Chapter 7: Exorcised
Faced with such wrath as Count Von Krolock radiated, Alfred, half-hidden behind Herbert, inched his way backwards until his back hit the stone wall of the castle. He had never seen anything quite so terrible as the angry count and he wondered at how Herbert was able to stand there so calmly. It seemed the count was trying to roar down the moon and Alfred guessed he might just be strong enough to do it.
"I didn't do it."
Herbert turned his head so quickly to look at Alfred that his long hair, unbound, whipped around his face.
Alfred barely glanced at Herbert. His eyes were fixed on the count and those terrible fangs. It struck him very hard in that moment that during the ball neither the count nor Herbert had bitten him. They were probably still hungry. Hungry and angry and…
"Alfred, dear?" Herbert had turned to face him and clutched his hands in front of him, as if he wanted to reach out for Alfred but was restraining himself. "What did you say?"
"It's not my fault. I didn't do it. I didn't hurt your brother." He felt panic starting to rise. His stomach hurt. "Honest, I just found him."
Herbert's eyes went very wide. "Oh, darling, no…"
"But I did! I was just walking and I saw him and he was just singing his song and I thought he might stay out there when the sun rose and Professor Abronsius said that would be very bad for vampires and even kill them and I couldn't just leave him there and I didn't hurt him!"
With a surprised look on his face, Herbert hastened to reassure Alfred, "No! We wouldn't think that you - "
"You simply found him standing?" Count Von Krolock said, his voice dreadfully calm and soft, but still strong enough to cut through Herbert's words. The count turned towards Alfred and fixed hard, angry eyes on him. "Alone? No else in the area?"
Alfred nodded, frantically. "Yes, sir. I mean, yes, Excellency. I didn't see anyone else around and he didn't seem hurt, just… well." Alfred struggled to find a word to describe Angus. "Like he is now – he's had a funny turn."
Count Von Krolock looked back at Angus. "I am not laughing at this funny turn." He drew in a deep breath through his nose, then looked up at the lightening sky. "Dawn approaches. Inside." With one swift, easy move, Count Von Krolock lifted Angus up onto his shoulder as if he were nothing more than a large sack of flour. Angus, docilely lay there as the count rushed them into the safety of the castle to escape the threatening sun.
Herbert took hold of Alfred's wrist. "You, too. Come on. You should stay here today; father will want to talk to you."
Alfred meant to protest. He wanted to go back to the village. It would even be easier and warmer traveling in the daylight.
Herbert tugged his arm. "It's for the best. Father will want to talk to you about what happened to Angus and if you go back to the village, he'll just go down there and retrieve you. Might as well stay here and save yourself a long, cold walk. Besides, you'll get to meet Sarah, then." Herbert gave Alfred's arm another tug and Alfred let himself be pulled back to the castle.
If the count really would go fetch him as soon as the sun went down, again, then there was no point in running and he had nowhere else to go but the village. It would be nice to be warm, again, and even if they didn't let him have a fire, he would at least be out of the wind. That would be good. Besides, he wasn't feeling terribly well.
They followed the count as quickly as Alfred could go without Herbert actually picking Alfred up and carrying him, which Alfred rather suspected Herbert wanted to do. They didn't stop at just entering the castle. Rather, they raced through the halls and down to the crypt. Alfred had glimpsed the crypt before, but had been too frightened to go down into the darkness. It hadn't even occurred to him, then, that it was a resting place for vampires. In hindsight, that had been a rather silly mistake.
There were coffins, as was to be expected in a crypt, but rather than use one of them, the count gently lowered Angus onto the floor. "More light! I need to see what I'm doing." The count snapped at Herbert, who, with a whispered word to Alfred to stay put, quickly used a lit candle to light two lanterns and a candelabra holding a dozen candles. Soon the crypt was nearly as brightly lit as if it were daylight.
"What's going on?" At the top of the stairs that led up and out of the crypt, Sarah Chagal stood. She looked far more aware than she had the last time Alfred had seen her. Her ornate, red ball gown was gone and replaced with a far simpler dress of brown wool. She started down the steps and when she'd nearly reached the bottom, she very suddenly stopped and sniffed the air. Her eyes widened, then narrowed. She looked around, then looked at Alfred. "I'm hungry."
