34. STORY
The seats were three to a row - Edythe was sitting on my right; Jules my left. The dimming light of the setting sun slanted in through the open plane window and reaching a hand over Edythe's chest, I closed the sliding plastic blind completely shut so the light wouldn't get into her eyes nor bounce off her diamond skin, thinking about how we were in enough trouble as it is already and worried someone else on the plane might see something they shouldn't. I mean, there was just so much working against us heading into our little meeting with the Volturi – for one thing, they weren't going to be happy to know that I was still human. For another… well, that one's pretty obvious. My eyes drifted down the front of Edythe's white turtleneck to the place where her jacket parted. There was definitely no way we could hide that from them now. I thought of how it was going to be, what we were going to say. And then I thought about Sulpicia's stolen gift of tactile telepathy - something Edythe brought up when she first showed me that painting of the Volturi in Carine's room - and I frowned. It was going to be like telling the whole vampire world that you weren't careful, and I hated to basically put my wife on trial for something private like that, she'd already gotten slammed for it on all sides by both humans and vampires alike, just for different reasons on each end of that spectrum. It was all my fault. I took from the canvas carry-on bag at my feet a large blue blanket and threw it over her, instinctively pulling the plush fabric up over her stomach and tucking it under her neck remembering it was still wintertime, all the while wishing there was more – so much more – that I could do for my wife.
"Are you comfortable?" It almost didn't sound like a question the way I said it; more like a plea on my part. I mean, it was the least I could do. I had my arms out around her, ready to tuck a pillow behind her back, pull the blanket tighter over her body, get her something to eat or drink. Anything that she wanted; anything that she could possibly ever need from me.
"I feel just fine, thank you." She brought her hand up to my face and stroked my cheek, showing me a teeny smile.
"Are you sure?" She nodded at my question and I pulled away very slowly, my eyes still locked on hers. Just as my head was about to touch down on the cushion of the headrest though, her little hand shot out from the blanket and grabbed hold of my wrist and I came right back around like a boomerang, ready to do literally anything for her.
"Actually… humor me?" She bit her lip, looking down then up almost shyly. I could guess from the way her hands came to rest on my shoulders and the way her big, beautiful doe eyes peered up at me from beneath the fringe of her dark eyelashes what exactly she wanted from me - to hold her, that is - and I smiled. Did she really have to ask? She leaned into me and I put my arm behind her head, slipping my free hand over her other hand which was touching her chest now, and cradled her in my arms. Her legs brought themselves up onto the plane seat and she leaned on my chest, her arms wrapped tight around me with the top of her head tucked right in below my chin. She let out a tiny laugh and sighed.
"He loves the sound of your heart beating." she reminded me. "And your warmth."
"Yeah, it's just him, right?"
"Exactly right."
"Whatever you say." I smirked, shrugging.
"Well, I suppose naturally he may have gotten that from his mother, but you didn't hear it from me." She pressed her thumb and pointer finger together and moved them over her lips like she was zipping them up then let out a peal of her silvery laughter. I lost myself in that exquisite sound, committing it to memory and soon fell asleep with her in my arms, dreaming about her.
The next morning, I woke up with a start in my seat. The chair to my right – Edythe's – creaked and I turned to look at her. The blanket was still hooked tightly over her lap and one hand was folded over her torso, her fist tucked below her other arm. Her eyes were trained away from mine and she shrank back into the seat cushions, letting out a pensive breath just kind of lost in thought. Her mouth was pulled over to one side of her face, her pink lips pursed in that expression of deep concentration I knew so well on her, a slender finger resting on the fragile-looking point of her chin as bronze tendrils came loose from her messy bun and carefully covered her cheeks, framing her perfectly beautiful face.
"What are you thinking of, Edythe?"
She started at the sound of my voice and shook her head. "It's nothing." I sighed. I guess I knew how she felt when I did the same exact thing to her.
"Come on, I know you better than that, Edythe."
