Lord of the Vampires

by Jeanne Kalogridis

I wasted no time, but pulled on my dressing-robe and followed John. By then, both Arthur and Quincey (who, I suspect, were too restless to sleep) had risen and the whole lot of us made our way to the Harkers’ bedchamber.

  The gaslight was burning bright, and Madam Mina was sitting upon a love seat in her dressing-gown, her long dark hair falling in waves upon her shoulders. Jonathan sat beside her, holding her hand in both of his with a solicitous air; his demeanour, too, was cheerful and excited, but his eyes were anxious. At the sight of me she smiled, looking more her old self than she had in many a day; but the smile faded almost at once as she said, with an air both businesslike and excited:

  “You must hypnotise me at once, Doctor! Don’t ask me how, but I know that I am privy to information about Vlad which can help us—”

  Before she finished speaking, I lifted a hand, and bade her fix her gaze upon it—more for the sake of the others watching than Madam Mina. I moved my hand this way and that, for show, but in the end, it was a mere glance into her eyes that closed them and sent her deep into trance.

  “Where are you?” I asked.

  A crease appeared in her smooth forehead, and her head moved languidly from side to side as if she were shaking it in refusal. “I don’t know.… It’s dark, very dark, and still as death.…”

  “What do you hear?”

  Here she tilted her head, as though listening. “The lapping of waves … footsteps overhead, and men talking. The creaking of a chain, and the tinkling of metal.…”

  A ship, I realised, and shared a triumphant glance with my three friends. Fear of Elisabeth, perhaps—or even, dare we think, fear of us and our determination, now that he was weaker—had driven him from the country!

  Inspiration filled me. Leaving Madam Mina entranced, sitting quietly, I turned at once to Jonathan—and, without hesitating, put him at once into a deep trance, then signalled John to step forward and put his hands over his ears, lest Elisabeth should be made privy to any more of the information we were seeking. Quincey and Arthur looked a bit scandalised at first, but relaxed as they realised the necessity for it; in fact, both offered up handkerchiefs to John, which he wadded up and pressed against Harker’s ears, to better muffle Mina’s murmured replies.

  That done, I turned back to my first patient and commanded, “Tell me your thoughts.”

  “To the first return,” she intoned, “and the castle deep within the forest.”

  Arthur dashed about the room, found a piece of paper, and scribbled it down.

  “Where is the key?” I continued.

  “The first? Lying cold against my heart. The second, at my home—though where, I cannot say.”

  She fell silent then, and would say no more; I motioned for Quincey to lift the blind, which revealed the first pinkish light of dawn.

  Immediately I turned towards Jonathan; John at once released his hands so that I could ask the entranced man:

  “Where are you?”

  “I follow.”

  “Whom do you follow? Van Helsing or Vlad?”

  At that, he turned his face stubbornly away, like a spoiled child who refuses his supper; I tried a different approach.

  “What do you see? What do you hear?”

  A grimace of the most vicious exasperation came over him. With eyelids still lowered, but aflutter, he growled in a low but distinctively feminine voice, “Look here, Van Helsing! You are a stupid bastard, indeed, to tangle with me. I’ll see you dead—if not with these hands, then a pair of others!”

  At once he leapt up from the chair and ran to the bed. From beneath the mattress, he pulled the fearsome kukri knife and ran towards me with it.

  I knew now, without doubt, that Arminius’ talisman would keep him at bay—but my confidence in it was not total. While it might hold Harker’s person an arm’s length from my own, the kukri knife could reach much farther—and it was no respecter of talismans or magical charges. Only the presence of John, Arthur, and Quincey saved me, for they rushed him from the back and sides, and caught the arm hoisting the knife. It took the bone-crushing grip of three strong men upon his wrist before he let go the weapon with a howl; Seward, much accustomed to dealing with violent outbursts, soon had him back in his chair and pinned fast.

  Of a sudden, he relaxed completely, sagging. I released him from the trance quickly, then watched as John slowly, carefully, eased his grip.

