Lord of the Vampires (30 page)

But firstyou must calm yourself, and when lunch is ready, you must eat. Afterwards, you can tell me the details about his troubles.

As I spoke, she had already grown calm, and the shadow had lifted from her face, leaving her subdued but hopeful. We went down to lunch, and afterwards, we retired to the drawing-room, and I urged her to speak of Jonathan.

She lowered her gazein fact, seemed to look within herself for the solution to some dilemma. Dr. Van Helsingand here she looked up at me again with that frank, honest gazewhat I have to tell you is so queer that even I am not sure whether I believe it. It all sounds like madness; so you must promise that you will not laugh at what I confide in you.

My pulse quickened; I knew we were about to speak of Dracula and his doings. Mrs. Harker was no madwoman, of that I was certain. And so I smiled ruefully as I confessed, My dear, if you only knew how strange is the reason for which I am hereit would be
you
who would laugh. I have learned over time never to dismiss anyones belief without investigation, regardless of how bizarre or impossible it may seem.

She watched me intently as she spoke, and I think it was the understanding in my gaze more than the meaning of my words that convinced her. She relaxed and nodded, reassured. Thank you, Dr. Van Helsing. She rose, went to the desk, and took again from the basket another stack of paper, which she presented to me.

This is the diary which my husband kept whilst in Transylvania. It is long, but I have typewritten it out; it will explain better than I can in a few words the extent of his trouble. To tell the truth, when I read itonly recently, and for the first timethe details were so intricate and consistent that I half-believed it. Even now, I am in a fever of doubt. I can say no more: Will you take it, read it, and judge? I will wait to hear from you.

I shall read it tonight, I promised, for I was just as eager to read it as she was to hear my opinion concerning it. I will stay in Exeter tonight so that I can let you know my thoughts at once. May I come again in the morning to see both you and your husband?

The great relief upon her face was wonderful to behold; so our meeting was arranged. She of course assumed I desired it so as to make a subtle examination of Jonathans mind, but in truth, I wanted to see for myself whether the vampires mark was on him.

Thus I spent that night in a quiet hotel room, reading the private journal of a man who had lived through hell and emerged somewhat intact. He had been entrapped in the castle by Dracula for two months, poor devil. And if his impressions can be trusted, he was never bitten by Vlad, but was intended as food to be left behind for three vampiresses he christens the three brides. I might have thought that, in his fear, he miscalculated the number for Zsuszanna clearly features in that entry, as does Dunya, and when last I had been to the castle, those were the only two women there. But to hear one distinctly described as golden-haired and sapphire-eyedthis could be neither of them. My hypothesis: that this was Zsuzsannas Elisabeth; if so, she must be here in London too.

Another disturbing thought came to me as I read the manuscriptmight Jonathan have been bitten without his knowledge by Vlad or one of the women? At any rate, I was determined to find out during my next visit to the Harker home.

But along with my fear for both Madam Mina and her new husband came a growing sense of admiration for him. Here was a young and far-from-worldly young solicitor who found himself abruptly in the most harrowing of circumstancesin Draculas castle, confronted by disappearing vampiresses and Vlads sadistic hints at his eventual demise, the realisation that the prince (that is, the count, for so it amused Dracula to present himself to his Exeter-based solicitors) cast no reflection in mirrors, commanded wolves, captured small children and gave them to the evil women for sustenance; and worst of all, the fact that he, Harker, was locked inside the castle with no means of escape.

Did he surrender? Did he yield to his immortal seductresses? No. Instead, knowing himself dead if he took no action, Jonathan crawled from his window some several hundred feet above the rocky ground, and through sheer will clung with feet and fingers to the stones and crevices on the castle wall. Thus he made his way down and escaped on footan almost impossible task.

And before he fled, he encountered Vlad asleep in his coffinnot once, but twice. Most men would have run in terror at the first sight; but Harker sensed that the count was a monster to be destroyed at all costs. Thus he returned
willingly
to Vlads resting place, and attempted to murder the vampire with nothing more than a common shovel. A solicitor he might be, but a brave and true one, and if he had passed from the vampires lair unbitten (though surely not unscathed), he deserved more than any to join in the battle that now faced our little group.