She pursed her lips again, crossing both arms over her chest. "I was just thinking about that child, the one which my cousins saw that day."
"Sulpicia's… um, daughter?"
"No, I'm not quite so sure about that."
"What do you mean?"
"It's possible, but I don't think so – that is, I don't think the child is really hers. Call it a hunch, if you will."
"What makes you say that?" I asked, curious.
"It's just that when I saw the memory in Kirill's head, what the two had didn't exactly strike me as a mother-daughter relationship, though I could tell there was definitely love there. Almost like a mother and daughter, but not quite. It's just a feeling." She sighed. "She really was a beautiful little girl – dark curly hair, the prettiest blue eyes. I truly wonder what ever did become of her." Her voice fell off into nothing and I squeezed her hand tighter in mine. You could tell in the way she said those words that something else was being left unspoken; the elephant in the room I had only just thought of in that moment - it was the question of mortality. Did the little girl die of old age? Was she killed? Just how easy was it to end her life? And what if our child would face the same fate? This whole time I've been ignorantly assuming that since the baby had Edythe's genes, he was probably going to be around for a long, long time, even if he was part me. Immortal; indestructible – but, maybe that wasn't going to be the case. It was like I was cursing him with my humanness. As long as he would outlive me though, I could be fine with that. But Edythe… would she have to see me - if I decided to stay human - and then him die? Her own child?
I tried to shake those horrible thoughts away and threw myself hard into the backrest, taking a deep breath.
It was perfect then when the air hostesses who pushed around those little trolleys of food came up to us next and instinctively, Jules - after giving me a worried look and then a reassuring smile which immediately put me at ease - and I lowered the trays attached to the back of the chairs in front of us. We were handed these small, fancy white plates of breakfast croissants, yogurt, fruit, some eggs and bacon, orange juice, and even a single-serving cup of homemade Jell-O each. Jules and I dug in to the stuff we were given. I traded Jell-O flavors with her, swapping my orange out with her strawberry. It was a win-win situation because I knew orange was her favorite and strawberry was mine, so that worked out pretty perfectly for us. Happily munching away on the food with my best friend almost made me forget about those scary thoughts from earlier. Almost.
…
The pilot's voice blared on the intercom, jolting me out of an afternoon nap. I assumed that meant we were going to be landing soon, and his words confirmed it not a moment later. We touched down at a small, local airport – Pula was what it was called, I think – and went to retrieve our bags, heading outside together right after. Another one of those black vans was waiting for us and we all climbed in.
"Where to?" asked Carine, settling in behind the wheel. She was looking at Arch who was right beside her in the passenger seat.
"High up in the Ucka Mountain range. They have a place there. We have the address, but it's only a matter of what road's best to take. I was thinking we can just head on over to one of the local towns and ask for some directions, say we're tourists; hikers, perhaps." He squeezed his eyes shut, concentrating. Then he snapped his fingers. "I got it – Kringa. A little over three miles south of Tinjan. That's the name. We're going to meet up with a tour guide there who goes by the name Delia." With that, Arch quickly began typing an address into the digital GPS, pinching the screen to zoom in on something - I couldn't quite make out what it was, I was in the way back of the car - then releasing it again, reconfiguring the display and leaning back in his chair. The trip didn't take long, probably forty-five minutes tops. I looked out the car window most of the time, flashes of the Adriatic Sea passing us by in brilliant, scintillating hues of turquoise-blue which shone in the glint of the afternoon sun – I mean, this place was absolutely beautiful. It almost felt like we were on vacation. Still, I couldn't allow myself to enjoy it - not fully, at least. I couldn't immerse myself in the experience; in the beauty of it all. It's a bummer because I could have really loved being here if only I could've been assured of my family's safety; of our future together. That was the most important thing in the world to me, and I couldn't let myself be distracted by anything. I held on tight to Edythe's hand, resting it in my lap. We didn't say much the entire car ride but I could feel her fingers around my own every now and again, bringing my hand to rest on her cheek and kissing my wrist. I'd do the same to her, us silently taking comfort in the nearness of each other. It was the one thing that calmed me down in the storm of my thoughts. Soon, we found ourselves at the mouth of this little passageway, a tunneled grove of sweet-smelling trees whose branches were fanned out high over our heads, verdant boughs of flourishing greens with flecks of the sun and the brilliant blue sky streaming in through the interstices made between the smooth, pointed leaves. The passage, like a hidden trail of sorts, entered right into the heart of a little village that looked like it came straight out of a book of fairytales. Its old buildings rested on a cobbled floor and floral vines made trellises creep up on all sides of the walls. In the distance, I heard the babble of a creek and birds calling out to one another from the tops of the trees. Carine looked out all around us, slowing the car down and pulling us over on the side of the road to check in with our guide.
