CONTENTS

Title

Dedication

Prologue

Chapter One - You Can't Go Home Again

Chapter Two - Jumping to Conclusions

Chapter Three - The Wolves Ate My Homework

Chapter Four - Crying Wolf

Chapter Five - The Sword of Van Helsing

Chapter Six - Aftermath

Chapter Seven - Alucard

Chapter Eight - The Netherlands

Chapter Nine - The Heir of Van Helsing

Chapter Ten - An Angry Mob

Chapter Eleven - Flying Lessons

Chapter Twelve - Enter the Dragon

Chapter Thirteen - The Tomb of the DragonSlayer

Chapter Fourteen - A Wedding or Four Funerals

Chapter Fifteen - George and the Dragon

Chapter Sixteen - The Master of the Castle

Chapter Seventeen - Spirited Away

Chapter Eighteen - Reunions

Chapter Nineteen - A Symphony of Lamentations

Chapter Twenty - You Can Go Home Again

About the Author

Acknowledgments:

MICHAEL BELMONT

AND THE HEIR OF VAN HELSING

The Adventures of Michael Belmont

Book II

Ethan Russell Erway

Copyright © 2012 Ethan Russell Erway

All rights reserved.  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system- except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews- without the written permission of publisher or author, except where permitted by law.

Kindle Edition

Discover other titles by Ethan Russell Erway at Amazon.com:

Michael Belmont and the Tomb of Anubis

Bleeding Star Chronicles Collection 1

Dedication

This book is dedicated to Raymond and Elizabeth Erway, who never let the monsters get me.

Transylvania

1893

Jonathan Harker leapt from the cart and heaved the sealed crate down into the thick, white snow.  He fell to his knees, attacking the lid with his kukri knife.

Mina watched as Quincey Morris parried and slashed his way through the gypsy servants who strove to protect their master, and gasped to see blood gushing from his side as he fell upon the other end of the crate to assist Jonathan.

Lord Godalming and Dr. Seward covered the remaining gypsies, who reluctantly submitted when they saw the men’s raised Winchesters.

Quincy thrust his bowie knife into the crate and began to pry with anguished grunts, his blood coloring the snow as the two men struggled together.  Soon the nails drew with a chilling screech and the lid was cast aside.

The deathly pale face of the count was revealed, and his red eyes opened to peer up at the attackers with rancor and spite.  Mina knew that look well.  She watched the reflection in those eyes as the setting sun finally disappeared beyond the mountains far behind her.

The look of hatred transformed into that of triumph as the beast burst from his coffin like some ghoulish jack-in-the-box.  He reached out to seize the two men who’d disturbed him, grabbing each by the throat with inhuman strength.

The beast who now stood towering over them was more animal than man, though exactly what animal would be hard to say.  Coarse, gray fur covered his body, his ears were long and pointed, his nose turned up and snubbed, but it was his eyes that remained the most human.  Mina recognized the count in those eyes, despite his terrible, demonic face.

Jonathan slashed at the creature’s neck with his kukri, catching him with a strike that would have taken the head off any normal man, yet it was not enough.

Mina gasped as a firm hand took her shoulder and pulled her out of the way to safety.  It was Dr. Abraham Van Helsing.  He gazed into her eyes to make sure she was still the Mina they knew and trusted.

Quincy took aim at Dracula’s heart and buried his bowie to the hilt.  The beast dropped his victims and staggered back, shaking with rage.  He pulled the knife out and cast it into the snow, drops of black blood falling to mark its trail.

Jonathan took another swing at the monster’s head, but it caught his wrist and raised him into the air, throwing him headlong into the carriage.

Van Helsing drew a long, two-edged sword from his side and hurled it through the air to Quincy.  “Plunge it into his heart,” he ordered frantically.

The Texan caught the sword by the hilt and turned to see a look of fear on Dracula’s bat-like face as he thrust the blade into his heart.  He opened his mouth to scream, but the only sound Mina heard was a faint crackling wisp.  Any other time, the noise might have been comforting, it was not unlike the dwindling embers of a campfire, but now it made Mina’s blood run cold.  She looked into the count’s eyes for the final time, and felt moved to see a look of peace, one she never could have imagined might have rested there, and watched as almost in the drawing of a breath, the count crumbled into dust and passed from her sight.

The gypsies, upon seeing the remarkable demise of their master, turned and fled for their lives.  Likewise, the wolves, which had already withdrawn to a safe distance, followed their human comrades, leaving Mina and her companions alone.

Mina ran to the wounded Quincy Morris, who had collapsed on the ground.  The crimson stain that still flowed from his side contrasted sharply with his face, which was now nearly as white as the falling snow.  Jonathan got down and heaved his friend’s torso onto his lap, propping his head up.

Quincy looked first at Jonathan and then at Mina, examining their anguished looks and the tears on Mina’s cheeks.

“I’m too happy to have been of service, Miss.”  He struggled to sit up, and his pale lips stretched out into a broad smile.  “God be thanked,” he said, pointing up to Mina’s clear, beautiful face.  “The curse has lifted.  Look, look at her face.”

He slumped back down, though Jonathan strained to hold him.  “God be thanked; the curse has been lifted.”  He smiled warmly once again, squeezing Jonathan’s hand.  “It was all worth it,” he said.  And then he passed.

Dr. Seward smiled sadly at Mina.  “He died a gallant gentleman.”  Then he looked at Jonathan and Godalming.  “All of us could only hope for the same.”

It was silent for a few moments before a movement in the distance toward the castle caught Jonathan’s eye.

“Is that Dr. Van Helsing?  Running toward the castle?”

They called out to him, but he did not answer.

Lord Godalming and Dr. Seward started after him.

“Come,” said Jonathan, taking Mina’s hand.  “We must stay together.  This may be some new sort of madness.”

Mina struggled to keep up with Jonathan as they trailed the two men who were determined to catch up with Van Helsing.  They burst through the doors into the castle not knowing what to expect, and followed the doctor as he ran furiously to his unknown destination.

“Come, come we must hurry,” he ordered them.  “The portal must be closed before anything else escapes.”  He bounded up the stone stairwell with remarkable speed, and they trailed behind him through several passages before finally catching up where he waited in a small, cage-like chamber.

“Quickly.  Please.  In here!”  He ushered them all in and pulled a long metal lever, which protruded from the wall.  The clunking and grinding of chains commenced, and with a jerk they began to ascend.  Mina touched her stomach to quell the abrupt sinking sensation.

“Doctor, what is the point in all this?” Jonathan demanded.  “Where are you taking us, exactly?”

“You’ll see.  Very soon, you’ll see.  The boy gave me directions, now we just need to get the sword to the portal before anything else escapes.  Pray that we aren’t already too late.”

They continued to press him for answers, but none could make sense of his mutterings.

After a short while, the cage came to a halt.  Van Helsing pushed the barred door aside, bounding out to lead them down another corridor.

Mina felt as though she were going to collapse from exhaustion just as they reached the top of another staircase, but Van Helsing threw the doors open to a large chamber and shouted.  “Here.  Come quickly now.”

They rushed to the center of the chamber, where a large iron throne was fixed.  It was shaped in the form of a great roaring dragon with outspread wings.  Its front arms served as the armrests, and its clawed hands waited with outward facing palms ready for any potential attacker.  Its barbed tail wrapped around the entire throne several times and formed steps leading up to the seat.

A few dozen feet in front of the throne on either side were two stone obelisks.  These too were shaped like dragons, standing erect on their hind legs and looking toward the throne.  Mina observed that they were covered with some strange sort of writing.  The characters were nothing like she’d ever seen before, completely foreign to her.

Van Helsing ushered them all in around the throne.

“Hold this for a moment, won’t you?” He asked Lord Godalming, passing him the sword Quincy had used to slay Dracula.  The monster’s black blood still dripped from its blade.  Van Helsing then placed his hands on the throne and pulled himself up to take a seat.

“Thank you,” he told Godalming as the blade was passed back up.  He placed the weapon across his lap and sat there calmly, taking a few deep breaths and staring ahead, as if he were looking for something.  Mina followed his eyes to see for herself what it was.

There, between the two obelisks, she saw nothing but a great tapestry hanging on the wall beyond.  The image portrayed a gruesome scene.  Hundreds of men were impaled on spikes, and their blood flowing over the ground formed a river.  In front of them rode the handsome image of Vlad III, Prince of Wallachia, on a white horse, sword raised in the air.  The very castle in which they stood could be seen in the background.

Yet…there was something unusual there.  The image seemed to be moving; it swayed and blurred as Mina watched.  Then she noticed that the stone wall on which the tapestry hung was doing the same thing.  There was some sort of subtle green light or mist; Mina couldn’t be sure which, passing through the pillars in front of them and causing the effect.

Dr. Seward shifted uncomfortably.  “Dr. Van Helsing, please, what are we doing here?”

“LOOK,” he responded, pointing to a window on their right, where a cloud of dust was blowing in and drifting toward the obelisks.

“Ha-ha, GOOD!” laughed Van Helsing.  “The evil spirits which inhabited Dracula’s mortal form are being drawn back in through the portal.”

The particles of dust floated lightly to the space between the pillars, and as they passed through lit up and sparkled like tiny green shooting stars.  Hundreds of tiny shooting stars, flying away from them into the nothingness beyond.

“It’s beautiful,” Mina said, so softly that no one heard her.

“This gateway is where Dracula drew most of his evil power,” Van Helsing told them.  “Without him here to posses it, it’s all going back.”

“What exactly is this portal?” Jonathan asked, “That is, where does it go?”

“It is an egress from the realm of the damned,” the doctor answered.  “And we must close it.  We must ensure that Dracula and his minions remain on the other side.”  He watched with excitement as the last few particles floated into the mist and zipped away.  “If I knew how to destroy this gateway, I would do it.  But alas, that knowledge has evaded me.”

He wiped Dracula’s blood from the sword before drawing it across his own forearm.  Mina winced.

“Not even a blow from the mightiest hammer has been able to scar these pillars.  I was however, lucky enough to discover how to seal the gateway and prevent anyone else from re-opening it.”  He smeared his own blood along the blade, and then sheathed the sword into a small hidden slot in the dragon’s right palm.  Pulling it all the way in to the hilt, he turned the hilt clockwise until he could turn no more.  The ethereal barrier between the pillars shimmered with a green flash of light and disappeared.  Mina looked to the wall and mural once more, seeing no strange effect.

Van Helsing pulled the sword from the throne and held it out for examination.  The blood he’d smeared across the blade was gone, and the steel glimmered as if it had just been polished.

Mina was drained.  She felt like she could lie down right there on the floor and sleep for days.  Van Helsing looked at her with kindness and sympathy.  He reached down and touched her cheek.

“My deepest apologies for this excursion, my dear.  But it was necessary, I assure you.”  He turned to Lord Godalming and Dr. Seward.  “There are still several matters that need my attention.  Perhaps the two of you would be kind enough to assist me, but first we must see to the body of Mr. Morris, and assure that our beloved Mina and her Jonathan are sent safely on their way back home.”

Mina smiled gratefully.  She placed her head on Jonathan’s shoulder and closed her eyes.  The nightmare was over.  Finally, it was over, and now she would be able to sleep and dream of good and lovely things once again.

CHAPTER ONE

You Can't Go Home Again

The gravelly washboard road caused the car to shake violently, drawing Michael out of sleep.  He sat up and rubbed his eyes.  It was morning, which meant his father must have driven straight through the night.  The sunlight was gleaming in and out through the snow-covered trees, and it took him a moment to wrap his head around where they were.

“Morning, Sleeping Beauty,” his father said while eyeing him in the rear view mirror.

Michael ignored him.

His parents hadn’t given him a lot of details about this trip.  All he knew was that they were returning to his mother’s childhood home to retrieve an old family heirloom.  They told him they would explain more about it when the time was right.  He hated it when grown-ups told him that.

“Are we almost there yet?” he asked them sleepily.

“Yes,” his mother answered.  “It’s just up this road.”  Michael thought she sounded unusually nervous, and that worried him a little.

He thought of his little sister Abigail, who had stayed home with their mother’s best friend Elizabeth.  Abby had an important kung fu demonstration coming up in a few days, and she’d been allowed to stay because her class had scheduled extra practices.  He and his parents would be returning home in time to see her perform, as this was only a three day trip.  Michael had looked forward to getting away from his sister for a few days, but now found himself missing her company.

Before long they came to the end of the road and pulled up to a decrepit house.  It looked like something out of an old horror movie.  Could his mother really have grown up in a place like this?  It was hard to imagine someone so beautiful and happy coming from a place that looked so ugly and sad.  Maybe this house had once been different, he thought to himself.  He couldn’t recall his mother ever speaking about her life as a child, and he couldn’t remember having ever asked her about it.  That made him feel a little guilty.

The car came to a stop in the driveway next to a rusty truck with a camper shell.

Mark looked at his wife with tenderness.  He could tell she was dreading the idea of going inside.  “Are you sure you don’t want me to go in there and talk to him alone?”

“Are you kidding me?  You’d probably never come back out again.”  She scratched at her face nervously.  “Let’s just get this over with.”

His father looked back at him with an assuring smile.  “You stay here Mike, we’ll be back in just a few minutes.  Play your video games or something, okay?”

Michael forced a grin and nodded.

He watched his father and mother get out of the car and walk up to the house.  His mother knocked at the door.  Someone answered, but it was too dark inside to get a good look at whom it was.  After a moment, they both disappeared inside.

Michael stayed in the back seat and took a good look around.  The yard outside the house was just as run down as the house itself.  The whole place was overgrown with weeds, and old, rusty cars and auto parts were scattered everywhere.  A broken up washing machine sat on the porch near the front door, and the porch and ground were littered with beer cans and glass bottles.

The house looked like it hadn’t been painted for a hundred years.  The second story had two large windows that looked like eyes, and loose tiles on the roof occasionally flapped in the wind like strands of short, unkempt hair.  Everything about the place was drab and creepy.

Several minutes passed as Michael sat in the car and observed the scene around him.  Apart from the sound of the wind blowing through the trees, everything was quiet.  Perhaps turning on the radio would lighten his mood.  He leaned up over the front seat, but froze in place before reaching the knob.  Was someone yelling?  He sat back down and remained still.  There it was again.

Just as he fixed his eyes on the house and began rolling down his window to listen, a large, half emptied bottle of liquor came crashing out the window next to the front door.  Amber liquid splashed across the icy ground before it rolled to a halt a dozen feet from the car.  Michael was surprised it hadn’t broken.

There was silence for a few moments, and then the yelling resumed.  He couldn’t tell what was being said, and he didn’t recognize the voice, but a man was now screaming at the top of his lungs, and he sounded infuriated.

Michael didn’t know what to do.  He had a strong urge to jump out of the car and run to the aid of his parents, but his father had told him to stay put, and he didn’t want to make the situation worse.

He got out of the car and moved slowly toward the house, stopping at the porch near the broken window.  Listening intently, he watched the window in case anything else came flying out at him.

“YOU PUT ONE FINGER ON HER AND I’LL TAKE YOUR HEAD OFF,” he heard his father yell.

“YOU GOT WHAT YOU CAME FOR SO JUST GET OUT OF HERE.  DON’T EVER COME BACK, EITHER OF YOU.”

There was a great crashing sound, and then the front door burst open and his parents came rushing out.  His father’s head was down and his arms were folded over his chest.  His mother locked her eyes on his.

“MICHAEL, GET TO THE CAR, NOW,” she screamed at him.  She’d never spoken to him quite like that before, and it scared him.

He ran up ahead of them and jumped in the back seat, but they weren’t far behind.  His mother pushed his dad into the passenger seat, slammed the door, and then ran around and got behind the wheel.  She started the car and shot back in reverse, crashing into the frame of an old Buick, and then threw the shifter back into drive and tore out of the driveway as if the devil himself were chasing her.

Michael looked up at his mother and saw that tears were streaming down her face.

“You should have just let me shoot the old—”

“Be QUIET,” she snapped at him.  “Open up your shirt and let me take a look at you.”

“I’ll be fine, just keep driving.”

“NOW!” she screamed back.

“We got what we came for,” he said calmly while unbuttoning his shirt.  Michael scooted over to get a look, and saw that his father was covered in blood.  Four large claw marks were etched across his chest.

They rocketed back onto the paved highway and drove for a few minutes before his mother found a safe spot and pulled over.  The car skidded to a halt and she put the shifter into park, and then leaned over to take a good look at her wounded husband.

“My God, Mark, we need to get you to a hospital.”

“Just stay calm.  I’m going to be fine.  Michael, get the first aid kit out of the trunk.”

He was about to open the door when he heard the tires screech again and felt gravity pin him back into his seat.

“Don’t be ridiculous.  What are you going to do, put a band-aid on it?  I’m TAKING you to the hospital.”

“Fine, okay.  Just stay calm.  The roads are icy and getting us all killed in a car wreck isn’t going to help.”  He patted her on the leg.  “Look, the I-70 intersection is just up ahead, take us into Denver and get me to a hospital.”  This seemed to calm her a bit, but she continued to weep as they sped down the road.

Michael’s heart was pounding.  “Are you going to be alright, Dad?”

“I’ll be okay pal, don’t worry.  The cuts are long but they didn’t go deep enough to do any serious damage.  We just need to get them cleaned out so I don’t get an infection.”

“Who was that back there?  Who did you get in a fight with?”

Mark looked at his son and then back to his wife.  “That was your grandfather.”

“Grandfather?  I thought your dad was dead, Mom.”

She kept her eyes fixed on the road.  It took her a few moments to respond.  “I’m sorry I misled you,” she sobbed.  “It’s just that…well, he’s been dead to me for a long time now.  I never thought I’d have to see him again.  But this was just too important.  I had to come back.  I’m sorry you had to see all that.”  She sounded so miserable that he couldn’t feel anything but sympathy for her.

“It’s alright, Mom.  Are you going to be okay?”

She smiled at him in the rear view mirror.  Her eyes were puffy, and the tears continued to stream down her flushed cheeks.  “I’ll be fine.  I just need a little time.”

Michael smiled back at her, and rested his hand up on her shoulder.  The roar of the engine and the sobs of his mother filled his ears as they drove into Denver.

“ARMANDO,” screeched the old woman, “GET OUT HERE WITH YOUR FATHER’S RIFLE!”

Moments later, Armando shot out of the house like a rocket, the screen door snapping shut behind him.  “What is it now, Grandma?” he called to her, throwing up his hands in exasperation.  He simply could not get used to his grandmother reacting like this whenever she saw some unfamiliar form of wildlife, and his blood ran cold every time she started screaming like this.  He’d often complained to his mother that the neighbors were going to think someone in the family must have been getting murdered.

About six months earlier, Armando’s father, a police officer, had been killed in the line of duty.  Grandma Elena, his maternal grandmother, had moved from Los Angeles to be with her daughter’s family in Prescott, to support them and offer comfort.  For the most part, she did, unless some new creature that crept in from the forest behind the house was tormenting her.

“Calm down, Grandma,” he said, approaching her slowly.  “What’s the matter?”

“THERE, THERE IN THE TREE!  DON’T YOU SEE IT?”

Armando covered his ears.  “Grandma, pleeease stop screeching, you’re giving me a headache.”  He scanned the large ponderosa pine tree she was gaping at, and soon found her antagonizer.

“Hey, take a look at that.  It’s not much more than a baby.”

“What IS that THING?  A bobcat or something?”

“It’s a young mountain lion, a cougar,” Armando told her.  The cat looked down at them from a branch about fifteen feet off the ground.  Its brilliant blue eyes gazed back with curiosity.  “We see them around from time to time.”

A short, plump boy dressed as Spider-Man came waddling out of the house and ran up to join them.

“Francisco, get BACK!  That thing is DANGEROUS.”  Elena seized her grandson and pulled him in close, but not before he was able to get off a few shots of imaginary webbing.

Armando cringed.  “I’m begging you.  Please.  Stop.  Screaming.  I told you it’s just a young cougar.  It’s not going to hurt you.  Its mother might be someplace nearby though.  You’d better take the Cisco Kid and go back inside.  I’ll call Fish and Game, okay?”

Grandma Elena shooed the little superhero along through the backyard despite his protests, and the two of them disappeared into the house.

“Oh, thank God,” Armando said quietly as they went inside.  He rubbed his temples to ease his pounding head, and looked back up at the young lion.  Although it was a beautiful animal, he knew it was dangerous for a wild creature to come in so close like this.  If it grew used to people it would eventually prey on pets and maybe even children who lived in the neighborhood.  He didn’t want to see it hurt, but knew he needed to have someone come out and get it.

“She’s a real beauty,” came a voice from behind him.  Armando turned around to see that a small group of his neighbors had gathered to investigate what Grandma Elena was screaming about this time.  He knew her reactions had become a bit of an ongoing neighborhood joke, but at least that meant they were less likely to get the cops called on them.

The voice he’d heard belonged to the neighbor’s gardener, Wandering Bear, a tall Yavapai who was well known locally for his magical green thumb.

“Ooooh, she’s pretty,” said Sarah Axtell, a little girl who lived across the street.  “How can you tell it’s a female though?”

“I can see it in her eyes,” Wandering Bear explained.

“Alrighty then,” responded the girl unbelievingly.

Armando took out his phone.  “Let me call Fish and Game.  They’ll come and get it.”

“Oh, I don’t think there’s any need to do that,” said Wandering Bear calmly.  He walked over to the base of the tree and stared up at the young cat.  “Hello up there,” he told her.  “I don’t think this is a very safe place for you right now.  You had better come on down so I can take you out of here.”

The cat cocked her head at him, as if she might be considering what he’d just said, but she didn’t budge.

Sarah rolled her eyes at Cisco, who had snuck back out of the house and was pulling off his mask to get a better look.

“Come on down now, you know I’m not going to hurt you.  If the game warden comes he’ll shoot you in the butt with a tranquilizer dart.  You don’t want that, do you?”

Sarah leaned over to Cisco, who was looking on, wearing a dumb smile.  “I don’t think his elevator goes all the way to the top floor,” she told him.

Suddenly the cat got up to her feet, stretched out, and began to climb down.  Her claws dug into the pine as she moved headfirst down the trunk.  Then she hopped to the ground and sat at Wandering Bear’s feet, staring up at him.

Armando’s jaw dropped open.  “How…how exactly did you do that?”

Wandering Bear looked at him thoughtfully.

“I didn’t do anything.  She knows what is best for her.”  Then looking down at the lioness he said, “Come along.  I think it’s time to leave.”

He walked out to the road, the cat sauntering along behind him.  Upon reaching his truck, he opened up the passenger side door and the cat jumped up into the seat, sitting attentively and looking back at the small group of people who had followed them out to the sidewalk.  They watched Wandering Bear as he got into the truck.  He waved goodbye as he pulled away and started off down the road.

He hadn’t gotten far before he picked up his pipe from the dashboard and reached into his shirt pocket for some tobacco.  He carefully mashed a bit down while keeping his eyes on the road, and then lit the pipe, taking in a few sucks to get it going.

“You know, you really need to be more careful, Abigail.  If that boy had called a game warden it might not have been a tranq dart you’d get shot with.”

The little blonde girl sitting next to him crossed her arms.  “How did you know it was me?”

“Oh, like I told little Sarah, I saw it in your eyes.  What were you doing up in that tree anyway?”

“Wait a minute.  I don’t understand how you knew it was me.  You don’t look very concerned by the fact that I have the ability to change into a mountain lion.”

“Oh I’ve known for some time that your mother is a skin-walker.  It tends to run in the family.”

“What about you?  Can you change too?”

“Me?  No, I’m afraid the only thing I have the ability to change is my clothes.”

“Does my mom know that you know about her?”

“Sure she does.  I’m not some sort of peeping tom.  We gardeners get a bad rap.”  He winked at her.  “You didn’t answer my question though.  What were you doing up there in your neighbors’ tree?  You need to learn to be more careful.”

She shrugged.  “I didn’t mean to cause any trouble.  I just wanted to see if I could climb it.  It’s the tallest one around.”

He was quiet for a moment.  “Well, I can’t blame you for wanting to test your limits, but I strongly encourage you to be more discreet.  Not everyone is as kind as that boy who lives next to you.  Some other teenager might have blasted you right out of that tree.”

She nodded, but wore a pout on her lips.  Abigail had never been a fan of being reprimanded.

Wandering Bear circled the truck around and headed back toward home.

“You aren’t going to tell my mom about this are you?”

He looked at her with a raised eyebrow.  “No, I have no desire to try and get you into trouble, Abigail, but I’m sure if anyone would understand what you’re going through, it would be your mother.”

After a few minutes, the truck pulled up in front of the Belmont home, an old blue and white Victorian style house.  Abigail jumped out of the truck.  The neighbors were still standing out on the sidewalk talking about what they’d seen.

Armando ran up to them.  “Hey, what did you do with that cougar?” he asked excitedly.

“I dropped her off with a friend of mine.  She’s going to be reintroduced to the wild.”

“Hey that’s great.  It was really amazing what you did.  You’re just like Dr. Doolittle or something.”

The Cisco Kid tugged on Abigail’s sleeve. He had a mischievous look in his eyes.  “Abby, you missed something really cool.”  He recounted the whole story while following her along the sidewalk and up into her yard, and was still speaking when she opened the front door.

“Hey, where are you going?  You should stay out here with me and play.  I’ll get my Superman costume, and you can be Wonder-Woman, and we’ll pretend like Armando is trying to take over the city again.”

“That sounds like fun, Cisco, but I’m not feeling very well right now.  I think I’m just going to lie down and read or something.”

He looked disappointed.  “Oh, okay.  Well, let me know if you change your mind later.”

“Okay, bye.”  He was still waving and smiling expectantly as she shut the door on him.

She turned to find Elizabeth standing in the living room looking at her.  Her hands were on her hips and a broad smile spread across her face.  “I think that little boy really likes you.  He sure seems to follow you around everywhere.”

“Yeah, tell me about it.  He’s a pretty nice kid, but he gets a little annoying sometimes.”

“So where have you been? I’ve been looking for you for a half hour.  I thought we were going to make dinner together.”

“Oh, we are.  I’m sorry; I just got a little distracted.  There was a mountain lion in Cisco’s back yard.”

“A mountain lion?” she asked as if she hadn’t heard correctly.  “I don’t like the sound of that.  Do they usually come in this close?”

“Not very often.”

“Well did they get rid of the thing?”

Abigail nodded.  She suddenly felt self-conscious.

“Well, that’s good.”  Elizabeth smiled at her enthusiastically.  “So do you want to peel the potatoes or trim the fat off the chicken?”

Michael sat across from his mother at the little table in their hotel room.  They were finishing up some fried chicken they’d picked up before checking in.

His father had gotten out of the hospital and was now asleep in bed.  The doctor had wanted to admit him for the night, but he wouldn’t hear of it.  After being cleaned and checked out, he was bandaged up and instructed to watch carefully for signs of infection.

“What is this anyway?” the doctor had asked.  “It looks like you’ve been attacked by a bear.”

“I was, Doc.  Out in the woods.  A really nasty sucker.  Very territorial.”

The doctor kept pressing for more information, but his answers were comical and evasive.  Eventually the doctor just gave up and treated the injury.

Looking across the table at his mother, Michael was relieved to see that she’d finally calmed down, but despite her smiles she still looked sad.  He noticed every time she tried to wipe the occasional tear away, hoping he wouldn’t see, and he didn’t let on that he did.

“So, Mom, what exactly was it that you wanted to pick up from…from your er, father?”

For a moment she looked stunned, but then attempted another smile.

“To tell you the truth, I’m surprised that we found him alive.  I thought that he’d have drank himself to death a long time ago.”

She paused for a while, and looked off into the distance as if she was replaying the past in her mind.  Michael just waited for her patiently.

She turned to him, snapping back into the present.  “As for what we were after,” she said, reaching into her jacket pocket, “we came to find this.”  She pulled out an old tarnished amulet.  It wasn’t a very pretty thing, but it did look interesting.  It looked to be made of iron, and was fixed to a heavy chain.  In its center was a gray stone.

“This belonged to your great-grandmother, Aileen Stewart.  She was an Irish immigrant, and brought this to America when she came.”

Michael stared at the amulet as though he were missing something.  “That’s, ah, very nice,” he said clumsily, not quite understanding why his parents had put themselves in danger to obtain such a thing.

His mother seemed to know what he was thinking.  “When I was a very young girl, about six years old, my grandmother gave this to me.  She said it was a very important artifact.  She said it was invaluable, and told me that I needed to protect it, and never tell anyone I had it.”

Michael looked confused.  He was about to say something, but his mother went on.

“I decided to bury this amulet to keep it safe.  One of my friends had given me a time capsule for my birthday, so I put it in, and started digging a hole in the forest behind our house.  Then my father found out what I was doing.  He was infuriated that I had hidden the amulet from him.  He told me that my grandmother was an insane old woman and I shouldn’t be concerned with anything she had to say.  He took the amulet away from me and…punished me, for what I’d done.”  Tears began running down her soft, red cheeks once again.

“But you didn’t do anything wrong,” Michael protested angrily.

“Well, as you’ve seen from what happened to your dad, my father is not what you would call a reasonable person.”