  Jonathan opened his eyes and blinked in confusion for some seconds; then looked over at his hypnotised wife with avid interest and concern, as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

  I picked up the cue and brought Mina out of her trance, as well; she was bright and cheerful, but completely unaware of what she had said or what else had transpired. So we left the Harkers, and told them both to rest well, and not hurry to breakfast. They both were clearly exhausted, and took our advice gratefully.

  Whilst the Harkers were sleeping, the rest of us discussed the situation. Dracula was on a sailing ship weighing anchor somewhere in the Port of London—this we all agreed was a logical assumption, given Madam Mina’s report. But whither was it bound?

  There were hundreds of ships weighing anchor in London on any given day, and at first glance the task seemed hopeless. But Arthur pulled the scrap of paper from his pocket and read it to us:

  “To the first return, and the castle deep within the forest.”

  “The ‘castle deep within the forest’ sounds like Castle Dracula to me,” John said. “After all, didn’t Mina say that the second key was at ‘home’?”

  The other two men nodded agreement, and Quincey said, “It has to be. What else can you make of ‘to the first return’ except ‘return to the first line’? And the first line talks about Transylvania.”

  So it was agreed: We would try to discover which ships had set sail yesterday for the Black Sea, the most logical route and the way by which the Impaler had first come. Madam Mina’s description of the sounds indicated a sailing ship—too small to be listed in the Times. Fortunately, Arthur knew that at Lloyd’s we would find a listing of all ships that had set sail.

  We went there at once—without disturbing the Harkers, especially as we wished to avoid any further encounters with Jonathan. There we learned that only one ship had set sail for the Black Sea on 3 October—the Czarina Catherine, bound for the port of Varna.

  She had sailed from Doolittle’s Wharf, our next destination, where we learned from the manager that a tall, very strange pale man had come at five o’clock yesterday afternoon, and insisted that a box be loaded onto the ship.

  There can be no doubt: He is headed for home!

  17

  The Diary of

  Abraham Van Helsing

  15 OCTOBER, NIGHT. Left London the morning of 12 October and arrived via the Orient Express in Varna this afternoon, after travelling day and night. Madam Mina continues to give the same report at every sunrise: waves lapping, darkness.

  After much debate, we decided to let Jonathan come with us. It would have been cruel not to permit him to come, since we were taking his wife (who has been of great use thus far). We remain ever-vigilant around him, and wear our talismans at all times, as my death would be most convenient for Elisabeth. It would cause Vlad’s immediate destruction, and she would have no more worry from us; she could merely meet the ship when it docks, and retrieve the first key from Vlad’s pitiful remains.

  According to Zsuzsanna, the fact that Elisabeth is nearby awaiting an opportunity to attack, means that she has not seen the fifth line; she needs the first key in order to read it! Apparently, after Vlad discovered the first key and read the fifth line, it disappeared when Elisabeth stole the manuscript. This is good news, for it means she will not rush to Vlad’s castle ahead of him (and us). No, she follows us (or rather, Harker) because we follow Vlad. But her proximity is not the best news for me; only Arminius’ talisman upon my person—even when I bathe—protects me. (Thank God, it is still strong enough to repel her!) Another hopeful piece of news: Zsuzsanna
says that when she travelled with Elisabeth to London, she noticed that, despite her abilities to move about freely during the day, she was still limited by the slack of the tide. Knowing this—and knowing that when Vlad was at his most powerful, he, too, was still restricted by flowing water (evidenced by his decision to come to London by boat, and, Zsuzsanna says, the route he chose as bat when she followed him one night to Hillingham)—we can posit that Elisabeth is still so restricted.

  I have finally pressed one of Arminius’ crucifixes upon Madam Mina; I explained that it was a “specially blessed” piece designed to ward off the vampire, and would protect her more securely than her own little golden cross. She now wears both; I suspect it has had more than a little effect upon her and Jonathan’s private life.…

  As for Zsuzsanna and Arkady, they have secretly accompanied us the entire way, and serve as our “spies.” They will be of much use to us if and when we find it necessary to continue on to the castle. However, before we departed for Varna, Zsuzsanna announced that she had broken off all psychical contact with Harker—this so Elisabeth has no means of learning what our little band is up to. With that assurance, we have taken her into our confidence regarding the fifth line, and our plan for dispatching Vlad and obtaining guardianship of the first key.

