“May I help you?” he asked, in accented English.
“Yes, oh, thank you for speaking English,” Victoria stammered. “I’m a bit lost, you see, and I was hoping you might help me to find an inn for the night.”
From her perspective, it seemed that any self-respecting vampire with a dram of common sense might question how such a ripe plum of a victim would fall into his lap… but this particular undead appeared to have no suspicions about the serendipity of the situation. In fact, his eyes lit with unholy glee, seemingly unaware that his other prey had begun to walk along.
“But of course,” he replied. “Let us cross the bridge and get to the Town Square. There are many rooms for let there.”
And many dark corners into which a victim could be dragged and sucked bone-dry.
“Oh, thank you,” Victoria replied, wishing that she could simply slam the stake into him right here. But it would be rather difficult to explain how a man suddenly disappeared from his saddle and turned into a puff of musty ash. Too many people wandered about.
But the moment they reached a dark corner-and, ironically, they would both be intent on reaching such a locale-Victoria’s stake would find its home if he wasn’t able to tell them where Katerina was. And even if he was.
“You’re lost, you say? Where are you going?” he asked, keeping his horse next to hers along one side of the bridge as though to block her from any other passersby.
Victoria turned away coyly. “For tonight, I wish only to find a place to sleep. In the morning… well, in the morning, I shall meet my friend.” Not her best lie, but the vampire seemed patently uninterested in anything but guiding her into a dark corner.
In fact, he didn’t flicker an eyelash over her vague, rather silly story. This undead was definitely one of the less capable vampires she’d ever met. It just went to show what Aunt Eustacia had always told her. There were smart vampires and foolish ones, silly ones and frightening ones… but regardless of their personalities, every one of them was evil and bent on one thing: drinking human blood.
By now they’d crossed the bridge, walking their horses under the gateway toward Old Town.
Victoria found the area on the eastern bank of the Vlatava much closer and darker than the west side, from which she and Sebastian had approached the city. Connected buildings, creamy white ones with the familiar orange roofs, butted up along narrow, twisting cobble streets. Row after row of houses connected ten or twelve in a row of varying heights and widths. Many had lights burning in the windows, but they were obscured by curtains or shutters, and the illumination gave little to the shadowy streets.
When Victoria and the undead moved far enough from the bridge, she eased her horse into a particularly shadowy corner and stopped. “Oh dear,” she said, pretending to fuss with the bag attached to the back of her saddle. The vampire moved closer, and when she looked up, she found red eyes burning next to her face.
“I don’t think you’re going to need a place to sleep tonight,” he said, reaching for her arm. “But if you insist, I can certainly provide accommodations.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Victoria said calmly. “I seek Katerina. Where is she?”
“Who are you?” he asked. But he didn’t move away.
“I’m looking for the Ring of Jubai. Does she have it?”
“Who are you?” Now he pulled back, his eyes fading a bit in surprise.
Impatient with his repetitive response, she grabbed the front of his coat. And then Sebastian appeared just behind the vampire, blocking his horse into the corner with her.
The vampire, who was, in the end, too foolish to look more than a bit alarmed-but not truly frightened-turned at this new presence.
“Ah, I thought that was you, Anton?n,” Sebastian said in a liquid-smooth voice. “I suggest you remove your hands from her if you wish to see another sunrise. Or… pardon me. I meant to say… sunset .”
Anton?n released Victoria, his eyes definitely no longer as pink. “Vioget?”
“Alas, but you don’t seem pleased to see me at all.”
“No, I should say not. And Katerina… I don’t believe she would welcome you either, considering the last time you were here.” Then he swiveled back to Victoria, and she could see calculation in his face. “And who is this that you protect her so vehemently?”
“This is Illa Gardella. I don’t think she is in need of my protection, Anton?n.” Sebastian’s voice held a wave of humor.
“Illa Gardella. The woman Venator.” He shifted in his saddle. “But I thought she was dead. Killed in Rome last year.”
“You have faulty information, for as you can see, I am alive and well. If you take me to Katerina… or, better yet, obtain the Ring of Jubai for me, I may perhaps allow you to see another… What was it, Sebastian? Sunset?” She leaned closer and got a whiff of undeadness. “Or perhaps I will not.”
“Is she at the tavern?” asked Sebastian.
“Not at night,” Anton?n replied. When Sebastian made a face of disbelief, he continued. “I’ve no reason to lie! Her quarrel is with you, and most likely I’d be rewarded if I brought you to her. But I can’t get the ring for you. She’s never removed it since Germintrude gave it to her. She thinks it will help bring her husband back to her someday.” He wrapped his reins in preparation to go. “Katerina is a bit… mad.”
“That is an understatement,” Sebastian muttered.
Victoria glanced at him, wondering exactly what he hadn’t told her. It wouldn’t be the first time Sebastian hadn’t been completely forthcoming. Nevertheless, they’d find Katerina and retrieve the ring. And if the vampire was slain in the process, Victoria would locate another undead for Max’s Trial.
Perhaps even this unfortunate one here. In fact… that might not be a bad idea after all, she thought, looking at the vampire in a new light. Why should Max meet a more powerful vampire like Katerina when this one would suit just fine?
“Follow me to Josevof, the Jewish Quarter,” said Anton?n, backing his horse up.
“Mmm… perhaps you would be so kind as to allow me,” said Sebastian without moving from his path. He reached over and grabbed up the reins from the vampire, wrapping them loosely around his wrist. “I do hope you aren’t offended, Anton?n, but I don’t trust you one whit.”