“But why did you go back for it, what’s so special about this thing.  I mean, no offense or anything, but it kind of just looks like an old piece of junk.”

“That’s possible,” she told him with a smile.  “Then again, what if my grandmother was right?  You know that we’ve been searching for answers about our family.  What if this amulet has something to do with where we come from?”

Michael shrugged, considering what she’d said, but he still felt doubtful.

“Can I take a look at it?” he asked her.  She nodded and handed it to him.

Michael looked the trinket over.  The iron was pitted, and a bit rusty.  The unimpressive gray stone was held in place by an iron bird’s talon, and was about the size of a golf ball.  All things considered, he didn’t see anything special about it.

“Michael,” his mother said softly, “what’s that?”  He thought she was looking at the amulet, but as he followed her eyes, realized she was actually gazing at the ring upon his left hand, the ring that Anubis had given him down in the necropolis, which was now glowing softly.  He hadn’t seen it do this since the day of Anubis’s death, and as he looked into the ring’s blue stone, he saw something like brilliant clouds swirling around inside.  A soft blue light began to drift out of the ring, only to be absorbed by the amulet’s stone, causing it to glow as well.

Michael’s mother looked on in amazement.  She grinned cautiously, but then noticed that her son was beginning to sag in his chair.  His head had gone limp and he looked as though he were fainting.  She jumped up and whipped the amulet out of his hand, casting it off onto the carpet near the bathroom.  Then she bent down on one knee to examine him.

“Hey, are you alright?” she said frantically, giving him a gentle shake.

He shot his eyes back open and gawked at her.  “Yeah, I’m fine.  I’m okay.”

She pulled her chair up close and sat down next to him, looking him over carefully just to make sure.  “What was that all about?” she asked accusingly.

“I don’t know.  I was just…drifting off, kind of like being woken up from a dream, but in reverse.”

She frowned at him suspiciously.  “What did you see?”

He eyed her seriously.  “A little girl in a dark green dress.  I mean, I was seeing it through her eyes.  She stooped to the grass and picked up a gray chunk of stone, just like the one in the amulet, then got up and began to run.”

“You were seeing it through her eyes?  Just like you did when you saw through Anubis’s eyes?”

“No, it was different.  With Anubis, I knew what he was thinking; it was like I’d become him.  This was more like, well, like I was just watching what was happening, but through the girl’s eyes.  It only lasted a few seconds though, and it was a little confusing.”

She made a thoughtful sigh and crossed her arms over her chest.

“Hand me the amulet and I’ll try it again,” Michael told her.

“WHAT?” she yelled.  Her husband stirred, moaning softly as he turned over in bed.  She quieted back down to a loud whisper.  “Not a chance, young man, not until we know that it’s safe.”

Michael was about to protest, but she immediately cut him off.  “I said no, and I meant it.  I’m not going to put you in any risk just to try and get a few answers.  Not unless we’re sure that it’s safe.  In fact, I want you to take off that ring and give it to me right now.”

He frowned at her in disbelief, and sighed indignantly.

“I mean now, mister.  I’m not taking it away from you for good, but I think there are some things your father and I need to figure out first.”

He huffed in protest, but put his fingers on the ring and began to pull.

“Mom, it won’t come off.”

Her eyes narrowed and she pursed her lips.  The ring had been too big for Michael’s finger ever since he’d gotten it, and she had even helped him wrap a Band-Aid around it to get it to stay on his finger.  “Let me see,” she demanded.

“OUCH,” he yipped as she yanked frantically.  She calmed back down when Mark turned over in bed again, letting out a painful moan.  Michael rubbed his hand and looked her over accusingly.

“All right,” she said with a heavy breath, “but I’m going to get some butter later and get that thing off of you.”  She said it a bit apprehensively, like she might doubt it would work.

“Mom, look,” he whispered to her, pointing down to the amulet, which was still resting on the carpet.  “What is that?”

She sat up straight, examining the amulet with amazement.  A Celtic triple spiral had appeared on the surface of the gray stone, glowing with a bright blue light.

CHAPTER TWO

Jumping to Conclusions

Elizabeth Harrison sat on a bench in the gazebo, watching people as they passed by her in every direction.  She took a long sip of her Chai tea.  It had been too hot to drink when she’d bought it a few minutes ago at the Hotel St. Michael across the street, but pretty soon it would be too cold.

Two teenage couples passed in front of her.  The girls were talking and giggling while their boyfriends tried to look cool.  Three small children cornered their father beneath one of the tall, lit-up trees, pelting him with snowballs.  Elizabeth laughed, covering her mouth with a gloved hand so he wouldn’t notice.  This was such a great spot to come people watching.

Elizabeth had always thought Prescott was beautiful during winter.  It had become a tradition for her to come and enjoy the courthouse Christmas lighting every year, and she’d often thought how nice it would be to come and live here.  Now she’d finally gotten away from the big city atmosphere of Phoenix, and until this moment she hadn’t realized how happy she was about it.

The trees around the courthouse square twinkled with lights of every color, creating a feeling of warmth that somehow seemed to help keep the cold at bay.  Well, most of the cold anyway.  Elizabeth stood up and shuffled her feet back and forth, trying to shake off the chill she’d gotten from sitting still too long.  She heard a snowball whiz past, barely missing her head.

“Sorry about that,” a little girl said guiltily as she ran past chasing a laughing boy.

Elizabeth gave her a forgiving wave and stepped down from the gazebo.

She scanned the crowd for Rachel.  Her best friend had many admirable qualities, but punctuality wasn’t one of them.  Walking over and stopping beneath the statue of a man on a horse, she pulled out her phone to see if she’d missed any calls.  She hadn’t.

“Come on, Rachel,” she mumbled to herself.  “It’s too darn cold for me to be waiting around for you again.”

She began to type a text message to her friend, but was interrupted by a loud commotion somewhere behind her.  Turning around, she saw a man lying on the ground near the statue.  He’d slipped and landed face first in the snow, and a number of presents were scattered around nearby.

“Oh, oh no.  Are you alright?” she asked while stooping to help him up.

“Thank you,” he smiled and wiped the snow from his face, stooping to retrieve his top hat.  The man was wearing a long blue waistcoat with lapels, and looked like he’d just stepped out of a Charles Dickens novel.

“Nice clothes,” she said, a bit more sarcastically than she’d intended.

He momentarily looked at her in confusion.  “Oh these, how silly of me.  Of course.  Still a bit stunned from that fall I’m afraid.”

Elizabeth thought she detected an accent in his voice, but it wasn’t quite pronounced enough to place.

“I was singing with a group of carolers earlier this evening.  We were all dressed as characters from A Christmas Carol.”

She began to help him pick up the scattered presents.

“I would’ve liked to have heard that.  I love listening to carolers.”  She handed him the last present along with a warm smile.  “By the way, sorry about that snippy comment just now, it didn’t come out quite right.”

“No need to apologize, I do look rather odd tonight.”

Now that she was finally getting a good look at him, she noticed how handsome he was.  He was younger than she’d thought as well.  The old fashioned clothing had given him a mature appearance, but now she guessed that he was in his mid-thirties or so.

“No, you don’t look odd at all.  You look really…really great.”  She could have kicked herself at the dumb way she’d said it.

“Thank you,” he said with a tip of his top hat.

“So, where are you off to with all these presents?  Are they props are something?”

“Oh, I’m just on my way to drop these off for the Christmas Angel Program.  I picked a few of the children's names off the tree and did a little shopping.”

“You really are right out of a Dickens novel aren’t you?”

“I’m sorry?” he asked.

“I’m Elizabeth, by the way.”

“Mihnea,” he said while taking her hand.  “A great pleasure to meet you.”  They locked eyes and smiled for a few long moments.

“So, where exactly are you taking those?” she asked, pointing to the presents.

“I was told to look for a man named Buckey O’Neill.  You wouldn’t happen to know him would you?”

Elizabeth giggled.  “Actually, you met him yourself a few moments ago.”  She pointed up behind him.

“The statue?”

She nodded.  “I don’t think he’ll be able to help you though, since he was killed in the Spanish-American war over a hundred years ago.”

“Oh,” he said looking disappointed and a little confused.  “Well, what about the horse?”

“The horse?”

“Did he die in the war too, or can I ask him for directions?”

“I’m not sure about what happened to the horse, but take a look over there.”  She pointed to a table with a Christmas Angel sign a few dozen feet away near the steps of the courthouse building.

“Can’t believe I missed that.  But to be honest my eyes were on, er, something else when I tripped.”  He looked at her shyly, but her smile only broadened.

“Maybe after I drop these boxes off I could buy you a hot cup of coffee?” he asked her hopefully.

“Actually, I’m meeting a friend of mine tonight,” she told him.  “In fact, she’s already fifteen minutes late.”

He looked disappointed, and it made Elizabeth feel strangely guilty.

“But I’m free tomorrow night,” she said quickly.

“Oh, well I’ll be working tomorrow,” he said.  “But I’d love you to come by and see me anyway.  Wait here just a moment.”

He traipsed over to the table where a few people greeted him with broad smiles to receive the presents.  They offered him hot cocoa and cookies, but he politely declined and hurried back to Elizabeth.  He took a business card from his pocket and handed it to her.

“Here you are.”

“The Blue Danube, fine dining,” she read.  “You work at a restaurant?”

“I’m the owner.  Our grand opening was only two weeks ago.  Have you heard of it?”

“No, but it sounds intriguing.  I’d love to come by.”

“I’ll have a table waiting for us.  Will seven o’clock be alright?”

She nodded and gave him an excited smile.  “Here’s my cell phone number in case something comes up.”  She took out a pen and scribbled it down for him.

“I look forward to it.”  He took her hand and gave it a gentle kiss.

As they said goodbye, she felt an excitement that she hadn’t known for a long time.  Mihnea had been so handsome and charming, maybe she was finally meeting the right man for her.  No, she reminded herself.  Just take things really slowly.  Don’t build it up in your mind before it happens.

“What have you been up to?” Rachel asked her a few minutes later as she popped up out of the crowd.  Elizabeth had an impish smile on her face, but Rachel had expected her to be waiting with a frown, ready to give her an ear-full for her tardiness.

“Me?  Nothing.”  She couldn’t contain her happiness though.  She took her friend’s arm and led her toward the crosswalk.  “I met someone a few minutes ago.  We’re going out tomorrow night.”

“Wow, that’s great.  You’ll have to tell me about it over pizza.”

The little pixelated man on the traffic light began to flash and they crossed the street.

“Do you really think you’ll be able to handle two nights out in a row though?”

“Very funny.” Elizabeth stuck out her tongue.  “And guess what, I hate to break the news to you, but you’re buying again tonight.”

“What?  I thought the rule was over twenty minutes late?”

“Check your watch for a clue Nancy Drew.  It’s nearly eight o’clock.”

“Ouch.  I really am sorry.”  She gave her friend a squeeze and looked at her with puppy dog eyes.

“Well, that’s okay.  It actually turned out for the best this time.  Besides, I never could stay mad at you for long.”

Mark Belmont was ambushed by his wife the second he walked through the front door.

“Well, what did the doctor say?” she asked him nervously.

“He said everything looks fine.  There are no signs of infection, I just need to keep the wounds clean and be careful about putting too much stress on the stitches.”

She let out a sigh of relief, and he could see the guilt, sadness and love in her eyes as she reached to embrace him.

“Careful,” he warned her, but it hadn’t been necessary.  “Look, I don’t want you to blame yourself for this.  I’m going to be fine, and it wasn’t your fault.”

“But….”

“No,” he said firmly, putting his finger to her bottom lip and drawing it down until it bounced back against her teeth.  She made a half embarrassed, half irritated smile.  “No, it wasn’t in any way your fault.  That man has caused enough pain in your life without laying any guilt on you for this.  Besides, this isn’t my first battle scar you know.”

He squeezed her as tightly as he dared and wouldn’t let go until she promised not to let it bother her anymore, although he knew it would.  He hoped he’d at least made her feel a little better about it.

“Now,” he said softly, “are you ready to confront your daughter?”

She nodded.  “I suppose we’d better tackle her together while we have the chance.”

Abigail was sitting at the kitchen table reading a book when her parents walked in and sat down across from her.

Her father folded his hands and stared at her.  “So, this morning before I left, your mother and I heard an interesting story from Rose Dominguez next door.  It seems they had a young mountain lion up in one of the ponderosa pines behind their house.  It scared the heck out of her mother Elena.”

Abigail raised her eyes from the book and met him in a mad-dog stare, but didn’t say anything.

“You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?”

She shrugged, her eyes suspiciously defiant.

The phone rang, and her mother shook her head in exasperation before getting up to answer it.

“So,” her father went on, “Armando told Michael the whole story.  Turns out Wandering Bear has some pretty amazing connections with nature.  You know anything about that?”

She batted her eyelashes sweetly and smiled.

“Well, Michael is now under the impression that Wandering Bear is some kind of supernatural medicine-man or something.  How long do you plan on keeping this little secret of yours from him?”

“He won’t understand,” she came back quickly.  “He’s going to be mad at me because it hasn’t happened to him yet.”

“Abby, you know that your brother may never get the ability to change his form.  Your mom told you that it doesn’t always get passed on.  You need to tell him what’s going on, and let the chips fall where they may.”

She looked at him doubtfully.

“Michael has always loved you very much.  I don’t think you have anything to worry about.  Have a little faith in him.”

She hung her head and sucked her teeth nervously.  “I do.  I just…I’m not quite ready to tell him yet, okay?”

“Fine,” he said.  “But the longer you wait, the harder it’s going to be.”

She kept looking down at the table, and let out a heavy sigh.

“Hey,” said her mother coming back from the phone, “that was Rose Dominguez.  She said Francisco is in the hospital with a broken leg.  Apparently he jumped off the roof of their house.”

Mark shifted in his chair to look at her.  “Really?  That’s awful.  Is there anything we can do for them?”

“Well, Cisco is asking to see Abby.  He’s not telling anybody why he jumped, and says he won’t talk to anyone but her.”

Abigail looked back and forth between her parents pleadingly, letting out an annoyed moan and trying to read their confused faces.  They just stared at her.  It was obvious that she was going to have to pay a visit to the Cisco Kid.

“Thank you so much for coming,” Rose Dominguez sobbed as Rachel embraced her in a hug.  “I just don’t know why Francisco is acting like this.  Ever since his father died he’s been driving me crazy with all this super-hero nonsense, but every time I threaten to take his costumes and comics away he goes crazy.”

They sat down together on the waiting room couch.

“Has he said anything yet about why he did it?” Mark asked.

“No, he jumped all the way from the roof, two stories up.  I asked him if he actually believes he can fly, but he said he only wants to speak to Abby about it.”

Abigail looked back at her like a deer in the headlights.

“Thank you for coming to speak to him, dear.  He thinks of you as his best friend.  When you talk to him, just try to find out why he did it.  Find out for me if he really is…really is…CRAZY!”  With this, Cisco’s mother burst into tears.  Abigail cringed.

“Do you want me to go in there with you?” Michael offered.

Abigail shook her head.  “He only wanted to see me.  He might not talk if you’re in there too.”

“Well, good luck then.”

“Thanks,” she mumbled.

“Come on, sweetie,” Rose told her, “I’ll take you to his room.”

They walked down the hallway and entered Cisco’s room.  It was dark and a bit cold.  The boy was laying in bed, a sling holding up the large cast around his leg.  He was wearing a Superman costume that he’d obviously outgrown some time ago, and his plump brown belly could be seen peeking out just below the large red S on his chest.  His cape was hung from the foot of the bed.

Grandma Elena was sitting beside the bed feeding him spoonfuls of ice cream.

“Francisco, look who’s come to see you.  It’s your friend Abigail,” his mother told him.

The boy’s face instantly lit up.  “ABBY,” he shouted in delight.

Elena got up and stooped to give the girl a kiss on her forehead.  “See if you can figure out what’s going on in that loco head of his, dear.”

Rose and Elena slipped out of the room, shutting the door behind them.

“That looks like it hurts,” Abigail sympathized, examining his cast.  Although Cisco sometimes got on her nerves, she liked him, and was sorry to see him like this.

“Oh, it hurts all right, but that doesn’t matter right now.  Hey, I’ve really been wanting to talk to you about something.  Can you hand me my notebook off the table over there?”

She nodded and retrieved it for him.

“Your mom said you wouldn’t talk to anyone about why you jumped off the roof, Cisco.  What’s going on with you?  Were you trying to kill yourself or something?”

First he looked stunned.  Then he laughed.  “Kill myself?  Why would I want to do that?”  He opened up his notebook and began to shuffle through some papers, finally retrieving the one he wanted and unfolding it.

“So…you don’t really think you can fly or something do you?”

He frowned at her disapprovingly.

“Abby, only super heroes can fly.  Normal people like me can’t do that.”  He said it as if she were the one that needed to be convinced.

She began to tap her foot impatiently.  “Then what were you doing up on the roof?”

“I was trying to summon Hawk-Lady,” he told her longingly.

“Hawk-Lady?”

He held up the paper.  It was a comic, showing a woman changing into a hawk.  Abigail’s jaw dropped.  It was obviously her mother.

“I climbed up there and called for her, pretending that I was about to jump off, but then I accidentally lost my footing and, well that’s when I fell off the roof.  Hawk-Lady never showed up to help me though.”

Abigail wanted to change the subject.  “So…you didn’t jump after all.  That’s a relief.”

“No, I wouldn’t do something like that, Abby.”  He laughed at the absurdity of it.

Abigail laughed along with him, but it was a forced, nervous laughter.

“Hey, Abby,” he suddenly looked very serious, “does your mom have super strength?”

She felt her stomach tighten.  “What are you talking about Cisco?”

“Your mom, Hawk-Lady.  I mean, I know she doesn’t have super hearing, because she didn’t hear me call to her from the roof, but if I’m going to finish my comic book about her I’m going to need to know about the rest of her powers.”

Abigail was too flabbergasted to speak; she just frowned and shook her head at him.

“Don’t bother denying it, I’ve seen her change a couple of times now.”  He scratched his chin contemplatively.  “Hey, do you think she’d let me be her sidekick?  I mean, I don’t have any powers, but I know just about everything there is to know about heroes and villains.  I could really help her out you know.”

“Cisco listen, you can’t tell anybody about this, okay?  You have to —”

“Oh, I’d never do that, Abby, not even if they tortured me.”  He said this so deathly serious that she wanted to laugh.  It also made her believe him.

“Listen, I’ll talk to her about it, okay, but don’t get your hopes up.  Just don’t fall off of any more rooftops.  What are you going to tell your mom about what happened?”

“I’ll tell her the truth, that it was an accident.  I’ll tell her I saw a hawk up there and went up to look for it.  But don’t worry, I won’t mention anything about Hawk-Lady.”

“Alright,” she allowed him a smile.  “Listen, when are you going to be able to come home?”

“I think they’re only holding me here to see if I’m nuts, they’ll probably send me home once they figure out I’m not crazy.”

“So it might be a while then?” she said under her breath.

Cisco looked confused.

“Well, let me know when you get home and I’ll come over and visit, okay.”

“Great.  Hey don’t forget to ask your mom for me, alright.”

“I will,” she said, opening the door.  “Take care.”

He waved enthusiastically as she left the room.

Everyone was waiting eagerly for Abigail when she returned.

“What did he say to you,” pleaded Rose, “Is he crazy?  Was he trying to fly?”

“No, he isn’t crazy.  It was just an accident, he wasn’t trying to fly.  He was looking for a bird and lost his footing.”

“Well, why didn’t he just tell us that?” Elena asked her daughter in frustration.

“I think,” broke in Abby, “I think he was just too embarrassed.  Maybe he thinks you’ll be mad at him or something.”

The two women shot off down the hall to confront Cisco.

“Thanks for coming down you guys,” Armando said as he followed the Belmonts to the elevator.  “I’m sorry about my little brother.  He sure is a weirdo sometimes.”

They told him not to mention it, and to call if the family needed anything, and then got into the elevator.  When the door closed, Abby’s mother turned to face her.

“So what in the world was that all about?”

“Well, Hawk-Lady,” she said with a smirk, “I think we may have just found you a new sidekick!”

CHAPTER THREE

The Wolves Ate My Homework

Michael’s parents had made the decision to have him and Abigail educated at home.  They hoped this would give the family more time together and provide the children more opportunities to have hands-on learning experiences.  Their parents would often have to travel and work away from home, but now they could bring the children along more easily and see the world together as a family.

Elizabeth Harrison had accepted the role of the children’s private tutor.  She could travel with the family and see to it that Michael and Abigail got a consistent education.  Elizabeth was a good teacher, but she was strict.  She took the children’s grades seriously, and didn’t let them get away with shirking their work.

As the cold days of winter passed, Elizabeth was pushing hard for the children to complete their assignments so they could enjoy a nice long break after Christmas.

Christmas was now just two days away, and Michael breathed a sigh of relief as he wrote the last few words of his final assignment.  He went downstairs to see how Abigail was coming along.  She was watching television when he walked through the door with his school folder in hand.  “Abby, have you got your story finished yet?”

“I got it done yesterday,” she told him blankly.

“Well, you’d better go over it one more time because if it’s not up to Aunt Liz’s standards she’ll be after you for a re-write the day after Christmas.”

“I already did.  Would you get out of here until my show’s over, you’re worse than Mom.”  She waved the remote in front of him and made a spectacle of turning the volume way up.

Michael left the room and went to the kitchen where he found Elizabeth sitting by the window enjoying a book and a hot cup of tea.

“Aunt Liz, I’ve got my poem ready.  Abigail says she’s all finished with her story too.”

Elizabeth smiled excitedly.  “Oh good.  Tell her to get her butt in here right now so we can wrap things up.”

“But she’s watching television,” he said, feigning protest.  Elizabeth gave him a stern grin.  “Alright, alright, I’ll go and get her.”  He walked to the door of the living room.  “ABBY, Elizabeth says to get in here right now so we can finish up our assignments.”  She opened her mouth to object.  “NO, NOW,” Michael yelled with a smile.

Abigail jumped to her feet and clicked the television off.  “You did that on purpose,” she spat at him as they entered the kitchen.  She swung at him, but he dodged toward the refrigerator and shrugged at her innocently.

“Alright, calm down,” Elizabeth told them.  “Do you want to read your own papers or switch and read each others?”

“I kind of like reading them for each other,” Abigail said.  “It’s a little less embarrassing that way.”  She'd always been shy about reading her own work aloud.

“Fine,” Michael told her.  “Just don’t try and make mine sound stupid like you did the last time or we’ll each read our own from now on.  Got it?”

She grimaced, but nodded in agreement.

“Okay.  Michael, why don’t you read Abby’s first.”  Elizabeth handed each of them the other person’s paper.

Michael cleared his throat, and began.

My Kingdom For a Horse

By Abigail Belmont

There once was a king who was very kind but also very stupid.  His subjects all loved him and admired his kindness, but they sometimes wished he were a little smarter when it came to making important decisions that effected the kingdom.  Oftentimes the members of his court would laugh behind his back at his odd behavior.

One of his courtiers, Duke Ironside, was a shrewd man with a cruel sense of humor.  He decided he’d had enough of the king’s foolishness and set out to have some fun with him.

Now, every night at dinner, the king enjoyed telling stories until all of his guests were at the end of their wits with boredom.  Everyone got in the habit of enjoying their meal and then coming up with reasons for the king to excuse them before they became the last one stuck at the table.  But this time the duke made sure everyone else left before he did.

“Your Highness,” he said after the queen had departed for bed, “isn’t it true that each dinner guest must ask Your Majesty’s permission to depart the table?”

“Oh yes, quite right.  But you already know that,” laughed the king.

“But Your Majesty,” the duke went on, “I don’t understand, if one can only leave the table by your permission, then who can dismiss you?”

The king looked confused.  “Well,” he said with a scratch of his head, “we guess we don’t know.  We’ve never thought of that before.”

The duke asked to be excused, and left the king at the table.  He sat there until morning trying to work out this problem, unable to leave, as there was no one capable of excusing him.

When it was time for breakfast, the queen came back and found her poor, dim-witted husband sitting exactly where she’d left him the night before.  She tried to reason with him and explain the foolishness of his predicament, but he would not listen to her.  He was convinced the duke was right.  How would he ever be able to leave the table if there was no one to excuse him?

Later that day, the duke returned.  He chuckled maniacally to himself at the king’s naivety, and sat down beside him pretending to sympathize.  Suddenly the duke thought of a brilliant solution.  “Your Majesty, if you can not leave the dinner table, then why not take the dinner table with you?”

The king looked confused.  “Whatever do you mean?”

The duke sent his young page down to the stables, and then explained his plan to the king.  When the page returned, he gave the duke a feedbag, who promptly strung it around the king’s neck and helped him fasten it.  The king was well pleased.

When the queen found her husband in the garden eating his lunch from the feedbag she was livid.  She knew at once that this had to be the work of Duke Ironside.

“He has made you out to be an ass, first in deed and now in dress,” she told him furiously.  The king was convinced of the man’s loyalty however, and tried to calm his wife.

She realized that he wasn’t going to listen, and so, devised a plan to take revenge on the duke and the other members of court who had mocked her husband.

“Perhaps you are right, my dear,” she told him sweetly.  “But why not allow the members of your court to enjoy this luxury as well?  Hold a banquet tonight and provide feedbags for everyone.  You can give Duke Ironside the place of honor and explain to everyone that they have him to thank for their new dining arrangements.”

The king’s eyes lit up as he envisioned the glorious feast; his entire court would soon be enjoying dinner from their feedbags.

“Now don’t let anyone tell you they are unworthy of this honor.  Your people are humble and good, and we both know how much they deserve this.”

And so, later that night at the banquet, everyone in court was given their own feedbag, and the king insisted they be worn from that point on.  The duke was immediately held in contempt by his fellow courtiers, who blamed him for the ridiculous situation, and rightly so.

Enraged, the duke fled the country to carry all the king’s secrets to the ears of the their greatest enemy, a warmongering emperor who was eagerly awaiting a chance to invade the king’s land.  However, the duke was unaware that the queen had sent spies to track his movements and apprehend him if he proved disloyal.  They captured the traitor and returned him in chains, but not before he had betrayed the king’s secrets.

Now the queen had a real problem.  The emperor’s troops outnumbered her husband’s three to one, and they would be arriving soon.  She quickly came up with a plan to drive off the invaders.

“My dear husband,” she told the king.  “You have always been so kind and just to your loyal subjects, yet there is one group whom you have failed to honor for all their hard work and loyalty.”

The king was greatly concerned.  “Your words wound us, my queen.  Please tell me who these subjects are, that I might throw them a banquet here in court to honor them.”

“Oh good husband and oh the delight of my eyes,” she said to him, for he loved to be flattered, “I find your goodness touching my heart once again.  I speak of the horses- so hard working and loyal.  I find only justice in your desire to reward them.”

For a moment he looked as though he may not buy it, but then his broad, dumb smile told her that all was well.

The queen then promptly sent out two horses, upon which she had appointed two riders.  The first rider was Duke Ironside.  Now the queen had begged the duke for forgiveness that her men had brought him back in chains, and had him dressed in fine new clothes and gave him a large sack of gold for his trouble.  He rode off whistling with many happy thoughts of how he might spend his new-found fortune, and laughing for the belief that the queen was just as stupid as her husband.

The second horse bore a man who had won the queen’s favor as the most talented mummer in the kingdom.  He had the wonderful talent of throwing his voice and tickling his horse to make it appear that the beast was speaking.  The queen gave him words and sent him out to greet the emperor.

Now as the emperor approached the castle with his army, he first met the duke on the road.  “You there,” he said.  “You disappeared from my court rather quickly without a word after betraying your own king, and now I find you here riding off from his castle all dressed in fine clothes with a bag full of gold?  Explain yourself!”  Of course the man had no good explanation and so, the emperor detained him.

Next the army came upon the mummer, riding carefree directly into the face of an invading army.  “What’s this, then?” the emperor called to him, “what kind of a man are you who has no fear at the sight of an invading army?”

But to the emperor’s astonishment, it was not the man, but the steed that answered.  “This one has learned not to speak without permission, lest I kick his teeth in for him,” the horse said.  “But why should my people fear you?  They easily conquered the men of this land, and shall do the same to you if you challenge them.”

“Do you mean to say that this land has been conquered by horses?” the emperor gasped.  “But where are you off to then?”

“I grow weary of my king’s brutality,” the horse told him.  “I’ve always been rather fond of men, except for this idiot slave upon my back, who wouldn’t know a good speck of hay from a horehound.  At any rate, I’m off to our native land where I need not see these poor beasts tortured and killed for sport.  If you must continue on with your army, then good luck to you.  Enjoy drawing breath while you can.”  With this the horse trotted off down the road.

Now the emperor was very superstitious, and the idea of a war with speaking horse-lords terrified him.  He sent four scouts ahead to the castle, who soon came back to report that the people wandered around with feedbags while the horses feasted in court.  The emperor promptly took his army and fled the land, and executed Duke Ironside for deceiving him.

As for the king and queen, they lived happily ever after, and nobody in the land ever played a trick on the king again.