  I still find it difficult to trust her; were it not for Arkady, I do not think I would even deal with her. So she has come to her senses and is filled with regret—am I to pity her? She has cost me my wife and son. I do my best to be civil to her, for my father’s sake. Beyond that, I owe her nothing.

  Arthur continues to put his lordly title to good use on our behalf. He has convinced the shipper of Vlad’s box that it contains something stolen from His Lordship’s friend; we now have surreptitious permission from them to board the ship when it docks and open the chest—at our own risk.

  29 OCTOBER, NIGHT. After an agony of waiting—day after day of sitting, reading, contemplating, conversing, all of us now obsessed with putting an end to this affair—Arthur received a telegram from Lloyd’s yesterday, saying that the Czarina had entered Galatz at one o’clock, 28 October.

  Galatz—more than one hundred fifty miles to the north! We had languished in Varna thirteen days, waiting restlessly, while the Impaler laughed at us all!

  Somehow, Madam Mina’s thoughts revealed to Dracula our presence in Varna; now he has cut her off from his own plans. Zsuzsanna advises me that Vlad cannot do so without also losing access to Madam Mina’s thoughts as well (just as she, Zsuzsanna, no longer has access to Jonathan Harker’s thoughts), and Arkady confirms this. For the time, we are free to use Mina’s great intelligence to assist us without revealing to Vlad our strategy.

  I write this on the train to Galatz.

  30 OCTOBER. To-day we set foot upon the Czarina Catherine at last. As feared, we had come too late; the box had already been taken, but we managed to speak with the captain, an amicable and forthcoming Scotsman. The box, he said, had caused such consternation among his Roumanian crew that it would have been thrown overboard were it not for his intervention. He cheerfully produced the receipt, which showed that it had been recovered by an Immanuel Hildesheim, Burgen-strasse 16.

  Blessedly, Hildesheim was in his office and, after a bit of baksheesh, directed us to a Petrof Skinsky, a businessman involved in shipping from upriver to the port. Hildesheim had turned the box over to Skinsky—who, unfortunately, we could not find at his address. As we were leaving, however, one of his neighbours came running out of a house, crying that Skinsky had been found murdered, with his throat torn out.

  When we returned home this evening, discouraged, Madam Mina looked over our notes, and in her logical, precise manner wrote down a series of deductions concerning Vlad’s whereabouts. She then read them to us, and I summarise them here:

  Since Vlad had chosen Skinsky as agent, it only makes sense that he arranged to have the box shipped upriver, such being Skinsky’s primary business.

  Now, the Danube meets two rivers leading to Transylvania, the Pruth and the Sereth; of these, only the Sereth flows into the Bistritsa River—which runs near the Borgo Pass!

  Here is our plan: Arthur will obtain a steam launch, and he and Jonathan will follow the vampire by boat. (In secrecy, we agreed that Harker would not travel with me, as I would be too imperiled; Lord Godalming is less at risk, and knows to take precautions around him. At any rate, he will also have Arkady’s invisible presence to protect him.) Quincey and John will pursue on horseback along the riverbank, in case Vlad makes a sudden decision to come ashore, whilst Madam Mina and I take the train to Veresti, and from there travel by land directly to the castle.

  Our hope is that Elisabeth will not follow myself and Mina to the castle (nor Zsuzsanna, who will guide us through the forest, and knows Vlad’s lair best of all). As long as Elisabeth does not possess the first key, and thus no knowledge of the fifth line, she will stay close to Vlad, with the intent of destroying him and obtaining the second key.

  Once we dispatch the Impaler, however, the question arises: How shall we then destroy her, who is so powerful?

  Arminius, be not far!

  18

  Dr. Seward’s Diary

  5 NOVEMBER. Six days riding, in falling snow and bitter cold—and always with a faint sense that behind us, just beyond my peripheral eyesight, follows a great darkness, that darkly glittering indigo that I have come to dread. Quince knows it, too, for late last night when we made camp and were sitting round the fire, he said softly: “Can you feel it, Jack?”

  I nodded, and as quietly as I could said, “Elisabeth.”