"Is this it, honey?" she asked, looking at Arch. He nodded.
"Yeah. This is it." Arch stepped outside, raising his head up to the sky then staring out on the road in front of the van, his eyes laser-focused on one of the old buildings like he was trying to nail a bullseye on a darts board. He jabbed a finger twice in the direction of its hanging wooden sign which dangled above the entrance. We started towards the place together and when we got to the front of the building, I took in the two large, paned windows on either side of the door and spotted a small chart on which business hours were printed in fancy font attached to the left-most corner of the right-hand window. I looked inside, cupping my eyes against the glass. They just opened today less than ten minutes ago, so it being relatively empty right now made sense. That was pretty perfect for us, I guess. A bell chimed as we walked in and I looked around, a little disoriented at first. The lighting was dim like there was smoke in the air, and I quickly realized it was one of those themed bars you'd see on the Travel channel. My eyes flicked to the wall in the back filled with all these different kinds of red wines and spirits in tall glass bottles. Situated between two of the shelves I could make out a little menu done in neon marker which displayed the names of all their signature drinks, names such as "Vampire Blood", "Vampire's Kiss", "Blood Martini", and other cheesy stuff like that. Jules' mouth hung open and I could tell she would most definitely burn the place down if she could and I laughed to myself. I looked to the crushed velvet barstools which lined the wooden bar counter, stained-glass lamps and garlic wreaths inset with wooden crosses decorating the wall behind it. On another wall to the right there was a coffin-shaped shelving unit on which little trinkets - wooden stakes, plush bats, pairs of plastic vampire teeth you'd usually find at a Halloween store, more crosses, more garlic - were artfully displayed on each shelf. A few old-looking books leaned up against each other on the second shelf from the top out of the five which the coffin was split into. Beside it hung a huge framed painting of your typical Dracula-type of guy with the fangs and the dark clothes and the cape sucking the life out of a helpless maiden lying limp in his arms.
"Wow. Makes you feel right at home, doesn't it?" Royal remarked in a dry voice as he scanned the place and turned around, narrowing his eyes at his brother. "Really, Arch?"
"Yes, really." Arch whispered right back and took Royal's shoulders from behind, giving them a shake. Edythe laughed at her brothers' words and followed me as I ventured deeper into the place - it was the type of joint that needed to be explored. On another wall hung these ancient-looking documents whose browned edges looked ragged; aged behind the glass of black-rimmed picture frames. I took a closer look at the clippings, all of which were printed in a foreign language. Sketches of a bizarre-looking creature; bald, with pointed ears and snarling fangs complete with big, lidless eyes like Nosferatu on steroids gaped back at me. "Jure Grando, huh?" I read the familiar name out loud – I first came across the story a while ago in my research when I was trying to figure out what exactly Edythe and her siblings were what felt like forever ago. Apparently, the guy was one of the first humans in history to ever officially be recorded as a vampire.
I was jolted from my thoughts when we were greeted by an older lady sitting behind the bar counter whose dark hair was gathered behind her in a fancy chignon. She was wearing a black cape lined in red satin and a white blouse with those old-timey frills by the neck tucked into a black gathered skirt, basically your stereotypical gothic garb.