Michael laughed as he finished reading the paper.  Abigail had an embarrassed smirk on her face, which was turning redder by the second.

“I really liked it, Abby,” Michael told her.  “I don’t know where you get some of your ideas.”

“It was great,” Elizabeth told her.  “You should write a whole book of stories like that someday.  It would be a best seller.”

Abigail beamed at them.

“Okay, now it’s time for Michael’s story,” she told the girl.

“I wrote a poem,” Michael protested.  “Make sure you get the rhythm down, Abby, otherwise it won’t sound right.”

She rolled her eyes at him, but was still smiling from their compliments.  “Okay, just give me a minute.”  She read through the poem silently for a few moments before giving them a nod.  “Okay, I’m ready to start.”

Doctor Diablo

By Michael Belmont

Dr. Diablo was rare to be seen,

His ways underhanded, nefarious and mean.

He worked from the shadows, concocting his plans

And then would unleash them by shrewd slight of hand.

One day he concocted a marvelous scheme,

To unravel his victim’s good works and great deeds.

He at once got to work in his secret location,

And built a machine that emits odd vibrations.

A craft that would guide him to places in time,

And allow him to tinker with all of mankind,

For those he selected he sought to destroy

With only his words, just his voice to employ.

Young Leo Da Vinci he first went to meet,

A boy of eight years with a smile he did greet,

But viewing the painting in front of the lad

He contorted his face to a frown, hard and sad.

“Why my stupid young fellow”, he said with a laugh,

“What is your intention, creating such drab?

Your dimensions are skewed and your colors ill chosen.

How picked you this craft? Why your brain must be frozen!”

And other such insults he planted within

As tears ran down young cheeks, his dreams dying within.

And never again would he lift up his hand,

Except to dig hole, or break rock upon land.

Delighted at how his plan shaped into form,

The doctor waved and departed to do it once more.

But where off to next, to continue his fun?

Upon scratching his chin he said “George Washington.”

He found this young man with a friend playing chess

And examined the board with a frown sore depressed.

He patted young George on the shoulder and back,

And then clapped his hands with a startling slap.

“This men's game of war is quite wasted on you,

For to plan and to strategize, you cannot do.

Perhaps your grandmother could teach you her knitting?

Your brain is too dumb for a martial committing!”

He cackled while climbing back in his machine.

A broken young man he left, fleeing the scene.

He pushed in his buttons and pulled on his levers,

And warped on through time to continued endeavors.

He practiced his schemes throughout time and season,

To some it might seem without purpose or reason,

But sword he drew not, neither fired he a missile,

The results of his evil works made him give whistle.

Many other ideas, hopes, and dreams did he wrangle,

With the power of words these small seeds would he strangle.

Earhart, King Jr., Einstein robbed of vision,

World history shattered through deadly precision.

In truth, Dr. Diablo is only a vapor,

A villain who simply exists upon paper,

But put your own actions and words to a mirror

And ensure that through you Diablo isn’t much nearer.

Abigail and Michael both received an A for their papers, and finally, after several months of hard work, they were free.

Eight inches of snow had fallen the night before, and some of the neighborhood children were still outside having a snowball fight.  Michael and Abigail bundled themselves up and headed out the door.  They wanted to hurry before it got dark, as the sun would be setting soon.

By the time they got outside, the snowball fight had finished, but a few houses away in Sarah Axtell’s yard, they saw a large snowman being constructed, and decided to go and help.

As they passed the Dominguez house, they noticed the Cisco Kid waving frantically out the front window.  It was obvious that he wanted them to come over for a visit, but Abby had been trying to avoid him, because he was always grilling her about her mother.  He’d become obsessed with the idea that she was a super-hero.

Abigail swept a few strands of hair from her eyes and adjusted her stocking cap, looking at her brother defensively.  “There’s no way I’m going over there to watch TV with him while everyone else is outside playing in the snow.”

Michael shrugged.  He couldn’t blame her.  They both waved to Cisco and kept on walking.  He gazed back at them with sad, puppy-dog eyes.

“Hi, Michael,” Sarah said cheerfully as they walked into her yard.  Her fiery red hair contrasted a bit with her matching winter clothing, which was pink.  She ran over and took his arm, leading him to the snowman.  “It’s so nice to see you.  Wanna help with the snowman?  Becky said we should name him George Bailey,” she chuckled.

Abigail sneered.  She had been Sarah's friend for years, but it seemed like every time they saw her lately she was more interested in talking to Michael.  She was always trying to impress him, and it got a little bit annoying.

Abigail took a look around.  Armando and Sarah’s brother Bill were building igloo bricks.  Both of these boys were fifteen years old, but unlike some of the bigger kids, they had always been nice to the younger children in the neighborhood.

Two more of Abby’s friends, Becky and Samantha, were there as well.  These girls were about the same age as her and Sarah.  They were pushing a row of rocks in for George Bailey’s teeth.

“Hey, Abby,” Bill called to her, reaching into his pocket.  He tossed her a corncob pipe.  “I got that from my dad’s office.”

Abby smiled thankfully and ran over to put it in the snowman’s mouth.

Michael stood with Sarah next to the snowman, watching the girls work on it when a strange movement down the road caught his eye- a large dog, perhaps?  No, it was a wolf, a white wolf, walking swiftly through the front yard of his own house.  It disappeared around the side, headed toward the back yard.  How very odd.

“Excuse me for a moment,” he said to Sarah, who was in the middle of telling him about a new singer she’d seen on TV the night before.  She was obviously perturbed as Michael trudged off down the sidewalk toward his house.

When he got back to his yard, he looked for the wolf’s tracks in the snow, but there were none to be found.  That’s impossible, Michael thought to himself.  That wolf was huge!

He crept around the side of the building, moving cautiously as he didn’t know where the creature was, and definitely didn’t want to startle it.  But as he went on, he still couldn’t find any tracks.  Reaching the back of the house, he carefully peered around the corner.

Finally, he spotted the wolf.  But this wasn’t the white wolf he’d seen a few moments before.  This one was black and brown.  It was standing erect in the snow on the back porch, its front paws resting against the windowsill.  Its red eyes were staring intently at something within the house.

Michael sunk down behind a nearby bush, and crawled on his hands and knees farther into the back yard to get a better look.  He couldn’t see the white wolf anywhere; perhaps his eyes had played a trick on him.

He got up to his feet behind a pine tree and carefully peaked out at the wolf.  It was still staring into the window, but now Michael saw that Elizabeth was staring back out at it.  She was standing there with a blank face, as if she were looking into a dream.

The whole situation seemed surreal, and Michael didn’t know what to make of it.  He stood watching silently for a few moments, until the wolf hopped down from the window and began to walk slowly to the door.  Elizabeth followed.  He could see her through the glass door as she reached up to pull the handle.  Was she really going to let that thing inside the house?

“HEY!” he shouted, stepping out from behind the tree.

The wolf shot its head around.  Its red, demonic eyes glared back at him.  The thing snarled and snapped into the air, enraged that Michael had interfered.

Foam dripped from its mouth as it started to walk slowly toward him, sizing him up like some little piece of prey.  Now it was coming faster.  Now it was running toward him!

“MICHAEL?”  Sarah Axtell was standing beside the corner of the house not far from the porch.  She had followed him.

The wolf stopped in its tracks and spun back around to face her.  It howled in rage and sprang toward her, but she stumbled and fell backward as the creature lunged.  As it passed over her face its fur tickled her cheek and she caught the scent of wet dog.  Then she screamed.

It only took Michael a few seconds to reach the girl.  She looked terrified, and tears were beginning to well up in her eyes.

Michael got down to his knees and put his hand under her head.  “Are you okay?”

“You saved me,” she whispered admiringly.

“Actually,” he said with a relieved sigh, “I think it was you who saved me.”  Michael looked all around.  There was no sign of the wolf.  It had vanished, and still he could see no tracks.

He helped Sarah to her feet, and she threw her arms around him, refusing to let go.

“Um, I think we’d better get you back home before it gets too dark,” Michael told her.

He walked her home, staggering along as she clung to him tightly.  Abigail smirked as they walked back into Sarah’s yard.

Bill noticed his sister had been crying, and eyed Michael suspiciously.  “Hey,” he said to Sarah, “Are you okay?”

She blurted out everything that happened, and how Michael had valiantly saved her from the wolf.

Armando shook his head.  “What’s with all these wild animals in the neighborhood lately?”

Michael shrugged.  “I dunno, it’s weird.”

“You bet it’s weird,” Bill said, the suspicious look remaining on his face.  “There aren’t any wolves living around here.  Are you sure it wasn’t a German shepherd or something?  It has to have been someone’s pet.”

“It sure didn’t seem like a pet to me,” Sarah snapped.

“No, it didn’t,” Michael agreed.

Sarah beamed at him.

“Well I think we should all keep a closer eye on things around here,” Bill told them.  “You know, look out for anything weird.”

Well that’s just great, Michael thought to himself.  If there were anything in the neighborhood that could be classified as weird, it would be his family.

As they walked back home, Michael told Abby the rest of the story, including how Elizabeth was about to let the wolf into the house.

“Are you absolutely sure it wasn’t Uncle Link?” she asked him.

“Not unless he’s colored his fur and found some red contact lenses.”

Michael opened up the back door, and they took off their boots so as not to track snow inside.  They found Elizabeth alone in the kitchen making dinner.  Their parents had gone out on a date, and she’d agreed to spend the evening with them.

“Hey Aunt Liz,” Abigail asked her abruptly, “did you see a wolf in the back yard a little while ago?”

She stopped what she was doing and stared off into space, like she was trying to remember something.

“Hmm,” she thought out loud.  “Actually, yes there was.  I think it was a husky or something.  I was about to open up the door and shoo it off, but it ended up running away on its own.”

Michael looked at his sister and shook his head discreetly.  He was going to need to get some answers, but he wasn’t sure how he was going to do it.

Christmas day had come.  Abigail helped her mother make their traditional Christmas breakfast of strawberry waffles, scrambled eggs, and bacon.  As usual, Michael and Abigail, who were eager to open their presents, hurried along the meal.

“Well,” Mark told his wife, “at least they don’t come in and jump on our bed at five o’clock in the morning anymore.”

The children both made out pretty good.  Abigail got a new kung fu uniform, and an upright punching bag that was shaped like a street thug.  She also got a lot of pretty new clothes, many of them blue (her favorite color), as well as a few that she intended to take back and exchange.

Michael received some video games, a new black, leather bomber jacket, and a Ruger 10/22 Rifle with a scope.  His father told him he had to keep it in the gun cabinet in the garage and could only take it out when they went shooting together.

Michael’s parents also exchanged gifts.  His father had gotten some really old books, which he enjoyed collecting, and his mother was given a dragonfly broach, which looked expensive, and which she said was gorgeous.  They gave each other some more stuff that Michael didn’t pay too much attention to, but he chuckled when his mother wasn’t quite sure if the antique birdcage his father had gotten her was intended as a joke or not.  He insisted it wasn’t, but gave Michael a discreet wink.

It was about two o’clock in the afternoon when Declan MacDonald called to wish everyone a merry Christmas.  He and his son Liam were going to be coming for a visit in a few weeks.

“Listen,” Declan told Mark, “when we come out next month, I’d like to bring a friend of mine along to meet you.  She’s a historian from Ireland, and lately, she’s been conducting some very interesting research.”

“Sounds great,” Mark told him.  “What kind of research?”

“I can’t talk a lot about it over the phone, but let’s just say she might have some interesting leads on a valuable relic; one that I believe you’ve had some experience with.”

“Well, I trust your judgment, so if you think it’s worthwhile, bring her on by.  I’d love to meet her.”

After a few minutes, Michael got on the phone to say hello to Liam, and the two boys talked for a while about what they’d gotten for Christmas and what they were going to do during the visit.  Michael was excited about getting to see his best friend again.  He could hardly wait.

After getting off the phone, Michael caught up with his father in the backyard, who was preparing to fry a turkey.  Michael stood with his back to the outdoor fireplace, drawing in warmth from the crackling flames.  Tiny snowflakes were coming to rest all around them, and Michael wondered why his father wasn’t just cooking the turkey inside.

“Why are doing that out here in the yard?” Michael asked.

“Well, if one of these turkey fryers gets tipped over inside, chances are the whole house will burn down.  These things are dangerous, but they do make delicious turkey.”

Michael turned to look at the house.  He didn’t even want to imagine their house burning down.  In fact, he cringed to think about it.

Michael turned back to his father.  Something had been bothering him lately and he was glad for the chance to talk to him alone.  “Hey Dad, why didn’t Mom ever tell us that her father was still alive?”

Mark stopped what he was doing and gazed up at his son with a look that suggested even the mention of his wife’s father made his skin crawl.

“Well,” he said with a sigh, “I know you’ve probably figured out by now that your mother didn’t have the happiest childhood.”  He shook his head.  “Before she was your age, she’d already experienced more pain than a lot of people do their entire lives.”

He finished getting the fryer set up, and shook the snow from a lawn chair, taking a seat by the fire.

“Let me ask you something, son.  When we were at your mom’s old house the other day, were you scared by what happened?”

Michael was a bit surprised by the question.

“Yeah, of course I was.”

“Well, just imagine living with that kind of fear and anxiety every day of your life.  Imagine being there as a small, helpless child, with nobody around to protect you or offer you any help.”

Michael’s heart sank and his eyes began to water.  He’d never imagined that his mother, who was so loving and kind, had come from such a horrible place.

His father got up and poured some peanut oil into the fryer, then turned it on.  “My mother used to have a saying.  Well, actually she had a lot of sayings.  I never understood some of them until I got a little older.”  He looked up at his son and grinned.  “Anyway, she used to say ‘If pain were water then the world would drown.’”

Michael gazed down at the snow-covered ground, thinking about his grandmother’s words.  He knew that he had been a pretty lucky boy.  He had a family that loved him, and a nice home to live in, and although his life wasn’t perfect, he knew that there were many people in the world who weren’t nearly as blessed as he was.

“Before we went back there,” his father continued, “your mom hadn’t seen her father for twenty years.  In fact, she never intended to see him again, but losing that amulet had been bothering her ever since he snatched it away.  And last year, with everything that happened at the necropolis of Anubis, well, she’s been practically obsessed with getting that amulet back.”

Michael understood why his mother had wanted the thing back so badly.  He wanted answers about their family just like she did.  “She wanted it back so badly,” he said, “that she was even willing to face her father again to get it.”

“Yes, but as much as she’s always wanted answers to explain why people in her family can shape-shift, I think more than anything she now wants to find those answers for you and Abby.”

“Us?  But she said she wasn’t even sure we’d have the ability to change.”

His father began to place a few pieces of turkey into the fryer.  “Well, that’s a small possibility, but from everything I’ve learned about shape-shifters, I’d say it’s almost a certainty that you’ve inherited the ability.”

Michael had already spent a lot of time thinking about this, and though he was excited by the possibilities of being able to change his form, he was worried that he would change into a rabbit or an inchworm, or possibly even a cockroach.  He shuddered.  What if he turned in to some horrible, bloodthirsty bear like his grandfather?  What if whatever he turned out to be was something evil?  And yet- his uncle Link was a wolf and he was nice enough.  A bit weird sometimes, but nice.

Michael’s father gave him a reassuring smile.  He could tell what his son was thinking.  “Don’t worry about it.  Whatever will be, will be.  The decisions you make and the person you are on the inside is what matters, not what you look like on the outside.”

Michael nodded.  Lately he’d been wondering if his father would think about him and Abby as being somehow less human once they were able to change form.

“Dad, did you know mom was a shape-shifter when you married her?”

“The first time I saw your mother she was staring down at me and my friends from the branch of a tree.  A few minutes later I saw her change into the most beautiful young woman I had ever, and will ever see in my life.  I loved her from the moment I met her, and that love has only gotten stronger over time.”  He got up and stood with his back to the fire, carefully stretching his arms so he wouldn’t disturb his injured chest.  “The fact that your mother is a shape-shifter is an amazing and fascinating thing to me,” he continued.  “But it honestly means nothing to me in regards to my love for her.  I wouldn’t love her any more if she didn’t have her ability.  And having her ability doesn’t make me love her any less.  I just…love her.  And I always will.”

Michael felt like a weight had been lifted.

“Now go into the kitchen and fetch me a platter.  Some of this turkey is almost done.  I’ll give you a dollar if it’s not the best stuff you’ve ever tasted.”

CHAPTER FOUR

Crying Wolf

It was January 13th, the night before Abigail’s tenth birthday.  Since she was going to have some friends over for a sleepover that night, Elizabeth offered to take the family out a day early to celebrate.  They went to the Blue Danube, the restaurant owned by Mihnea Anghelescu, the man Elizabeth recently started dating.

Michael didn’t like the idea of Elizabeth dating some restaurant owner; he believed she belonged with his uncle, Lincoln.  He’d already made up his mind that he wasn’t going to have a very good time.

They arrived at the restaurant and walked inside.  It was an inviting and elegant place.  There were a lot of patrons seated at the tables, and classical music could be heard playing behind the chatter.  Michael instantly recognized the piece as part of the Brandenburg Concertos.

After a moment, a pretty waitress with curly blonde hair escorted them to their table, and they each took a seat.

“Well, this is charming,” said Rachel enthusiastically.  Elizabeth smiled back excitedly.

Mark folded his napkin and placed it on his lap.  “Yeah, this place is really something else.  Rachel tells me that the chef came from a three Michelin star restaurant?”

Elizabeth nodded.  “I’ve never tasted food like this before.  You’re really going to love it.”

None of this impressed Michael.  He’d made up his mind that this Mihnea guy wasn’t any good for Elizabeth, and he didn’t care how good his food was.  He suddenly thought of Liam, and felt proud that he, unlike his best friend, could not be bribed by something as trivial as a good meal.

The waitress came back to take their drink orders.  Abigail picked up the wine list and began to examine her options.

Her mother whipped it away.  “Are you kidding me?” she asked in annoyance.  “The four of us will have water with lemon please,” she told the waitress.

“Mr. Anghelescu has been tied up in the back, but he wanted to let you know that he’ll be joining you shortly.”

“Thanks,” said Elizabeth with a smile.  The waitress winked at Michael and left.

“Anghelsecu?” asked Mark.  “So Mihnea is from…Romania, is that correct?”

“Yes,” Elizabeth told him.  “He was born in Romania, but has been living in New York for the past twenty years.”

“And you’ve been dating him for about a month now?”

“I met him the night after you returned from Colorado, so, yes.  It’s been about a month.”

“What brought him to Arizona?” asked Rachel.

“I think he just wanted a change of scenery.  He was looking for the perfect spot to open up his restaurant and for some reason decided Prescott was the right fit.”

“Sounds a little suspicious to me,” Michael said to Elizabeth, but she ignored him.

Abigail gave him a sharp kick underneath the table.  “Mind your manners!”

“Ouch!” he hissed at her.  He was about to retaliate when a familiar face caught his attention.  “Hey, it’s Uncle Link.”

Link had already caught sight of them and was walking toward the table.  A scruffy, dark haired boy followed along behind him.

Elizabeth looked at him and frowned.  “What is he doing here?”  Mark and Rachel politely greeted him as he approached the table.

“Have you got room for two more?” Link asked them, not waiting for an answer before planting himself in a chair.

Elizabeth glared at him, and then she looked at the boy with a loving smile.  “Hello, Raymond, how have you been?”

“Great,” he answered enthusiastically and pulled a chair up next to Michael.  Abigail looked at him apprehensively.  Although Raymond had helped her and Michael escape from the MacFarlane clan the previous summer, she’d always felt a little nervous around him.  As much as she tried to overcome it, she just couldn’t seem to be okay with having a werewolf around.  Raymond never seemed to notice, but Michael did.  He knew his sister well and saw how she clammed up whenever the boy was near.

“So tell me,” Link said to Elizabeth in a sweetened voice, “where’s this new boyfriend of yours?”

“He’ll be along momentarily.  And he isn’t my boyfriend…not yet anyway,” she added with a smirk.

Link squinted his eyes angrily, but didn’t respond.

“Here he is now.”  Elizabeth glowered at Link, warning him to behave.

“Ahh, hello, Elizabeth,” Mihnea said, placing his hand on her shoulder.  “I’m so glad you could bring your friends along tonight.”

She introduced them all in turn.  Michael gave Mihnea a firm handshake, but he didn’t smile.  Link was surprisingly friendly.

After introductions were made, Mihnea sat down to join them.  “So how do you like the restaurant?” he asked them.

“Oh, it’s absolutely gorgeous,” Rachel told him, and Mark nodded his head in agreement.

“It’s a very warm atmosphere,” Link told him genuinely.  “Really makes you feel relaxed and at home.”

Elizabeth eyed him suspiciously.  She’d expected Link to be downright rude, and his behavior caught her off guard.  He had to be up to something.

“Have you all ordered yet?” asked Mihnea.

“No, we wanted to wait for you,” Elizabeth told him with a grin.

“Oh, how kind of you.”  He motioned to the waitress to come over, and they all gave their orders.  Michael didn’t like the way Mihnea spoke to this pretty, blonde woman.  It seemed a little too friendly in his opinion, not that Elizabeth seemed to notice.

“So what are you up to when you aren’t opening restaurants?” Rachel asked him.

Mihnea laughed.  “Well, as you can imagine, this business keeps me extremely busy, but I find time to relax.  I actually consider myself quite the amateur magician.”

“Well, that’s interesting,” Mark said, taking a sip of water.  “Got any tricks you can show us.”

“Sure,” he responded, leaning over to Abigail and pulling a quarter from her ear.

Michael laughed, not so much from the trick, but from the irritated look on his sister’s face.  She obviously didn’t like being used as a prop.

“Oh come on, you can do better than that,” Elizabeth challenged him.

“All right, well, I am fairly proficient at hypnosis- suggestion and the like.”

“Really?” said Link with a smirk.  “This should be good.”

“Does that mean you’re volunteering?” Elizabeth asked him.

“Me?” He raised an eyebrow at her.  Then turned to face Mihnea.  “Sure, why not.  Do your worst, Houdini.”

“I’ve heard you can’t hypnotize someone who doesn’t want to be hypnotized?” Mark asked him.  “Is that true?”

Mihnea smiled.  “For most, yes it is true.  But I know aspects of the art that many do not.”

“Ooh, sounds intriguing.” Rachel rubbed her hands together excitedly.

“Hey Link, do you want to be hypnotized?” Mark asked him.

“What do you think genius?”

Mark laughed at him, shaking his head.  He nudged his wife.  “There’s the Link we all know and love.”

“Lincoln,” Mihnea said casually, “why don’t you run into the kitchen and fetch me a glass of water?”

Link got up and walked away toward the kitchen.  He came back a minute later with a glass of water, handed it to Mihnea, and sat back down in his chair.

“Well,” Link said, “I’m waiting.  Are we gonna see this trick of yours or not?”

Everyone laughed.  Everyone except Michael.  He didn’t think it was funny at all.

“Oh, of course Lincoln, of course.  Do me a favor and give me your jacket, won’t you?”

Mihnea took off his own jacket, hung it on the back of his chair, and took the long leather duster Link had been wearing, put it on himself, then sat back down.

Everyone laughed again while Link looked around the table in confusion.

“Do someone else now,” Abby told him.

“Alright,” he smiled.

He looked at Raymond.  “Young man, what is your name?”

Raymond looked at him blankly.  “I…I can’t remember.”

“And where do you live?” Mihnea went on.

“I don’t know.”

“No? I think you’ll remember if you try.”

“Sure I remember, I live in Sedona.”

“And your name?  You remember, don’t you?”

“My name’s Raymond.”

Everyone looked impressed, but Michael noticed that his father looked a bit troubled.  It reminded him of the look he got when he was doing something his dad didn’t particularly approve of, but probably wasn’t going to yell at him for.

“Well, that’s enough of that,” Mihnea told them.  “Here comes our food.”

The conversation was pleasant through the rest of dinner.  Michael had some kind of chicken dish that he couldn’t quite pronounce.  He enjoyed the food, although he didn’t admit it to anyone.  What surprised him the most, and even disappointed him, was the way his uncle Link was acting toward Mihnea.  Michael had expected him to give the man a hard time, but he was actually being downright pleasant.

After dinner, Michael got Link off by himself in the parking lot.  “Hey, what’s wrong with you,” he whispered.  “How could you be so nice to that jerk in there?”

Link looked confused, as if he didn’t know what Michael was talking about.

“I…I don’t really know.  I mean, I came here tonight ready to smack the taste out of that guy’s mouth, but, well…”

“Well, WHAT?” Michael yelled.

“Well,” he said thoughtfully, “now that I’ve met him, I really like him.  I don’t know why, I just…really, really like that guy.  He’s okay in my book.”

“WHAT?” Michael growled.  “Uncle Link, that guy made you look like an fool tonight and now he’s your new best friend?  Are you sure you’re feeling okay?”

Link just stood there and looked at him blankly.

Michael’s father had taken notice and came over to stand between them.

“Hey,” he told Michael calmly, “why don’t you go and pick on somebody your own size.”

“But—,”

“Get!” his father commanded, and he begrudgingly walked back to the car.  Elizabeth and his mother were jabbering nearby.

Michael looked back at his father and uncle, who continued to talk for a few minutes.  When his father came back over, he got in the car.

“Dad—,”

“Look, I know there’s something weird going on.  For now just keep your cool.  We’ll talk about it later, okay?”

Michael nodded.  At least he wasn’t the only one who’d noticed it.  He had a bad feeling about this Mihnea guy, and he was determined to figure out why.

The day soon came when the MacDonalds were scheduled to arrive, and Michael and Abigail were preparing one of the upstairs guest rooms for Liam.

Abigail insisted on making his bed with Strawberry Shortcake sheets, with a matching pillowcase and comforter.  She also brought in some potpourri and placed a pink towel in the bathroom for him.

“He’s getting off easy this time,” she told her brother, “and he’d better not complain about any of it either, or I’ll put food coloring in his shampoo to turn his hair pink.”

Michael knew his sister would do it, because she’d perfected the technique on him, so he wasn’t about to argue with her about it.

The second upstairs guest room was prepared for Mrs. Stoker, the guest the MacDonalds were bringing with them, and Mr. MacDonald’s room was located downstairs near his parents.

Once all the rooms were ready, Mrs. Belmont and Abigail began to prepare lunch, so that the guests could have a nice meal when they arrived.  Mr. Belmont had driven down to Phoenix to pick them up from the airport and would be getting back within the hour.

Michael’s mother seemed to be in an especially good mood, so he decided to tempt fate and bring up the subject of the amulet.

“Michael,” she told him sternly,  “I told you before that I’m not going to let you touch that amulet again until we get some more information about what happened with it the last time.  I want answers as much as you do, but you need to be patient.”  She looked at Anubis’s ring on his finger and frowned.  Despite her best efforts, she hadn’t been able to get the thing off, and had even threatened to take him to the jeweler and have it cut.

‘But Mom, what if it explodes or something?’ he’d told her.  She hadn’t mentioned it since, but he often found her giving the ring distrustful looks.

Michael was disappointed that she wouldn’t let him handle the amulet, but knew that arguing would just put her in a bad mood.

“Oh,” she added, “By the way, don’t bother doing any of that fancy detective work of yours to try and find the thing either, because it won’t work.”  She gave him a big I know something you don’t know type of smile.  “Now why don’t you make yourself useful and set the table.”

He immediately headed to the silverware drawer, knowing it was too late to escape the menial task.  Abigail gave him a taunting smile, which he ignored.

“So, Mom, what do you think of this Mihnea guy anyway?”

“I think he’s charming,” broke in Abigail.

Mrs. Belmont rolled her eyes.  “Well, yes, he is charming, and very handsome as well…”

“And?” pressed Michael.

“And,” she continued carefully, “he seems to be making Elizabeth very happy.  In fact, she’s leaving tomorrow to spend a month in Romania with him.”

“What?” Michael grumbled.  “Why wasn’t I told about this?”

His mother put her hands on her hips and shook her head at him.  “Who are you all of a sudden?  Her father?  Besides, I didn’t even know about it until this morning.”

Michael thought she looked a little mad about that.

“Well I don’t like it, and I don’t trust him,” he told her.

“Oh yeah,” Abigail waved her finger in his face.  “Since when did you become such a great judge of character?”

“Get that finger out of my face before I break it off!” he ordered her.

She pursed her lips angrily.

“Knock it off you two,” their mother growled.  “I’m in no mood for this right now.”

“WELL, HE STARTED IT.”

“Shut your pie-hole,” Michael shot back at her.

Their mother closed her eyes and began to rub her temples.  “I don’t know what’s gotten into the two of you,” she said quietly, “but you’ve each earned yourselves a bathroom to clean.”

Despite their protests, and the fact that the bathrooms had been cleaned the night before, they dared not argue with her any further.  She was skilled at coming up with bizarre and meaningless chores whenever they refused to stop fighting.

Michael fumed as he re-scrubbed the upstairs bathroom.  He didn’t know why Abby had to be such a little know-it-all brat all the time.

