Magda shrugged her shoulders. “He is a man of very odd tastes. After a while, we all just ignored the idiosyncrasies. Besides, he is a vampire. ”
“True enough. ” I tested the door and was surprised to find it unlocked.
We entered a long corridor that led to the castle kitchen. It was obviously in disuse. Over the cold hearth, laundry swam in tepid water. Bed clothes and curtains were strewn about the floor and in one corner a heap of fine women’s garments were shredded.
“The servants left in a hurry. ” Magda knelt down beside a candle that had been crushed under someone’s foot. She picked up a discarded candle from nearby and lit it with the touch of her finger.
I was startled by her action.
“I have drunk enough of his blood to gain a few. . . ” she struggled for the word.
“Powers?”
“Gifts,” she answered. “I can will fire into being. ” The firelight danced in the depths of her dark eyes. “Sometimes I cannot contain it as I should. ” Her voice was tinged with regret and she averted her gaze as she moved toward a door on the far side of the abandoned kitchen.
“We should be careful,” I instructed her. “All of the windows are shuttered. They could still be about in the darkness. ”
“Count Dracula will not hurt me,” Magda assured me.
“Yes, but I cannot say the same for me. ”
Drawing close to her, we walked deeper into the castle.
Chapter 7
Letter to Lord Astir from Adem continued…
We found the castle to be as the countess had described: some areas were quite pleasant and restored to their former glory while others were in great disrepair. Near the library that the countess had described in some detail, we found the bodies of two gypsies. Magda let out a gasp when the candlelight fell upon their hideously twisted forms.
Taking her candle, I drew closer to the corpses. Both were completely drained of blood and only their clothing revealed they were women. Magda looked away from their wretched faces filled with terror even in death. Setting the candle near me on the floor, I began to examine them. Their clothes were bulging around their withered limbs. With gentle hands, I pulled back their clothing and uncovered bags full of jewels and other valuables such as a gold goblet.
“They were stealing from the castle,” I ascertained.
Magda glanced over her shoulder to see the loot. “Why would they steal from him? In Buda, all of us knew that to steal from him was death. ”
“Maybe because they do not fear him anymore,” I answered, my thoughts quickly sifting through the various possibilities.
Instead of commenting as I expected, Magda instead bit her lip and averted her gaze. I found this reaction to be intriguing and set aside the looted goods. Returning her candle, I took hold of Magda’s elbow as I guided her to the stairway that would lead us down into the dungeons.
As we passed through a long room filled with armor, I plucked a torch from the wall and lit it using Magda’s candle. The light scattered the shadows and illuminated the dusty floor. Though the darkness lingering in the stairwell was daunting, I did not sense any lurking danger. I am old enough to not let my nerves rule over my imagination and I gave Magda a reassuring smile. The candlelight flickered in her dark eyes as she returned a strained one.
“Stay behind me. Their resting place is nearby, but is not accessible from the dungeons,” I whispered.
She glanced over her shoulder into the blackness behind her. “That is where they rest, isn’t it?”
I nodded my head. “The other stairwell at the opposite end of this hall leads to the chapel and their resting place. ”
Swallowing hard, she returned her gaze to me.
“We shall hurry and be gone. ”
I do not have the preternatural instincts of a supernatural creature, but even I could feel the distinct lack of Vlad’s power in the castle. The man’s presence is overwhelming even when he is sleeping. His power is as majestic as it is evil. Yet, despite this castle being his haven, I could not perceive it. In that moment, I believed that he was dead.
I crept down the darkened stairwell, my ears attuned to the slightest sound that was not our footfalls or breath. The air was heavy and cold, reeking of mold and rot. The stairs spiraled downward until I reached the torture room filled with rusting devices of pain and death. Magda coughed on the dust that rose as we tread over the ancient floor, approaching the door that had once kept the countess' mother captive. Countess Dracula had not recounted the tale of her mother’s death in any detail, but sorrow had filled her eyes and spilled from her words as she had instructed us where to search for her mother’s rosary.
The light from my torch revealed that the door was ajar. Darkness loomed within. I saw Magda cross herself as I reached out to the door.
It creaked open on ancient hinges and I thought I heard the startled gasp of a woman. I raised my torch swiftly, directing the light over the small room that reeked of death. It was empty. Realizing it was most likel