be as easy for her this time. I’m sure if her prodigal sister returns, it will buoy her spirits.”

  “What about my spirits?”

  “I think it would help you to go back and face your old demons.” She smiles at this. “You can kill every other demon but your own.”

  “That’s because they don’t make a charm for that.” I leave some money on the table and then stand up. I take a few steps before I stop and turn around. “You’re sure that she wants to see me?”

  “She’s always going to love you. She’s your sister.”

  With that, the decision is made. I’m going back home.

  Chapter 25

  Since, as Glenda said, I’m here to slay my personal demons, I wear my vampire-hunting outfit as I vanish myself to the front gates of our old home. The gate isn’t open, which takes me by surprise, as Aggie usually anticipates when I’m going to show up. It’s easy enough to vanish to the other side of the gate and then start up the front path.

  The front of the house looks relatively unchanged since the last time I was here, except there are no decorations up this time for the wedding reception. I pause at the front steps, looking back towards the gate. There’s still time to vanish myself back to Edinburgh or Transylvania or anywhere else I want to go. Aggie’s already had two children without me; she doesn’t really need me here.

  I’m still working up my courage when the door opens and I run out of time. My entire body stiffens when I see that it’s Sabrina—the former Morgana—at the door. She stares at me for a moment, trying to remember me; we’ve met only briefly since her trial and transformation. I’ve gotten about ten years younger and she about ten years older since our last meeting. Her hair is white, her skin wrinkled, and eyes hidden behind spectacles to leave no trace of the infant in the archives. “Sylvia?”

  “Yes, it’s me. What are you doing here?” I stand on my doors to peek around her shoulder, into the foyer. “Is Glenda here?”

  “No.”

  I reach into my jacket to take out my crossbow. “Then why’s someone from the coven here? What are you doing to Agnes?”

  “I’m Agnes’s midwife.”

  “You?”

  “Of course. That’s one of my specialties. Unless you would rather let a mortal do it.” She reaches out to put a withered hand on my shoulder. “There’s nothing to worry about, young lady. I’ve already delivered her other children.”

  Her voice sounds sincere and there’s nothing in her eyes to indicate that she means Aggie any harm. With a nod I stick the crossbow back into its sling. “I’m sorry about that,” I say.

  “It’s perfectly understandable. You’re concerned about your sister.”

  “I suppose I am. Where is she?”

  “She’s in bed, resting.”

  “How is she?”

  “Why don’t you go see for yourself?”

  “Right,” I mumble and then brush past her. The interior of the house has changed slightly, with some different paintings on the walls. These are landscapes depicting Venice, Naples, and Tuscany, which I assume are to make Alejandro feel more at home.

  I stick my head in the living room and suck in a breath. The portrait of Mama, my sisters, and I is gone from over the fireplace. There’s another portrait of Aggie, Alejandro, and their two sons, who have Alejandro’s olive-tinged skin and brown eyes. The only difference is their hair is brown instead of black and they have Aggie’s finer bone structure. I find myself focusing on the image of Alejandro, who in the portrait at least looks just the same as I remember. The artist has even managed to capture the brightness of Alejandro’s smile.

  I have to force myself to look away and go upstairs. The house is silent except for the echo of my footsteps. Where are Alejandro and the children? I should have asked Sabrina that when I came in. Maybe they’ve gone away on a trip back to Italy and haven’t returned yet. Maybe they’ll be delayed until after the baby is born. If I’m lucky, I might be able to sneak in and out of here without having to see him again.

  I curse myself for my cowardice and then keep going up the stairs. I open the door to Aggie’s old bedroom, but she’s not in there. Instead, I see two smaller beds with a painting of a hunting scene over each bed. There are toy boats and soldiers on the flo
or to indicate this bedroom is for Aggie’s sons. I wonder if I should have brought them a present, but then I suppose vampire ashes wouldn’t make a very good gift.

  I’m still standing in the doorway when I hear Aggie call out, “Sylvia?” I follow the sound of her voice to Mama’s old bedroom, which is now the master bedroom. My sister is propped up on some pillows, the covers pulled up so I can only see the great hump of her pregnant stomach rising and falling.

  The years have been kind to her. Her hair is still golden and still in a long braid over her shoulder, like when we first came here. Her skin is paler than I remember, probably from staying here in the house the last few months. When she smiles, I see tiny lines around her lips and eyes. “I thought I felt you,” she says.

