He gave me a wry smile, and I made myself return it, though I still felt uneasy as my gaze found Gabriel in the back of the train.
Our train pulled into the Klausenburgh station just before noon. Abe took a cab to the post office to pick up the weapons the gunsmith had shipped from Amsterdam, before meeting up with us at the stables on the outskirts of town.
At the stables, the stableman seemed to know Radu quite well, giving him a warm smile and embrace as he spoke to him in rapid German. He provided us with several horses, and we were soon riding out of Klausenburgh and into the surrounding countryside, crossing the wide expanse of the Somes Plateau, until we entered the ancient forests that seemed to dominate much of Transylvania.
The same strong sense of nostalgia that had swept over me in Amsterdam affected me once more, but this nostalgia brought back far darker memories.
Transylvania seemed to belong on a continent of its own, with its vast wilderness of forests, isolated lakes, streams and caverns, and the ever-present shadow of the Carpathians looming in the distance. Death seemed to abide here, something the locals seemed to embrace rather than shy away from with their religious rituals. There was the parastas, a memorial service held forty days after the deceased was buried to celebrate the soul’s departure to heaven; the eve of All Souls Day, when family graves were cleaned and candles lit to honor the dead; and the strange tradition of holding a nunta mortilor, a wedding of the dead for a deceased person who had died unmarried.
And then there were the superstitions. The whispered rumors of witches, pixies, and hobgoblins that hid in the forests, ready to do harm to any humans who crossed their path. Father, Abe and I used to come across protective crosses on homes and wreaths of garlic hung in doorways to ward off supernatural evil. Vampires, the monsters in human skin who roamed the night, was the most pervasive rumor.
Emerging from my reverie, I took in the vaguely familiar sights of the Transylvanian countryside. Every once in a while, we passed the crumbled ruins of some medieval castle off in the distance; Saxon towns, villages, fortified churches and farms otherwise dotted the landscape. But the region seemed more deserted than it had been when I first visited—many of the towns and villages we passed were now empty or sparsely populated. I wondered morbidly if this was what the rest of Europe would become. The world. Completely deserted as the population was killed, abducted, or fled.
My hands were trembling on my reins when we arrived at a fortified village sometime later. A high stone wall and several watchtowers surrounded the village on all sides, while a massive gate dominated its entrance. As our horses trotted towards the gate, Radu held up his hand.
“Please remain here,” he said, addressing me, Abe and Seward.
We obligingly lingered behind while Radu, Anara, and Gabriel rode towards the gate. As soon as they dismounted, the gate swung open.
The woman who hurried out enveloped Radu in a warm embrace. She was petite with honey colored skin and fine features framed by a long cascade of dark wavy hair, and her eyes were a vivid mixture of green, brown, and gold. She turned to look at us, and I felt the unmistakable chill of a vampire’s gaze. I saw a brief flicker of recognition in her eyes as she studied me, but it quickly dissipated.
Behind her, dozens of men and women approached the gate, looking both delighted and relieved to see Radu. Radu turned and gestured for us to follow them inside, and we dismounted from our horses, heading through the gate and into the central courtyard.
A white steepled gothic hall church overlooked the large courtyard, which was dotted with a patchwork of vegetable gardens. Saxon-style homes with thatched roofs lined the inner fortress wall, alongside storage cells that had been strategically built into the wall.
I looked around at the people gathered in the courtyard, counting nearly fifty humans—and some vampires, I suspected. From their attire, I deduced that most of the humans were Romani; the women wore the traditional dress of colorful ankle-length skirts paired with aprons and scarves covering their hair, while the men wore hats, vests over their long-sleeved shirts, and boots. There seemed to be no obvious tension between the humans and vampires; they seemed unified, and we were the outsiders.
“Both the Romani and vampires have been persecuted by humans,” Gabriel said softly. He stood at my side, and had noted my surprise. “Vampires have protected them, and they have shielded vampires in turn.”