Upon finishing his amazing tale, I wrote to Madam Mina that her husbands diary was entirely true, as was his brain and heart, and that her concern about his sanity was warrantless. I sent a courier from the hotel, that she might receive this news (can we really call it good or bad? Nay, it was both) at once.

Within an hour I received a letter from the same messenger; Madam Mina had penned an immediate reply, asking me to come not for lunch the following day, but for breakfast.

* * *

At precisely twenty minutes to eight this morning, I answered the knock at my hotel-room door and found myself face-to-face with the courageous Mr. Jonathan Harker, who had come to pick me up. He was, like his wife, far younger-looking than his years, with light brown curling hair and a business-like demeanour; one would never have thought him capable of the amazing physical feats and courage professed in his journal. I at once invited him inside, under the pretext that it would take me a moment to fetch my coat; but my real motive was to have him to myself a few moments unobserved.

When he entered, closing the door after him, I at once approached and held his gaze. He was an easy subject and fell into trance almost instantly.

There was no immediate sign of the indigo aura, but I wasted not a moment; I unfastened his collar and pulled it away, then unbuttoned the top of his shirt in order to thoroughly examine the neck and collarbone.

No mark. I released a sigh so deep I scarce could stand, and with silent apology righted Jonathans clothing as best I could. Then I went to waken himbut something subtle in his gaze and aura (scholarly orange, like Arthurs) troubled me. It was bright, vibrant, gleaming wherever I looked; yet in the periphery of my vision, I sensed a hint of encroaching indigo.

I did not know what it portended. In all my hunting years, I had seen traces of the dark aura only in those the vampire had bitten. And in such cases, it always showed up obviously, directlyfirst in the victims gaze, then swirling throughout his own, brighter aura.

Never had I
sensed
it like this: hovering nearby, just out of sight. Perhaps, I thought, it was only the lingering psychological effects of his imprisonment in the tower; but I could not be sure. Therefore, I deemed it wisest not to reveal all that I knew to Mr. and Mrs. Harker, lest the Impaler be privy to our plans.

The decision made, I gently released Jonathan from his trance. He came to consciousness easily, without any notice of a change. Waking, he seemed entirely free of any trace of the vampires hold. I at once took his shoulder and turned his face towards the light coming through the window, studying it carefully as I said, But Madam Mina said you were ill, that you had had a shock.

To which he smiled, and replied that he
had
been ill and
had
had a shock, but that I had cured him of it by my letter. He was an honest, pleasant fellowhe must be, to have won a wife so good as Madam Minaand we had a pleasant ride over to his home. On the way, he told me that he wanted to provide whatever help he could against the count. In his eyes shone a burning desire (perhaps, even, as great as mine) to see the monster destroyed.

Masking my disquiet, I told him that I indeed needed his help, and immediately: my work would be greatly eased if he could provide information concerning all business transacted with Count Dracula before his, Jonathans, trip to Transylvania.

This he promised to provide before I left Exeter later that morningand in fact, after we two had returned to his house and breakfasted with Miss Mina, he handed me a bundle of papers so that I might read them on the train back to London.

He and his wife are good, kind people, and when I see what they have already suffered at Vlads hands, I can only think of myself and Gerda when we were youngbefore our small family was destroyed by the vampire. Here in London, for the first time in many years, I have begun to feel myself surrounded by a family again, of brave and loving souls united by a common evil. I could not bear to think of Harker and sweet Madam Mina torn apart, or turned into vile undead parodies of themselves.

Yet how could I protect them, without possibly exposing John and the others to more danger if Jonathan was Vlads unwitting spy?

I did not know. But as Jonathan drove me back to the station, I asked softly, If, in the future, I were to, call both you and Madam Mina to London, would you come?

Call us when you will, he said, and we will come.