The idea that he might have to be afraid of the girl he'd gone to rescue hadn't occurred to Alfred until that moment. But she licked her lips and her fingers tightened on the banister of the stairs.
"Of course you're hungry." Herbert went to Sarah and took her hand. He led her across the room to where Alfred stood, but kept himself between the two of them. "But you fed just a little while ago. You don't need to eat."
"But…" Sarah couldn't take her eyes off Alfred.
"No. Now, hush and watch. I think you ought to see this." The three of them stood and watched in silence as the count knelt next to Angus on the stone floor.
Count Von Krolock spoke softly to Angus and looked him all over. When he spoke, he didn't look away from Angus. "Herbert, keep them out of the way." The count then brought his wrist to Angus' mouth right against Angus' lips, but Angus just kept smiling. The count ran his fingers through Angus' dark curls. "You must drink. Angus? My boy? You must drink." When Angus still didn't respond, but started singing, again, the count brought his wrist to his own mouth and, to Alfred's astonishment, bit hard. If it hurt, the count gave no sign of it. With blood freely running from his wrist, the count brought the wrist back to Angus and pressed it against his mouth. At once the singing was stifled. For a moment, Angus seemed to try to sing passed the wrist, but then his voice faded away. His eyes half-closed and he slowly, weakly raised a hand up to rest on the back of the count's wrist.
"Father?" Herbert asked from where he stood next to Alfred.
"It's alright. He's feeding." The count stayed like that for a time, petting Angus' hair and whispering something gently that that Alfred was too far away to hear. After quite a while, Angus' eyes slid closed and his mouth fell away from the count's wrist and his hand fell back to his side. The count straightened his back and sat up. For a very long while, he just sat on his knees, watching Angus. His forehead was furred with through until he finally said, "This must be done, now. I won't allow this to continue."
"Father," Herbert softly asked. "Should they be here?"
"The sun has risen; Sarah must stay here. Alfred," the count finally looked over at them. "You will stay, also. I will have you understand the danger that book is."
Alfred gaped at Angus. "The book did that?"
"The man who stole it from you did it. The spells contained in that book are vile, but they are only ink on paper until they are purposefully used. That Doctor Alibori did this to my eldest. I will know exactly what spell was used when I've investigated." The count put his own bleeding wrist to his mouth and gave the wound a few licks, cleaning it up neatly and, strangely, when he'd finished, Alfred couldn't see even the slightest scratch – the wound had completely healed. "Herbert, I will need you to look after your sister. I'm afraid sorting out Angus' mind may take quite a while."
"Of course." Herbert, still holding tightly to Sarah's hand took her to sit on the bottom step of the wide stair way. It was plenty big enough for the two of them to sit next to each other and have lots of room to spare. Herbert glanced at Alfred with something that seemed almost like shyness. But Alfred knew that couldn't be right and reprimanded himself for being so stupid. Herbert wasn't shy. Herbert said, "Come and sit, won't you? There's plenty of room." And there was. Sarah was small and while Herbert was rather large and broad-shouldered, the stairs were so wide that there was more than enough room for Alfred.
There was no reason not to and he felt a little light-headed, for some reason. So Alfred sat. He kept his hands on his lap and wondered if Herbert would try something, but Herbert only smiled at him. The smile was so lovely that Alfred felt very strangely as if he were being rewarded for being brave enough to sit with Herbert.
Alfred didn't know what Sarah had been like before the ball, of course, but she seemed a sad state at that moment. Her eyes were wide and she sat with her arms wrapped around herself and her knees pulled up to her chest. She blinked very rapidly and seemed tense as a bowstring. Looking closely, Alfred noticed that she was trembling. Herbert put an arm over her shoulder. Sarah instantly cuddled up to Herbert's side and pressed against him as much as she could without actually crawling into his lap.
Count Von Krolock said, "Alfred, I need you to tell me everything you saw and heard when you found Angus in the forest. Every detail."
Naturally, Alfred remembered all the details, though he didn't see why any of it was important. When he finished, the count didn't seem any happier and Alfred shifted around nervously, wishing that he could think of something to please the count.
