by Chanel Smith
“The people here have always swung between admiration and worship of their prince on the one hand, and fear and loathing at what he became. When he stopped taking local girls to feed on, like he did when my great-great grandfather came across him first, they stopped loathing him. They still fear him, but mostly they feel admiration for him for what he did when he was still one of them and still their prince. They admire him for his actions against the Turks those many centuries ago.”
“Mijn God. Just tell them about the castle, will you?” Sarah van Helsing remarked from the kitchen, where she was now pouring hot coffee into cups.
“Of course, my dear,” Harker answered.
“There was never a document made about where the castle stood; its sudden appearance only ever survived in folklore. There is one story about it which describes how Dracula often traveled to the castle. He would travel down the Tihuta Pass and run up the side of the valley, through a crevice and some secret steps to make his way to the clearings in front of the castle. He would change into a bat right at the bottom of the peak and fly to the window of his beloved lover. Elizabeth Bathory kept a small harem of virginal girls. She imported slaves from all over the continent for the purpose of feeding on them. But she had no desire to feed on them so much or so long that they would have to be turned to save them from death. So Dracula would feed together with his lover during the night.
“Then, just before dawn, a mist would rise and in the mist there was nothing. Except for sometimes a fleeting form, seen by a farmer. The form of a man, or an errant bat.” He took a cup of coffee from Sarah van Helsing. “Dank je wel schat.” He sipped the hot drink and looked at the three vampires.
“Yet, over time, it seemed it was not Vlad who was in control of the spells that moved the castle and that concealed it. The one in control of those spells was Elizabeth Bathory. She was a complete match for Dracula and she figured out how to control the web of spells that had been woven around her. She took control of the place, and now she could deny her lover when she wanted to. She could hide her castle from him too; its famed knowledge how Bathory enjoyed tormenting her lovers. In his frustration, Dracula began to terrorize the area. He began feeding on local woman and even the livestock when he could not feed with his lover. And in his aggravation at not being with her, he began killing again. He began killing in a way he had not done since the Turks came marching through. He became the terror of the local peasantry and townsfolk.
“When Elizabeth Bathory saw what it did to Dracula, she invited him back into her abode. She had only ever wanted to be independent of him. But another low point came with the abolition of slavery. Granted, it took the Ottomans who ruled here a lot longer to abolish slavery than it did the British. But the supply of fresh-blooded virgins dried up for the two, so Dracula went back to doing what he did best and had done best his entire life; feeding on innocent people. That is when he hatched the plot to move to England. Our ancestors stopped him there and followed him here. They almost killed him. Almost. Had he not had Elizabeth Bathory on his side, he would have been dead. She saved him and nursed him back to life.”
“So, what about the castle?” Anastasia asked. “Where is it? And how do we get there?”
Harker took a large draught of his coffee, and it was Sarah van Helsing who picked up the story. “You need to make it to the pass. There is a crevice there, but it won't be visible, unless you know what to look for. When you pass through, you will find yourself in a dale, and on the other side of that valley is the beginning of a peak. At the bottom of that peak is a stone, on which a virgin's blood must be spilt. For those who stand close to the stone when it is done, the castle will appear. You can find the road to the top then.” She smiled. “But what kind of nasties are on that road, we do not know.”
“Why the blood of a virgin?” Anastasia asked.
Harker shrugged. “We don't know. Flair for the dramatic, I suppose. Or maybe it has something to do with their preference of virgins? Or maybe they are less likely to have blood deficiencies and other diseases? Or maybe it's just a story.”
They finished their drinks in silence. Harker and van Helsing did not seem to feel any obligation to make conversation in the dead of night, and none of the three companions seemed to know what to talk about. Just before dawn, they said goodbye to the couple and went back to the hotel. Alexei lay down on the bed immediately and fell asleep straight away.
Veronica looked out of the window, looking at the tiny glimmer made by the sun threatening to rise over the tiled roofs. Anastasia sat on a chair by the small salon table.
“What are you thinking?” Anastasia asked Veronica.
“I'm wondering how we can get some damned virgin blood.”
Anastasia chuckled.
“You believe that story?”
Veronica shrugged. “Not sure. But I would not be surprised if that were part of their spell. Seems like the sort of sick prank they would try to pull.”
“Got any idea how to get it then?'
“God knows. Everyone is fucking everyone these days. And maybe the story means no corruption, which would also mean no drugs.”
Anastasia was silent for a moment. Then she smiled. “Leave it to me.”
Chapter Seven
In the evening, one of the men of the group knocked on their door. Alexei jumped off the bed and opened the door. The big man nodded to him and smiled when he looked in and saw the two women. "We'll want to be moving in about half an hour. We're going to be hiking through the Borgo or Tihuta Pass, toward Vatra Dornei. Are you all ready?”
“Yeah,” answered Anastasia. She swung her legs off the bed and began pulling on her boots. Veronica looked at the man from the corner of her eye and saw he was quite obviously checking Anastasia out. She frowned. She had not thought about it, partly because of Anastasia still having the body of a teenager. But something had changed in the girl. Since she had carried a rifle to Veronica's rescue, she had grown in confidence. There was a proud, confident manner in her now. She walked with a bit of swagger and she held her head proud and stood tall.