It was so frustrating that no one was taking him seriously.  He knew that neither his mother or father trusted Mihnea, but for some reason they didn’t seem willing to admit it, at least not to him.  Maybe Liam could help him get answers when he arrived.  They always worked best as a team.  The amulet, the wolves, Elizabeth’s boyfriend- there were a lot of strange things going on, and he seemed to be the only one who cared.

“Maybe I ought to get the Cisco Kid to help me out,” he said under his breath.  “He can be a pest, but he did figure out mom’s secret on his own.”  He sprayed the mirror with window cleaner and made circles with his rag.  Wax on, wax off, wax on, wax off.  He caught his own reflection in the mirror and frowned seriously.  When he was done with all this he’d get some fresh air.  That always helped him think more clearly.

After cleaning the bathroom, and his mother had come in to check several times that he was doing it right, Michael headed out to the garage to get the recurve bow that Liam had given him from the armory at McGinty Castle.

'That’s quite a special bow,' Mr. MacDonald had told him.  'Make sure you take really good care of that, and your welcome to it.'

Michael had promised that he would take excellent care of the bow, and he had.  He picked it up admiringly.  It was dark red, and displayed intricate Celtic carvings.  It felt very old, ancient really, and the first few times he’d shot it he was afraid it would snap, but the more he used it the more confident he was in its strength and durability.

Michael walked out to the shooting range behind the shed and brushed the snow away from the bales of straw.  Then he clipped up one of the new targets he’d gotten from a gun shop in Prescott Valley; it was a zombie in a business suit with a briefcase.

Michael’s aim had improved over the last few months.  He’d been practicing almost every day, and his bow was beginning to feel so natural to him it was almost like an extension of his own body.

He had been shooting for a half hour or so, and was thinking about heading back inside to warm up, when he noticed movement out in the distance near a group of granite boulders.  He squatted down, held still for a moment, and watched.

After a while, he saw it again.  Some kind of animal…a dog perhaps?  It was white, blending in with the snow.

It’s that WOLF, Michael yelled inside his head, gritting his teeth to stop from shouting.

Well, the cursed thing isn’t going to get away this time, he thought.  He stealthily pulled an arrow out of his quiver and strung it on the bow.

THWOOT.

He heard a yip, and jumped to his feet, stumbling into a run as he scanned the forest ahead of him.  It only took him a few moments to reach the boulders where he’d seen the wolf, but it wasn’t there.  A few drops of blood stained the snow near his feet, which reminded him of the wolf’s red eyes, and how they stood out so brilliantly through its white fur.

No paw-prints could be found in the snow anywhere.

He cautiously combed the area, another arrow drawn and ready.  Scanning through the trees around him, he could find no more signs of the creature.  He was sure, from the blood and the cry he’d heard when the arrow struck, that his shot had been true.

Heading a little deeper into the woods, he was nearly to the edge of his family’s property when he found the arrow.  It had been snapped in half, and was lying in the snow.  A small amount of blood was splattered nearby.

That’s odd, Michael thought as he examined the broken pieces.  If it had simply dropped out or if the wolf had managed to shake it out, why was it snapped in half like this?  There were only two possibilities.  Either someone had pulled the arrow out of the wolf and snapped it, or the wolf had changed into a human, pulled the arrow out himself, and snapped it in half.  Neither of these thoughts was encouraging, and Michael decided that hanging around by himself might not be the best idea.

Cautiously, he jogged back toward his house, scanning the trees around him, and turning to check behind as he plodded through the snow.

“HEY!” came a shout from behind a nearby tree.

He stopped in his tracks, pulled back the arrow and stood his ground.

“Planning on shooting me then?  You Americans have a strange way of greeting guests.”

It was Liam.  He stepped out slowly from behind a large pine tree with his hands in the air.

“Are you trying to give me a heart attack?” Michael scolded him.  “Why were you hiding like that?”

“Hiding?” asked Liam.  “What are you talking about?  Put that thing DOWN!”

Michael lowered his bow.  “Sorry about that.  I just had, well, quite an unusual encounter.”  He told Liam about the white wolf he’d shot at, and about seeing the two wolves a few weeks before.

“Werewolves?”  Liam asked him uneasily.

“No, I don’t think so.  At least they weren’t like the ones we ran across last year.  I’m thinking now that these might be shape-shifters.”

“Why did you shoot at him then?”

“Well the last time I met up with them I was about to be attacked, wasn’t I?” Michael said defensively.

“Alright,” conceded Liam.  “Don’t get all worked up about it.”  He glanced at the bow.  “Hey, how’s that bow working out for you?”

“It’s great,” Michael answered with a smile.  “I’ve been practicing with it almost every day.  At first I was worried because it’s so old, but it hasn’t shown any signs of breaking.”

“Excellent,” Liam told him with a grin.  “I’m glad you’re using it.”

“So what’s been happening with you?  Anything new and exciting going on?”

“Well, actually there has been something I’ve wanted to talk with you about.”  His smile contorted into a grimace, and he stood there for a moment like he didn’t really know where to begin.

“Well,” Michael urged him.  “What is it?”

Liam sighed.  “I’d never be telling you this if, well…if you hadn’t already seen stuff like this for yourself.”

Michael could tell he was having a hard time getting it out.  “It’s all right, whatever it is you can tell me.”

“I’ve been seeing my mum,” Liam said quickly.

Michael just stood there, trying to take in what his friend had just said.

“Last year, when we were leaving the forest across from the Fianna Barrows….”

“I remember,” said Michael.  “You thought you saw her looking out at us from the forest.”

Liam nodded.  “I’ve seen her there again.  Several times actually.”  He looked down at the ground.  “At first I thought I was just imagining it, you know, my mind playing tricks on me.  But now….  I’ve even seen her from my room in the tower, through the telescope.  It’s always been around twilight.”

“Did she look like a ghost?  Like the ones we saw in the Fianna Barrows?”

“No, she didn’t.  Actually she looked quite normal.  Like a regular person.  But she did look very sad.”

Michael didn’t know what to say.  He didn’t disbelieve what Liam was telling him, but he couldn’t exactly wrap his head around it either.

“Have you gone back into the forest?” Michael asked him.

“No,” he answered quietly, as if disappointed in himself.  “I was afraid of the place before, but now I’m, well, the thought of going in there alone terrifies me to tell you the truth.  I tried to do it.  Tried to go in there more than once to see if I could find her, but I just couldn’t bring myself to do it.”

“Have you told your dad, or Mr. Finnegan about it?”

Liam laughed nervously.  “And make them think I’ve completely lost it?  That’s the last thing I need.  Can you imagine what this would sound like to my da?  Hey, Da, you know how Mum died all those years ago when I was little?  Well, I keep seeing her in the forest behind the castle.  Why don’t we walk out there together and take a look?  We can make a day out of it, maybe have a picnic.  It’ll be loads of fun.”

“Come on,” Michael said with a frown.  “You wouldn’t have to tell him like that.”

“Well how would you tell him about it?”  He looked at Michael expectantly.

Michael thought about it for a moment.  Perhaps Liam was right.  “I don’t know,” he conceded.  “I don’t blame you for not wanting to go in that forest alone.  The next time I come out we’ll go in there together, alright?”

Liam nodded.  He smiled, but looked a little ashamed.

“You don’t think I’m…crazy, or anything do you?”

“Well, to be completely honest, the whole thing does sound crazy.  But it’s just like you said- with all the things we’ve seen together- who’s to say what’s crazy and what isn’t anyway?”

Liam shrugged.  “So what are you going to do about those wolves?”

“What can I do?  Ask my mom and uncle about it I guess.  I’ll be watching for them, but right now I don’t know who they are or what they want.”

Liam sighed and shook his head.  “And here I was thinking this might be a nice, relaxing vacation.”

As Michael and Liam approached the house, Abigail ran out to greet them.

“Hi Liam,” she said cheerfully.  “How did you like the room we decorated for you?”

“Oh, it’s great,” he retorted, glancing at Michael facetiously.  “Just the way I would have done it myself.”  He wasn’t going to let Abigail get under his skin; it would be too satisfying for her.

“Hmm,” she hummed with pursed lips, staring into his eyes trying to gauge him.  “Alright,” she said calmly.  “Oops!” she placed her hand over her mouth.  “I just remembered, I forgot to put shampoo and conditioner in your shower.”

As Abigail headed back into the house, Michael shook his head discreetly at Liam.  She turned her head briefly as she ran to make sure her brother wasn’t warning him.

“I wouldn’t use it if I were you,” he whispered under his breath.

“Okay.  Hey, you need to come in and meet Mrs. Stoker,” Liam said.  “She really is a quite, um, fascinating woman.  A little creepy, but pretty nice.”

“I haven’t even said hello to your dad yet.  How’s he been?”

“Pretty good.  He’s been busy lately, working with Mrs. Stoker trying to locate some old sword.  It belonged to some bloke called Van Helsing.”

Michael thought he’d heard the name before, but couldn’t remember where.  They walked into the kitchen from the back porch and headed into the living room.

Mr. MacDonald saw him and gave a toothy smile.  “Michael, hello lad.  How have you been?”

“Great, how about you?” he asked, as they met in a firm handshake.

“Excellent, thanks for asking.  This is Mrs. Dorothy Stoker.”

Michael greeted the old woman.  She was rather short, and stood hunched over, leaning upon her cane with both hands.  She had a solemn face, and her blue eyes were clear and piercing.

“Pleased to meet you,” she said to Michael in a thick Irish accent.  “Declan speaks very highly of your family.  I’ve been looking forward to meeting you.”

“Thank you, ma’am.”

“Is everyone all settled into their rooms?” Michael’s mother asked the guests.

“Yes, thank you, Rachel,” Declan told her.  “I tried to convince Mrs. Stoker to take the downstairs bedroom, but she insisted on staying upstairs.”

“Stairs are one of the many enemies of the aged,” she said with eyes closed and nose in the air.  “I’ve always tried to confront my enemies head-on.”

Liam winked at Michael and smiled.  “She really is a tough old bird,” he whispered.

“Thank you, young man,” she said, startling him.  “I have the eyes of a hawk and the ears of an owl.  And don’t-you-forget it,” she added while shaking her cane at him.  She then walked with a surprisingly brisk pace over to an armchair by the front window and flung herself down.

Michael’s father came in from the kitchen and handed both Mr. MacDonald and Mrs. Stoker a piping cup of coffee.

“So how long have the two of you been working together?” Michael asked.

“Well, Mrs. Stoker is actually an old friend of Finnegan’s.  He mentioned that she was traveling to Tarbet on business and I requested the opportunity to meet her.  I’ve been following her work for quite some time now.”

“Yes,” she said.  “Declan was kind enough to offer me a place to stay.  McGinty Castle is quite the treat for a historian like me.”

“Mrs. Stoker, Declan tells me you’ve been doing some research that I’d find interesting.  He wouldn’t tell me much over the phone though.”

“Mark,” scolded his wife, “don’t start prodding Mrs. Stoker for information right now.  I’m sure she’d like to rest for a while after such a long trip—”

“Nonsense, dear,” the old woman interrupted.  “I appreciate the sentiment, but we didn’t travel all this way for the coffee, did we?”

Mr. Belmont smiled at his wife and winked; she came back with a dirty look.

“To answer your question Mr. Belmont, yes, Declan has been helping me on some of my current research.  Or, perhaps to put it more accurately, we have been continuing the research.  You see, my grandfather is the one who really began it.  He was a historian too.”

She gave her coffee a few stirs and took a sip.  “The kinds of thing we’re about to talk about, in my experience, are best discussed in person, where prying ears are less likely to take notice.”

Mr. MacDonald nodded in agreement.

“When I was younger, my grandfather’s work inspired me to follow in his footsteps and become a historian.  After he passed away, I gained access to some of his more, shall we say- questionable work.  Paranormal research, accounts of monsters, demonic possessions, all things that I completely rejected as the worst kind of fanciful rubbish.  I actually began to think that my grandfather had gone mad, and that I was looking at the mindless ramblings of a lunatic.  I quietly put all of this away for safe keeping, and went on with my life.”  She took another drink of coffee, and looked sympathetically at the three children.

“I know about everything you went through last year.  I also know what it’s like to live through such experiences.  Having a somewhat similar encounter myself, my mind was changed and I returned to my grandfather’s research.  I became obsessed with it, really.  Nothing else seemed important to me, my eyes had been opened to the malevolent forces that inhabit this world, and they could never be closed again.”

Abigail, who was seated on the couch across from Mrs. Stoker, had buried her head in her hands the way she did when she wanted to hide the fact that she was crying.

“That is why,” Mrs. Stoker continued, “I’ve dedicated the last fifty years of my life to investigating such dark forces; assisting the best way that I could those who have taken up the struggle against evil.”

Michael and Liam looked at each other with wide eyes.  Michael felt a kinship with the old woman somehow, like he had known her for some time, even though they’d just met.

“Well, I guess I should get to the point.  Are any of you familiar with the name Dracula?”

“Yes,” Mr. Belmont said cautiously.  “A few years ago, not long after Abby was born- now that I think about it, I came across his story while hunting for an artifact, a very valuable sword.”

“I remember you speaking about him,” said Michael’s mother.  “You told me his story after you got back.  He was a Transylvanian prince or something wasn’t he?  A mass-murderer and a madman?”

“A Wallachian prince actually,” corrected Mrs. Stoker.  “Although he was born in Transylvania.  And yes, he was quite a madman, known throughout the region for his cruelty.  History records him as an evil man, but there are other facts that recorded history has failed to mention.”  Staring intently at Michael’s father she said, “Tell me, what kind of stories did you hear?”

“Well, at the time, I considered it mostly nonsense.  I was with some associates over in Romania.  Even today the people still revere and fear Dracula’s name.  We visited with some gypsies, got particularly friendly with a young man named Tobar.  He served as our guide and told us the stories.  According to the local legends, Dracula was a vampire.  He had to drink human blood in order to survive.  It was also said he had the ability to change his form into that of a wolf or a bat if memory serves.”

When his father said this, Michael’s heart began to race.  Were his recent encounters with the wolves more than simple coincidence?

Dorothy nodded.  “Yes.  That sounds about right.  What if I told you that those stories are more than old gypsy legends?  What if I told you I had proof that Dracula may actually have been the monster spoken about in those stories?”

“I’d say,” said Mark seriously, “that I might be inclined to believe you.”

“And what if I told you that there have been rumors recently of Dracula’s reappearance?  That he might never have really died? That perhaps he’s been making plans to return to power?”

Mark raised his eyebrows, looking at Declan expectantly.  “What have you got to say about all this?”

“I know it all sounds like something out of a cheap horror movie,” he said, shaking his head.  “I wish that were the case.  This is where the evidence is pointing.”

“So what exactly does all this all have to do with us?” Rachel broke in with an irritated voice.  “You said that you didn’t come for the coffee, but I know you didn’t come to tell campfire stories either.”

“Rachel!” Mark said with a frown.  He was a little surprised at his wife’s tone.

“It’s quite all right,” Mrs. Stoker said gently.  “I understand your concern, my dear.  After everything this family has been through lately I can’t blame you for being defensive.  I know you don’t want to see your loved ones dragged into danger again, but I assure you I want nothing more from your husband than information.”

Rachel’s expression changed from anger to guilt, and her eyes got watery.  “I’m sorry,” she said weakly.  “You’re right.  I guess I’ve been a little on-edge lately, given all the things we’ve gone through.  I didn’t mean to snap like that.”

Mrs. Stoker smiled warmly, and then turned to Mr. Belmont.  “Since Declan told me you may be able to help, I’ve been so anxious to speak with you.  Tell me, dear, that sword you spoke of…were you able to learn anything about its fate?”

“Perhaps,” he said flatly.  “But first, why don’t you tell me what you know about the sword, and why you’re interested in it.”

“I think I like this friend of yours, Declan,” Dorothy told him with a wry smile.

CHAPTER FIVE

The Sword of Van Helsing

Mrs. Stoker took a long draught of her coffee and set down the cup.  She folded her arms in her lap, cleared her throat, and turned her nose into the air.

“My grandfather, Bram Stoker, was known to his friends as a theater manager and writer.  But most of those friends would never have guessed his true calling.  His love of history and a fascination with folklore led him into discovering things in this world that most people simply shut their eyes to.  His research and knowledge of paranormal phenomenon eventually led him into fellowship with a company of like-minded men, one of whom was named Dr. Abraham Van Helsing.

Dr. Van Helsing was a true peer of my grandfather in the knowledge of fighting evil, and there weren’t many.  They often collaborated when great forces of evil arose.  One such instance occurred when Dr. Van Helsing learned of the atrocities being committed by the vampire- Count Dracula.

Dracula was actually Vlad the Third, also known as Vlad Tepes, or Vlad the Impaler.  He was born in 1431, and was presumably killed by a group of men led by Van Helsing in 1893.”

“But that would make him….” Liam said, attempting to count in his head.  Michael thought steam might begin shooting out any second.  “That would make him really old,” he concluded.

Mrs. Stoker nodded.  “Four hundred and sixty two years old.”  She looked around at her listeners, expecting some kind of protest.

Michael smiled, laughing on the inside.  Little did she know that only last year they’d all met a man who was several thousand years old.  I wonder what she’d have to say about that, he thought.

She cleared her throat again before proceeding.  “As I was saying, my grandfather offered his assistance in the fight against Dracula.  He was able to learn of a mythical sword that would defeat the great monster once and for all.”

“A sword?” asked Michael’s mother.  “I thought vampires could be killed by running a wooden stake through their heart.”

“Yes,” agreed the old woman.  “Most can.  Or with a cross, or holy water.  But Dracula had grown so powerful, so evil, that although those very things had been used against him on several occasions, he always came back from the grave.  He seemed to be drawing his power from some unknown source.  Something in the castle perhaps.  For some reason, my grandfather’s papers are surprisingly vague in these matters, but from all the information I’ve been able to piece together, here’s what we know for sure.  My grandfather was able to provide Van Helsing with the sword to defeat Dracula, after which time the weapon was hidden.  My grandfather from that time on referred to the blade as the Sword of Van Helsing.”

Mr. MacDonald sat up in his chair.  “We think that perhaps Bram Stoker purposefully left out a lot of information.  He wanted to protect the sword.  He wanted to keep its location safe and prevent anyone else from uncovering Dracula’s evil secrets.”

“So what makes you think Dracula might have returned again?” Michael’s father asked.  “What are these rumors you mentioned?”

Mrs. Stoker pointed her finger into the air.  “There have been notable increases in vampiric infestations across Europe.  That alone is fairly interesting, but intelligence reports have come in showing a high level of activity around Dracula’s Castle.  Our hunters have taken care of most of the vampires, but so far have been unable to ascertain the true reason behind the increase in activity.”

“Alright,” Michael’s father said, crossing his arms.  “So why’s the sword of Van Helsing so important?  Why are you searching for it?  If Van Helsing used it to defeat Dracula last time and he’s come back again, maybe it’s not the weapon you need.”

Mr. MacDonald frowned.  “The thing is, Mark, we aren’t the ones searching for the sword- not really.  We just want to make sure it’s safe.”

“It’s the vampires that have been looking,” broke in Mrs. Stoker.  “They’ve been searching relentlessly for the thing- leaving a trail of blood and destruction behind them the whole way.  If the sword is something they want, it’s definitely not something we want them to have.”

Michael shuddered.  “So these vampires, they want to get the sword to give to Dracula, or if he hasn’t come back they want to use it to try and bring him back?”

“It certainly appears so Mikey,” Declan nodded.  He looked back at Mark.  “To tell you the truth, we aren’t entirely sure what their plans are for the sword.  That’s why any information you have might help us out.  If we are able to send a team to recover it, then the Guild can keep it safe.  But if the sword falls into the wrong hands, who knows what evil could come of it.”

Michael’s father nodded.  “I understand.  And I want you both to know that there’s absolutely nothing to worry about.”

Mrs. Stoker eyed him suspiciously.  “Why do you say that, Mr. Belmont?”

“Because the sword is safe.  I have it.”

They all stared at him in disbelief as he casually drank his coffee.

“Oh, very well then, I suppose I’m going to have to show it to you,” he said in a feigned irritated voice, and winked at Michael as he got up.  “Someone make sure all the curtains are drawn by the time I get back.”  He stopped at the door to look over his shoulder at Rachel.  “I could use another shot of coffee, dear, if you don’t mind.”

Michael jumped up to follow him.  He had a mind to see exactly where his father might have hidden such a sword, but his mother glared a warning at him.  “Back in that chair right NOW, Mister!”  Her eyes locked with his before she disappeared into the kitchen to get some more coffee.

“Did you know he might have the sword?” Mrs. Stoker asked Mr. MacDonald.  She smiled excitedly.

“I knew it was possible, but I didn’t want to say anything because the chance was so slim.  Mark Belmont is quite the treasure hunter.  Once he sets his mind on acquiring something, he usually gets it.”

The old woman just sat there looking at him suspiciously, scratching her chin.  “I hope this isn’t some kind of a joke.  Do you know how many people have gone looking for that sword since Van Helsing hid it?”

Michael watched Abigail as she went around the living room, re-checking all the windows to make sure the drapes were securely drawn.  He chuckled and shook his head at Liam when she went outside to check if she could see in from the yard.

Michael leaned over to Liam.  “Hey, what’s this Guild your dad mentioned a minute ago?  Is that the group Finnegan belongs to or something?”

Liam nodded.  “Yup.  I pestered the old bloke about it until he came clean.  They call themselves the Nodens Guild.  They’re a society of monster hunters with members all across the British Isles.  That’s about all I could get out of him though.”

“Is your dad a member too?”

“No, but Mrs. Stoker is.  Shamus McGinty was too.  My da just helps them out from time to time.”

After a few minutes, Michael’s father came back in with a long object wrapped up in a dark blue cloth.  He sat down on the floor and rolled it out as everyone gathered around.  There was the sword, sheathed in a leather scabbard.  He drew it out, and laid it down before them.

It was a simple weapon, but quite beautiful.  The double-edged blade was long and straight, and sharp- Michael could see that.  The golden grip was large enough to fit both hands of an adult man, and then some. The pommel at the bottom contained some sort of clear, polished blue stone.  Michael reached down to touch it, and the stone glowed softly, as did his ring.

His fingers met the golden hilt, and that’s when everything disappeared in a flash.

Michael suddenly found himself standing upon a parapet wall, facing a tall castle tower.  In front of him stood a tall blonde man dressed in white, and as his head began to clear, he realized that this was someone he recognized.

But whose memories had he jumped into?  Was it Anubis?  He couldn’t tell what his host was thinking.  It’s happening again, he thought to himself.  It’s like my encounter with the girl when I touched my mom’s amulet.  I can see and feel everything, but I don’t know what this person is thinking.  It was an odd sensation, being trapped inside someone’s head without having any control or being able to speak.

The man in white had just handed him something, and he looked down to inspect it.  It was the very same sword his father had brought out just a few moments ago.

“Thank you, Uriel," he found himself saying in another man’s voice.  “You do me much honor by entrusting me with such a mighty gift.”

“You are a brave and loyal man George.  You have proven yourself to be a mighty, yet humble warrior.  But you have also drawn the attention of powerful foes, enemies of all mankind.  This blade will help you in your quest.”

George examined the sword once again.  The jewel infixed in the pommel glowed with a soft blue light.  It was the same light Michael had seen in the Staff of Anubis, his mother’s amulet, and his own ring.

George looked up at Uriel, who wore a solemn, yet friendly grin.  “This sword was forged in celestial light.  It will banish the fallen ones into the prison that has been prepared for them.  Do you remember everything we discussed about the gateway to Tartarus?”

George nodded.

Uriel continued.  “Be warned my friend, although this is a powerful weapon, it does not make you invulnerable.  My brother Zuriel will stop at nothing to interfere with our work, but by wielding this sword you will become much more powerful.”

“I understand.”

“Good.  I have one more gift to give you, another weapon, but it is not yet finished.  Once completed, it will be invaluable in helping you capture your adversaries.”

“Lord knows I have plenty of those out there.”  George sheathed the sword, holding his hand on the hilt as he turned to look off over the parapet wall.  A dense snow-covered forest was spread out before him, and a chilling wind blew through the air.  He breathed it in slowly before reaching up to rub his hands together.  The vision faded.

The living room spun around him for several moments before Michael was able to focus on the worried faces of the people standing over him.

“Is the boy alright?” Mrs. Stoker croaked.

Michael’s father and Liam helped him to his feet, although he hadn’t needed them to, and sat him down in a nearby chair.  His father looked hard into his eyes to make sure all the lights had come back on.

“Goodness, child,” Mrs. Stoker gasped.  “The next time you decide to up and faint like that, don’t do it while leaning over a sword.  Are you trying to give an old woman a heart attack?”

“Sorry about that,” said Michael, rubbing his head.  He glanced at his mother, who did not look the least bit amused.

“Come with me,” she said, pushing through the others and dragging him toward the kitchen.  “Everyone, lunch will be ready in fifteen minutes.”

As they left the room, Michael heard his father assuring Mrs. Stoker that he would be all right, and returning her attention to the sword.

His mother sat him down at the table and poured him a glass of soda.  Then she started to make lunch, watching him suspiciously and waiting for him to talk.

“WELL?” she said finally.  She didn’t sound mad, he decided, just concerned.  He carefully told her about everything he’d seen.

“Alright,” she said calmly.  “So that ring of yours, for some reason, is causing you to see other people's memories when you touch certain relics.  Has this ever happened apart from the amulet, the sword, and Anubis’s sarcophagus?”

“No, it hasn’t.”

She raised her eyebrows threateningly and began to take containers out of the refrigerator.

“I wouldn’t lie to you about it Mom.”  The implication made him feel mad and a little hurt.  He couldn’t claim that he’d never lied to his parents, but he hadn’t in a long time, and this was too important.

“Alright,” she said, believing him.  “But you said that with Anubis it was different.  He told you that a friend had helped him design that contraption in order to store his memories, and that was before you had the ring.  And this Uriel guy; he’s the one that gave Anubis his staff as well.  He told George that the sword had been forged with…what was it again?”

“He called it celestial light.  It has to be the same stuff that was in Anubis’s staff, and in my ring too.  It’s why the ring reacted to the sword.  That has to be the answer!”

“But what’s that got to do with my grandmother’s amulet?  You didn’t see this Uriel character when you touched the amulet did you?”

“I didn’t see much of anything, you jerked it away from me before I had the chance, remember?”

She glared at him.

“Sorry, Mom.”  He smiled guiltily.  “But maybe if you let me take another look at the amulet, I can figure this out.”

She sighed.  “We need to talk to your father about all of this first and see what he thinks.”  She looked worried.  “How do you feel?  It doesn’t hurt or make you sick or anything when you see these visions?”

He shook his head.  “It doesn’t hurt at all.  It’s actually really disorienting for a few seconds, and it makes me a little tired, but I’m fine after that wears off.”

“Okay,” she conceded.  “But like I said, we need to talk this over with your father.  I won’t put you in any danger, either from the amulet, or that sword.  Besides, we need to work all this nonsense out with the vampires now, so let’s just take things one step at a time.”  She sounded drained.

Michael got up to help her with the final preparations for lunch.  “It’ll be okay, Mom.  It sounds like Mrs. Stoker is working with some people who’ll know what to do.”

“Yes, I suppose so.  I just hope your father doesn’t get any wild ideas about trying his hand at vampire hunting.”

Michael chuckled, but stopped when he could see by her expression that she was serious, and very unhappy at the prospect.

“Um, Mom, there’s probably one other thing I ought to tell you about.”

She set a bowl of lettuce down on the table and looked at him nervously.

“You know how I told you about seeing those wolves in the yard a few weeks ago?”

She nodded apprehensively.

“Well, I think I shot the white one a little bit earlier today with my bow.”  He told her the story as she stared at him with a half open mouth.

“That is interesting.  I think it’s something we need to discus with everyone- including out guests.  But not until after lunch, okay?”

Michael felt sorry for his mother.  She looked so tired and worried.  He wished he could do something to make her feel better, but he didn’t know how to help.  “Are you okay, Mom?”

She nodded, and thrust her arms around him, squeezing tightly.

The night seemed too quiet and Michael couldn’t sleep.  He kept thinking about the sword of Van Helsing, and the stories that Dorothy Stoker had told them after dinner.  Stories of impaled bodies, burned villages, and inhuman crimes- all committed by this Count Dracula.  Would it really be possible for such a monster to return from the grave?  That he might be forming some type of army for a return to power?  The whole idea would have seemed crazy to him once, but not anymore.  If werewolves existed, then perhaps vampires were more than just a story as well.  He had no reason to disbelieve Mrs. Stoker; he just didn’t want to believe her.

And why was he having these visions?  First it was his mother’s amulet, and now the sword of Van Helsing.  Was there some purpose behind it all, or was it nothing more than coincidence.  He desperately wanted to figure things out.

Who was this George fellow that he had seen when he touched the sword?  It certainly didn’t seem like he had anything to do with Abraham Van Helsing.  He had to figure out a way to get his hands back on that sword, so he could learn more about where it came from, and how it was used to destroy Dracula.  If it had been used to defeat him once, they might need to use it again.  Maybe the vampires were looking for it because it was the only thing that could defeat him.