Professor Abronsius would have been furious if he'd lived to see Alfred worried about a vampire's good opinion, but Alfred found that it did matter what the count thought of him. It mattered more than just being allowed to stay throughout the winter. The count had been kind to Alfred. He hadn't needed to be gentle during the awful ball, he hadn't needed to give Alfred a warm bed or food, he hadn't needed to be at all concerned for Alfred's comfort, but he had and that meant a great deal to Alfred who knew exactly how worthless he was. Even Professor Abronsius had never been so concerned for Alfred. The count had even gone so far as to, when Alfred had first gone up to the castle, wrapped Alfred up in his cloak to keep Alfred warm when he'd hit his head. Surely, someone evil wouldn't be so kind? So, yes, Alfred found that even though he was still afraid of the vampires, he very much wanted to please Count Von Krolock.
The count tapped his lip with his finger, then nodded. "More information would be preferable."
Alfred winced with shame that he couldn't help more.
"Still," the count continued. "It's better than knowing nothing. Alfred, do not interfere no matter what you see. Do you understand?"
"Yes, sir."
Sarah's eyes were trained on Alfred. She reached out to him, but Herbert caught her grasping hand and held it before she could touch Alfred.
When Sarah let out a sad little whimper, Herbert kissed her wrist. "Not now, sister; you already had dinner." Then he apologetically said to Alfred, "Babies always want to eat."
Alfred decided he would stay away from Sarah until she wasn't a baby anymore.
"I will have to go into his mind," the count said, at last, while he looked down at Angus.
Alfred had no idea what that meant, but Herbert nodded while he let Sarah lean against him. He stroked her thick, wavy hair gently, almost absently - a complacent girl with her big brother. They looked so peaceful together that Alfred had the most absurd urge – he wanted a cuddle, too. They looked so comfortable together, despite having known each other for such a short time and despite what was going on in the room. Alfred very suddenly, very strongly, wanted that sort of comfort. It was disturbing. He didn't cuddle. He hadn't had a hug since his mother had died, hadn't even really wanted one. But he was cold and the count looked both scared and angry and Alfred felt sick with guilt – it was all his fault. He really wanted a hug, but couldn't bring himself to ask for one.
Alfred wrapped his arms around himself and gave himself a hug. It was almost as good as a real one.
Count Von Krolock pressed his forehead against Angus'. They stayed like that for a long while, silent and still. Then, Angus' arm twitched. Then his leg. In a moment, his whole body was jerking and writhing. His back suddenly stiffened so hard that his body was bowed with only his shoulders and heels touching the stone floor. His mouth opened, but no sound came out. He stayed that way, a body ridged and pained, and all the while the count stayed on his knees at his son's side, pressing their foreheads together, his eyes closed and utterly still.
Slowly, something began to rise from Angus. It drifted up from his arched body like mist – like a black fog. The thing hovered over the two vampires; it stretched and twisted itself. It shook violently and, frighteningly, Angus began to shake, too.
Sarah's hands clutched at the fabric of Herbert's waistcoat and she buried her face against his shoulder. Herbert watched it all with horrified fascination. And Alfred just wanted to run from the room. There was something vile about that black shadow, something sickening and wrong. He wanted desperately to be far away from it, but he couldn't move. And a very small part of Alfred didn't actually want to run; it shouted at him that to run when everyone else was trying to help, when Angus was in such a bad state, would be downright cowardly.
The shadow above Angus wavered and quivered and, out of the blue, a terrible, unearthly scream filled the room. It was unlike anything Alfred had ever heard. It was pained and angry and it echoed off the walls so violently that it seemed to shake the whole castle.
Alfred pressed his hands against his ears to block out the sound, but it made no difference. He was vaguely aware of an arm around his shoulders and he could hear a girl crying. The screaming went on and on. Alfred could feel his bones quaking.
Through it all, Count Von Krolock didn't move a muscle. He sat near Angus' head, their foreheads pressed together. He still mumbled under his breath, for all appearances he didn't see or hear the terrible shadow.
The screaming grew louder and louder and gave one last furious bellow before it was gone. Like a candle being snuffed out, it was just gone. The shadow had vanished.
Alfred gasped for air and slowly lowered his hands away from his ears.
Still, Count Von Krolock kept whispering to Angus.
"Deep breath," Herbert told Alfred. "It's gone, now."