And there was a good reason for it. She had been sheltered as a mortal princess, and as a vampire, she had been protected and sheltered again by Julia Agrippina. But when Veronica herself had failed to continue with that very protection that they were used to – and indeed had ended up needing help herself – it had given Anastasia a chance to finally break loose of those shackles. And she had taken the opportunity in stride.
Veronica sat herself down beside Anastasia on the bed. “So what was your plan for our sacrificial lamb?” she asked quietly.
“Don't worry about that.” Anastasia continued to tie her boots and then got up. She picked up her bag and her rifle, slinging both on her back. “I've got it covered.”
“I bet you do.” Veronica grabbed her own gear, slinging the rifle she had obtained the evening before. She thrust the shotgun into the side of her bag. She would give Alexei the weapon later, when they had left the town.
The boy might just let it go off in the town and shoot someone.
The whole group gathered in the lobby of the hotel and when Gilda O'Brien had counted and concluded everyone was present, they set off. They went on foot, so as to better scout the pass. According to the stories, the road to Count Dracula's castle lay on a road that led off the Borgo Pass. But if it were possible to find it, it would be impossible to take a coach up there.
For some reason, the castle had never been found again after the last stories about it had been written. The intention of the group was to find it and to finally find the true vampires.
The stupidity of the action still baffled Veronica. She unconsciously shook her head as they began to walk through the streets of Bistritz. Together with Anastasia and Alexei, she walked at the back of the group. Alexei must have been thinking the same as she was.
“I've always wondered about it, seeing the wannabe vampires and goths and all those underground types who think they are special, an
d now these people,” he said softly.
“What have you wondered about?” Anastasia asked her brother.
“How stupid human beings are.” He frowned, looking over the crowd. “Seriously. Looking for vampires in a region that still has footpads and has wolves and bears roaming around and then to just march themselves into a place that actually has some of the most infamous of our race living there. And still somehow think of it as romantic or something to find vampires and to be fed on or even turned.”
Veronica grinned. “Some people just like pain. And it seems losing some blood from time to time is good for a warm blooded human. Or so I have heard.” Alexei shook his head. “It's madness. No wonder we need Watchers to make sure preternaturals don't go too far. It's just too easy to get carried away with people being such idiots. Anyone of us who feeds on humans is like a kid in a candy shop in any center of population.”
He has a point, thought Veronica. Humans need protecting from themselves about as much as they need protecting from preternaturals. There are some real bastards amongst us; foul, evil creatures who kill randomly. But it's hardly surprising some of them become that way when humans let them.
“I mean, when I was a kid,” Alexei began.
Anastasia interrupted him. “You are a kid. About a hundred years old now, but a kid anyway.”
He poked his tongue at his sister and continued. “When I was a kid, people were deathly afraid of vampires and werewolves and demons. Could even sense their presence a lot of the time. Hell, even that damned man Rasputin felt preternatural presence and took precautions against it. I felt it too. But these days, it just seems to be a big joke to them. They don't listen to their own senses anymore.”
Veronica hushed him.
“Best shut up about that now. They might overhear you and decide they can sense you and find us all dangerous.” She walked forward, closing the small gap that had fallen between them and the rear of the group. “Not that you haven’t got a valid point,” she said, turning back to Alexei.
It took them half an hour to leave the town and get into the countryside. A short while later, the hills began to close in on them as they entered the Tihuta Pass. Veronica handed Alexei the shotgun and a box of cartridges.
“Don't load it until you need it,” she told him. The boy nodded and trailed the weapon. Anastasia and Veronica both trailed their rifles and she walked to the front of the group. Before she got there though, she felt Anastasia's hand on her shoulder. “I need to walk at the front.” she said.
“Why?” Veronica asked.
“Because I have something to take care of.”
Veronica shook her head and dropped back again. She saw the hockey fans she had spoken to the day before and went to walk beside them. The conversation was about hockey again, but she did not mind. The air was crisp and there was a joy in walking through this pass. She looked to the front and saw Anastasia brush against the young man she had been talking to on the bus the day before.
So that's her plan.
Out of nowhere, a thick mist came rolling in. Suddenly, there was the distant howling of wolves too. A bat flitted past, close to Veronica's head. She could sense the discomfort in the group, but they kept on walking, ever further into the pass.
Alexei came forward, walking right next to Veronica.
“Scared, boy?” Veronica grinned at him.
Alexei snorted. “Of course not. What do we have to be afraid of?”
“We?” Veronica looked into the thick fog. “Nothing, I’d think.”
“It's them that have to be afraid.”
“Yup.”
A light had appeared on the right. The group noticed too. One by one all the members of the party turned to look at the light. Slowly it approached. In a reflex, Veronica raised the rifle to her shoulder. Ahead she saw Anastasia push the young man's hand away and raise her own rifle. Alexei stumbled with his cartridges.
“What is it?” Alexei mumbled. The question was most likely rhetorical. He did not expect an answer.
