by Douglas Rees
"Uh . . . right," I agreed, feeling my face get hot.
A couple of days later, the chart came in the mail. It was a beautiful wheel covered with those neat signs astrologers use. At the top it said Natal Chart for Ileana An-tonescu in flowing script. I pasted it onto the last page of Ileana's book and was ready for the party.
SLIGHTLY HEROIC
We Came. Exactly at two o'clock, my dad dropped me off in front of the Antonescus' house. It was the first time I'd seen it. It was huge, sort of like the White House, but bigger. It had columns all across the front and a long sloping lawn, which was all dead grass and mud now. The walk that led up to it was wide enough for a truck.
There were jenti kids coming from every direction. The street was full of the fancy, old-fashioned cars dropping them off. Every one of the kids looked at me through their dark glasses like they wondered who had let the pig loose in the yard.
I hung around by the gates—Ileana's house had gates, of course—hoping Justin would show up so that we
could go in together. The jenti went past me, gave me their escaped-pig look, and passed on in silence. I could hear music coming from inside the house. Violins, playing something classical.
Gregor arrived with his gang. When they saw me, he motioned for them to wait and came over to me.
"What are you doing here?" he growled. "You cannot be invited."
I didn't say anything. I just looked him up and down like I thought his mother had dressed him funny.
"Show me your invitation!" he demanded.
"Show me yours. Or are you here to help with the dishes?"
Gregor loomed over me. "Gadje, whatever Ileana may say, you do not belong here. If you go into that house, then whether you are marked or not, I will find a way to be revenged."
I held out my hand and studied my nails. "Look at that. Sheer terror," I said.
Gregor clenched his fist and shook it in my face. He really did. Then he spun around and went back to his friends. They marched past the gate to the house.
I stood there while the lines of jenti tapered off and the street emptied out. As far as I could tell, no other gadje had been invited. If they had been, they hadn't shown up. And still there was no sign of Justin.
The wind was cold. Finally it pushed me inside.
You know those movies where the crazy family in the old house has a nine-foot-tall butler who looks like Frankenstein's monster? The Antonescus' butler was only seven feet tall and looked like Dracula.
"Welcome, young sir. I am Ignatz. May I have your name?" He sort of purred, if tigers purr.
"Cody Elliot," I told him.
While we were talking, someone was taking my present from me and someone else was helping me off with my coat.
"Ah, Master Elliot. There are particular instructions concerning you. This is your first visit to the Antones-cus', is it not? Szasz, convey Master Elliot to the ballroom."
Of course Ileana's house would have a ballroom. It was probably right over the indoor polo field.
Szasz, who did look like Frankenstein's monster, led me down a long hall and into a sort of courtyard—I know, houses don't have courtyards, but that's what this was— and up a sweeping staircase. I had never seen a sweeping staircase before, but there it was, like something in one of Mom and Dad's old movies. It rose in a long, graceful curve like it wanted to fly and stopped at the second floor. There were double doors standing open there, and the music I had heard was coming through them.
When I walked into the ballroom, all the jenti turned and looked at me. Then they turned their backs. I just stood there for a minute, not daring to go farther into the room and not knowing what I was supposed to do.
Then Ileana came sailing through the crowd toward me with her hand held out. She was wearing a beautiful white dress and one dark red rose over her heart.
"So you have come at last," she said. "I have been waiting for you."
"I was hanging around out front," I explained. "I kind of wanted to come in with Justin."
"He will not be able to come. He is ill," Ileana said, and her face fell. "It is good you came in."
"What's the matter?" I asked.
"He did not say," she said sadly. "Come, I must introduce you to some people." Then she took me by the arm and led me over to her parents. "Papa, you will remember Cody Elliot. Mama, this is the boy who helped Justin that day."
"It's very good to see you again," Mr. Antonescu said, shaking my hand. "I've heard fine things from Ileana about your writing."
Why did he have to bring that up?