She rose to her feet and showed us a bright smile. "Welcome to Kringa." I guess it wasn't really hard to tell that we were new around here. We all waved to be friendly. "Countess Eliza Templeton at your service." She modulated her voice, making it a deeper, more dramatically-elegant sound and lowered herself into a small curtsy, holding out the ends of her long skirt. Her brown eyes crinkled and she laughed good-naturedly, making it evident that she wasn't taking any of this too seriously. She leaned herself up against one of the velvet chairs. "Quite a good-looking lot you are, goodness me." She laughed again, slipping back into her normal voice and putting a hand lightly to her chest. Although we were in Croatia, I noticed that her accent was distinctly British which was pretty interesting to me since that meant we weren't the only foreigners here. "What brings you all to town, might I ask?"
"We're tourists." Arch piped, motioning to us all. "We were just passing through on our way to the Ucka mountain range and were in need of some directions."
"That so? It certainly is a beautiful place. Well, in any case I do hope you can stay for a while – I know it may not look it, but there's quite a bit to see around here."
"Thank you, but we really are in a hurry." Arch said, his voice gentle.
"Those mountains aren't going anywhere, love." Eliza remarked, still smiling. "I think the girl you'll want to see then is Delia. Knows the country inside and out, that one."
Arch gave Royal a smug side-eye glance and Eleanor poorly hid her laugh as she wove her fingers through her husband's. From behind a curtain of dangly crimson jewels leading into what I assumed was the kitchen emerged a tall, slender wisp of a figure clad in a black dress with the same cape lined in red satin as Eliza, so I was pretty sure she worked here, too. Only, this woman was young – she couldn't have been much older than me and was probably around the same age as Carine, or at least the age which she was turned – with long, curly hair that flowed out behind her in a mane of blonde, her clear gray eyes unnaturally striking against her pale skin.
"Did I hear someone mention my name?" Her voice was a lithe, breezy sound. Her hands were gracefully clasped in front of her with the regality of a queen as she made her way over to us, the easy sway of her hips noticeable in her elegant gait. I felt my eyes go wide when I saw her up close – I mean, she was totally gorgeous; I thought she could be a model for sure. I wasn't the only one – even Jules looked at her the way I did, her lips parted in what I thought could have been awe.
"She is lovely, isn't she?" Eliza mused, I guess noticing our reaction to the young woman.
"Very." Jules answered, blinking. I nodded in agreement.
"Oh please, you're too kind." The young woman – Delia was her name – laughed a little and crossed one arm over her torso, covering half her face with her other hand and looking down like she was genuinely embarrassed by the flattery. She bit her lip and fumbled for words, her cheeks flushing bright red - it reminded me a little of myself, only she looked a million times better doing all that than I did. "I heard you needed some directions – to the Ucka mountain range, correct?" she quickly managed and pointed a finger in our direction, making her way to a wall by the front entrance of the bar that had a clear brochure rack like one you might find at a visitor center in a small town off the highway mounted on it and took from one of the slots a paper brochure which opened up into a decently-sized map. Arch and Carine stood on either side of the woman. They were quiet, and I could only make out bits and pieces of what they were saying. "You turn off the exit here… take a right at… stop here… reached your destination" was pretty much all I got from their exchange. She folded the map into a brochure again and held it out to Carine with both hands. Carine took the pamphlet and thanked her, sliding it into her jacket pocket. The whole time though, Edythe was watching Delia like a hawk, an intense look of concentration flashing across her face.
"Strange." Edythe muttered, narrowing her eyes.
"What's up?" I whispered, squeezing her hand. Right as Edythe was about to answer though, Arch and Carine came back to us.