The female vampire introduced herself as Szabina and ushered us into the church, which was filled with rows of wooden pews, its high-vaulted ceiling making the small interior seem larger and more imposing. We sat in the front pews while the other humans and vampires crowded behind us and in the aisles.
Radu addressed Szabina and the others in Romanian. I didn’t speak the language, but I assumed he was giving them a brief overview of our journey and our intention to get to the fortress to kill Vlad, and rescue Jonathan along with the other prisoners.
As Radu spoke, Szabina’s eyes strayed to me. Though her countenance remained neutral, it seemed oddly probing. Did she know me somehow? When I met her gaze full on, Szabina averted her eyes, returning her focus to Radu.
“Vlad and Ilona’s vampires have attacked near the human villages,” she said, speaking in heavily accented English for our benefit, when Radu had finished. “Those who have not been abducted or murdered have fled to the cities. Those who remain have joined those monsters out of fear. This is one of the few villages they have not attacked. They know vampires dwell here. But soon, they will come.”
“Then time is of great importance,” Radu said urgently. “Will you join us?”
“I do not think the humans should attempt to fight them,” Szabina said, once again glancing at me.
“The humans will fight. They have come too far not to,” Radu said, before we could protest. “They have already survived two attacks by ferals. If you and the others are willing, they can be trained.”
“We tried fighting back against them,” Szabina said, with quiet desperation. “It is why our numbers are low. We have lost many in the fight. We tried riding out to villages for others to fight with us, but no one is left. Whatever Vlad’s plan is . . . he is winning.”
A grave silence fell, and my body grew cold with dread. The villagers back in Ijsbran had refused to join us, then Matyas, and now Szabina. Even with Radu, Anara, and Gabriel, how could we hope to attack the fortress if Vlad had hundreds of followers at his disposal? We could not attack on our own.
“His plan is to invade. You must know that by now,” I said, getting to my feet to face Szabina and all who were gathered. “Our numbers are not great, but we can still fight. What is the alternative? To let them take over? To let them win? You say other villagers have fled. One day soon, there may be nowhere to flee to. We have no choice but to try to stop Vlad. We must.”
As Szabina translated my words, I met the eyes of every human and vampire gathered around the church. The gazes that met mine ranged from caution, to wariness, to hope.
“You know she speaks the truth, Szabina,” Radu said, when Szabina had finished translating.
“She does,” Szabina replied, her eyes holding mine for a long moment. “But I will leave the choice up to the villagers.”
She turned to face the others and spoke in hushed Romanian. I stood nervously as the humans and vampires began speaking amongst themselves. Finally, several men and women turned to Szabina, giving her an affirming nod.
“Very well, Mina,” Szabina said, not meeting my eyes. “They have decided. We will fight one last time.”
3
Training
We took a midday meal in one of the larger homes that lined the fortress wall, where we ate ghiveci—a hearty vegetable stew—and bread. Szabina, Radu, and a few of the curious human villagers joined us as we ate. Szabina and Radu remained in a corner of the large kitchen, speaking to each other in hushed tones. Szabina glanced over at me periodically, her expression tumultuous. I was increasingly convinced that she knew me so
mehow, and made a mental note to ask her when I had the chance.
But in the meanwhile, I ignored Szabina’s frequent glances, focusing on one of the few English-speaking villagers, a young woman named Elisabeta, who sat with us. She had a cascade of dark curly hair and warm brown eyes, and she kindly answered our questions about the village. She told us that fortified villages such as this one were built in medieval times as a place of refuge for villagers during prolonged sieges and attacks. Such villages now provided a much-needed sanctuary, given the recent rash of vampire attacks.
“My people weak to the attacks—we live on outskirts of villages. Szabina saved our life when our village attacked. She gave us shelter.”
“Weren’t you afraid of them?” Seward asked.
“We always known of the strigoi. Szabina is good. She one of us long ago. Strigoi who attacked—they not like Szabina or Radu. Their eyes black . . . their souls gone. Those strigoi we fear,” she added, with a shiver.