Mrs. Antonescu smiled. She looked like Ileana, small and very beautiful.
"Ah, the young hero," she said in a strong jenti accent.
"And how are you finding Vlad Dracul?" Mr. Antonescu asked me.
"Oh, uh, different," I said. "Very different."
"Yes. I suppose it is." Mr. Antonescu smiled. "But I wonder if you are enjoying it there."
I could have said something polite, but Mr. Antonescu didn't seem like the kind of guy to be fooled by politeness.
"There's no law that says you have to enjoy school," I said. "I like Ileana and Justin and the natatorium when I'm alone in the pool. The rest you can keep."
Mr. Antonescu turned to Ileana. "A good, honest answer," he said. "Refreshing, especially in my profession, to hear one like it. Thank you."
I had the feeling I'd failed some kind of test.
"Come," said Ileana. "I will show you where you will be sitting."
There were long tables at one end of the room. I saw that they had little place cards by every plate.
At the far end of the room was one table turned at a right angle to all the others. It was set up on a dais, and there were chairs along only one side of it, so they faced everyone else in the room.
"This will be yours," Ileana said.
My seat was right by hers.
"Now I must introduce you to some of my other friends," Ileana said.
She took me over to a couple of girls.
"Marie and Erzabet, this is Cody Elliot," she said. "Cody, these are Marie and Erzabet Haraszthy. They are also at our table."
"How do you do," they purred.
"I must ask you to excuse me," Ileana said. "There are others to whom I must say hello."
The three of us stood there, smiling the way people do when they don't know what else to do. Actually, they were smiling down on me. Marie, the shorter one, was half a head taller than I was. Erzabet was bigger than that.
"So, do you go to Vlad?" I asked Erzabet's shoulder.
"Vlad?" she said carefully, like she wasn't used to speaking English. "No. No, we are not from the United States."
"We are true Transylvanians," Marie answered, smiling at me like I was the best-looking sandwich she'd ever seen.
"Though, to be sure, our families have lived in Paris for many years," Erzabet went on. "Because of the Communists in Hungary and Romania, it was necessary. Now we stay because—well, because it is Paris."
"Though we spend part of each year in—excuse me, on—the ancestral lands," Marie said. "It is necessary to feel connected to one's place, don't you agree?"
"Actually, yeah," I said. "I'm from California and I miss it a lot."
"A gadje from California," Erzabet said. "That is something I have never met before."
Marie put her hand on my arm.
"You must explain to us how you know our Ileana," she said.
I wasn't going to tell these girls about Illyria. They acted like they were fifteen going on thirty-seven. Sophisticated, I mean.
"We're classmates," I said. "Ileana and Justin—do you know Justin Warrener, by the way?—and I. We hang out together a lot."
'Ah. You hang out," Erzabet said, like I had said something funny and she was trying not to laugh.
"How pleasant it must be to hang out," Marie said. "We have no opportunity to do so at home."
"We must always be at doing something in Europe," Erzabet said. "It is expe
cted."
"They keep us pretty busy at Vlad, too," I said.
"But still, you find time to hang out," Marie said.
"After school," I said.
Marie and Erzabet gave each other one of those mysterious grins that girls share. The ones that make boys
feel like toads. Then they turned their beautiful, glowing eyes on me like I was a joke they didn't quite get.
"So, are you over here for long?" I asked, trying to fill up the silence.
"No. We are returning to Europe quite soon," Erzabet said. "We only came because of the importance of Ileana's birthday."
"You come over every year for her birthday?" I asked.
"Hardly," Marie said. "As you must know, the fifteenth year is most important among us."
"I hadn't heard," I said.
"You will have observed the rose she wears," Erzabet said. "It means she is a woman now."
"No more a little girl in any respect," Marie said.
"In Europe she would already know who her husband was going to be," Erzabet said. "But here . . ." She waved one hand like she was brushing something away.