"You've got it?" Earnest asked, smiling. Carine nodded and wrapped her arms around his torso, giving him a kiss on the lips. Just then, a metallic chime sounded in the bar and I traced it to a small, gothic-looking clock attached to the far wall. Delia looked out the window and gasped. A small cluster of tourists had gathered there, just one couple and a group of three friends by the looks of it. I'd almost forgotten – Delia was a tour guide, just as Arch had said earlier. That explained why she knew the area so well. She hurried past us but stopped real quick, swiveling on her heel. "Would you care to join us?" She motioned to the window. "We do daily English tours at three every weekday. I talk a little bit about the history of vampires in this region, most notably our very own Jure Grando."
"Thank you, but I'm afraid we'll have to pass-" Arch began.
"Please, I insist. It's free, if that makes any difference. Just give me half an hour, I promise it'll be worth your while." she finished with a laugh. There was something in the way she said that which made you stop and stare for a minute to seriously consider her words. She was just one of those individuals who had that persuasive edge to their voices. Arch deliberated, looking down at his watch and out the window like he was checking the weather. He closed his eyes for a few seconds then opened them again, nodding eagerly. "Sure, why not?" His voice was calm, but there was an undercurrent of excitement in it like he knew something we didn't, which by the way was usually the case in this family 99.9% of the time. "It should be fun."
"Wonderful." Delia breathed, clasping her hands together like an excited little kid. "Please, join us outside. I'll be with you all shortly." She disappeared behind the jewel curtains again and we started for the door.
"She has arrhythmia. I suppose that makes sense; she's taking her medication right now." Edythe whispered beside me, her velvety voice confused but intrigued all at once. "She's so young, though." She sighed, shaking her head and leading me by the hand to the door. Just as we passed by another large cross which hung on the wall by the main entrance, Edythe looked out the window at the little tour group gathered in front of the bar and her full pink lips pulled up into a sneaky smile which melted easily onto her radiant features, like she was proposing a challenge to someone all the while knowing for sure that she was going to be the one to win in the end anyways. "I'm dying to hear what they've got for this one."
By the time we got outside, the afternoon sun had already dipped behind the clouds and the striking blue of the sky from earlier dimmed to a whitish-gray above us now. It looked like it was about to rain, the weather perfectly acquiescing itself to the needs of my wife and in-laws – almost as if it were wanting for us to hear the story, too. It was obviously important if Arch changed his mind and got so excited over it, right?
Jules came up beside me then. "More bloodsuckers. Yay." She narrowed her eyes, her lips forming a sarcastic smile as she threw two small fists up to either side of her face in a mocking display of celebration.
"Wow, I can feel the enthusiasm just radiating off of you from here, Jules." I nudged her with the tip of my elbow and bit back a smile.
"Oh yeah, I am totally thrilled. Just tickled pink."
"Gee, I can tell." We both laughed out loud when I said that. "Well, in any case I'm sure it should be interesting." I shrugged, still smiling at my best friend.
"You owe me big-time."
"I know it." I said in all seriousness.
"Yeah." She sighed, turning her attention back on the people around us as we waited for Delia to come out. Right on cue, we heard the bell chime not a moment later and our eyes found hers when she emerged from behind the door.
"Very sorry to have kept you waiting. Welcome all, my name is Delia and I'll be your tour guide for today." She showed us an easy smile and started leading us down the avenue. She stuck close to the shadows, gathering us all in the shade when she could at any stops she made even when the sky was already graying - another good thing for us. About half a mile in we passed the ruins of an ancient castle and these small old houses. Then, she led us to a small gated lot which white stone cisterns were erected in, arched bronze curlicue decorations coming out from the tops of them. Right next to the lot was a church with a flat-shingled roof inset with three small windows which stood beside a tall, steepled belltower and she stopped us there for a minute so people could take some pictures before continuing on again, walking while she talked. Each step she took was a confident stride and her hands trailed along the old walls and iron gates like she was feeling for something we couldn't see; echoes of the past coming to life inside her mind. That made sense - I figured if she was a tour guide, then she was probably going to be a history buff, too.