He wondered where his father had placed the sword.  Back in its original hiding place?  Maybe he’d given it to Mrs. Stoker, or Mr. MacDonald.  Wherever the thing was, his father wouldn’t have left it out in the open somewhere, especially since he knew there were people out there searching for it.

Almost without thinking he jumped out of bed, headed down the hall and went downstairs.  He looked around the living room and the other common areas of the house before being fully convinced that the sword had indeed been re-hidden.

“Well, my Dad’s not an idiot,” Michael whispered to himself, “and Mom would have made him put it away anyway so I couldn’t get to it.”

He felt thirsty, and decided to head to the kitchen for a drink of water before returning to bed.

Getting a glass from the cupboard, he filled it with cold water from the faucet and took a drink.  As he stood in front of the sink, he looked out the window into the night.  It seemed brighter outside with the moonlight than it was in the house, and Michael could see the snow-covered trees standing still in the distance.  It was a calm night, and it looked really cold.  He finished drinking and placed his glass in the sink.  Perhaps his brain would calm down enough now to return to bed and get some sleep.  He was tired, and there would be plenty of time for thinking tomorrow, he told himself.

And then he saw something move in the distance outside the window.  It looked like a human figure passing behind one of the trees.  He stood still and watched for a few long minutes.

There was nothing out there.  He decided his imagination was just playing tricks on him.  That’s what he got for allowing himself to be spooked by ghost stories.

Each footfall seemed heavier as he staggered back up to his room.  He dropped into bed, and before long he’d fallen into a peaceful world of dreams.

The sound of a woman screaming tore its way into Michael’s dream.  He shot up and opened his eyes.  Was it his mother?

He pulled himself out of bed and staggered out into the hallway.  The smell of smoke drifting through the air made him choke, and he squinted to see a strange orange glow coming from the stairwell.

Sprinting for Abigail’s room and throwing open the door, he reached for the light switch and flipped it up, but no light came.  Though his eyes stung from the smoke, he could see the form of his sister lying on the bed through the darkness.  She was still sound asleep.  He grabbed her and shook frantically.

“What’s your PROBLEM?” she barked at him angrily.

“HEY,” Michael shot back at her, “We need to get out of here right NOW.  THE HOUSE IS ON FIRE!”

“WHAT?”

He grabbed her arm and pulled her out of the room. It was like trying to lead a stubborn, confused mule, but before long she realized what was happening, and followed him toward Liam’s room.

Liam had heard the commotion and come out to meet them in the hall, a look of dread plastered on his face.  “A fire?” he asked them, already knowing the answer.

Dorothy Stoker came out of her room and shuffled off toward the stairs, only to come back a few moments later.  “Children, we can’t get out down there, we need to find another route.”

“But what about Mom and Dad?  And Mr. MacDonald?” Abigail pleaded.  Their rooms were downstairs, and it was clear they couldn’t be reached.

“I’m sure they all got out okay.”  Michael told her.  His voice was shaking but he knew he had to be strong and keep a level head.  “Follow me, everyone.”

He ushered them all into Liam’s room and opened the window.  Then he retrieved an emergency escape ladder from the closet and attached it to the windowsill.  Mrs. Stoker did not look pleased, but she had a determined glare in her eyes.

A woman began shouting at them loudly from the ground below.  Michael looked down to see his mother, fit to be tied, running to the bottom of the ladder.

“Is everyone alright?” she yelled as a thick smoke began to billow out the window.

“Yes, we’re all okay,” he yelled back as he helped Abigail climb out and start down the ladder.

Dorothy insisted that both boys go before she did, but Liam waited a few rungs down to help her as she came over the windowsill.  She hemmed and hawed nervously while trying to get her footing, until a window exploded somewhere beneath them.  This seemed to motivate her, and she scooted down the rungs like she’d just been replaced with a stunt double.

After everyone got to the ground, they ran to the sidewalk on the other side of the street where a few neighbors were starting to gather.

Michael turned around to see his house ablaze.  The fire had moved into the upstairs and flames were licking the frame of the window from which they’d climbed down.  The heat was so fierce they had to shield their eyes.

A few moments later a fire truck pulled up and the firemen scurried out.  They linked up to the closest hydrant and began to attack the blaze like a squadron of soldiers infiltrating an enemy base.

Michael’s mother grabbed all three kids and pulled them in tight.

Michael looked around, scanning through the night for his father.  “Where are dad and Mr. MacDonald?”

His mother just squeezed them all tightly.  “They’re fine.  They weren’t in the house.”

What did she mean they weren’t in the house?  At least they were safe, which was all that mattered.

Abigail began to weep, and Rose Dominguez came out of nowhere, put a blanket around her and kissed the top of her head.

It soon became obvious to Michael as he watched their home burn that the firemen wouldn’t be able to save it.  All they could do now was try to contain the flames and keep the fire from spreading to another structure, or to the forest behind the house.  He couldn’t believe what was happening.  It didn’t seem real.  The place where he had grown up, the place where he had always felt the safest, was now turning to ash right before his eyes.  All of his things, his video game collection, the bomber jacket he’d gotten for Christmas, they were all burning up as he stood there helplessly.  But none of those things suddenly mattered very much.

He thought of all the family pictures hanging on the walls as the fire swept through and consumed them.  He thought of the shelf in his sister’s room, where she had placed all of her kung fu trophies and the ribbons she’d won.  His heart broke for her, and for his parents and the things that they were losing, and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

CHAPTER SIX

Aftermath

Michael was already awake when the sun came up.  He, Abigail and Liam had gone to the Dominguez’s house to spend the rest of the night, but none of them had been able to go back to sleep.

It was eight o’clock in the morning when his mother returned to pick them up.  She thanked Rose for keeping them, and kindly refused her offers to have the family stay at their house until they figured things out.  Rachel appreciated the offer, but knew it would be too intrusive to stay with the Dominguez’s for the long term.

“Where are we going to stay?” Abigail asked her.  “Are we going to buy another house?”

“I’m not sure right now,” her mother said.  “I got us some hotel rooms until we decide what we’re going to do.”

The Cisco kid was being unusually quiet, but when he saw that they were getting ready to leave, he pulled Abigail aside to talk to her.  “I’m really sorry about your house, Abby.”  He shook his head and gave her a genuinely sad frown.  “Do you know who might have done this?  Do you know who Hawk-Lady’s nemesis is?”

Abigail opened her mouth to say something snotty when Michael pushed his way in between them.  “No, we don’t Cisco, that’s why we need you to keep your eyes open for us.”

Abigail looked stunned.

“We need you, Cisco.  Hawk-Lady needs you.”

Cisco snapped to attention like a soldier, his face dutiful and solemn.

“We need you to keep your eye on things when we aren’t around.  But be very careful.  Never let yourself be seen, and don’t go out alone after dark.  I want you to report anything strange to me or Abigail right away.  Do you think you can handle that?”

“Heck yes, I can do that,” he insisted.  “I was born for this stuff.”

“Good,” Michael said, slapping him on the back.  “I knew we could count on you.  Just remember, be careful.”

“What was that all about,” Liam asked him as they followed Michael’s mother and Mrs. Dominguez outside.

“Just adding another set of eyes to the watch.  He already figured everything about my mother out on his own, the kid’s a natural.”

They all thanked Rose once more and said goodbye.  As they drove past the charred ruins of what was once their home, Michael felt sick inside and said a final goodbye to the house as well.

They drove along silently for a while.  Michael looked out at the familiar landscapes and buildings as they passed by.  Everything looked different somehow.  He was noticing things he hadn’t before; the shapes of buildings, the color of houses, details that had never stood out to him until now.  He hadn’t appreciated his own house like he should have, and now it was gone.

“We’re still not exactly sure what happened,” his mother explained.  “The fire department is going to conduct an investigation.  It could be a few days before we hear anything.”

“Well I can tell you one thing,” Michael told her, “those wolves had something to do with it.  Whoever they are, or whoever they belong to must have burned the house.  I’ll bet it was those vampires Mrs. Stoker told us about.”

His mother sat silently for a few moments before speaking.  “Maybe, but we don’t know anything yet.  Let’s just wait until we have some facts.”

Michael knew better than to press the issue.  He was too angry about it and didn’t want to lose his temper.

“Where’s my da and Mr. Belmont?” Liam asked.  “Why weren’t they there last night during the fire?”

Her eyes remained fixed on the road.  “They had a problem that needed to be dealt with.”

“A problem?”  Abigail asked.  “What kind of problem?”

Michael didn’t like the sound of that.  “Was it something to do with the fire?”

“I don’t know yet.  Maybe.  Probably.”  She sounded exhausted.  “A young man tried to break in last night, it looks like he was after the sword.  Your father and Declan captured him and took him down for questioning.”

Michael and Liam looked at each other.

“Well, where are they NOW?”  Michael yelled.

“Like I said young man, your father and Declan are questioning him, and I’m in no mood to be yelled at by a twelve year old.”

“I’m almost thirteen,” Michael protested.

Abigail glared at him.  “Then stop acting like a three year old.  Why don’t you just be quiet for once and leave mom alone!”  She stuck out her tongue before turning back to look out her window.  Michael curled his hands into fists, and imagined how nice it would be to throw her right out that window, but then he felt guilty and turned to his window as well.

Liam, who was sitting between them, suddenly felt his stomach growl.  “So, what are we going to do about breakfast?” he asked sheepishly.

The hotel room was stuffy and suffocating.  Michael was exhausted, yet the last place in the world he wanted to be was sitting on a hotel bed in front of a television.  Michael and Abigail looked at each other in disbelief as Liam sat beside them, entranced by the fishing show he was watching.  The fisherman had just reeled in a largemouth bass and was holding it up to the camera.

“Oooh, dat’s a big un,” he said through a full mouth of his sausage muffin.

“Don’t talk with your mouth full,” Abigail shot at him.  “If fact, here’s a better idea- JUST DON’T TALK!”  She punched Liam hard on the arm, but he’d seen it coming and lunged out of the way.  It grazed him and he humphed in pain.

“Wha’s go’en in ‘o ‘ou la’ly, huh?” he managed to sputter.

She held up her fist right in front of his face.  “I’ve had about enough out of you and your stupid fishing show.  That’s what.”

“You see what I’ve had to deal with?” Michael told him.  “She’s been out of her mind lately.”

She turned her fist to Michael and glared at him.

“Go ahead!” he dared her.  “Liam might not hit you back, but if you pull that stuff on me I’ll throw you through the roof.”

She smiled at him evilly.  “My kung fu is powerful,” she warned, snapping her long blonde ponytail to the side and going into a defensive stance.

“That’s it,” Michael told her.  “I can’t take any more of you right now.  Come on Liam, let’s take a walk.”

“Mom didn’t say we could leave,” Abigail spat at him, lowering her arms.

“She didn’t say we couldn’t.”

“But where are you going?” she pouted.

“Away from YOU!”

She suddenly looked hurt and flustered.  “Well go on then, see if I care.”

Michael shot out of the room and knocked on the next door over.  He could hear a loud snore coming from inside, and began knocking louder.  The snoring stopped and after a moment a starry-eyed old woman opened the door.

“Mrs. Stoker, Liam and I have some business to take care of,” he told her sweetly.  “My baby sister insists on staying here with you, says she wants you to tell her everything you know about history.  I hope you don’t mind.”

She looked at him suspiciously for a moment, and then smiled.  “All right, dear.  You two be careful now.”

Liam followed as Michael stormed down the hall.  “Hey, where are we going?”

“To look for clues.  If we run we can be back to my house in twenty minutes.  I’m not about to sit around and wait while someone tries to attack my family.”

“So, young lady, your brother tells me you’re a history buff.”  Mrs. Stoker rung her hands together and made a gleeful smile.  “That’s one thing we have in common.”

Abigail stared at her unenthusiastically from across the hotel room table.

“I think I have a story you might find interesting.  Would you like to hear it?”

Abigail shrugged and sighed.  “I suppose,” she said cheerlessly.

This didn’t curtail the old woman’s enthusiasm.  “Many years ago, before I looked like a dried up old raisin, I was actually quite a beautiful young woman.  Many a gentleman came calling upon me, let me tell you, but I never gave many of them the time of day.  I was too interested in my studies you see, and it took me a while before I had any desire to marry and start a family.  I did end up settling down with a wonderful man,” she reminisced, “but we were never able to have any children of our own.”  She smiled at Abigail, who had her head resting on her wrists upon the table.  The girl smiled back with her mouth, but not with her eyes.

“Well, years before I got married, I met one of the first men who really caught my eye.  He was a fine gentleman- tall and handsome, and wealthy to boot, although that part of it honestly didn’t mean much to me at the time.  I still don’t know exactly what it was about him that caught my interest.  He was humble and charming, and somehow seemed more real than other men I’d met.  He became a regular customer at the bookstore where I worked, and eventually started coming in every day to buy another book.  Before long the reason for his frequent visits became obvious.  He was there to see me, not the books.

“He began to court me, and we went on a few walks, and trips to the theater together, and I must say I was beginning to fall in love with him.  But it was a few weeks after we began dating, during our visit to a masquerade ball when things got really interesting.  I won’t burden you with the fine details, except to say that it was during that dance that my beloved Henry tried to sink his large, sharp teeth into me.”

Abigail was now sitting straight up with a captivated and pained expression.  “He was a…a werewolf?”

“Oh, heavens no, dear.  Henry was a vampire.  In fact, a good half the people at that ball were vampires.  It was a little party they all got together and threw every year, you see.  Each would bring a human victim with them, and…well you can probably guess the rest.”

“How did you get away?  Did he bite you?”  Abigail looked afraid.  Visions of her own encounter with the MacFarlane clan swirled through her head.

“Are you alright, dear?  You look a wee bit pale.”

Abigail insisted she was fine, but Mrs. Stoker made her take some long, deep breaths before she continued.

“Henry threw my head back and went for my neck, but he hissed and drew away when he saw the cross hanging around my neck.  It wasn’t something I usually wore.  I didn’t believe in religion at the time, but the trinket had been my mother’s and I sometimes wore it on special occasions.  A few moments later, some men crashed through the windows in the ceiling and began to slay the vampires.  I’d never seen anything like it.  There were only about a dozen of them, and they were outnumbered five to one.  It was the bravest, most extraordinary thing I’d ever witnessed.  One of the men turned to see my distress and flung a sharp wooden stake through the air.  ‘His heart,’ he shouted to me, ‘put it through his heart.’  I don’t know what sort of strength came over me to do just that, but I plunged the stake right into Henry’s heart and he…well let’s just say that that’s the last we saw of him.”

Abigail’s chest was pounding.  A cold sweat appeared on her brow as she imagined the horrible scene, and relived memories of her own.

“For a long time after that encounter I was scared and angry.  In fact, I was very angry.  I’m still not sure whom I was angry at.  I didn’t want to believe that things like that could happen, that creatures so vile existed.  Everyone hears about tragic and horrible things happening to other people, but it’s different when it happens to you, isn’t it?”

Abigail nodded.  Tears streamed down her face to moisten the collar of her t-shirt.

“I saw that man later- the one who’d thrown me the stake, the one who’d saved my life.  He introduced himself to me only as the Dragon.  He said he’d known my grandfather, and he taught me how to protect myself from the undead.  For two years he came from time to time to check up on me, but then he stopped coming, and I never heard from him again.  To this day I wonder what happened to him.  I’d like to think he lived the rest of his life happily and in peace, though I doubt that was his fate.”

She stared off into the distance for a moment before turning her gaze to Abigail.  “You’ve seen some very dreadful things for someone so young,” the old woman told her.  “The day may come when you see more still, but you can’t live in fear.  And you must find your strength, Abby,” she said while giving her hand a squeeze.  “You must be strong.  You must find your strength and seize ahold of it.  And once you seize it, don’t let go!”

Abigail looked into the old woman’s eyes, and then down to the small, golden cross hanging around her neck.  It sparkled as it swung back and forth upon its chain.

She wasn’t sure that she liked this old woman knowing what she was thinking.  In a way it was comforting, but it also made her feel vulnerable- even more exposed than she already felt.  She was scared, and she was very, very angry.  And she didn’t know how to fix it.

The yellow Do Not Cross tape, which stretched across the front of the Belmont’s yard, was easily hopped over, and Michael and Liam did just that as Michael looked around to see if anyone was watching.  A few of the neighbors might have seen him, but he didn’t care.  Nobody was going to tell him he couldn’t go onto his own property.

“But it isn’t safe,” Liam warned him.  “Besides, your mother said that the firemen need to do an investigation.  What if we mess something up?”

“Stay out on the sidewalk if you want to,” Michael snapped at him, but he felt bad for it as soon as the words had come out.  “Look, I’m sorry.  You haven’t been treated very well since you’ve been here, have you.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it, Mikey,” he said in a relaxed tone.  “You’ve had a hard night.  I can’t imagine what this must be like for you- losing everything.”

Michael smiled gratefully.  Liam had always been a good friend.  He was a joker, but was always there when you needed him.

“I’ll tell you one thing though, that sister of yours is on her way to a smacked bottom if she keeps trying to use me for a punching bag.”

Michael chuckled.  That would definitely be something he’d like to see.  But Liam didn’t appear to be laughing.

They walked around the blackened structure of the house and through shallow pools of ice and water.  A few familiar things could be recognized in the debris, but Michael had never seen such a mess.  He looked up to see the garage intact.  At least that had been spared.

“MY BOW,” yelled Michael as he tore off through the yard.  The garage door was locked, so he fished out his key and opened it up.  The bow was hanging, unharmed inside.  He took it down and felt a rush of gladness as he ran his fingers across its surface.

“Well, it’s a good thing you’ve been keeping that out here,” Liam smiled.

Suddenly, a dark form stepped out of the shadows behind them.  They both jumped away, eager to get some distance from whatever it was.  Liam tripped over Abigail’s bike and landed backwards on the concrete floor, knocking the wind out of his lungs.

“Oh, I’m sorry about that,” said a short, fat intruder in a Batman costume.  “I didn’t mean to scare you.”  It was the Cisco Kid.

“Cisco, how did you get in here?” asked Michael, holding his hand over his chest.

“Through the window,” he said, pointing up.

“What?  With that cast on?  You should be at home resting.”

“The doctor said he wants me to move around on it.”

“Did he tell you to climb through garage windows?”

Cisco just grinned and shrugged.

“Well,” continued Michael, “WHY are you in here?”

“Because,” he told them urgently, “I watched your dads come in here early this morning, and they didn’t come out again.  I got worried about them and looked through the window, but they weren’t here, so I came in to check it out.”

“They probably just left again,” Liam told him.  “You must have missed them when they left.  Maybe you were in the bathroom.”

“No way,” said Cisco, looking offended.  “I never took my eyes off this place.  Michael asked me to watch things and that’s what I’ve been doing.  I even peed in the shrubs in front of my house so I could keep watching.”

Michael believed him, he knew what Cisco was like, and if he said he was watching the house, he really meant he was watching the house.

“Could they have left around back without you seeing?” Liam asked.

“No,” said Michael.  “That door and the garage door both face the street, he would have seen them go out.”

Cisco nodded.  “They came in and they never went back out again.”  He threw his hands up in exasperation.  “I don’t know what happened then, but they’re either still in here or they teleported away or something.”

Michael suddenly remembered his mother’s words.  “Hey,” he said to Liam, “this morning in the car, my mom said that our dads took that guy they caught ‘down’ for questioning.  Remember?”

“So you think she meant ‘down’ down?” he said, pointing at the floor.

“Could be.  If something like Finnegan's base can exist underneath McGinty Castle, why couldn’t my dad have something like that here?”

Liam shrugged.  “I guess it’s possible.”

“What are you guys talking about?” Cisco asked.  “A hidden passage or something?”

Michael nodded.  He wasn’t sure how much he wanted to tell Cisco, but he’d already proved he could be trusted, and he knew how to find things out for himself.  It would probably be a good idea to keep him included.  He’d prefer to stay on the kid’s good side.

“It’s the only explanation.  There must be a passageway in here someplace.  All we need to do is find it.”

The three of them looked throughout the garage.  They moved boxes, checked the floor and walls, and Liam even went up into the rafters to have a look around, but they couldn’t find anything unusual.  Michael got excited when he saw the old switch for the garage door that his father had told him was disconnected, but nothing happened when he pushed it.

A half hour of searching had passed, and then an hour, and they all stood looking at each other in frustration.  The Cisco Kid took off his Batman mask and wiped the sweat from his brow.  Liam leaned against the frame of an old Buick with tinted windows that Michael’s father had often talked of fixing up.

“Hey, wait a minute…” Michael said, reaching for the car door.  He pulled it open and there in the gutted out car was a rectangular trap in the floor.  A ladder extended down into the darkness.

“Whew!” huffed Liam as he jumped onto the stone ground at the bottom of the ladder.  “How far down are we anyway?”  He looked up the shaft to see the small point of light that they’d come through from the garage.

“ I dunno.”  Michael stepped down and leaned the Cisco Kid’s crutches, which had been tied together and strung over his right shoulder, against the wall.  “Looks like a hundred feet or so.  Why?  Gotten a bit out of shape, have we?”  He smirked at Liam, who just waved him off.

Not far behind them came the plump little Cisco, his cast thudding against each rung of the ladder like the dull tick of a clock.

Liam shook his head in disbelief.  “That kid’s crazy, going down that ladder with a cast on his leg.”

“Is this Hawk-Lady’s secret base?” asked Cisco with a scrunched up nose.  “I would have thought it would be up high somewhere, not underground.”

Liam smirked as they helped Cisco off the ladder and retrieved his crutches.  He looked at Michael.  “You ready to find out how mad our das are that we tracked them down here?”

“I guess so.  It might be Cisco who needs to carry us out of here by the time they get through with us.

The tunnel at the bottom of the ladder looked like an old mine shaft, supported by wood beams and rafters.  Electric lights ran along the roof.  The tunnel only went on for about fifty feet before opening up into an underground cavern.  Michael would have considered the cavern large before his exploration of the Egyptian tombs.

Over to the right, on the side of the cavern wall, was a solid metal door.  It was smooth and had no window or handle.

“What are we going to do now?” asked Cisco, hobbling up behind them.

Liam gazed at the door with his arms crossed.  He scratched his chin.  “I guess we’d better knock,” he said, but made no motion toward the door.

“All right, I’ll do it,” Michael told them.  “I guess it’s my responsibility.”  He stepped up and raised his fist to knock when a panel slid open just above his head.  A robotic arm extended and before he knew what was happening the round head at the end began to scan him from head to foot.

“Identity verified,” came a deep male voice.  “Michael Belmont- access granted.”

A high-pitched whir echoed through the cavern as the door slid open, revealing the chamber inside.

“Well, that was odd,” Michael told them, looking shocked.

They passed through the door and found themselves looking into another cave, but the floor was made of metal grating, and electrical equipment lined the walls.  There was also a strange hissing sound that Michael couldn’t quite place.  He was astounded.  How long had all of this existed right underneath his nose?  And he’d never known anything about it.

“YIKES,” shouted Liam, flapping his hands furiously around his head.

It startled Michael, who was already feeling jumpy.  “What’s wrong with you?” he reprimanded.

“Are you joking?  You didn’t see that huge bat that just flew past my head?  The thing was a monster!”

Michael looked down at Cisco, dressed in his Batman suit, standing on his crutches with a solemn look on his face- and then he looked back into the secret underground electronics filled cave.  It was all too much.  “I think you’re letting your imagination play tricks on you,” he told Liam.

“And I think you two need to have your eyes checked,” he sneered back.

They proceeded cautiously into the room to have a better look at things.  A large computer-display showed the slowly spinning form of earth, which was formed of fluorescent blue grid marks, and unfamiliar symbols marked various sections of the globe.

“Hey, look at that,” said Cisco, pointing off to the left.  A waterfall ran down the wall, making the strange sound that Michael had heard.  He started toward it, but stopped when the large monitor blipped.  He turned to see that the screen had changed, and a giant image of his father’s head was now peering down at them.

“Well, look who’s here!” Mr. Belmont said with a frown.

“I…I, uh….  You see we um….”

“Don’t worry about it.  We’ve actually been expecting you- otherwise you wouldn’t have gotten in.”

Michael decided his father wasn’t going to flay him after all.  “Dad…why didn’t you ever tell me about this place?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” he said, grinning.  “It’s much more exciting this way isn’t it?  Anyway, you’d better come down.  There’s someone here I want you to meet.”  He finally noticed Cisco, whose black costume had been blending in rather nicely with the cavern wall behind him.  “You brought Francisco with you?”  He raised his eyebrows, and gave Michael a displeased look he’d seen a thousand times before.  It seemed even scarier on a face that was dozens of times it’s normal size.

Michael shrugged and was beginning to stutter again when Liam jumped in to save him.

“Mr. Belmont, he’s actually the one who kind of had it figured out.  He saw you and my da go into the garage and noticed that you hadn’t come back out.”

“And just why were you spying on us, Cisco?” he asked with an exaggerated glare.

The boy looked petrified.

“I asked him to keep an eye on things for me,” Michael told him.  “You know, to help protect Hawk-Lady.”

“I see.” He eased his expression and Cisco drew in a deep sigh of relief.  All right, you and Liam come down, but Cisco, I’m going to need you to stay put.  You can sit there in front of the monitor and keep an eye on security for us, all right?”

Cisco looked as pleased as a dog that had been thrown a bone.  He scampered over and climbed up into the chair in front of the monitor.  The screen blipped again and Mr. Belmont’s face was replaced by a grid of the neighborhood.  Nothing looked amiss.

“WOW,” Cisco hooted as he gazed up and examined the map.

Liam bent down and pulled up his socks.  “Well, he told us to ‘come down’, but he didn’t tell us where to come down to, did he?”

At that moment they heard a loud whir, and watched as two platforms extended out of the cavern wall behind the waterfall; one appeared to be a bridge, and the one above it diverted the water to each side so they could pass through unhindered.  As they crossed over the short bridge, Michael looked down to see a large body of water a few dozen feet beneath them.  Liam pointed out a canoe tied to an iron post in the cavern wall.

“I wonder where that goes?”

“Jump in and find out,” Michael told him.  They exchanged smirks.

The passage beneath the waterfall led to a small room where an elevator door opened up.  They went inside and the door closed behind them.

Liam grabbed Michael’s shoulder and yelled, turning him around.  “It’s that bat again, look,” he said, pointing to the elevator roof.

“Hey, that thing is pretty big,” Michael told him.  “Looks like he’s sleeping though.  I doubt that’s the one you saw earlier.  Besides, this one’s white.  Was the one you saw white?”

Liam scratched his head, but didn’t answer.

“I bet there’re a lot of bats down here,” Michael assured him.

Liam didn’t look convinced.

Michael examined the control panel near the door.  It wasn’t the sort of thing he’d seen in an elevator before.  This one looked more like the keypad on a telephone, with the numbers 0 through 9 on it.  He thought that a bit odd.  He was contemplating what to press when the elevator suddenly began to move.  He half expected to hear elevator music as they descended farther into the depths of the earth.

The elevator door opened up to reveal a sight that Michael wasn’t expecting.  The chamber before them looked like a small living room.  The walls were stone, but there were a sofa, chairs, a coffee table, and even a television set.  His father was seated in an armchair and Mr. MacDonald stood beside him, sporting a mischievous grin.  A young man that he didn’t recognize sat on the sofa.  Michael guessed he was around twenty years old, and took note of how serious and unhappy he looked.

“Hello boys,” boomed Liam’s father.  “You two do seem to get around, don’t you?”

“I was actually starting to wonder what was taking you so long,” Michael’s father said.  “I found my dad’s relic vault when I was only nine.”  He looked at Mr. MacDonald and smiled.  “Maybe I was just a more crafty kid than he is.”

As they walked into the room, Michael kept his eyes on the stranger, not knowing what to think of him.  He saw that the Sword of Van Helsing was lying on the coffee table in front of him.

“Boys,” Michael’s father said, standing up.  “I want you to meet Caleb Boone.”

Caleb stood up too.  He met each of their hands in a firm handshake.  “A pleasure to meet you,” he told them without changing his solemn expression.  His pants, shirt, and boots were all black, which matched his black hair and five o’clock shadow.  Even the trench coat folded across the back of the sofa where Caleb had been sitting was black.

“Nice to meet you, too,” Michael said.  “So, dad, what exactly is going on?  Mom said you’d caught someone trying to break into the house last night.”

His father said nothing, but looked at Caleb and grinned.  Caleb sat back down.  “I’m afraid that was me.  Though at the time I didn’t know what I was getting myself into.”

“Are you the one that BURNT DOWN OUR HOUSE?” Michael growled threateningly, displaying a fist.

“No, he’s not,” his father said calmly.  “Why don’t you two have a seat.  We have a lot to talk about.”  He interlocked his fingers in front of his chest and waited as they sat down.  “First of all, Declan and I believe the two of you have the right to know about what’s going on.  We’re all a part of this now, but your mother’s not too happy about us keeping you in the loop, so make sure you respect her feelings.  You don’t want to cross her right now.”

“She knows we’re down here?” Michael asked.

His father nodded.  “I just got done speaking with her.  She’s already making travel preparations for us.”