"Here, even the jenti do not mature as they should," Marie said. "And that is a pity for her, given who she is—"
"But it is not for us to be critical," Erzabet interrupted.
"No, certainly not," Marie said.
"Things are different in America," Erzabet said. "In Europe we would never see a gadje at such a ceremony as this." And she smiled at me again.
It made me mad, that smile.
"Yeah," I said. "You know what America's like. We'll let anybody in. Even vampires. 'Scuse me." I smiled back and left.
Charming people at this party. Where was Justin when I needed him?
Dad had given me his cell phone so that I could call for a ride home when I needed it. I went out onto the landing and dialed Justin's number.
"Hello?" I recognized Mrs. Warrener's beautiful voice.
"Mrs. Warrener, it's Cody Elliot," I said. "I was just wondering how Justin is."
"Justin will be well in a day or two," she said, sounding sad. She paused. "It's only that our blood supply ran out a little early this month. I don't believe Justin ever told you, but he needs somewhat more than the average, and this month—he just had to use up what we had."
I heard her sob and stop herself.
"How are you feeling, Mrs. Warrener?" I asked.
"Oh, I'm quite well, thank you. I won't need to—to drink for a few days. By then, we'll have some money in the house again."
"Could I speak to Justin, please?" I said.
"One moment."
"Hello," Justin whispered.
"Hey, man. I'm at Ileana's party and everyone's looking at me like I'm on the menu," I said. "I don't even know anyone here but Ileana and Gregor and his gang. Help."
"I can't come, you know that," he said bitterly. "My mother explained why."
"But if you got some—some people juice, could you make it?" I asked.
Justin sighed. "It's the only place I want to be."
"Then why don't I just tell Ileana to send over a gallon? They must have vats of it here."
There was a long, long silence on the other end of the line.
Finally Justin said, "Can't do that. Can't ask."
"What is it, some kind of rule you guys have against sharing?"
"No," Justin said after a minute. "It's not a jenti thing. It's an old New England thing. It's a me thing. We . . . I... just can't ask her, that's all."
Inside my head, I said some really choice things about Justin and his damned pride. I almost said, "Okay, then," and hung up. Then I thought about sitting in that dining room full of Erzabets and Maries, and instead I said, "Get ready. I'm coming over."
"Stay at the party," Justin whispered. "Ileana wants you there."
"She wants you here," I said. "So I'm coming over to give you a drink. And you're not asking me, I'm telling you."
Man, I sounded brave. A lot braver than I felt.
"No! You're my friend. And Ileana's marked you." I heard the phone making weird little thumping sounds. Justin had dropped it.
"I'll ask her nicely," I said. "I want you sitting up and ready to party when I get there."
I couldn't believe I was doing this. My head was spinning with fear. But I needed him as much as he needed me.
I went back in and found Ileana.
"I know what's wrong with Justin," I said. "I can get him here, but I need your permission to do something."
"What?"
"You have to let me . . . give him a drink of your private stock," I said.
Ileana's golden eyes got big. Then she smiled like the sun coming up.
/ must be in love. Even her canines look cute. "You would do this for him? You would bring my friend to me?" she said, putting her hand on my arm.
"If you say I can. And if somebody can give me a lift," I said.
She said something to me in vampire, which I didn't understand a word of, but I liked the way she said it, a lot. Then she spoke to one of the servants.
He led me quickly through the house, down into the kitchens, and out into a heated garage the size of an airplane hangar. A chauffeur appeared out of nowhere and opened the door of a limo for me.
"You know where we're going?" I asked him.
"Indeed, sir," he said, and he clicked his heels together.
Anyway, we were at Justin's in twenty minutes.
"Can you wait?" I asked.
"Certainly, sir, as long as it takes. I am at your service."
I went up and knocked on the door. I was all set to say something funny to cover my nervousness, but when I saw Mrs. Warrener's face, I couldn't.
"He's waiting for you," she said.