Obediently, Alfred sucked in a deep breath.
It was his arm that was around Alfred's shoulders but as his hand wasn't wandering and he was intently staring at the count and Angus with a dark frown, Alfred didn't protest the touch. Herbert had been very polite ever since the little incident in the library. Alfred looked passed Herbert and saw Sarah with bloody tears on her cheeks and cuddled close to Herbert's side. She sniffled and didn't look at all eager to release her grip on Herbert's arm. She seemed to have completely forgotten her hunger.
Angus' eyes fluttered open and the vast tension in the room eased. He blinked up at his father and looked confused and shaken.
The count sat up straight and asked, "How do you feel?"
"Like I've been trampled by wild horses. What happened…" And then, to Alfred's surprise, Angus paled. It was quite alarming to see a vampire so afraid that their normal pallor went entirely white. "There was a spirit. A… a shadow thing in the forest."
"I know." Count Von Krolock put a comforting hand on Angus' shoulder. "It's gone, now. Thankfully, I knew what it was and was able to deal with it. I swear, it's gone."
Angus nodded and slowly sat up. "I feel like I've been turned inside out, beaten with a big stick, then turned right side out, again. That shadow…" And Angus suddenly lurched over, turning just in time to vomit all over the rug rather than himself. He retched for several awful moments, dark blood spewing out of his mouth, before he was able to control himself and wiped a shaking hand across his mouth that managed to smear some of the blood across his cheek. He looked from the puddle of regurgitated blood then up to the count. "Sorry."
"I can get a new rug. You need to sleep." Count Von Krolock absently rubbed Angus' back. He then helped Angus to stand and lent him an arm to walk to one of the coffins. Very carefully, the count helped Angus into the coffin. Once Angus was laying down, the count fussed over him for a bit, petting his hair and carefully looking him all over to see if there were any other injuries. When he finished mother-henning Angus, the count sharply turned to Alfred. "Do you understand now why that book is so dangerous?"
"The book did that?" Alfred hadn't even guessed that a book could do any such thing.
"The man who stole it from you used a spell in that book to summon the thing," he spat with disgust. "That hurt my Angus. It is old magic, powerful magic, and it's so carefully kept in the book because some fool long ago decided to record it. No sane, reasonable person would ever want that kind of knowledge. The thing that was summoned, that tried to grab hold of my child," his eyes flickered to Angus who still, from his coffin, watched the count. "That was a jusnu, a demon, of sorts. And it's gone, now, sent back to where it came from."
"But… why?" Alfred asked. "I don't understand the point of it."
"I didn't even see the man, father," Angus spoke up. "Never once caught sight of him."
The count sniffed disdainfully. "I am hardly surprised. It would appear that Alibori called the jusnu and let it loose with instructions to attack anyone who might follow. Thankfully, as a vampire, Angus is made of stern stuff." He gave Angus an approving smile. "I always knew your stubborn nature served a purpose. You were too much for it and it could only confound your mind. However," the count turned to Alfred and walked towards him. "Had you decided to follow the man to retrieve the book, you would be dead now. That thing is meant to kill."
Alfred felt a chill run down his spine like a ghostly finger.
The count, with firm determination on his face, said, "We must find Alibori and get the book away from him before he can do more damage with it. He either didn't think that an innocent person might be killed by what he summoned or he didn't care. Perhaps he is an idiot who doesn't understand the amount of power he is toying with. We must get that book from him."
The count took Sarah from Herbert and walked her to her coffin, small and almost dainty amidst the large coffins that her family slept in. He put her to bed and closed the lid of her coffin, then did the same for Angus.
As the count settled his family, Herbert looked at Alfred and asked, "Are you alright?"
Still a bit stunned by everything that had happened, Alfred nodded. "That was… a demon." Such things weren't supposed to be real. But, then again, vampires weren't supposed to be real, either. "How could he just set it out there to wait for someone? Angus was so close to the village. What if one of the villagers had been out there?"
Herbert gave Alfred a squeeze before removing his arm from Alfred. "Well, luckily it was Angus and even a demon can't damage his thick head too much."
"Herbert, don't," Count Von Krolock said, mild disapproval in his voice. "I won't have this taken lightly. Now, get some sleep. Tomorrow will be busy."