“We need to prepare,” Radu interrupted, moving away from Szabina to take a seat at the far end of our table. “The fortress needs to be thoroughly scouted before we can make an accurate plan of attack. I am having two scouts ride ahead, which gives us a full day and a half to ready ourselves until they return. Szabina and the other vampires here will help train you.”
Soon after our meal, Szabina gathered all the humans who were to fight in the central courtyard, ordering us to bring our weapons with us. Anara, Radu, Gabriel, and several other vampires moved to stand in an intimidating row in front of us.
Despite her petite stature, I could tell that Szabina commanded much respect; she held everyone’s attention as she stepped forward, her multicolored eyes continually straying towards me as she addressed us in Romanian, and then English.
“We are strong and we are fast. Many of us can hold our prey in thrall,” Szabina said, her voice carrying across the courtyard. “But we do have weaknesses. We can be staked or beheaded. Aim for here, or here,” she said, pointing to her heart, and then her throat. “Anywhere else may wound us, but not kill. For the thrall, avoid looking in the eyes . . . that is how we enter your mind.”
She stopped speaking for a moment, allowing her words to settle. Next to me, Seward and Abe listened intently, and I could practically see Abe sorting the information in his mind to be added to his journal later.
“Make certain you have your weapons. None of us will harm you, but the vampires at Vlad’s fortress will try to rip you apart,” she concluded darkly.
I held one of my kukri knives in my left hand; the second one and a knife were securely stowed in my sleeves and the bodice of my dress. Around me, the other humans clutched knives and makeshift wooden stakes. Abe and Seward stood at my side. Seward had lost his revolver in the train derailment, and was now armed with two of Abe’s knives.
Szabina nodded to the other vampires, and they moved into predatory crouches. Though I knew they would not harm us, apprehension filled me at the sight. Even Radu and Gabriel, whom I had slowly come to trust, looked lethal in their crouched positions.
Szabina did not give us the order to run; she and the other vampires merely sprang towards us at an impossibly fast speed.
My instincts set in, and I turned on my heel to race towards the open gates and out of the village, dashing into the depths of the surrounding forest with the other humans.
Seward, Abe, and I kept pace together as we ran, but a vampire soon tackled Seward to the ground from behind, while another grabbed Abe and slammed him against a tree.
I halted when the vampire grabbed Abe, raising my kukri to intervene, but Abe’s eyes met mine as he struggled with the vampire.
“Run, Mina!” he shouted.
I had to remind myself that this was a training exercise; they would not harm Abe. But I was still fearful as I raced away from him.
I only made it a few yards when a hand gripped my neck and pinned me down to the ground from behind. But the grip was gentle, and I twisted around to see Gabriel hovering above me.
“You need to fight me, Mina,” he said. “You can wound me. I will heal.”
I tried to yank myself out of his grip, but he was far too strong. I turned back to look at him, hesitant. My growing trust made me reluctant to wound him; I could not believe that I’d nearly killed him only two days ago.
Seeing my continued hesitation, Gabriel yanked my head backward, more roughly this time, and bared his teeth. At the sight, my instincts took over, and I swiftly sank my kukri back into his shoulder. Gabriel let out a howl of pain, loosening his grip, and I stumbled to my feet to scramble away.
The trees whipped past me as I ran, and through the forest depths I could vaguely hear frantic shouts and cries as the other humans fought off the vampires. But the sounds became more distant as I ran, and I soon found myself in a dark patch of forest.
The trees grew closer together here, their density allowing very little sunlight to filter through their coiled branches—a dark prison erected by nature. A sense of dread crept over me, and I turned to race back towards the village.
But as soon as I turned, I heard a vicious snarl from the black depths of the forest behind me, and felt the cold gaze of a vampire. Had I stumbled across a random feral roaming through the countryside? Had I strayed too far from the others?
I started to dash out of the clearing, lifting up my skirt to pick up my speed, but when I heard the swift cracking of twigs and snapping of branches behind me, I knew the vampire was racing towards me and would soon overtake me. I continued to run, opening my mouth to let out a desperate scream to alert the others.