Justin was sitting up in a chair with most of his tux on. The jacket was hanging on the door and his sleeve was rolled up. He tried to raise his head when I came in, but he couldn't.
There were tubes and needles on a little table beside him and a chair for me.
I took off my jacket, sat down, and rolled up my sleeve.
"I hope you know I like you," I said. "I hate needles." "There's the good old-fashioned way if you'd rather," he gasped.
"Needle," I said.
Mrs. Warrener cleaned my arm with alcohol and stuck the needle in like she was giving me a kiss. She gave me a rubber thing to hold on to and said to keep the pressure in my fist constant.
I'm making it sound like a big deal, but it didn't feel like anything, really. Apart from the dizzy, scared part, which I was doing to myself.
But it was something to Justin. He gasped like a drowning man coming back to life. He threw back his head, and I saw his fangs. One leg trembled. Then, as my blood began to move through him, the fangs got shorter and shorter and the trembling in his leg stopped.
Actually, it was very ugly. No wonder the jenti have the reputation they do.
In a few minutes, Justin shook his head like he'd been knocked out and was coming back to consciousness. Then he smiled at me.
"That's the second time you've done the nicest thing for me anyone's ever done," he said.
"You can pay me back by going to that damn party with me," I said. "The limo's waiting."
Mrs. Warrener took away the needles and things and I rolled down my sleeve.
"You'd better rest a little, Cody," she said. "I think you may be a bit light-headed. Let me get you some chocolate cookies."
"I'm fine," I said, standing up and falling over backward with my feet in the air.
They put me on a couch, and Justin and Mrs. War-rener sat beside me. She was looking worried; he was smiling.
"Okay, I'll have those cookies," I said.
I sat up, and after about half a bag, I felt better.
"By the way," Justin said. "What did Ileana say when you told her you wanted to do this for me?"
"Something in jenti. Don't ask me what."
"I'll bet I know what she said." And he repeated it.
&n
bsp; "Yeah, that was it," I said. "How did you know?"
"It's just something I picked up from her when we were kids," he said. "It's a blessing: 'Fly home straight and safe/ Come on, let's party."
HAPPY BIRTHDAY, PRINCESS
When We Went back out to the car, the chauffeur opened the door, bowed, and clicked his heels again.
"Guy really gets into it," I said as we settled back into the seat.
"He should," Justin said. "You're somebody."
We walked back into the ballroom just before they started to serve dessert. There must have been more than two hundred people who lifted their heads and stared at us as we stood in the doorway. There had been the sounds of music and talking as we came up the stairs, but now the room was absolutely silent.
"Uh-oh, we're late," I whispered.
Mr. Antonescu got up from his place and came over to us.
"How are you boys?" he asked. "Are you all right, both of you?"
"I am now," Justin said.
"Sure," I said.
Mr. Antonescu guided us up to the head table. Ileana was seated in the center, with Gregor beside her and her mother next to him. The chairs on the other side of her were empty.
"Oh, goody, we get to eat with Gregor," I whispered.
"Oh, yeah, couldn't not seat him here," Justin said. "He's her cousin."
As we crossed the room, Ileana stood up. She said a few words in jenti, and everybody else stood up, too—even Gregor, who got up last of all, looking like a yard dog on a short chain. Mr. Antonescu pulled our chairs out for us. Still nobody in the room said a word.
Justin and I stood there with a whole room of jenti staring at us, and, from the looks on their faces, they didn't know any more about what was going on than I did.
Then Ileana whispered, "Be seated, sir," and I realized she meant me.
So I sat down, and she sat down, and the whole room sat down.
"Justin, you are quite well?" Ileana said across me.
Justin's answer was a grin, and a sign he made with two fingers. He crooked them like hooks and made a little grabbing motion downward.
Ileana put her napkin to her face and laughed silently into it. Her shoulders shook.
"What's so funny?" I demanded.
"Nothing," Justin said. "I just told her how okay I was."