Veronica kept the rifle aimed at the light, waiting for an actual target to present itself. A wolf howled nearby and the light stopped moving. Then the wolf stopped and the light moved again.
The shape of a man appeared. He walked hunched over, leaning on a cane. He looked old simply by virtue of his posture. He held the lantern high above his head and looked down on the crowd in the mist.
He spoke in Romanian, but nobody answered. Veronica looked at Anastasia, whom she knew had understood it. She saw her open her mouth to say something, but then closed her mouth again, licking her lips.
“Who are you?” the man asked. “What are you doing out here? You know it's a bad time to be out? People get lost in the mist; they get hypothermia and then they die. There're wolves here, bears, bandits. Haven't you heard? Or are you all just being stupid?”
It was Gilda O'Brien who stepped forward. “We are here to look for vampires. And we’ve come all the way from New York to look around this area.”
The old man laughed. “Don't be silly. You can't find anything in this fog anyway.” He pointed his cane up the hill, in the direction where he came from. “I live up there; you'd be welcome to shelter there for the night. When the fog is gone, you can go back to looking for vampires when you can actually see again.”
There was some murmuring in the group and Gilda O'Brien talked to some of them. Then she turned back to the old man.
“We'd be happy to take you up on your offer. It might actually be dangerous to be out in this weather.”
The man turned and led the way.
The path was a narrow road up the side of the hill. The surface was loose gravel and even Veronica found the going tough. She kept her eyes focused on the ground beneath her feet and only saw the yellow eyes in the dark from the corner of her eye. She pushed Alexei along, helping him to get up the hill. The path turned left and moved up again.
In the mist, dark and with the poor road beneath her feet, she did not see the building they were being lead to. Only when the group had gone through the gate and was safely on the top of the hill did she look around.
The old man was behind them and closed the gate. All around them were stone walls. There was a falling wall in front of them with a large oak door.
It's a trap!
“Up!” Veronica shouted at Anastasia and she pushed Alexei on. She slung her rifle and ran to the wall. Anastasia was already climbing. Veronica pushed Alexei up the wall and climbed along with him. Within seconds she was on the top of the crumbling ruins. She looked round and saw Anastasia running toward her over the top of the wall. Reunited, they leveled their weapons and looked down.
The old man set down his lantern and dropped his cane. He stretched and raised himself to his full length. He was not an old man at all. He looked like he was no older than thirty five, but his hair was gray. He smiled, baring his teeth. His sharp fangs shone in the small light of the lantern. The door ahead opened and a woman appeared. She looked pale, but she was finely dressed. She was beautiful. Two men, both well-dressed, came to stand beside her.
“Welcome, welcome to my humble abode!” the not-old man said, spreading his arms and gesturing to the entire structure. A shiver went through the group collectively.
“You are welcome to enter my house. Please, do not disturb the rooms that are locked, but feel free to roam around the castle other than that.”
The man began walking forward and suddenly a number of wolves appeared out of the shadows to join him by his side. They swept the square and brought the entire group to the entrance to the castle proper.
Right before he pushed all the vampire hunters into the castle, he turned around and looked up at the trio on the wall. “You can come down, you know. Not like I will harm you. And those pop guns will not do a thing.”
Anastasia brought her rifle to her shoulder. “These shots will. Who are you?”
“I am the vampire of the castle.”
***
The
“old man” led them up a flight of stairs into a round room. Just inside the door, Veronica saw the last of the group being led down another corridor. They went down a big hall, but Veronica, Anastasia and Alexei were being led up those winding stairs. The round room had three doors in it. One was the door they came through, another was open and led to a lavishly furnished bedroom, and the last was locked. The round room had a few windows all around and a big fireplace. There were bookshelves all around the room. In the center of it, there was a round coffee table and a few comfortable chairs. The man sat down in a seat by the fire and placed his elbows on the armrests. He locked his long fingers together and looked over them.
“Sit. Sit down, please.”
Anastasia began to speak in Russian, but the man waved his hand.
“Please, please. Despite the fact that my English is particularly good, I get so very few chances to practice it.”
Veronica scanned him. She thought she had seen fangs in that big smile, but she was not sure now. Maybe a trick of the light? She was reluctant to sit down. But Alexei made up her mind for her. He sat down, crossing his legs underneath him as he placed himself on the chair. He just stared at the man, trying to stare him down.
Anastasia also sat down, a picture of elegance in the way she moved. She had slipped instantly from hunter to princess. It left Veronica standing, and she was not sure she wanted to comply with anything this man said.
“Who are you?”
“I am the local voivode. Vlad Draculea, also known as Vlad Tepes.”
Alexei jumped up in his chair. “You're Dracula?”
The man smiled. “Didn't I just say that?”
“I thought you were dead?” Anastasia asked him.
He smiled pleasantly again. “I nearly was. Thanks to Mr. Abraham van Helsing and his friends. But I was saved at the last moment, so here I am, and so lucky to be entertaining some guests from the New World.”
Veronica sighed.
Well, this is it then. These two are with the count, who is one of the Elders and the head of the Watchers in this part of the world. They are safe and I can go home to California.