A cold hand reached out and gripped me by my neck from behind, as Gabriel had done only moments earlier, abruptly cutting off my scream. This time, the hold was far rougher than my brother’s grip had been.
My captor yanked me around. It was Anara, but I felt no relief at the sight of her; her eyes were ferocious and filled with the promise of violence.
She dropped her hand from my throat. Her gaze remained trained on mine as my body lifted from the ground, and I was slammed hard against a nearby tree. Unable to move, terror flooded me as Anara stalked towards me like a wolf approaching fresh prey. When she reached me, her hand again went to my throat, her eyes burning like fire. Her hand tightened around my throat and I panicked as I struggled to breathe.
We were completely alone in the clearing, and her face showed no hint of mercy as she continued to squeeze the air from my lungs. I had no way to defend myself, no way to fight back.
I did not know why Anara hated me so, but even with her hand on my throat, I knew instinctively that she wasn’t evil. There was more to her, a pain and humanity that was absent from the mindless ferals I had encountered. I raised my eyes to hers in desperation, pleading with my eyes for her to release me. But when my eyes locked with hers . . . something strange happened. I saw something. Felt something.
I was a young girl, my reed thin arms wrapped around my legs as I wept and rocked myself back and forth, seated in the center of the splintered wooden floor of a tiny cottage that had been ransacked; furniture and scraps of food were scattered about. In front of me, a man and a woman—my parents?—were being dragged away by a group of men.
“Please! Don’t harm my little girl!” the woman screamed. Her pain was palpable; her body wracked with grief and terror. “Leave my Anara be! Please, she has done nothing! I beg you!”
“Take me, please!” the man begged. “Leave my wife and child alone. Kill me, not them! Please!”
“Mama!” I screamed. The word was thin and my throat was strained, as if I had been crying for days. I scrambled to my feet and raced towards my parents. “Papa!”
One of the men stepped forward and backhanded me, sending me sailing across the room, and I hit the wall with such force that I slipped from consciousness.
And then the scene was gone. I was back in the present, crouched on my hands and knees on the ground, coughing and gasping for breath. Anara had stumbled away
from me, her hands pressed to the sides of her head, looking dazed.
I was disoriented by what I had seen, but my self-preservation kept me focused, and I reached for the kukri that had dropped to the ground, holding it out defensively should she try to attack me again.
But Anara made no move towards me, her eyes clouded with confusion as she looked at me, her breathing ragged. We stood at a stalemate for several moments, until I dimly heard multiple footfalls approach the clearing.
“Mina!” Abe shouted as he raced into the clearing, his eyes sweeping over me with fretfulness. “I heard you scream. Are you—”
“I’m . . . I’m all right,” I said hastily, as other humans and vampires began to file into the clearing.
Gabriel hurried into the clearing, pushing past the others, his gaze straying suspiciously from me to Anara. When he saw my throat, he grabbed Anara and pinned her to a tree, his lips curled back in a ferocious snarl.
“Did you harm my sister?” he roared.
But Anara was unfazed by Gabriel’s fury. She was still focused on me, her confused expression shifting to one of suspicion.
“How did you do that?” she demanded, ignoring Gabriel. “You were in my mind. You did something to me!”
“You are far stronger and she’s the one who is bruised! Answer me!” Gabriel shouted.
“What is happening?” Szabina asked sharply. She and Radu entered the clearing, moving past the cluster of humans and vampires who had gathered.
“She attacked my sister!” Gabriel snapped.
“Anara. I already warned you—” Radu began, looking furious.
“I–I wasn’t going to kill her! She was able to release herself from the thrall, which is impossible!” Anara cried, pointing a quivering finger at me. “She was in my mind. I felt her!”
Szabina stiffened at her words, and I saw alarm flicker in her eyes.
The Mina Murray Series Bundle, A Dracula Retelling: Books 1-3 Page 20