I have spoken with John frankly about the Harkers. He agrees that we must do what we can to help both Madam Mina and her husband, but, same as I, is perplexed about what Jonathans oblique indigo taint might mean. Therefore we have decided that, when the Harkers come to London (and I have no doubt they shall), they will stay here at the asylum. They shall not know that /am hereI shall maintain invisibility for myself and Gerda in our respective cellsand this will assist me in keeping surreptitious watch over Jonathan until we establish whether he is Vlads agent or no. Until then, we will assume that he is, and will secretly use such precautions as I already do with Gerda. This will be safest for Mrs. Harker.

John has agreed that he will reveal no information to the Harkers that will alert them to the full depth of our knowledge; rather, we are to seem as bumbling fools who know nothing of Vlads new strength. Thus, if Vlad is privy to Jonathans thoughts, he shall discover little of our plans. I have also warned John that Madam Mina has copied her and her husbands journals out, and offered them to me; the time may come when he will be called upon to surrender his. As for myself, I can easily say that I
have
no diary, for the Harkers will see no evidence of itor me on the asylum grounds. But John records upon his phonograph daily, sometimes several times a day, and his equipment is too difficult to hide. I have asked him not to record any details he does not wish everyone to hearor at the very least, to record them secretly by pen, so that he might not be overheard and the diary might be hidden away. He has agreed; and will also go back and listen to what he has already recorded. Any cylinders containing entries which reveal too much will be hidden in my cell, and he shall re-record them to make them consistent with what we want the Harkersand by default, Arthur and Quinceyto know. We have agreed that John shall play the sceptic, who knows nothing of the vampire and is slow to believe.

I have another reason for dissembling, one which perhaps is foolish: If Madam Mina, that brave and stalwart soul, were to learn the extent of Vlads powers, she might lose hope. And that I could not bear to see.

Chapter 13

Dr. Sewards Diary

29 SEPTEMBER.

How strange to write this by pen, and in my bedroom rather than the office. It goes against the grain to agree to deceit, especially one that might affect my two finest friends, Art and Quince; but I understand the reason for it, and must take comfort in the fact that by doing so, I protect them.

So here is the truthI must record it somehow, lest I forget all and begin to believe my own lies.

Today, shortly after noon, the
professor took
me back to Lucys tomb. Our plan for gaining entry to the cemetery was quite simple: We would wait for a funeral, which could be counted on to take place at mid-day, then hide ourselves when the mourners left. (There seems little point in arousing suspicion by climbing over the wall in broad daylight.) The sexton, thinking all had gone, would lock the iron gate behind him. Then we would be free to do as we wished, for Van Helsing confided to me that he has retained the key to the Westenra tomb, which the mortician had given him to give to Arthur.

I admit, I accompanied Van Helsing with a great deal of trepidation. My grief over Lucys death, though no longer raw, was still fresh, and to finally witness the reality of vampirism with
her
as example seemed too painful. I think I agreed in something of a daze, for I could scarcely believe her dead, much less transformed into a monster. Part of me hoped that the professor was a deluded madman, and that all this talk of blood-sucking and Vlad Dracula was but a dream from which I soon would wake. So I went only half believing that I would see the proof of Van Helsings claims.

Our plan proceeded like clockwork. We went to the churchyard and waited until the gate was unlocked and mourners had arrived. Then we, too, entereddressed in black, to better fit in. The professor had brought his medical bag, which caused me some consternation, for I felt it would draw attention to us; luckily, he was right that no one would notice or think anything of it if they did.

It was a chill, grey day, bleak and damp with mist; an appropriate day for our task. Throughout the burial, we stood quietly at the fringes of the crowd. And when it was done, and the crowd began to scatter, we moved behind the farthest tomb and waited until we heard the clang of the sexton closing the gate.

Finally, when all was clear, Van Helsing led me back to the small, square stone building at whose entry was carved the legend:

WESTENRA

I had been too distracted during Lucys funeral to remember where the tomb lay; my gaze had been focussed on her casket, draped in linen and strewn with white flowers, whilst I tried to picture how she would appear as undead. Would she still be beautiful, or even recognisable as the sweet girl she had been? Would she have long, slavering fangs and inhuman strength, bursting through the lead lining intended to hold in the stench of putrefying remains?