“Travel preparations?  Where are we going?  I mean, our house just burnt down, aren’t there a few things to take care of?”

“Yes, but there’s also some pressing business we need to attend to.  I’ll let Caleb explain.”  He nodded at the young man, who looked less than thrilled at the prospect of going over the story again.

Caleb took a deep breath.  “All right.  Like I told your fathers, I broke in last night because I was trying to steal this sword.”  He pointed at the Sword of Van Helsing.  “I’ve been tracking some very bad people who’ve been looking for it, and after watching them carefully it became clear they believed your father had it.  I wanted to get my hands on it in order to keep it safe.”

“Safe from who?  The vampires?”

Caleb nodded.  “Once they have the sword, their leader can use it to reopen a portal- a gateway located inside his castle.”

“Mrs. Stoker told us about that,” Michael said.  “It’s where Dracula got the source of his evil power or something, right?”

“That’s partially true, yes.  You see, Dracula was born a shape-shifter.  He had the ability to change into a wolf, but after tragically losing the woman he loved, he turned away from God, whom he had once served.  He cursed God and learned to draw on the demonic powers that were trapped on the other side of that gateway.  He became something new, something diabolical; a warped, horrific version of the shape-shifter he’d been before.  He became the father of all vampires.”

“So Dracula wants to get the sword back so he can reopen this portal?” Liam asked.

“No, Dracula’s dead.  It’s his son Mihnea that’s after the sword.”

Michael felt like he’d just been punched.  “Mihnea?  You mean…not the Mihnea that Elizabeth has been seeing?”  He looked at his father pleadingly.

“Apparently he’s been using her to get closer to us; to fish for information that might lead him to the sword.”

“And now he has her, doesn’t he?  Mom said she was taking a trip to Romania with him.”

“Your mother hasn’t been able to reach her.  She’s not answering her phone.”  He sighed and frowned.  “She hasn’t been able to get ahold of your Uncle Link either.”

Uncle Link was going to be furious when he found out about Elizabeth.  Michael’s head began to spin.  He looked at Caleb, trying to read the stony expression on his unflinching face.  “Well, why should we believe him, he tried to break into our house and steal the sword.  He’s probably the one that burned it down, too.  Someone could have been killed.”

Mr. MacDonald shook his head.  “We’d already caught him before the fire, he’s not the one who set it.”

“That doesn’t mean anything,” Michael retorted.  “He could have been working with somebody else.”

“I am working with someone else,” Caleb said, rising to his feet.

“Oh yeah, with who?” Michael demanded.

“With me,” came a man’s voice from somewhere behind.

He spun around to see a tall man, dressed all in black except for the inside of his cloak, which was crimson, and the silver cross hanging from his neck.  He had long white hair and snowy white skin, and his eyes were the color of blood.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Alucard

“Intruder Alert, Intruder Alert,” came the deep voice that Michael had heard when the robotic ball had scanned him in.  The words were followed by a high-pitched alarm.

He leapt toward the coffee table and reached for the sword, but Caleb beat him to it.  He slid across the table on his stomach and crashed face first into the sofa near Caleb’s feet.  Michael rolled onto his back and looked up to see the man holding the sword at his side.  They’d been betrayed, and now they were surrounded.

“Sentinel, stand down,” came his father’s voice.  Caleb reached down and helped pull Michael back to his feet.

Suddenly, the Cisco Kid popped up on the television screen.  He had a surprised and dutiful look on his face.  “Hey, Mr. Belmont, the security grid shows you’ve got an intruder down there.  Is everything all right?  Do you want me to flood the level with water or something?”

Mr. Belmont’s eyes grew large.  “NO, Cisco, don’t do that.  Everything’s all right.  It’s just a misunderstanding.  Look, you’d better not be messing around with anything up there.”

Cisco gave him a guilty nod before the screen turned to black.

Mr. MacDonald turned to see Liam ready to spring on the intruder.  He smiled reassuringly.  “This must be Alucard.  Caleb was telling us about him just before you lot arrived.”

“It’s alright,” Caleb explained, holding his hand out to the strange looking man.  “These people are our friends.  They’ve agreed to help us.”

“Is that so?” Alucard asked in a cool voice.  “Then I’d appreciate you not trying to attack me every time you see me,” he told Michael, who responded with a confused glare.  Alucard pulled his cloak to the side and lifted up his shirt, revealing a section of his white torso where a bandage covered his ribs.  “It’s nearly healed now.  Your arrow fell true to its mark,” he said sullenly.  “I’m fairly certain you nicked my lung.”

“YOU’RE the WHITE WOLF,” Michael shouted at him accusingly.  “And what about that other wolf I saw?  The one that was about to attack me?”  He turned to Caleb.  “I suppose that was you, wasn’t it.”

“That was my brother, Mihnea,” Alucard said.  “He was trying to get the woman to invite him into your home, and was most displeased when you interrupted.  He would have killed you and the female child had I not drawn him away.”

“That’s why he leapt over Sarah?”  Michael looked down.  “I was wondering why he ran off like that.  But Mihnea is your brother?” he gasped, suddenly realizing the implication.  “That means that Dracula’s your…?”

“Yes,” Alucard nodded.  “Dracula was my father, though I’ve never known anything but sorrow because of it.”

“How exactly did you get in here?” Michael’s father asked curiously.  “How did you make it past my security systems?”

Alucard pointed at Liam with his thumb.  “I came in with them.”

Liam looked at him dumbly for a moment.  “You mean to say you were that bat?  You’re a vampire aren’t you?” he shot at him.  “Why should we trust anything that you have to say?  Hmm?”

“We trust him because Caleb trusts him,” Mr. Belmont said.  “That’s good enough for me.”

“What?  Why?”  Michael stuttered.  Had his father gone mad?  “What’s that supposed to mean?  We don’t know these people.  We just met them, and they were trying to rob us!  They’ve been spying on us!  What’s so special about this guy that makes you want to believe anything he has to say?”

“Show him the mark,” his father told Caleb.

Caleb pulled his left sleeve up.  Just below the shoulder was the emblem of a dragon.  It was curved with its tail winding around its own neck, so that its body formed a circle.  A cross divided the wings upon its back from the top near its neck down toward the base of the tail.  The emblem looked as though it had been burned right into the young man’s flesh.

“Good for you,” Michael said incredulously.  “Is that supposed to mean something to me?”

“It means,” said his father, pulling up his own sleeve, “that he’s a member of the Order of the Dragon.  Just like me.”  There on his father’s arm was the same mark.

“What?  What’s the Order of the Dragon?  What are you talking about?”  Michael was beginning to wonder how much he really knew about his father’s past.

Caleb folded his arms in front of his chest.  “The order was established centuries ago to confront the forces of evil.  Its members were sent to track down and destroy the enemies of God and mankind wherever they might be found.  In fact, Dracula’s own father was a member.”

Michael’s father nodded.  “As was Bram Stoker, although I’m fairly certain Dorothy Stoker doesn’t know it yet.”

“Why didn’t you tell her,” Michael asked.  “Why all the secrets?”

“I didn’t know myself until Caleb told me,” he responded.

“I still don’t understand why you’re so willing to trust these guys,” Michael said.  “So you and Caleb are in the same club or whatever.  So what?”

“We’re not talking about the Cub Scouts here.  Caleb had to earn that brand, just like I had to earn mine.  It means we’re brothers, and it means we can trust him.  You got me?”

Michael knew he was trying his father’s patience.  He surrendered a nod.

“I knew them both,” Alucard broke in.  “Stoker and Van Helsing.  It was I who led Stoker to the sword, and told Van Helsing how to navigate the castle and close the portal.”

“You helped them destroy your own father?” Liam asked.

Alucard nodded.  “It was necessary, though I took no pleasure in it.  His reign of evil needed to come to an end.  Even now, the legacy of destruction that he began continues to spread across the face of the earth.”

Caleb placed the sword gently down onto the coffee table.  “And if Mihnea is able to fulfill his plans, he could create a kingdom of evil unlike anything the world has seen before.”

“So what are we going to do?” asked Liam.  “Keep the sword hidden and go rescue Elizabeth?”

“It’s not quite that simple,” Mr. MacDonald told him.  “The sword isn’t the only thing that Mihnea is after.  In order to open up the gateway, he needs to find the heir of Abraham Van Helsing.  Only the true heir of Van Helsing can open it for him.”

“So we need to find this guy and warn him or something?” asked Michael.

Caleb snickered.  “I wish it were that easy.  Nobody knows for sure where the kid is.  His name is Olaf Van Helsing, but he’s not going by that name.  His family has been a target ever since Dracula’s death.  His followers have taken revenge on the Van Helsings at every possible opportunity, and now that Mihnea has learned the gateway can only be opened by Van Helsing’s heir, he’s been searching for Olaf as relentlessly as he has for the sword.”

“The truth is,” Michael’s father added, “we think there’s a chance the portal can be closed permanently.  Declan and I have discussed what happened down in the Tomb of Anubis with Caleb.  You remember how driven Aiden was to get that gateway closed?”

Michael and Liam both nodded.

Liam cleared his throat.  “So if we can find this Olaf guy and get him and the sword to the portal, he may be able to destroy it? ”

“But Anubis had to sacrifice himself to close the portal,” Michael said.  “He used his staff, which served as the key to the gateway, to charge up the energy until the thing destroyed itself.  Does that mean Olaf would have to do the same thing with the sword?”

“We don’t know,” his father said.  “It’s a possibility.  What do you think, Alucard?”

He shook his head.  “I don’t know.  I’ve never heard anyone speak of destroying the portal before, but if it can be done it would put an end to this threat once and for all.”

“Anubis never mentioned any other gateways like the one he destroyed,” said Michael.  “Maybe he never knew another existed.”

“That’s assuming that this gateway leads to Tartarus like the one in the tomb did,” his father shrugged.  “It certainly appears to.”

“It does lead to Tartarus,” Michael insisted.  “Uriel said so.  I saw him when I touched the sword.”

Caleb raised his eyebrows and eyed Michael curiously.

His father sighed.  “It also brings up the question of how many more gateways like it there might be out there.  And what kind of evil has been unleashed in other parts of the world. ”

It was an unsettling thought.  Everyone stood there for a few moments without speaking.

Mr. MacDonald broke the silence.  “Before we get ahead of ourselves, let’s take care of the business at hand.  What do we do now?”

“I think we need to introduce Rachel and Dorothy Stoker to our guests,” said Michael’s father.  “And then we need to come up with a plan to rescue Elizabeth, and find Olaf as quickly as possible.”

Dorothy Stoker stared at Alucard with fear and awe in her eyes.  If the old woman could get her hands on a stake, Michael thought to himself, she’d probably try and plunge it right through his heart.

“You must forgive me,” she said, eying Alucard suspiciously.  “I’ve never met one like you before.”  Then turning to Mr. MacDonald she whispered- as if the albino wasn’t even there- “Are you sure he can be trusted?”

Michael listened to Caleb Boone and his father repeat the entire conversation he’d heard just a few hours before.  Caleb looked as though his patience was just about exhausted.  He’d spent an entire day and the previous night explaining himself and his motives, and there was work to be done.  In the end, everyone was fairly satisfied and mostly in agreement about what needed to happen.

They would all be traveling back to Scotland.  McGinty Castle would serve as their base of operations and be a safe place to keep the sword while they searched for Olaf Van Helsing.  Mr. MacDonald had already spoken to Mr. Finnegan, and asked him to see what he could dig up before they returned.

Once all the plans had been made, Caleb and Alucard got up to leave, but promised to return later that evening for dinner and further discussion.

Rachel wasn’t at all happy about her family being dragged into the middle of a war with vampires, and she gave Michael and Liam quite an earful for leaving the hotel and returning to the burnt down ruins of their home.  She was also livid about the boys taking Cisco down into the family’s relic vault, even though they explained that they hadn’t really had any choice and didn’t know what the place was to begin with.

“That’s what you get for keeping secrets from us,” Michael told his mother in an unfriendly tone.  A few minutes later he was cleaning the hotel bathroom while Abigail bombarded her parents with questions about what they were talking about.  She was extremely annoyed by the fact that the Cisco Kid had gotten to see the relic vault before she did, and he’d even gotten to sit at the security station.  “I guess now he really is your sidekick,” she barked at her mother.

She found herself scrubbing the toilet while Michael cleaned the shower.

“I didn’t see any relics in there,” Liam told Mr. Belmont.

“Well I didn’t give you the whole tour.  There’ll be time for that someday.  At any rate, it’s not as impressive as the chamber of antiquities in McGinty Castle.  But we do have some pretty interesting things stashed down there.  Before today, my wife, your father, and Wandering Bear were the only ones who’d ever entered, besides the crew who built it, and I had all of them killed.”

Liam looked at him in horror.

“Oh, come on.  I’m only joking.  I had a crew come in from Japan.  They’ve all been sworn to secrecy.  Besides, they didn’t know exactly where they were anyway.  Didn’t even know what state they were in.”

Michael, who had been listening, leaned over to Abigail and whispered, “At least now I know where they hid Mom’s amulet.”

Abigail looked up from the toilet she was scrubbing and gave Michael a thoughtful look.  “I wonder what kinds of treasure they have hidden down there.”  Turning her head she shouted, “Dad, are we rich?”

“Well, your mother and I have some money.  I think you were a hundredaire the last time I checked your savings account.”

Michael laughed, and Abigail threatened to splash him with toilet water.

“Go ahead and do it,” he told her.  “I’ve always wanted to give someone a swirly.”

She decided not to test him.

Michael went with his mother to pick up the pizza they’d ordered over the phone.  “I can’t believe we’re having a vampire over for dinner,” he told her.

He knew what she was going to say before the words came out of her mouth.  “Well, I suppose it’s better than a vampire having us for dinner.”  They laughed together.  That was one good thing about his mother that could always be counted on- nothing cheered her up like a cheesy joke.

“So what do you suppose vampire’s like on their pizza,” he asked her with a smile.

She shrugged.  “Actually, I’d rather not think about it.”

“It just now occurred to me.  Aren’t vampires supposed to be afraid of the sunlight?  I think it’s supposed to hurt them.  Alucard didn’t seem to be affected though.”

“You’re right.  He seems different.  I mean, I’m certainly no expert on vampires, but he does seem quite unusual doesn’t he?”

Michael nodded.  “Maybe Mrs. Stoker knows something about it.  Anyway, I hope he’s okay with pepperoni.”

They picked up the pizzas and headed back to the hotel room.  Michael looked off toward the mountains and watched as the sun sank behind the snow-covered peaks.  He thought about his family’s house again, and the relic vault beneath it.  Knowing what existed underneath his home made him feel better, he was now more confident that the house would be rebuilt.  He thought about asking his mother if they would build it just as it had been before, or if they would do something a bit different, but she looked happier than she’d been all day, and he didn’t want to remind her about the fire.

They pulled up to the hotel and parked the car.  Michael hopped out and opened the back door to get the pizzas.  Somewhere nearby, he heard a woman scream.

“What was that?” his mother said, popping her head up over the top of the car.

“I think it came from over there in the alley behind the hotel,” Michael said, trotting off to go take a look.

“Hey, wait a minute,” she called after him.  “Where do you think you’re going?”

He ran around the corner of the building to see a young woman standing by the dumpsters, cornered by two men.  One of them was yelling and cursing at her.  The other one backhanded her, and she stumbled over, crashing head first into one of the dumpsters.

Michael gritted his teeth.  “HEY, WHAT'S GOING ON OVER THERE?” he shouted at them.  They turned to see him, and then looked at each other and laughed.  Disregarding him, they returned their attention to the terrified young woman.

Michael looked around frantically for some sort of weapon.  If only he had his bow.  He turned to see his mother run up from the corner of the building.

“Those two men, they’re beating up that girl,” he told her angrily.

“I see them,” she said, tossing him her cell phone.  “Call 911.  Hurry.”  She drew out a snub-nosed .38 revolver and walked cautiously toward the men.

“Get away from her,” she commanded them.  They ignored her, and continued to beat the woman as she advanced.

Michael looked down at the phone.  He was so angry and full of adrenaline that his hands were shaking.  He managed to put in a 9 and a 1, but before he could put in the last number, he saw the two men rush at his mother.  He dropped the phone at the sound of the first shot- CRACK.  The shot was followed by three more- CRACK- CRACK- CRACK, and the bodies of both men tumbled to the ground at his mother’s feet.

Michael ran up from behind and threw his arms around her.  “Are you okay?”

She nodded.  “I think so,” she answered, giving him a scared smile.  He noticed that she was shaking too.  “Did you call the police?  Where’s the phone?”

“I dropped it!”  He turned and ran back, stooping to pick it up.  He opened it up to dial the number, but the display was black.  He tried to turn it on, but it didn’t show any signs of life.  “Oh no, I think I might have broken it,” he yelled.  “Mom, I—,”

He looked up to see one of the men and the woman they’d been attacking each holding one of his mother’s arms.  The other man was behind her; he ran his fingers through her blonde hair before clenching it into his fist.  Then he pulled her head roughly to the side and sunk his long fangs into her neck.

“NOOOO,” Michael screamed, charging toward them.  It seemed that time nearly stopped as he ran toward his mother.  He had to help her, had to do something, even if it only meant dying beside her.  He watched helplessly as she convulsed and was lowered down onto the ground.  The man who had been holding her arm caught Michael by the throat, squeezing off his air and lifting him off the ground.  He kicked and grasped for his captor’s hand, but after a few moments everything started to go black.

The vampire dropped him to the ground.  He felt his skull bang into the asphalt, and gasped to draw breath back into his lungs.  The big man grabbed him once more, and pulled him up by the back of his shirt.  He spun Michael around to face his mother and held him in a bear hug.

“You’re gonna watch this,” he spat.  “And then it’s gonna be your turn.”

The vamp who’d sunk its teeth into his mother bit into his own wrist, and held it up to her mouth.

She squirmed and fought to get away from him, but it was no use.  After a few moments she stopped struggling, and her body went limp.

“Your turn,” the woman told Michael as she stooped down in front of him.  She was beautiful and terrifying, and the aroma of her perfume mixed with the decaying smell of her breath.  He fought with all his strength to break free, but it was no use.  He felt her teeth pierce the skin of his neck and sink down into his flesh.  But even as pain and horror enveloped him, all he could think of was his mother.  Was she dead?  Was she one of them now?  Would he soon be joining them as well?

He gazed up at the moon.  Its rays pierced him for a moment before he saw a black mist descend through the sky, momentarily obscuring its light.  The man standing over him yelled something he couldn’t understand.  A dark figure moved up behind him, and plucked his head from his body as easily as one might remove a cork from a wine bottle.  As his body fell it crumbled into dust.

The woman let Michael go, as did the man who was holding him from behind.  He scampered to his mother and threw himself over her, while his assailants fell down to their knees in front of the cloaked figure.

“Lord Alucard!” the woman shrieked.  Michael had never seen anyone look so terrified.  “Have mercy on us,” she begged him pitifully.

“You who are without mercy now plead for it?”  He looked at the blood dripping from her lips, and the marks on Michael’s neck.  “I’m sorry, but it’s too late for that.”

For a brief instant, Michael saw the moonlight streak along the edge of Alucard’s blade, and before he could blink, the remains of the woman were disintegrating into fire and ash. The other man began to speak, but Alucard silenced him before he could get a word out.

The sound of sirens began to echo through the distance.

“We need to get out of here,” Alucard said, pulling Michael to his feet.  “This is not something we can easily explain to the police.”  He slung Michael’s mother over his shoulder and ushered him into the shadows.

“Is she going to be alright?” Michael wept.  He squeezed his mother’s hand.  It felt eerily cold and lifeless, but he thought she looked like an angel lying there, asleep.  Abigail lay silently cuddled up beside her.

“Yes,” Mrs. Stoker told him.  “Thank God Alucard arrived when he did.  Otherwise, it sounds like we might have lost you both.”

“They were trying to turn us, weren’t they?” he asked her, wiping the tears from his eyes.  “They wanted information about the sword, so they were trying to turn us?”

The old woman nodded.  “Yes.  And for a brief moment, your mother had been turned.  However, in order to make the change complete and permanent, the infected victim must make their first kill.  Alucard broke the curse when he killed the one who had bitten her.  If he hadn’t shown up….”  She gave him a warm smile.  “But it’s over now.  She’s going to be all right, she just needs some rest.  In a day or two she’ll be as good as new.”

Michael rubbed his head, which pounded.  His neck burned and ached.  He was angry, but he was also glad that the vampires were dead for what they’d done to his mother.  His head was swimming.  For a few long moments, she had been one of them.  Would she have been evil like them?  Would either of them have had a choice.  He thought of the woman who’d bitten him.  She had been young and beautiful, at least when she’d been turned into a monster.  Had she been a good person?  Had she been someone’s mother, or perhaps someone’s little sister?  Had she ever been given a choice?

Mrs. Stoker handed him a glass of water and some pain pills.  “Here you are, my dear.  Now off to bed and get some rest.  I’ll keep an eye on your mother and sister.  In the morning I’ll show you some ways to protect yourself from such attacks in the future.”

He thanked her and headed to his room.  As exhausted as he was, Michael felt too agitated to sleep.  Going into the bathroom, he threw the pain pills into the garbage and splashed some water on his face.  He felt that taking the pills would be like admitting defeat to his attackers.  He wouldn’t allow them that, even now.  He rubbed his eyes and looked into the mirror, they were bloodshot and you could tell he’d been crying, but at least he had a good excuse.

Someone began pounding at the door, and it startled him.  He knew at once it was Liam from the heavy-handed shave and a haircut knock- minus the last two beats.

Liam heaved his arms around Michael as soon as he was through the door.

“Your da told me about what happened, I’m glad you and your mum made it back okay.”

Michael groaned.  He hadn’t realized until Liam grabbed him just how beaten-up he was from the encounter.

“Sorry about that.”  Liam released his grip and stepped back to look his friend over.

“It’s okay.  Is my dad still in your room talking with everyone?”

Liam nodded.  “I don’t think I’ve ever seen him look so angry.  He’s absolutely livid.”

“I know.  I could see it in his face when he was in there with my mom and me.  He was trying not to show it, but I could tell.”

“Well, I guess I should get out of here and let you rest.  I just wanted to see for myself that you were okay.”

“Thanks, but I can’t sleep right now.  I’d kind of like to go back to your room and talk to Alucard.  Everything happened so fast; I never got a chance to thank him.”

The two boys returned to the MacDonalds’ room where they found their fathers speaking with Alucard and Caleb Boone.

“Michael,” his father said, looking irritated to see him, “you should be getting some rest.  You’ve been through a lot tonight.”

“I couldn’t sleep,” he shrugged.  “And I wanted to thank Alucard for rescuing Mom and me.”

“As I told your father, no thanks are necessary, I’ve been fighting against these forces for a long time now.  It’s unfortunate that your family has become involved.”

“Well, you two might as well come in and have a seat,” Mr. MacDonald told them.  “Alucard was just about to tell us a bit more about himself.  Michael, why don’t you lie down and rest on Liam’s bed.  There you go.”

Michael looked at his father.  Although he was calm and quiet, he could see the fury bubbling just beneath the surface.  Michael knew that he’d do whatever he could to pay back those who were responsible for attacking their family.  He was glad, but it also scared him a little to see his dad so upset.

Caleb frowned at him in a way that told him he was also angry about what happened.  He looked as though he’d taken the attack personally for some reason.  Maybe the young man really did consider his dad a brother.

Michael’s father took in a long, deep breath before turning to Alucard.  “I dropped my guard when I shouldn’t have, and my wife and son suffered because of it.  Say whatever you will, but I’m grateful you were there.  You have my thanks.”

Alucard began to open his mouth to answer, but instead he simply gave Mr. Belmont a nod and looked down toward the ground.  After a moment, he raised his gaze once again.  “I’ve never found trust a thing to come easily, either in giving it or getting it from others.  Most of my life has been spent in isolation, living in the shadows and fighting this war on my own.  But I’ve come to realize that if my brother is to be stopped, it will take more than my efforts alone.”

“I think it’s fair to say that everyone in this room has a horse in this race,” Mr. Belmont told him.  “You’ve earned my trust, but in order to succeed we’ll need to know everything about your story that could possibly help us.”

“Well,” Alucard began with a sad sigh. “I guess I should start from the beginning.”

“My mother once told me about the night of my birth.  It occurred during a particularly cold winter, under the light of a full moon, in one of the highest towers of Dracula’s Castle.  When the midwife handed me to my mother, my white skin and red eyes were so shocking to her that she nearly threw me out the tower window to drown in the river below.  The nursemaid stopped her from doing so.

"Do not think that the woman was unkind.  Her heart was always full of charity and empathy for others, especially me.  But during those days, her eyes were beginning to open to the world around her.  It was like a painting of something beautiful being washed away to reveal a grotesque composition behind it; that’s the way she later described it to me.

"My father, the man you know as Dracula, had been holding control of her mind, but after years of being blinded by his manipulation she was slowly waking up.  I don’t know why.  Perhaps she was getting stronger, or perhaps he was becoming more complacent, ensured of her unwavering devotion to him.  She had indeed always loved him, even to the end, I believe.  But she had a pure and chaste soul, and in order to gain and keep her love it was necessary for him to blind her to his evil ways.

"I believe it was my birth that finally pushed her over the edge.  She had been questioning the things her mind was letting in, but when I arrived, she could deny the truth no longer.  The strangeness of my appearance came upon her like a downpour of rain, washing away the final remnants of the illusion to divulge the reality around her.

"After coming to her senses, she embraced me and cared for me, lamenting the idea that she had ever meant me harm.  For nine years she endured the horrors of my father’s castle.  He loved her and saw that no harm came to her, or to me.  Yet the torments of living in that place and the atrocities that we witnessed tore at her soul; she tried to shelter me from it as much as she could.

"Just after my ninth birthday, my mother discovered a gruesome secret.  She overheard my father discussing his plans for me with one of his dark priests.  It seemed that if he would be willing to offer me as a sacrifice unto the demonic forces to which he paid tribute, greater powers would be granted to him.  Powers that would have ensured him victory over his enemies, and allowed him to be the most triumphant conqueror since Alexander the Great.

"I would have been a more valuable sacrifice than my other brothers.  They were all human, born before our father was cursed, but I was a dhampir.  Since my mother was a human and my father a vampire, I had all of the abilities that came with that curse, but none of the weaknesses.  Perhaps my father envied me in a way.  Perhaps that made it easier to commit to his evil plans for me.  Perhaps he never loved me at all.

"The very next morning, my mother slipped away with me.  She took me back with her to a nearby village, the place of her birth.  She had hoped to find her father or brother so that they could hide us and give us shelter.

"However, we never got far enough to find them.  As we approached the village, a sentry recognized my mother and shot her through the heart with an arrow.  Apparently the people of the region knew who she was and considered her a witch, just as much a monster as Dracula.  She was dead before she hit the ground.  I never had a chance to tell her goodbye, to thank her for protecting me, for loving me even though I was strange and different.

"As I stooped down to embrace her fallen body, two more arrows came to find their mark.  One pierced my right leg, and another went through my right shoulder.  Without thinking, I tore the arrows away and rushed at the archer, ripping him apart with my bare hands.  Devastated by my mother’s murder, and horrified by what I had done to the sentry, I withdrew into the forest and hid.

"After the sun went down that night, my father learned about what had happened, and took his revenge upon the entire village.  He slaughtered every man, woman, and child who lived there for what happened to my mother.  He came looking for me as well, whether to carry out his plans for me or because of remorse I do not know, and to this day I do not care.  At the time all I could think of was getting away.

"For decades I remained hidden, running from my father’s minions and barely keeping ahead of them.  One night they caught up with me, and although I fought fiercely against them I was eventually overpowered.  They bound me and began the journey back to my father.

"On the road to the castle, something quite extraordinary happened.  As we approached the fortress, a man charged at us from the woods.  He changed his form into a dragon, and ripped through my captors like a scythe slicing wheat.  I was certain he would kill me next, but instead of feeling fear, I felt… a deep sense of relief.  Even as the beast stood over me screeching with rage I remember resigning myself to fate.  I was going to be with my mother again.  I didn’t struggle; I simply closed my eyes and prepared for death- but death did not come.

"The dragon turned back into a man, and set me free.  He became a mentor and teacher who took me under his wing.  He taught me how to take care of myself.  He taught me how to live in the shadows, how to fight, and how to control my ability to change form.  Apart from my mother, he was the only true family I had ever known; yet I never learned his true name.  I knew him only as the Dragon.

"After the death of my father, I never saw him again.  Whether he walks the earth today or is buried beneath it I do not know, but since his departure I’ve been using the skills he taught me to stand against my brother Mihnea, who has always sought to take Dracula’s place.  But now the threat is greater than ever.  Mihnea must not be allowed to gain control over the portal in our father’s castle.  I can not stop him alone, and I humbly ask for any help you can give me.”

Michael’s head was beginning to swim, and he was struggling to stay awake.  He wanted to hear- needed to hear Alucard’s story.  After listening to his tale and experiencing the night’s events, he now felt they could trust him, and Caleb too.  But he didn’t like what Alucard had said about “the Dragon.”  What if this was Zuriel- the same man who’d kidnapped his parents and nearly gotten them all killed?  The same man that Anubis had sacrificed himself to stop?  After all, Uriel had warned George about him after giving him the sword.  He would ask Alucard more about it later, but for now he had no choice but to sleep.