  At this he gave silent assent, and we have spoken no more of it. It means the professor’s assumption is right; she is not so powerful yet that she can travel upon the river, and board Dracula’s boat whenever she lists. I am glad she chose to follow us, and not the professor. That was my greatest concern, that she would pursue and kill him, then board the ship and remove the key from a box filled with Vlad’s rotting remains. Perhaps she fears that we would obtain the key before her, and with our talismans keep her at bay forever.

  She is wise to do so.

  Just after dawn now—a grey sky, lightly falling snow. I woke to Quince’s hand upon my shoulder, and the distant sight of the tsigani’s big leiter-wagon, flanked by a small army of gypsies, hurrying away from the shore. Quince has the horses ready now: we follow!

  The Diary of

  Abraham Van Helsing

  5 NOVEMBER, MORNING. In Veresti, I procured a carriage and a fine team of horses, and enough provisions to last us a minimum of ten days. With our blankets and fur wraps, Madam Mina and I were quite comfortable, and took turns driving whilst the other slept; I sensed Zsuzsanna following at a respectable distance, lest she frighten the horses. Travelling day and night with a few stops to refresh the animals, we reached the Borgo Pass by dawn, 3 November.

  By that time, Madam Mina was becoming more vampiric, sleeping during the day and becoming lively at night, and giving up altogether her little diary.

  By yesterday, we had reached the perimeters of Vlad’s castle—though we camped a slight distance away. I would not take Madam Mina inside, for the closer she drew to it, the more she fell under its spell; thus, whilst she rested, I inscribed round her a magical circle, and sealed it with the Host. This she could not cross, even when I asked her to do so, so I was satisfied as to her safety therein.

  Last night it was that three vampire children—two boys, and a little girl—appeared to us; I remembered Jonathan’s diary, and knew they must be the vile progeny of Zsuzsanna and Elisabeth. (No sign of Zsuzsanna at the time; perhaps she became distraught at the sight of them, or perhaps she was, in response to desperate need, out hunting for more sustenance.) Outside the circle, in the fire’s orange glow, they took form—beautiful, sweet, alluring, and possessed of a grotesque innocence. Madam Mina and I were safely ensconced within our circle, and there we remained. I could not bear to look at them, thinking of my little Jan; I looked inste
ad at Mina’s face, and was deeply relieved to find there horror and disgust.

  At dawn to-day, I rose, leaving Madam Mina trapped and protected within the circle, and headed for the castle. (Where Zsuzsanna was, she had not said, though we had agreed that she would serve as scout, to alert us when Dracula and Elisabeth approached. The cold morning air was peculiarly electric; this was the day, I knew. This was the day.…)

  It was a sad, sad duty that lay before me, in the Impaler’s lair; I had been inside this castle two decades earlier—once, in a failed and tragic attempt to rescue my adoptive brother; another time, to murder the foul creature that my poor little Jan had become. Each dark stone, each decay-scented room, was laden with anguished memories.

  Even so, I had learned many years before, when Arminius taught me the painful art of vampire-hunting, to harden my heart against emotion and approach the task with the coolest of heads. This I did when I found the lair of the three children—two of them nestled together, sweetly asleep in the same overlarge coffin. No pity did I have; not until I had wielded stake and knife, and saw their immortal, gleaming bodies pass into merely mortal remains. Only then did I weep for them and their mothers and fathers.

  And when I had mourned them, and whispered over their resting-places a prayer for the dead as I placed in each coffin a piece of the Host, I called to mind the fifth line:

  To the first return, and the castle deep within the forest.

  Here I was, within the castle, but where should I begin to look for the second key? I wandered a time through each room—Vlad’s vast throne room, with its Theatre of Death, and the inner keep wherein rested his great, lordly coffin. This I sealed with a portion of the Host. And again I roamed, examining each item in each room, looking for clues, for places where something may have been buried. I spared no one place, not even the dreadful catacombs of earth deep beneath the castle—more horrible to me even than the Theatre of Death, for more had met death down in that evil cellar, and more had suffered there a long imprisonment. And so many hundreds—perhaps thousands—are buried there that I could hear their bones still crying out in agony.