  “You and your feelings,” I say, unable to resist smiling back at her.

  “Come here so I can get a better look at you.” I do as she asks, stepping over to the side of the bed. I’m tall enough now that she can’t reach up to pinch my cheek or pat my head. Still, she makes me feel like a child when she says, “Look at you! So grown up now.”

  “Thanks.” I push a chair over beside the bed so I can sit down and look her in the eye. “How are you feeling?”

  She shrugs. “Pregnant. Very, very pregnant.”

  “Glenda said it shouldn’t be much longer.”

  “I hope she’s right.” Aggie sags back against her pillows. “This one has been so trying.”

  “Well, you’re not as young as you used to be.”

  “I’m only thirty. I’m not an old lady—so far as anyone else knows,” she says with a wink. Then she reaches out to take my hand. “So you’ve been killing vampires?”

  “Glenda tell you that?”

  “Sabrina mentioned it. You’d better watch out for her; she’s quite the busybody. I can only imagine what she tells the others about me.”

  “So are you still a witch? Glenda didn’t make you give up your powers?”

  “No, she’s never mentioned it.” We’re silent for a few minutes, both of us searching for the right words to say. Finally Aggie says, “I’m glad you’re here.”

  Then she falls asleep with a smile on her face.

  ***

  I leave Aggie to sleep and go down the hall. My bedroom is the same as I left it. The dresses Aggie made for me hang up in the closet and the adorable bows are piled up on the vanity. I’d like to burn these reminders of those dark months I spent here as a twelve-year-old, but it would probably hurt Aggie’s feelings.

  Taking off my jacket, I drape it over the back of a chair. I sag onto my old bed, letting out a tired sigh. The feather mattress is much better than the rough straw pallets—or hard slabs of rock—I’ve been sleeping on in Transylvania for the last five years. I reach beside me on the bed, where Aggie has left the doll Alejandro gave me for that first Christmas. Staring at the doll’s glass face is almost like looking in a mirror nine years ago. I think back to that day and how distraught I was when Alejandro gave me a doll while Aggie received a beautiful necklace.

  I’m still thinking about this when I hear a man clear his throat. “Hello, Mademoiselle Sylvia,” Alejandro says. “Madame Sabrina said you were up here.”

  The doll falls from my hands, onto the mattress. I can see then that the portrait did not do him justice. He looks even more handsome than last time I saw him, the few gray hairs at his temples and lines around his eyes giving him a distinguished look. My face turns warm as I realize what a sight I must look like in my dusty green tunic and leggings, with my boots still on, and my hair uncombed. “Yes, I’m right here,” I stammer, instantly becoming twelve again.

  “You must be tired after your journey. Would you care for something to eat? I could have the cook—”

  “No, I’m fine.”

  “Perhaps some water? Or wine?”

  “No, thank you. I’m just going to take a little nap.”

  “Yes, of course. Forgive the intrusion.”

  “It’s not a problem.” I smile weakly at him, feeling ready to faint when he smiles back at me. He nods and then backs out of the room. I wait until he’s gone to kick off my boots and roll onto my side, clutching the doll he gave me to my chest.

  I lie on the bed but I don’t fall asleep. My mind is too busy repeating our brief encounter over and over again. I had hoped that after nine years and everything I’d gone through I could handle being around Alejandro again. It’s clear from what happened, that I can’t. Despite everything, my feelings for him still haven’t changed and I’m no better at handling them as when I was a little girl.

  My instincts tell me to leave this place immediately. I should go before I get hurt again—or before I say or do something to hurt Alejandro or Aggie. I should forget about fighting my own personal demons and just slither off somewhere to hide until Alejandro is gone.

  I know all of this, but I don’t. I think of Aggie down the hall, ready to give birth at any moment. I think of her smile and how happy she is to see me again. She’s my sister and she needs my love and support. Sitting up, I tell myself that I can handle being around Alejandro for a few days, until Aggie gives birth and I can leave again.

  The problem is that I can’t seem to get away from Alejandro for long. Sabrina taps on my door to call me for dinner. She eats in the kitchen while Alejandro and I eat in Aggie’s room with her. Alejandro sits on one side of the bed and I sit on the other, both of us facing Aggie, watching her for any sign that it’s time.