Michael awoke the next morning with a pounding headache that began at the base of his neck and ran to the back of his eyes.  He looked out the window and rubbed his temples as his eyes adjusted to the light.  Down in the secluded park below, he saw a strange black and white form walking beneath the trees.  It looked like Alucard.

Michael threw on his clothes and opened the door to find Liam in the hallway.  “Alucard is down there in the park.  Come on, I want to talk to him.”

“What if he doesn’t want to talk to us?  To be honest, the bloke scares me a bit.  I’m still not sure we can trust him.  What if all that stuff you and your mom went through was just a show?  What if Alucard set it all up to gain our trust?”

Michael had already thought of that, but he didn’t think it was the case.  He still wasn’t completely convinced the man could be trusted, but he had a good feeling about him.

“Well, talking with him will help us figure that out, won’t it,” he taunted.

Liam followed him outside, pausing only to grab some bacon from the continental breakfast bar near the lobby.

They found Alucard sitting on a park bench, legs crossed in front of him, casting out handfuls of popcorn.  A small group of ravens had gathered to collect the treat.  It was an odd sight.  Alucard’s garb could have fooled the birds into thinking he was an unusually large cousin, if not for his milky white skin, which contrasted sharply with their black plumage.

Michael and Liam sat down beside him, but he made no move to greet them.  He kept his eyes fixed upon the birds, which were hopping around playfully on the grass.

“Beautiful, aren’t they?” he said without lifting his head.

Michael glanced down to watch them scamper after another handful.

“Consider the ravens, for they neither sow nor reap,” Alucard said, “they have no storeroom nor barn, and yet God feeds them.”

“How much more valuable you are than the birds!” Liam added.

Alucard’s lips curled into something that suspiciously resembled a smile.

“They are incredibly smart creatures.  Did you know that a raven will actually call a wolf over to an animal carcass so that it can do all the work of tearing it apart for him?”

Liam grimaced.  “That’s a little, er, macabre.  But, uh, very interesting.”

Alucard finally lifted his red eyes to look at them.  “Macabre?  Maybe a bit,” he shrugged.  “But they can’t help what they are.  They do what they can to survive.”  He threw them more popcorn.

“I’ve always liked ravens too, actually,” Michael told him.  “I’ve always thought they seemed playful.  I think Poe got them all wrong.”

Alucard smiled once again, obviously approving of Michael’s words.  He moved his eyes down to gaze at the birds again.

Michael hoped they’d broken the ice.  “Mr. Alucard, do you think Mihnea means Elizabeth any harm?  I mean, what exactly does he want from her?”

He sat silent for a moment before responding.  “I don’t think Mihnea means your friend any immediate harm.  I believe he is actually quite fond of her in his own way.”

“In his own way?” Michael asked.  “I don’t know if I like the sound of that.”

Alucard frowned.  “I’ve never known my brother to truly love anyone or anything.  At least not in the sense of a giving, sacrificial love.”  He threw more of his buttery treat to the ravens.  “My brother is an extremely self-absorbed man.  He looks at people only from a perspective of how they might benefit him.”

“So, you’re confident he won’t hurt her then?” asked Liam.

The man raised his white eyebrow.  “No, I have no such confidence.  But I don’t believe his intent is to harm her.  At least not right now, not while she serves whatever purpose he has in store for her.”

“And what purpose does he have for her?” Michael pressed.  “What does he want her for?”

Alucard looked at them sadly, and with something that hinted of pity.

“You two are only boys.  You should not have to concern yourselves with such matters.”

The ravens hopped around over Liam’s feet, racing for a piece of the falling popcorn.

“You might be right,” Michael protested angrily.  “But whether we should or not doesn’t really matter does it?  We’re caught up in the middle of all this now whether we want to be or not.”

Liam frowned.  “If she was a friend of yours, you’d want to know what was happening wouldn’t you?  You’d want to try and find a way to help!”

Alucard paused for a moment, and then nodded slowly.  “Your fathers are planning on going to Romania to retrieve her.  I will be guiding them, and I promise that I’ll do everything I can to ensure she returns to you safely.”

“Thank you,” Michael told him.  “But you still haven't told us what he wants with her.”

“You seem like a fairly intelligent young man.  Why don’t you tell me what Mihnea wants with Elizabeth?”

Michael and Liam looked at each other, each knowing what the other was thinking.

Liam spoke first. “He wants to make her his bride.”

Michael’s eyes fell to the ground.  He knew what his friend was going to say, and he didn’t want to say it himself.  He felt that saying it out loud might make him sick.

Liam shifted nervously, and one of the ravens that had crept up close to him hopped a little farther away.

“He wants to have a child with her, to offer it as a sacrifice.  He’s going to try and become more powerful by doing to his own child what your father tried to do to you.”

Alucard cast out another handful of popcorn.  “Yes,” he said softly.  “Although I don’t know with complete certainty that those are his intentions.  I’ve come to believe recently that Mihnea’s insatiable hunger for power will lead him further down the path of depravity than even our father traveled.”

“But why Elizabeth?” Michael pleaded.  “After all this time, hundreds of years, why has he chosen her?”

“My brother has only recently discovered what our father’s plans for me were.  I’ve never told him the story as I’ve explained it to all of you.  I could never trust him with such information.”

Michael clenched his fists.  “Well, HOW did he find out then?”

“I don’t know.  Someone or something must have told him.  He’s been dabbling in the occult all his life; who knows what kind of dark forces he might have consulted.”

“Elizabeth won’t go along with any of this once she finds out who he really is,” said Liam.

“No, but she won’t have any choice at first.  He’ll control her mind and blind her to the things he doesn’t want her to see.  Eventually his control over her will weaken, and she’ll be slowly driven insane by the things she sees.”  Alucard gazed into the distance.  “That’s what happened to my mother.  She was a good and kind-hearted woman too.  She didn’t deserve what happened to her.”

Alucard reached into the popcorn bag once more, but found it empty.  “No,” he said determinedly.  “We won’t abandon your friend to that fate.  Too much is at risk; I won’t let her suffer the way that my mother did.”  He rose to his feet.  Michael could see the fire burning behind his red, narrowed eyes.  “Come, there are still many things to discuss before we leave.”

CHAPTER EIGHT

The Netherlands

Rachel Belmont looked down upon the white, fluffy clouds beneath the plane.  The final rays of the evening sun shone through them as if the doors of heaven had been opened, and she could almost see inside.  It was a beautiful sight, and she longed to be out there, soaring through the sky on her own wings.  She’d always hated flying in airplanes; it seemed so artificial.

Michael, Abigail and Liam were all seated behind her, sleeping peacefully.  Caleb Boone was there too, sitting quietly and sharpening his swords, immersed in some determined thought.

Rachel got up from her seat and stuck her head into the cockpit, where Declan and Mark sat flying the plane.

“Are we there yet?” she asked her husband with a smile.

“Actually, pretty darn close.  We’ll be landing in Eindhoven in about twenty minutes.”

Finnegan had come up with a strong lead on the location of Olaf Van Helsing.  In a rural area south of the city of Eindhoven stood a small orphanage where a boy by the name of Olaf Van den Berg and his sister Magda were staying.  Finnegan said that they matched the description of the Van Helsing children, and he was reasonably convinced that this was where the trail led.  Rachel wondered where the old butler had been able to get that kind of information, especially when someone as rich and powerful as Mihnea was searching for the children and was coming up cold.  The Nodens Guild must have some pretty resourceful members, she thought.

Now they were flying over the Netherlands en route to the orphanage, racing to get to the children before Mihnea learned of their location.  Alucard had returned to Dracula’s Castle to distract his brother, and to investigate the whereabouts of Elizabeth.  He insisted on going alone, as taking anyone else along would only distract and slow him down.

Rachel kissed her husband on the forehead and went back to her seat.  Despite everything that had happened over the last few days, in a strange way she was feeling better now than she had in weeks, months maybe.  The funny thing was, she wasn’t sure why.  Maybe she was excited about starting a new adventure.  She’d always enjoyed exploring the world with the man she loved, and going from one great adventure to the next.

However, the thought of putting her children in danger was out of the question.  Fear was something she’d overcome years ago, something she hadn’t felt in a long time- but that was before Michael and Abby had gotten involved.  They’d be safe at McGinty Castle, and as soon as this business at the orphanage was done the kids would be dropped off to stay with Finnegan and Dorothy Stoker.  Michael wasn’t particularly happy about being left behind, but he’d just have to live with it.

Had they ever been on a job this dangerous before?  She didn’t think so.  Dozens of images flashed through her mind as she thought of all the places she and Mark had visited together, all the wonderful things they’d seen.  She’d never expected to have her family get involved in anything like this.

Leaning back in her chair she took a deep breath and forced her lips into a grin.  Everything was going to be all right, she told herself.  But then she suddenly thought of Elizabeth, and her stomach hurt.  She felt guilty for even trying to feel happiness.  How could she when her best friend’s life was in danger?

Rolling her head to the window, Rachel noticed that the clouds outside were growing darker.  They’d been white and fluffy just a few moments ago.  A black swirling mist took form around the wing, and then a loud bang resounded outside, followed by the sound of an engine stalling.

Liam forced his eyes open.  “What was that?”

Rachel hurried back to the cockpit.  “Uh, was that what I think it was?”

Mark frowned at her.  “Looks like our port engine just went out.”

“Great!  Something really weird is going on out there.  I saw a black mist hovering over the wing.”

“A black mist?” Declan asked her.  “I don’t know anything about that.  I checked everything out myself before we left, everything looked great.”

“We’ll be fine, we can still bring her in on one engine,” Mark assured her.  “But you’d better get back there and make sure everyone is buckled up.”

Just as she turned to go, another bang rang out, followed by the sound of an engine stalling.  Rachel gasped and turned to her husband with wide eyes.

Mark growled.  “Honey, get back there and start getting parachutes on everyone.  We’re going to have to jump for it.”

She went back to see that everyone already had this figured out.  Michael and Liam had their chutes on and were tightening the straps, and Caleb was helping Abigail.

“MOMMY,” she screeched in terror.

“Well, you guys have always wanted to try skydiving,” Rachel stooped down and held her daughter’s face between her hands.

“THAT WAS MICHAEL, NOT ME.  WHAT DO YOU THINK I AM, CRAZY?”

Rachel grabbed her and squeezed tightly.  “Just remember the things we showed you, you’ll be fine.”

When all three of the children had their packs fastened securely, Caleb opened up the door.

“Keep everyone together,” Mrs. Belmont told him.  I won’t be far behind you.

He nodded at her solemnly.

Abigail opened her mouth to protest when Michael grabbed her hand and pulled her out of the plane along with him.  Rachel shuddered at her daughter’s scream, which faded quickly as they fell away.

“CHEERS!” yelled Liam as he hopped out behind them.

Finally, Caleb nodded and dropped out as well.

Rachel rushed back up to Mark and Declan.

“So what’s the plan?” she asked them.

“The plan is for you to get off this plane,” he told her.  “Declan and I will try and bring it down someplace safe.”  He saw her fear and hesitation.  “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure I get out in time.  Declan will be the last out, since he doesn’t have to worry about a parachute.”

Mark was right; Declan would be fine as long as he got out before the plane hit the ground.  He had the ability to change into an Osprey, and could fly himself to safety.

Mark marched her back over to the door.  She began to shake, and tears were starting to run down her cheeks.

“I wish you’d come now.”

He shook his head.  “Not yet, Declan needs me, we wouldn’t want this plane dropping through the roof of somebody’s house.  We’ll try to find a place to land it, but if not then we’ll bring it down in the wilderness somewhere.  I promise we’ll be careful.”

He pulled her in close, placing his hand behind her head and kissing her gently on the lips.  He breathed in the smell of her hair and perfume, and held her tightly for as long as he dared.  “I love you,” he told her.  She went limp in his arms, and he placed a final kiss on her forehead before letting her drop from the side of the plane.

Michael Belmont soared through the clouds, scanning the dense green and white forest spread out far below.  He'd often dreamed of flying, but being forced to jump from an airplane wasn’t exactly how he’d envisioned giving it a try.  He felt energized and thrilled, but was also worried about crashing into one of those tall trees.  What if his parachute got hung up in the branches and nobody found him?  He’d just hang there until he died and someday a hiker or hunter would find him hanging there like a Halloween skeleton.  He knew it could happen, he’d seen it in a World War II movie once.

You always think of the stupidest things at the stupidest moments, he told himself inside and then laughed out loud.  He couldn’t stop himself from laughing, from yelling out in joy at what he was experiencing.  It was even better than he’d always hoped.  If only he had the ability to control his descent, to fly around wherever he wanted to like his mother and Mr. MacDonald did.

Abigail, who was only a short distance below him, was screaming out as well.  Her screams however, did not tell Michael she was enjoying herself.  He felt sorry for her, but at the same time it was a bit satisfying because she’d been such a brat lately.

Michael dove down through the air to his flailing sister.

“PULL THE CORD,” he shouted at her.  He wasn’t about to do it before she did so he could watch her plummet to the earth and break like an egg.  Luckily, she stopped screaming and did as she was told.  Michael shot down past her and waited a few moments before he deployed his own chute.

He tried as hard as he could to steer himself away from the tree line and toward one of the small open valleys for the best possible landing.  He pulled it off, but barely.  He landed a bit harder than he would have liked, but luckily a thick layer of snow broke his fall.

Michael got to his feet and looked up to see his sister come down into the forest a few hundred yards behind him.  He unstrapped his parachute and headed into the woods.  It was already starting to get dark, and the canopy of the trees made things even worse.  Pulling out a small flashlight from his emergency kit, Michael beelined for the spot where he’d seen Abigail come down.

It didn’t take long for him to find her.  Abigail’s parachute had gotten tangled in a tree, but her toes appeared to be touching the ground.  The lines were tight, and she screeched in frustration while squirming to get loose.

“Hold on,” Michael commanded her sharply.  “Just calm down and I’ll help you.”  He had to wrestle with her a bit to get her to hold still, but a few moments later she was free.  She glared at him while gathering her messy blonde hair and pulling it back into a ponytail.

“Don’t give me that look, it’s not my fault the plane broke down.”

“Oh, SHUT UP,” she yelled back.  “You’re the one who’s always going on about sky-diving and hang-gliding and learning to fly a plane.  I bet you really enjoyed that, DIDN’T YOU?”

“Well actually, yeah, I did.  And I was glad to see you enjoyed it too.”  He threw his arms up and began to scream and flail around, mocking the way she’d looked while falling through the air.  He saw her punch coming out of the corner of his eye and barely managed to duck out of the way.

“Hey, knock it off you two,” someone whispered angrily from behind them.  “You’re making way too much noise, and we’re not the only ones out here.”

They turned to see that Caleb had snuck up on them.  His sword was drawn and his left index finger was placed over his lips.  Abigail gazed up at him and smiled innocently.  Michael had noticed on the plane that his sister seemed to have a crush on Caleb.  He rolled his eyes at her.  At least she would behave herself better when he was around.

“Did either of you see where Liam landed?” he whispered to them.  They shook their heads.

“Weren’t you above him?” Michael responded.  “You didn’t see what direction he went?”

Caleb shook his head.  “I was attacked.  I was too distracted to notice.”

“Attacked?”  Michael was shocked.  “You mean in the air?  While you were falling?”

“Yeah, now come on.  We need to find your friend and your mother and make our way to that orphanage.  It’s only about six miles from here.”

A six-mile hike through the night, that ought to be fun, Michael thought to himself.  Especially if they were being chased by vampires.

“How are we going to find our mom and Liam?” Abigail asked.

“Mom shouldn’t have any trouble finding us,” Michael reminded her.  After all, she literally had the vision of a hawk.

“Is she a good tracker or something?” Caleb asked him.

“Uh, yeah, something like that.  Anyway, if Liam were nearby, I’m sure we’d have heard him yelling by now,” Michael told them.  Then a pang of fear shot through him.  “I wonder if they were attacked too?”

“Follow me, but remember- be quiet and keep your ears open.”  Caleb led them in a short search of the area; the remnants of twilight were gone now, and although the moon was large and fairly bright, the forest was painfully dark.  Caleb wouldn’t let them use their flashlights.  “If there are vampires out here they’ll be able to smell us,” he told them.  “But I don’t want the light to disorient me if we’re attacked.  Let your eyes adjust to the night.  You’ll be surprised at how well you can see.”

He led them around the area for quite some time, but they turned up no sign of Liam or their mother.

“What are we going to do now?” Michael asked.

Caleb thought for a moment.  “I need to get you two to safety, then I can go out looking again.  Hopefully we’ll run into them along the way, though.  If they have any sense of where they are I’m sure they’ll be heading for that orphanage.”

Despite Michael’s protests, Caleb insisted that they move on swiftly toward their destination.

“Be quiet and listen,” he reminded them.  “The less noise we make the more likely we are to hear our friends…or our enemies.”

Michael looked at his watch and calculated the time difference in his head.  It was just past eleven o’clock locally, and he was exhausted.

The orphanage could be seen in the distance ahead of them.  It was a large, multi-storied mansion, and looked inviting enough, at least in the dark.

They took a look around, but could find no sign of their mother or Liam.

“I’ve been thinking,” Caleb told them, scanning the forest around them for threats.  “Things haven’t gone exactly to plan.  We’re going to need to improvise.”

Michael and Abigail looked at each other apprehensively.

“Look, I know what you’re both thinking,” Caleb said.  “I know you’re scared about what’s happened to Liam and your mom and dad, but you both have to be brave.  We need to assume that everyone is okay until we hear otherwise, alright?”

They nodded.  Caleb’s voice was strong and assuring, and it seemed to give them strength.

Michael knelt down to stretch out a cramp in his leg.  “What’s the plan?”

“Here’s what I’m thinking.  The two of you go up there and turn yourselves in, and I’ll head out to do another search.  I’ll get back as quickly as I can to keep an eye on things out here.”

“Turn ourselves in?” asked Michael with a grin.  “It’s not like we’re criminals or something.”

“You know what I mean,” said Caleb with a dismissive wave of his hand.  “Just tell them that you’re tourists who got separated from your parents.  They’ll probably contact the police and file a report, but in the meantime you’ll have a place to stay while we investigate these two Van den Berg kids.  Time is of the essence, and we can’t wait for the others.  We need to find out if this Olaf is the one we’re looking for and if so, do all we can to protect him and his sister.”

Abigail smiled at him sweetly.  “Michael and I can figure out if this is the kid we’re looking for.  Sounds like a pretty good plan to me.”

Caleb could have suggested that we all go down the chimney like Santa Claus and it would’ve sounded good to Abby, thought Michael.  “I can’t think of a better plan,” he added.  “We’ll do it.  Just promise you’ll do everything you can to find Mom and Liam.”

“I will,” said Caleb.  “Hopefully I’ll be returning with them.  Just keep your eyes open.  After I finish the search, I’ll be back to keep watch on things around here.  Do you still have the crosses and holy water that Dorothy Stoker gave you?”

Michael nodded.

“How will we contact you if we find out anything?” Abigail asked.

“I’ll be watching, but be careful!  I think we may have been followed.  I’m try to eliminate any threats before heading back the way we came.”

They all wished each other good luck, and Caleb slipped into the shadows as Michael led Abigail over the lawn and then up the driveway to the front door of the orphanage.

They couldn’t see any lights on inside, but Michael rang the bell on the door and waited.  After a few minutes, he rang it again, and it was a few moments more before they noticed a light come on inside.

A bent old woman opened up the door, and upon seeing them said something in a kind voice that they didn’t understand.

“Uh, we don’t speak Netherlandian,” Michael told her.  “Do you know English?”

“Ah, oh yes,” she hummed.  “Come sit.”  She led them into the lobby where some comfortable couches awaited.  “You wait.  I be back in minutes.”  She shuffled off out of sight.

“It was Dutch, you moron,” Abigail said.

Michael shrugged at her.

“There’s no such thing as Netherlandian.  You can be such a neanderthal sometimes.”

Michael enjoyed playing stupid to aggravate his sister, although he knew better than to do it to his mother or Elizabeth.  Either one of them would have made him write a paper about Dutch culture for such a comment.  It only reminded him of how worried he was for them both.

After a few minutes the old lady returned with a younger woman.  She had short golden hair, which could have used a comb run through it, and looked to be in her mid-thirties.  Her face was pretty and kind.  She sat down across from them, crossed her legs, and smiled.  “My name is Sally Voss, I’m the headmistress here at the Geluk Orphanage.”

“Pleased to meet you.  I’m Michael Belmont, and this is my sister Abigail.”

The woman nodded kindly.  “And what brings you to our door in the middle of the night?  Are you two in need of some help?”

“We were flying to Eindhoven with our parents when the engines on the plane cut out.” Abigail blurted.  “We got on our parachutes and jumped, and then we walked until we got here.”

The woman looked fascinated.  “My goodness!  I heard about the plane on the radio.  It crashed about ten miles northeast of here.  The report said that it didn’t look like anyone was killed.  Do you know if your parents got off the plane?”

Michael and Abigail smiled at each other in relief.  “Yes,” Michael said.  “I think they did.  But we don’t know where they are.”

Abigail began to sob.  “Can…can we stay here until our parents come to get us?”

Michael was surprised.  He didn’t know his sister was such a good actor.  But then he looked into her eyes and saw that she wasn’t acting.  She had plenty to cry about; that was for sure.  He put his arm around her.

Sally got up and sat next to the girl, pulling her into a hug.  “Everything will be alright, sweetie.  Of course the two of you can stay here until everything gets worked out.  Mrs. Van Dyck will take you two into the kitchen and get you a bite to eat while I prepare your beds.”

After the late night snack the two were escorted to their rooms.  Abigail went with Sally, and Mrs. Van Dyck took Michael up to the third floor.  The room had two sets of bunk beds, but only two of the beds had boys in them.  There was a small table with some chairs, two wardrobes, and some dressers.  It was a simple place, but it looked cozy enough.

Michael picked one of the empty beds- a top bunk near the window, and settled in as best he could.

He worried about Liam, Mr. MacDonald, and his parents for a long time before falling asleep.

Abigail was having trouble sleeping.  She kept bobbing in and out of the world of dreams, and whenever she was able to nod back off it seemed that something disturbed her.

“Abigail.”

She turned over onto her side.  Dreamy, ethereal voices kept bouncing around inside her head.

“Abigail,” came the wispy voice again.  It was accompanied this time by a soft, chilling scratch.

Her eyes shot open and she looked around.  The other girl in the room lay still in her bed, where she appeared to be sleeping soundly.

“Abigail,” came the voice again.  It was a comforting, familiar voice.  But where was it coming from?  It was all around her, or possibly inside her head; it was almost like hearing it from headphones.  She reached up and touched her ears to make sure she wasn’t wearing any.

The voice came again, and the scratching too.  Although she couldn’t tell where the voice was coming from, the scratching was definitely coming from the window.  She stood up out of bed, now completely awake.  She walked slowly to the window and looked through the glass into the black night beyond.

A hand rose up out of the darkness.  With a long sharp fingernail it scratched at the glass.  A cold chill went down Abigail’s back, and she gasped as the dark, ghostly face of a man appeared on the other side.  It was Mihnea.

“Abigail, open the window,” he called to her.  He smiled lovingly.  His face was so handsome and kind.  In a way he reminded her of her dad.  The look in his eyes made her feel safe.  But he was so handsome.  She could picture herself marrying someone who looked so princely one day.

“Open the window, Abigail, invite me in.  Please, it’s cold out here.”

It did look cold outside.  Why was he out there anyway?  He really should come inside and get warm.  She unlocked the window and slid it open.  The cold wind swept in around her and lifted her hair off her shoulders.

Mihnea smiled again.  “Good, Abigail.  That’s good.  I know you’ve been scared.  Invite me in and I’ll protect you.”

He was right; she had been scared lately.  But why had she been feeling scared?  She couldn’t seem to remember.  Her mind was so clouded.

“Abigail, let me come in and I’ll keep you safe.  Invite me in.”

She looked into his eyes and struggled to remember.  His eyes made her want to forget.  So did his voice.  But no, she had to remember; she had to make herself remember.  She hadn’t been feeling safe, not for a long time now.  Mihnea said that he could keep her safe, but was he telling the truth?  He hadn’t kept Elizabeth safe.  She’d been kidnapped.  Abigail suddenly felt angry.

And then she remembered.  She was scared because she hadn’t been kept safe.  Everyone was always promising to keep her safe, but they never did.  First she’d had to deal with werewolves, and now it was vampires.  Here was one of the accursed things floating in midair right before her eyes, and she’d almost been fooled by him, almost let him in.  He’s the one who took Elizabeth, she thought, while reaching slowly into her pocket so he wouldn’t see.  She struggled to maintain her smile, the mouth was the easy part, but the eyes were a bit harder.

Mihnea’s expression seemed to be changing.  Could he sense her disbelief?  He was growing uglier, more menacing.  “Invite me inside, Abigail,” he sneered at her, his fanged teeth gleaming with moonlight.  “I can make you just like me, would you like that?  If not, then it’s almost time for breakfast.”  His laughter was like a coarse growl, full of mirth and rage.  The beast’s face scared her, but she knew he couldn’t come in without being invited.  He couldn’t touch her- not for now anyway.

“YOU’RE THIRSTY?” she yelled angrily while pulling a vial out of her pocket.  “THEN DRINK THIS!”  She threw the holy water into his face, which began to steam and burn as if she’d thrown acid.  He shrieked some curse at her in a language she didn't know, just as the door burst open and Caleb Boone shot through the room like a missile.  He pushed Abigail out of the way and lunged out at Mihnea with his sword drawn, aimed to plunge it through the heart of the vampire.

Mihnea, though his eyes were burning, sensed the attack and held up his arm to block the strike.  The blade was driven through his shoulder as he screamed even louder than before.  He faded into a black mist and disappeared into the darkness as Caleb fell to the ground below.

Abigail gasped and staggered to her feet.  Her head was spinning as she leaned over the windowsill and looked down.  Caleb was gone, she couldn’t see any sign of him.  She took a series of long, deep breaths before sliding the window shut.  Turning to return to bed, she noticed that the girl across the room was sitting up staring at her, confusion and terror plastered across her face.

“Go back to sleep,” Abigail told her.  “You’re just having a nightmare.  Everything’s okay now.”

After a moment the girl laid back down and pulled the covers up over her head.

Abigail laid down too.  She felt shaken, confused, and angry.  Caleb had returned just in time to see that she needed help, but what if things had gone differently?  Mihnea might have gotten her.  This time though, she did a pretty good job of taking care of herself.  Maybe that was what she needed to do from now on.

She followed the example of the girl in the next bed and pulled the covers up over her head, wondering if Caleb had been able to find anything.  She stayed awake until morning hoping he’d come back to give her news, but he didn’t.

The next morning Michael and Abigail joined all the other children in the dining hall for breakfast.  Michael counted about fifty other kids as they all visited and ate their meal of oatmeal, sausage, and apples. Abigail was unusually quiet.  Michael knew that his sister probably hadn’t gotten any more sleep than he had, but she was usually grouchy when she was tired.  After a few minutes of sitting together in silence, she told him about everything that had happened the night before.

He was shocked and angry.  “Well, I’m glad you’re alright,” he told her.  “If fact, I’m really proud of you.  You didn’t fall for that sicko’s tricks.”

“I almost did.  It’s only because I remembered what he did to Elizabeth that I was able to fight him.”

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there to help.”

“It’s not your fault,” she said with a sad smile.  “But I don’t know why this stuff keeps happening to me.  I’ve never tried to hurt anyone, why do these monsters keep trying to get me?”  Tears began to flow down her cheeks, but she quickly wiped them away.  “I still have nightmares, almost every night, about the werewolves attacking me.  That was almost a year ago, and now Mihnea’s coming after me too.  Why?  Why is he trying to get me?  I didn’t do anything.”

Michael didn’t know what to say.  He was raging inside, and was determined to make Mihnea pay for this.  First he’d taken Elizabeth, and then he and his mother were attacked, and now he was even trying to get at Abigail.  Mihnea was going to be sorry when Michael got ahold of him.

Some of the other children noticed Abigail sobbing, but it didn’t seem to surprise them.  Michael imagined that there was a fair share of crying in a place like this, after all, children weren’t sent here because things were going well in their lives.

“Look, you’re going to be alright.  We all are.  Besides, it sounds like Caleb really meant what he said about keeping an eye on things for us out there.  Hopefully Mihnea won’t be coming back anytime soon.”

Abigail nodded.  His words appeared to make her feel a little better.  “Do you think it was Mihnea who crashed the plane, or some of his people?”

“I don’t know, but it sounds like they’re going to do whatever they can to get what they want.  We need to stay strong until Mom and Dad and the MacDonalds turn up.  We’ve got a job to do.”

Abigail sighed and formed a determined look.  “Okay.  So where do we start?”