"The legend of Jure Grando was first immortalized in written text in the year 1689 by historian Johann Weikhard von Valvasor." She narrowed her gray eyes theatrically as she began the tale. She told us about how, after Jure Grando's death in 1656, both his widow and the villagers of Kringa were continually terrorized by his bloodthirsty corpse for the next sixteen years; a corpse which brought nothing but death and destruction wherever he went. One day, the villagers finally had enough. The priest who'd buried Grando all those years ago confronted him with a cross, causing him to retreat. A few nights later, a group of villagers assembled with the intent of killing Grando by digging up his coffin and driving a stake through his heart. However, the stake couldn't pierce his skin, so the priest and the villagers tried to exorcise Grando's body instead. When that too failed though, another villager took up a saw to try and decapitate the guy with. Apparently, as soon as the teeth of the saw cut through his skin, red supposedly flowed from the wound and flooded the entire graveyard as the "blood of his victims returned back to earth". After that, Jure Grando never disturbed the village again. The way Delia told the story made it feel like it really happened, like she was really there to see it all back then with the way she moved her hands, slowed down then sped up her speech, and how her face constantly changed with the flow of the folktale, engaging us every second. It wasn't just the way she told the story which made it believable, though. For example, while I know vampires can't bleed nor be harmed by religious objects or human weapons – so the cross and the saw in the story probably would've had no effect on the guy whatsoever – the villagers being unable to pierce his skin with that wooden stake was an accurate detail I haven't heard much before in pop culture nor in my own research, so I thought it was pretty interesting.
As it turned out, that was the final stop on the tour. Afterwards, Delia led us from there back to all the places we'd just gone through, moving forward by going backwards in a sense. Soon enough, we were in front of that vampire bar again. By the looks of it, everyone seemed to have had a great time – she really was good at her job. That couple and the three friends we were touring with all thanked Delia, who showed them each a congenial, perfect tour guide smile. She continually kept us in her field of vision though, looking at us warily from out of the corner of her eye every now and then as she shook all their hands. I guess I couldn't blame her – we were definitely an odd bunch, to say the least. It was like she sensed that about us – that we, at least my wife and my in-laws and maybe even Jules, too, were a little different – and was wondering whether to keep her distance from us or not. Delia stayed looking at us from the front door as she saw the other members of the group off and when it was just our family left, she came up to us, a polite smile playing up at the corners of her lips. "Thanks again for sticking around, I do hope you enjoyed that." Her eyes met all of ours a moment each though they lingered on Edythe for a split-second longer. I knew my wife had caught that, her hand tightened around my arm and she looked up at me before turning her gaze back on Delia, who went around and started shaking all our hands.
"I'm glad we stayed, thank you for the opportunity. I'm sure I speak for all of us when I say we had a great time, it was very informative. You've got a way with words." Arch answered our guide with an easy smile.
"I appreciate that, thank you." Delia said, shaking mine then Edythe's hand last and stepping back to look at us all again. "Well, in any case I better let you all go, then. The mountains are absolutely beautiful, be sure to take plenty of pictures. You might get there just in time to catch the sunset. If you'd rather not travel back home in the dark, there's also a lovely little hotel you can spend the night in on the way there, about an hour from the foot of the mountains just before you get to the edge of the trees." She handed us another pamphlet from the brochure rack by the door and Arch thanked her again as we started for the exit together.
"One last thing." Her clear, pleasant voice piped up from behind us and we all turned around to look at her. "Be careful out there." She eyed Edythe especially now. Her hands met in front of her and that gothic cape she wore - part of her uniform - flew out behind her as a cool breeze edged its way in through the open door. "Precious cargo. Wouldn't you agree?" Delia chuckled and motioned to Edythe from head-to-foot with both hands, probably trying to lighten the mood which had grown inexplicably tense with her words from earlier. I guess she must've noticed. Edythe's eyes narrowed, but she nodded once and showed Delia a tight smile.
"Thank you for your concern. We'll be sure to keep that in mind."
With that, Edythe trained her eyes back in front of her and followed Arch out the door, gripping my hand as we left the place behind us.