Herbert nodded and obediently went to his coffin on the far side of the room. He winked at Alfred before he pulled closed the lid of his coffin.
Alfred turned to look back at the count and found the count standing no more than a foot away from him. Alfred jumped at the sudden nearness.
"Alfred," the count began, gravely. "Thank you for bringing Angus home." He put both hands on Alfred's shoulders. "I can never thank you enough for what you have done, my boy. Such a good boy. So brave and kind."
Alfred squirmed under the praise.
Despite how he disliked being touched, Alfred found that he wasn't the least bit bothered by the count's. It wasn't a nasty touch. Instead, he found that it stirred a distant memory of when his mother would absently rest her hand on his shoulder. He liked it. It felt warm and safe and he didn't mind the count's touch at all. It did disturb him a bit to find himself comparing the large, powerful Count Von Krolock to his frail little mother, but Alfred decided his mother wouldn't have minded too much and he just wouldn't tell the count.
"What are you two doing out there?" Herbert's sleepy voice called out through the lid of his coffin.
"Go to sleep," the count replied. He opened his mouth to say something to Alfred, but Herbert said,
"But what are you talking about? It is important? I want to know."
The lid of Herbert's coffin began to rise, but Count Von Krolock slapped a hand down on it and kept it closed. "Go to sleep."
"But father…" Herbert whined.
"Go to sleep!"
"Fine." Herbert was quiet after that.
The count managed a smile for Alfred. "He's worried about you. He's a flighty little bird, at times, but he is worried and very sorry that he upset you so much. I do hope you'll be able to forgive him, in time."
Alfred squirmed, again, but not with anything nice. People like Herbert and the count weren't supposed to be concerned for Alfred. It went against everything Alfred had learned in life. "He did apologize."
"As is only proper. How are your bites?" He pushed the sleeve of Alfred shirt up to his elbow and examined one of the bite marks a vampire had left in Alfred's forearm. "They are healing well. In another day they will be completely gone."
"They're sore," Alfred admitted. "But it's not bad. Not really." The one on the sole of his foot bothered him quite a bit, but it hardly seemed worth mentioning. His head still hurt more than a little, but Alfred decided there wasn't much that could be done about that, so he ignored it. Alfred coughed. "I can take much worse. Sir, what happens now?"
"Now, we all rest and later we will find Alibori and I will destroy the book. I will need you with me as you are the only one who knows what this Alibori looks like, but I will keep you safe. I don't like taking Angus and Herbert around this sort of dark magic, but I may need them. As for Sarah… I must decide what to do with her. She is far too young to be exposed to such things but I can't leave her alone, yet." His lips tightening as he considered what was to come. Clearly, he wasn't happy about having his family anywhere near Doctor Alibori or the book, but he felt there was little choice. "That is my concern. You must rest and allow yourself to recover. You have had a good deal of blood loss and a head injury." He called out, "Koukol!"
At once, out of the shadows came the count's hunch-backed servant. He bowed as well as he was able to. It occurred to Alfred that Koukol must have been in the crypt the entire time and managed to stay unnoticed.
"Koukol, see that our young guest is fed and put to bed." He gave Alfred a firm look. "I expect you ready to travel the moment the sunsets." Then he climbed into his coffin and started to close the lid over himself.
"Yes, sir. Er… good night, sir… good day, I mean." Alfred was left standing in silence for a moment. He felt entirely lost. But then Koukol was at his side with a lit candle in hand. The candles and lanterns in the crypt were extinguished and Koukol led Alfred out of the crypt. Relieved to have someone telling him what to do, Alfred obediently hurried after Koukol. The first order of the day was breakfast, for which Alfred was extremely grateful for. He stared at the spread Koukol had laid out on the kitchen table, plain and worn from years of use. There was bread and a pitcher of milk and a jar of jam. There was also a great hunch of bloody meat. Alfred couldn't guess what it was, but the blood collected in the plate the meat rested on like a puddle.
Alfred reached for the bread, only to have Koukol smack his hand. Alfred brought his hand back his chest where he cradled it as if Koukol had hit him with a cudgel.
Koukol spoke softly and slowly, but Alfred found that if he paid attention, Koukol was perfectly understandable. "Meat, first."