  Aggie grunts and then puts a hand on her stomach as the baby kicks her. “He’s a strong one,” she says. “One of these days he’s going to kick right through my stomach.”

  “He must get his strength from his mother,” Alejandro says. He leans down to kiss Aggie’s hand. From the way she blushes at this, I know she’s still as madly in love with him as she was nine years ago. I have to turn away towards the window to hide my embarrassment.

  “So, Sylvia,” Aggie says and I turn to face her, “what sorts of adventures did you have while you were gone?”

  “Oh, well, it wasn’t too exciting. I just walked around. Did some odd jobs.”

  “There must be more to it than that,” Aggie says. Glenda’s probably told her everything already, but she wants me to get it out in the open with Alejandro around.

  “I spent the first few months in the forest in Germany. When it got cold I met this nice woman named Frau Braun. She had a dairy farm and she let me work there for a while—until I had to move on.” I have to be careful not to say anything about the reason I left, because I’m certain Alejandro doesn’t know the truth about his wife. I quickly run through some of the other jobs I held as I grew up again.

  Alejandro listens with genuine interest, nodding his head thoughtfully at times. Once I finish, he asks, “What have you been doing lately?”

  “Mostly I’ve been hunting. Big game. Bears and such.”

  “That seems like a dangerous profession for a young woman.”

  If one of those clods in Romania had said that I would have chopped their windpipe just to show them how vulnerable this “young woman” was, but not with Alejandro. With him I only look shyly at the floor. “It’s not that dangerous if you know what you’re doing.”

  “Sylvia’s always been good in the outdoors,” Aggie says. “Ever since she was a little girl, she would go out into the forest on her own no matter how much Mama scolded her.”

  “Not all women are meant to be domesticated,” Alejandro says, looking at me. I blush again and wish I could leave, but then Aggie groans.

  She turns to me, trying to smile through her pain. “Sylvia, be a dear and fetch Sabrina. My water just broke.”

  Chapter 26

  When it comes to giving birth, a witch is like any mortal woman. Despite Sabrina’s century of midwife experience and Aggie’s extensive knowledge of potions, there’s nothing that can take away the pain as she gives birth—at least nothing safe. All Sabrina can do is give Aggie a wooden spoon to bite down on.

&n
bsp; “Isn’t there something else you can do?” I ask.

  “I’m afraid not. Using any magic on her would be too dangerous for her and the child.”

  Alejandro, like any mortal man at this time, has gone down to the living room to wait. I consider going down there with him, but Aggie reaches out for my hand, taking it in hers. “Please stay with me,” she whimpers.

  I regret holding her hand when the next contraction comes and Aggie nearly breaks every bone in my hand. I have to bite down on my lip to keep down a scream of my own. Still I manage to keep hold of her hand throughout the process. “You’re doing fine, Agnes,” Sabrina says. “Everything is fine.”

  It seems strange to me that Morgana, who tried to kill me over a century ago, is now Aggie’s midwife, saving her life and that of her unborn child. While I hold Aggie’s hand to reassure her, I keep an eye on Sabrina, just in case she starts to remember that old life and decides to get some payback. I wipe the sweat from Aggie’s forehead and then whisper, “You’re going to be all right—both of you.”

  “I wish Mama and Sophie were here,” Aggie says.

  “I’m sure they can see you from the afterlife.”

  “You think so?”

  “Of course.”

  Another contraction causes Aggie to scream again. I’ve heard plenty of screams from dying monsters, but this is much worse because it’s my sister. I wish I could do something for her pain, to make this easy for her. There’s nothing I can do, except to keep holding her hand and try to reassure her. “You’re doing fine.”

  “It hurts so much.”

  “I know it does.”

  “No you don’t! You don’t know anything!” Aggie shouts this as she writhes in pain again. After the contraction, she looks downcast at her stomach. “I’m sorry.”

  “No, you’re right. I’ve never had a baby.” I look over at Sabrina, thinking of the dream Morgana had fabricated in the cave, where I was pregnant with Henri’s child. That was the life I had always wanted—the life Aggie now had. Thinking then of Frau Braun’s farm, I remember how happy I was as an ordinary milkmaid. Since becoming a witch all I’ve ever wanted is a normal life, a mortal woman’s life.