Alfred eyed the plate of bloody meat, cautiously. "Shouldn't it be cooked?"
With a careless shrug, Koukol cut a large chunk off the slab of meat. "It's cooked, enough." He stabbed the chunk of meat with a fork and plopped it down on the plate in front of Alfred. "Good for you." He reached over and patted Alfred's cheek with a hand that was bigger than Alfred's whole face. "Gave up a lot of blood."
Alfred flinched at the reminder. "Well… I couldn't run away."
They ate together in a strangely comfortable silence for quite a while. At Koukol's insistence, Alfred did eat the meat provided, though he didn't like that it was nearly raw, he managed to swallow it. He'd been hungry often enough to know that his next meal could be hours or days away. He was not fool enough to turn his nose up at food, bloody or not. When they'd finished eating and Alfred felt as if he might burst with one more mouthful, Alfred helped Koukol clear the table. Koukol washed the dishes and Alfred dried. It was all very comfortable.
Alfred felt sure he shouldn't be so comfortable washing breakfast dishes in a vampire's castle.
"You should stay."
Alfred looked over at Koukol after putting the last of the dishes away. "What?"
"You should stay here. His Excellency looks bad, but he's a good master. Better than most."
"Have you worked here long, then?"
"All of my life. He found me."
"I don't understand."
"His Excellency found me in the mountains, abandoned." Koukol made a gesture at himself. "No mother would want this. He saved me and he kept me. He is a good man."
And Alfred had to admit to himself that the count really wasn't as bad as he might have been. Things could have been a lot worse for someone who stumbled unwittingly into a family of vampires. He would have thought more on that, but his head was starting to feel fuzzy. Like when all the horrible vampires bit him. He was very tired.
Alfred was startled out of his thoughts when Koukol touched his arm. "Come. Time to sleep."
But Alfred didn't want to sleep when there were vampires around. He'd get hurt in his sleep… but Herbert promised to be nice. He'd promised. Hadn't he? And everyone else was already asleep except Koukol and he was nice and Alfred's head really was feeling very poorly. He was tired and cold and started to cough, again. The cough wouldn't stop. He kept coughing until his chest hurt and his head throbbed. Finally, it stopped and, only then did he realize that Koukol was right next to him, gently patting his back. "I'm alright," Alfred said when he'd gotten his breath back.
"You're sick." Koukol shook his head. "Too much time in the snow, too much lost blood. Bed." Like a bully of a nanny, Koukol led Alfred to the same room he'd earlier woken in. Though Alfred just wanted to lay down and sleep, Koukol insisted that Alfred change out of his own clothes and put on a nightshirt. Koukol built up the fire and ushered Alfred into bed. "You're sick," Koukol muttered, pressing a hand to Alfred's forehead. "No fever, yet."
"I'm alright."
But Koukol didn't listen. He pulled the blankets over Alfred and actually tucked him in, completely ignoring Alfred's protests that he was a grown-up and didn't need to be tucked in. Alfred didn't really mind.
Alfred didn't fall asleep at once. Even after Koukol left the room and Alfred was alone in the silence, he couldn't fall asleep. The silence only gave him a chance to think and the more he thought the more guilty he felt.
He had been the one to bring the book to the castle and he had led Doctor Alibori straight to the castle. Therefore, it was his fault that Angus had gotten hurt. If Alfred had been stronger or faster or smarter, Doctor Alibori wouldn't have gotten the book away from him and he would have shown the book to the count who would have know what it was and disposed of it before anyone got hurt. It was all Alfred's fault.
Though he still didn't feel terribly well, Alfred got out of bed. He found his clothes by the fire. They were pleasantly warm and dry. He must have lost track of time for them to have dried so thoroughly. A glance out of the window told him that the day was more than half-over. Alfred dressed and was nearly out the door before he remembered that he ought to put his shoes on.
There was no reason, Alfred told himself as he walked through the castle gates and out into the surrounding, snowy forest, that anyone else should get hurt because of his mistake. He would get the book and the count's family could stay in their castle. No one would get hurt and the count would be so pleased – maybe even proud! - when Alfred was able to hand him the terrible book.
Alfred, sick and tired and sore all over, was quite pleased with himself as he stumbled alone into the mountains.
To be continued…