“Well, there are six or seven boys that fit Olaf’s profile.  Caleb said he was seventeen years old.”  Michael scanned the room and looked at each of the older boys in turn.  He had no idea what Olaf looked like.  “I don’t think we should risk spooking him until we know for sure who he is.  If we start asking around for him by name, he might get suspicious.”

“What about him?”  Abigail gestured toward a tall blonde boy sitting across from a group of giggling girls.  Another boy, slightly younger, was sitting beside him.  They were all carrying on and having a good time.

“I don’t know,” said Michael.  “Maybe.”  He kept scanning the room.  Another boy caught his eye.  He was of average height, a bit overweight, and wore glasses.  He didn’t look like the descendant of a world-renowned monster hunter, but looks could sometimes be deceiving.

Michael moved his eyes to the other end of the chubby boy’s table where another teen sat, but his eyes soon moved to the girl sitting across from him.  She was gorgeous.  She had long, curly black hair, brown eyes, and cherry red lips, and looked about fourteen or fifteen years old.  She glanced over and caught him staring, and Michael’s stomach seemed to do a back flip.

Abigail saw her brother gawking, and thought he was looking at the teenage boy.  “Do you think that’s him?”

“What?  Oh…uh, I don’t know, maybe.”  He looked back at the boy sitting on the other side of the table.  He had black hair too.  In fact, he shared several of the girl’s features.  This was most likely her brother, and he looked about the right age for Olaf.  “Yeah, I think that might be him.  That girl looks like his sister, and she’s about the right age too.”

“Should we go talk to them?” Abigail asked him.

“I guess so.  Just remember, we don’t want it to seem like we’re interrogating them.  They’ve had people chasing them all their lives.  And whatever you do, don’t mention the name Van Helsing.”

Abigail agreed, and the two of them got up and carried their trays over to where the others were sitting.

“Excuse me, are these seats taken?” Michael asked the girl.

She raised her eyes and looked him over suspiciously.  Without saying a word, she shook her head and turned back to her breakfast.  He sat down next to her and Abigail took the seat beside him.

“I’m Michael, and this is my sister, Abby.”

The girl and her brother looked at each of them, and then at each other.  “Yes, we know,” the boy told them in a English accent, which caught Michael a bit off guard.  “Your parents are missing, you two escaped from a crashing plane.”

Michael was shocked.  “How did you know that?”

“Word travels fast here,” he responded.

Michael wasn’t so sure about that.

“We usually give gifts to new kids when they arrive.”  The boy opened his hand, revealing a small crucifix on a silver chain.

“Thanks, but we already have our own,” said Michael, pulling down his shirt to show them the cross Dorothy Stoker had given him a few days before.

“What about you?” the boy asked Abigail.  She pulled out the cross hanging around her neck.  She then began to put it back, but remembering the night before, she decided to leave it on the outside of her shirt.

“So, what are your names?” Michael asked them.

The girl looked at her brother as if seeking approval, but he just looked down at his bowl and took another bite of oatmeal.

“My name is Magda Van den Berg, and this is my brother Olaf.”

Michael smiled at her in an attempt to look charming.  He wasn’t sure he’d pulled it off though, because Magda didn’t smile back.  “You’re from England?” he asked her.

“We grew up outside Sheffield, but our mother was Dutch.  We moved back here to her hometown just before she died.  That’s how we ended up in this orphanage.”

Olaf raised his eyes and gave his sister a disgusted look.  Then he rose to his feet, grabbed his tray, and stormed away.  Magda gave them an embarrassed glance and chased off after him.

“Well,” said Michael, “at least we know who they are now.  I don’t know how easy it’s going to be to convince them we’re friends though, much less confirm that they really are the Van Helsings.”

Abigail nodded and took a large bite of her apple.  She looked over Michael’s shoulder and began pointing.  “Mmmm, mmmmm,” she moaned.

Michael turned to take a look, and saw Ms. Voss coming toward them.  She wished them good morning and sat down next to Michael.  Abigail quickly swallowed down the apple, nearly choking.

“Have you heard any news about our parents?” Abigail asked her.

“I’m sorry, dear, they haven’t contacted us yet,” she said.  “But I was able to confirm that no bodies were found in the wreckage of the plane.  That’s a good sign, right?”  She gave them a cheery smile.

Michael took note of how much prettier Ms. Voss was in the morning than after being dragged out of bed in the middle of the night.  He couldn’t help but smile back at her.  He was positive that his father and Mr. MacDonald had gotten off the plane okay, but what had happened to his mother and Liam?  Dorothy had taught them all about how to protect themselves from vampires.  She’d given them crosses, garlic, and holy water.  Caleb told them that silver was also a valuable weapon, and gave them all silver blades.  A silver blade wouldn’t kill a vampire unless it was plunged into the heart, he’d explained, but it did cause them a lot of pain.  Michael knew that his mother and Liam were aware of all these things, and they were prepared for a fight.  Remembering that made Michael feel a little better, but why hadn’t they turned up yet.  It wasn’t a good sign.

“Well, if you need anything, just let me or one of the teachers know,” Ms. Voss told them while standing to her feet.  “And keep your chins up.  Things are going to turn out okay.”  She smiled sweetly before walking away.

“She’s a sweet lady,” Abigail said, raising the apple to take another bite.

“Pretty too,” Michael said.

Abigail gave him a disgusted glare.  “You boys are all the same.  Can’t you think of anything else but how pretty a woman is.  What’s inside matters too, you know.”

“Oh, okay,” he huffed back.  “Tell me all about it Miss has a crush on Caleb Boone.”

She looked at him in shock.  For a moment Michael thought she was going to let him have it, but instead she returned to her apple, the color of which closely matched the redness of her face.

CHAPTER NINE

The Heir of Van Helsing

Two days came and went without any news of Michael’s parents or the MacDonalds.  Caleb had stopped by the day before to give them an update on his search.  He’d been unable to find anything, but promised to keep looking, and return each night to keep an eye on them.

Michael and Abigail had spent those two days trying to befriend the Van den Berg children, but they seemed pretty good at keeping to themselves and avoiding unnecessary contact with anyone and everyone.

It was a cold but beautiful morning, and the sky was threatening snow, but most of the children were in the playground behind the orphanage.  Michael saw some boys shooting hoops and decided to join them.  It felt good to exercise and forget his troubles, and besides, he hadn’t been able to practice his three point shot for a while.  They all played until the other boys decided to go back in and get a hot drink.  Michael decided to stay and keep practicing.  He hadn’t played nearly as well as he thought he should.  In fact, his performance had been a little embarrassing.

He moved out to the three-point line and took some shots.  He sank a few, but most bounced off the rim and he had to go chase the ball down.  He took one shot that missed completely.  It fell short of the hoop by at least six inches, bounced off the court, hit a rock, and rolled down the hillside into the forest below.

“Dang it,” Michael snapped at himself as he jogged after the ball.  He’d been just about ready to go inside and didn’t feel like chasing it.  It bounced off a couple of small trees and eventually came to a stop in a mound of leaves beneath a large alder tree.  He stooped to pick up the ball, and noticed a graveyard through the tree line.  He picked it up and hiked down to take a look.

Like many old graveyards, the place was beautiful and creepy.  The grounds weren’t particularly well kept, and dead weeds still cluttered the ground from the summer before, but some of the individual grave sights looked more lovingly cared for.  As Michael walked through the tombstones, he brushed away ice and crusted snow to examine the names and dates, wondering what kind of people were buried below.  Some of the inscriptions were hundreds of years old, and many were worn away so that it was impossible to read them.

He came to an intricate grave marker with the life-sized statue of an angel, which was a little bit taller than him.  She had a beautiful, gentle face and long flowing hair, and one of her wings had broken and fallen away about halfway down.  She reminded him of his mother somehow.

“I guess even angels can get broken,” he told her, looking up into her hard, marble eyes.

“You shouldn’t be out here by yourself.  It’s not safe.”

Michael jumped at the voice, but recognized it instantly as Caleb’s.  “Oh,” he said, and took a deep breath.  “I was just, um…chasing the ball.”  He held it up as though he needed to prove it.

“I know.  You need to work on your jump shot.  You keep flicking the ball with the thumb on your guide hand.”

Michael frowned at him.

“But that’s beside the point right now.  I’ve searched the entire area where we landed, and I found your mother’s backpack.  There were no signs of an attack or struggle, and I was able to follow her trail.  It led to a small lake not far from the landing sight before disappearing.  But there was too much foot traffic around the area to pick up the trail again.”

Michael sighed in frustration.  “So what exactly does all that mean?  She just vanished?”

“I’m sorry I don’t have a better answer for you.  It’s a strange situation.  Your mother should have known the general direction of the orphanage, but she took off in the direction of that lake instead.  She must have had some reason for it.”

“And there were no signs at all of Liam?  Nothing?”

“I’m afraid not.  Look, I’m sure someone will be in contact with us soon.  Keep your chin up, sometimes no news is good news.”

Michael nodded.  Maybe Caleb was right.  If Liam or his mother had been attacked, there would have been signs.  That much was a relief, but it didn’t make not knowing any easier.

“You’d better get back before you have people looking for you.  And remember, it’s not safe to wander off alone like this.”

“Even in the middle of the day?  Vampires can’t expose themselves to sunlight.”

“Actually they can.  But their powers are greatly weakened in sunlight, so they usually don’t risk it.  And remember, they’ve got a lot of servants.  Werewolves, ghouls and zombies to name just a few.  We’re dealing with the undead here, so hanging out alone in a graveyard’s probably not the best idea.  Besides, your sister didn’t make Mihnea very happy by throwing holy water in his face.  He’s going to want to get at her real bad now; remember that.”

“What about you?  You shoved a sword through his shoulder,” Michael reminded him.

Caleb laughed.  It was the first time Michael had even seen him crack a smile.  “I’m not worried about that.  He’s hated me for a long time now.  Just help me keep an eye on your sister, okay.”

Caleb disappeared back into the woods, and Michael returned to the playground to find Abigail and Ms. Voss waiting for him.

“Michael, we’ve been looking everywhere for you,” she told him in a concerned voice.

“Yeah, sorry about that,” he told her.  “The basketball got away from me.  I had to chase it all the way down to that old graveyard.”

“Oh,” she said with a smile and a nod.

“Did you get any news about our parents?” Michael asked her quickly.

“No, I’m afraid not, however there are some men here from the American Embassy who’d like to talk to you.  Would that be alright?”

Michael’s heart sank.  He shrugged.  “Sure, that’d be okay.”  He’d really hoped to hear some news about his mom and dad.  It seemed really odd that they hadn’t been in touch yet.  They had to know how worried he and Abigail would be.  He just hoped they were all right.

They went back inside and followed Ms. Voss to the reception area.

She opened the door to the room where the men were waiting.  “I’ll be right here in my office if you need me,” she said, and nodded to the men inside the room.  She ushered the children inside and shut the door behind them.  Two men in business suits sat waiting for them at a table near the center of the room.  Michael’s heart leapt as he recognized his father and Declan MacDonald.

Abigail opened her mouth to shout, but her father placed his index finger over his lips to shush her just in time.

“Dad, you’re okay!” whispered Michael.  “Where’ve you been for the last two days, we’ve been worried sick.”

Abigail jumped up and down and embraced them, her father in one arm and Mr. MacDonald in the other.

“Come on and sit down,” their father told them.  “We’ve got some things to hash out.”

“What about Mom and Liam, are they okay?” Michael asked while taking a seat.  “Were they attacked after jumping from the plane?”

“No, they weren’t,” Mr. MacDonald assured him.  In fact, they’re both doing fine.”

“Then what happened, why couldn’t we find them after we landed?” Abigail pressed him.

“Well, it’s a long story,” her father said.  “You might as well hear it straight from your mom.”  He walked to the window and waved; a few moments later a red-tailed hawk flew in and landed on the floor, and changed into the beautiful, smiling form of their mother.

Abigail squealed in delight and jumped up to grab her around the waist.  “MOM!” she yelled a bit too loudly.

They saw the shadow of Sally Voss through the frosted door as she got up from her desk and opened the door.  Mrs. Belmont quickly scooted behind it as Abigail rushed back to the table.  “Is everything all right in here?” she inquired.

Mr. MacDonald nodded.  “Everything’s fine, dear.  The girl’s just excited.  We may have some good news for them about their parents.  I’ll fill you in after we’re done here, alright?”

Michael grinned to hear Mr. MacDonald speak with an American accent, but it seemed to convince Ms. Voss.  She grinned and went back to her business, closing the door behind her.

“Mom,” Michael reprimanded her, “what the heck happened?  We’ve been worried sick.”

“I know, sweetheart, and I’m really sorry,” she was smiling, but sounded like she was on the verge of tears.  “I wanted to come to you, but I didn’t think it would be safe.  I didn’t want to lead Mihnea to you by coming to the orphanage.”

Michael shook his head.  “But, Mom, Mihnea has known where we were all along, he attacked Abigail on the first night we were here.”

Her eyes grew wide and began to well up.

“Oh no, tell me what happened.”

Abigail reported the story, and by the end their mother was smiling through her tears.  “Oh, Abby, I’m so sorry you had to go through that, I really thought I was keeping you safer by staying away.  But I’m so proud of the way that you took care of yourself.”

“Yeah,” Abigail said with a sigh.  “I guess I’m getting pretty good at that.  But why didn’t you come with us to the orphanage?  Where were you after we jumped from the plane?”

“Right,” put in Michael, “and where’s Liam?”

“Well, that’s where it all began to get interesting,” she told them, drying her eyes.  “I guess I’ll just start from the beginning.  Soon after Caleb jumped, your father pushed me from the plane.”

“Pushed you?”  Michael eyed his father suspiciously, who just smiled back and winked.

His mother continued.  “After he pushed me off the plane, I flew back toward all of you.  I was flying for Caleb when I saw the dark mist that had been around the plane heading toward him.  It surrounded him and materialized into a man- well, a man-like thing.  It was Mihnea.”

“I knew it,” growled Michael under his breath.

“Caleb fought him as they fell.  It was absolutely terrifying.  I recognized Mihnea, but the form he took…it was very bat-like, sort of like the paintings of demons you see in medieval art.  Anyway, they fought each other like a couple of junkyard dogs- Mihnea ripping and clawing at Caleb who was defending himself and fighting back with his sword.  I’ve never seen anything like it.  Mihnea managed to get both his hands around Caleb’s neck, and just when I thought it was over, Caleb managed to bring his sword around and lob off both of Mihnea’s hands.  After that he turned back into the dark mist and shot out of sight.  Caleb put his sword in its sheath and went into a dive to catch up with the two of you, I don’t think he even noticed me, but I was still pretty far above him.  I don’t think he could have seen me, even if he was looking.  I sometimes forget that others don’t see as well as I do when I’m a hawk.”

“What happened then,” Michael asked impatiently.

“Well, I shot down toward the three of you, but then I noticed that I didn’t see Liam.  I looked around for a few moments before finding him.  Somehow he’d gotten way off course.  I think he probably pulled his chute too early and it just got taken with the wind.”

“That sounds like my son, alright,” Mr. MacDonald chuckled.

“Anyway, I knew that Caleb would be landing with the two of you, so I took off after Liam.  He was headed toward a group of small lakes, and although I flew as fast as I could, I wasn’t able to make it to him in time.  He splashed down right in the middle of one of the lakes.  I knew if he got tangled up in the lines or the parachute he might drown, so I got there as quick as I could to help him, but all I found was the parachute.  He’d managed to get out of it by himself.  After that, I searched for him a long time, but there didn’t seem to be any sign of him.  I didn’t know what to do, and I was terrified that he’d drowned.  I was just about to give up the search and go for help when I saw something really strange- an orca whale swimming around the lake.  I knew immediately that it had to be Liam.”

Michael and Abigail’s jaws dropped, they looked at each other in stunned silence.

“An ORCA?  You mean Liam can change into a killer whale?”  Michael hadn’t considered the possibility of changing into a fish!  With his luck, he’d turn out to be a gold fish or a sea horse.

“Well, as you can guess this complicated things.  Especially since Liam couldn’t figure out how to change back to a human.  The same thing happened to me after I changed for the first time.  It takes practice to learn to change at will, and being scared only makes things worse.”

Abigail looked tickled.  “What did you do?  Is Liam still in that lake?”

“Goodness no, I knew I’d better get him to salt water as soon as I could, so I called Finnegan and let him know what was happening.  Then I flew back to see you two and Caleb heading toward the orphanage.  You were being followed though, so I flew down and distracted the two men that were tracking you.  I’m pretty sure they were ghouls.”

“What’s a ghoul?” Abigail asked.

The woman looked to her husband with a disgusted scowl, hoping he’d answer the question for her.

He conceded.  “Well, I’d rather not have to tell you, but I suppose you’d better know the truth.  A ghoul is usually a vampire’s servant.  They’re human, but they have the desire to become a vampire, so they dedicate themselves to eating nothing but human flesh- both of the living and of the dead- in order to prove their loyalty.  If they serve their master faithfully, then after a while they’re granted the honor of becoming one of the undead.”

Abigail looked as though she might be sick.  “I’m sorry I asked,” she said wearily.  “I almost wish they’d caught up with us though.  I bet Caleb would have made short work of those freaks!”

“Probably so,” agreed her father, “just remember that the only fight you’re guaranteed to win is the one you can avoid.”

“So what happened to the ghouls?” Michael asked.  “Are they still out there somewhere?”

“Probably,” their mother told them.  “I distracted them long enough for the three of you to escape.  Once I was convinced they’d lost your trail, I headed off to find your father and Declan.  I was relieved to see that they’d made it through the crash in one piece, but I didn’t have time to find them, so I headed back to help Liam.  Finnegan arranged to have him air lifted off to the ocean, and now he’s swimming around off the coast of Scotland.

Michael was relieved.  “Alright, so what do we do now?”

“Have you made contact with the Van den Berg children yet?” his father asked.

“Yes, but they really keep to themselves.  We haven’t been able to find out if they’re really descendants of Van Helsing or not.”

“Finnegan seems to be convinced that they are.  Try and befriend them, and when the time is right, explain what’s going on.  We need to get them out of here for their own good, but things will move along a lot easier if they decide to cooperate with us.  Be careful not to spook them, if they run off we might lose them again.”

Michael nodded, and so did Abigail.  “Aren’t you staying to help us?” she asked.

“Declan and I have lost contact with Alucard, we think something might be wrong, so we’re going to see what we can do to find him.  Caleb is going to continue to keep his eye on you, as is your mother.  In three days we’re going to pick you two up, and extract the Van Helsing children.  All the paperwork is being done, because the last thing we need is a kidnapping investigation.”

“Just remember,” Mr. MacDonald warned them, “the vampires can’t get at you as long as you stay inside at night and don’t invite them in.  Watch out for strangers though, Mihnea knows where you are, and he has servants that can walk unhindered in daylight.”

“You should be safe enough,” their father said, “just be cautious.  Mihnea doesn’t know what we’re up to.  Hopefully, Declan and I can divert his attention away from the orphanage and meet back up with Alucard.”

“I love you both,” Mrs. Belmont told her children.  “Remember, I won’t be far away.”  She hugged them, and Michael watched as she turned back into a hawk and hopped out the window.

A pigeon, Michael thought to himself.  If it’s not a goldfish then I’ll probably be a lousy pigeon.

Michael scanned the board games on the shelf before him.  He’d promised Abigail he would play something with her after they finished supper.  He wasn’t really in the mood, but at least it would take her mind off of things for a while.  Maybe it would work for him too.  He pulled out a game called Zoocapades and sat down at one of the free tables.  Abigail had always loved animals, so this game should be right up her alley.

“This looks pretty cool,” she said, returning from the bathroom and sitting down beside him.  She handed him a chocolate bar, and immediately began to unwrap her own.  “You can’t say they don’t feed you well in this place.”

“That’s for sure.  I’m still stuffed from dinner.”  Michael took the top off the box and set it aside.  He began pulling out pewter animal figurines and setting them on the table.  “I wonder when we’re going to develop our…you know, our traits- from Mom’s side of the family.”

Abigail got a funny look on her face.  She shrugged.

“I talked to Dad about it a while back,” Michael whispered.  “He said he’s almost positive that we’ll both have the ability, but he’s not sure exactly when it’ll happen.”

“I can’t wait,” she told him sheepishly.

“Do you ever worry about what sort of animal you might change into?  There seems to be no rhyme or reason to it.  Mom’s a hawk, Uncle Link’s a wolf, Mr. MacDonald’s an Osprey, Mom’s dad is a bear, and now Liam….”

“So what’s your point?” she asked in exasperation.

He was a little surprised by her attitude.  “Well, don’t you worry about what you might change into?  I mean, what if it’s a rabbit, or even a cockroach or a worm or something?  That would be horrible!”

She let out a little giggle.  “I think you’re worrying about it too much.  None of the people we know have changed into anything like that.”

“That doesn’t mean it couldn’t happen.  I mean, what is it that determines what we change into?  It can’t be anything genetic, that wouldn’t make any sense.  It must be something else.”

Abigail was filled with guilt for keeping her secret from Michael.  She wanted to tell him, but she didn’t want him to hate her for it.  Wouldn’t he be angry that she was younger than him and she could change, but he couldn’t?  She liked her animal form.  She’d always thought mountain lions were really cool; in fact it had probably always been her favorite animal.  But what if Michael didn’t like his form?  He’d hate her even worse, then.  Maybe she should just follow her dad’s advice and tell him.

“Abby, are you listening to me?  You look like you’re thinking about something else.”

“No,” she assured him.  “I’m listening.  It’s just that…look there’s something I need to tell you—”

“Hey, it’s Magda,” said Michael, pointing to the door.  The girl walked over to one of the bookshelves and began scanning through the books.  “I don’t see Olaf though.  We’ve been here for three days and this is the first time I’ve seen her alone.”

Abigail breathed a sigh of relief, glad she’d been saved from the conversation.  “Why don’t you go and talk to her?”

“Me?  Why don’t you?  She might respond better to another girl.”

“Because,” she taunted him, “you’re the one who loves her.  Now’s your chance to have her all to yourself.”

He shook his head at her.  “I don’t love her,” he said nervously.  “But…” he glanced at her once again.  “I’d better move fast before she takes off again.”

Abigail giggled as he got up and walked off to speak with her.

He came up behind her and took a long, deep breath.  “Hi Magda,” he said as cooly as he could manage.

“Good evening, Michael,” she said without turning around.  That was strange.  He’d been watching her since she came in and she hadn’t even seemed to notice he was in the room.

“So, um, what are you up to?  Just looking for something to read?”

“Yes,” she said, turning to look at him. “I just finished a pretty good book, but I’ve already gotten through most of these.”  She ran her fingers along the spines of the books, scanning the titles.

“Really?  So how long have you guys been staying here?”

She looked at him hesitantly.  It seemed like she wanted to say something, but was afraid to.

“It’s your brother, isn’t it?  He doesn’t want you to talk to anyone, to make friends.”

She looked embarrassed, so he quickly changed the subject.  “So what kind of books do you like to read?”

She shrugged.  “Just about anything.  Romance, adventure, historical, I’m not too picky, as long as it’s a good story.”

Michael pulled a book from the shelf.  “Here’s a good one, have you ever read this?”

“The Lord of the Rings?  Sure, a couple of times.”

“I think you look like Arwen,” he told her.  “I mean, you look something like the way I’ve always pictured her.  You’re really beautiful, just like she is.”

What was he saying?  He was going to scare her off if he kept this up.  On top of that, his stomach suddenly felt very odd.  Oh please God, don’t let me throw up on her, Michael prayed silently.

The girl just stood there staring at him.  It was hard to read her expression.  She was probably good at masking her emotions, Michael thought.  He’d probably gone to far, he shouldn’t have said what he did, but for some reason he was feeling bold, and he hadn’t really known what else to say.

“So, what you’re saying is,” she said slowly, “that I look like an elf?”  Her eyes bore into him, slightly inquisitive, but otherwise devoid of emotion.

Michael felt himself turn a little red.  “Uh, yeah, I suppose I am.”

She shrugged.  “Okay, I can live with that.  Do you want to go take a walk with me?”

Michael laughed in relief, and felt a surge of excitement.  “I’d love to,” he told her.

Michael wasn’t sure if he should take Magda’s hand, so he offered her his arm instead.  Much to his relief she took it.  Together they walked through the front grounds of the building, speaking about the weather and making other kinds of small talk before heading into the back near the playground.  A few inches of snow had fallen a few hours earlier, but it was surprisingly warm outside, and a beautiful night for a walk.

Things were going pretty well, Michael decided.  His stomach was still doing flips, but he knew he needed to speak things over with Magda while he had the chance.

“I have something to talk to you about,” he told her.  “Something really important.  It’s about why I’m here.”

“What are you talking about?” she asked, suddenly looking worried.  He could sense her tensing up.

“It’s nothing bad,” he said quickly.  “In fact, I’m sure you’ll be glad about what I have to tell you.”

“Okay,” she said apprehensively, “what is it then?”

“Well, I am who you think I am, but there’s more to the story.  My family was actually on our way to look for you and your brother when our plane went down.”

“You were looking for us?  Why, what do you mean?”  He’d definitely spooked her, and now he needed to fix it.

“Look, we have the same enemies you do.  They’re the ones that crashed our plane.  They burned my house down, and even tried to turn my mother and I into monsters like them.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she snapped, jerking her hand away from him.

“Yes, you do.  And you can trust me.  I’m a friend.  You just need to hear me out, Magda Van Helsing.”

She suddenly looked enraged.  “BE QUIET,” she yelled at him.  “DON’T SAY THAT NAME AGAIN.”

“It’s alright,” he assured her.  “You’re safe with me.”

“But who says that you’re safe with me,” she sneered at him, twirling around and catching the side of his head with a spin kick.  He stumbled backwards and fell over the teeter-totter, landing hard upon his back in the snow.  A second later she was on top of him, squeezing his ribcage tightly with her knees, holding a dagger to his throat.

“What are you?  A werewolf?  You don’t look like a ghoul!  Tell me the truth and I’ll end your life quickly!”

Michael struggled to draw breath.  “Neither.  I’m just a normal human being, I swear!”  Well, mostly normal, he thought.  Liam was so much better with girls than he was, he didn’t seem to get as nervous around them as he did.  What would Liam do in a situation like this?

He gave her a toothy smile.  “Don’t kill me, kiss me instead.”

“What?  WHAT did you say?  You think this is some kind of a joke?”  Her piercing brown eyes glared down at him.

Michael grimaced.  “Cut me then.  My arm I mean, not my throat.  That’s a silver dagger isn’t it?  You can cut me…but you’ll um, have to pay for it with a kiss.”  Was he trying to get himself killed?  He cringed at the words coming out of his own mouth.

She glared at him.  “You don’t think I’ll do it, do you?”  She huffed at him, and then plunged the tip of the dagger into the meat of his forearm.

“YOUCH,” he shouted.

She held the blade there for a moment to see what would happen.

“All right, you’re not a werewolf, but that doesn’t mean you aren’t working with them.”

“I’m not, I swear it.  Just give me a chance to explain.  I’m here to help you and Olaf.”

Magda pulled the dagger out.  She looked into his eyes, and he saw a glint of confusion amidst the worry and anger.  He knew she’d been hunted all her life, and he couldn’t blame her for being distrustful.  She lowered the dagger.  “Alright, I’ll listen, but if you try anything I’ll—”

Out of nowhere came a yellow and blue missile that knocked Magda off of him- it was Abigail.  Together, they went tumbling through the snow like a derailed train.  Kicks and fists began to fly everywhere.

“Nobody beats up my brother but ME!” Abigail shouted as they fought.

“Get OFF of me you little blonde nutter!”

Magda struggled with her for a moment before kicking her away, then she quickly grabbed the girl by the leg and collar, body-slamming her into the snowy sand beneath the monkey bars.  She back flipped away to create some distance between them and raised her fists up for defense.  “THAT’S ENOUGH,” Magda yelled.  “YOU KNOCK IT OFF NOW!”

Abigail angrily pulled herself up and glared back.  “You’re pretty good,” she said.  “But now it’s my turn!  FLYING COUGER FIST BARRAGE!” she growled while hurdling herself at Magda, bombarding her repeatedly across the face with a series of wild punches.

Michael had seen an occasional cat-fight, but he’d never seen two girls fight like this before, and it scared him- these two might actually do some serious damage to each other.  It was like something out of a Bruce Lee movie, only this was more fierce.

He lunged between them, trying to break up the fight while dodging their strikes.  Abigail got him with a roundhouse kick to the chest that knocked the wind out of him, and one of Magda’s punches landed square on his right cheek, making him see stars for a few seconds.

“STOP IT YOU TWO! He screamed at them, finally succeeding in pulling the girls apart.  All three of them were bruised and bloody, and both girls were leaning over with their hands on their knees, struggling to catch their breath.

“What the heck’s wrong with you?  Y-you…you little psychopath!” Magda huffed.

“You started it!  I saw you holding that dagger to my brother’s neck, and then you stabbed him.  You’re the psycho!”  Abigail pushed Michael out of the way and lunged at Magda again, who caught her in midair and tossed her to the ground, jumping on top.

“The first time you caught me off guard,” Magda warned her.  “You won’t be so lucky this time.”  She pinned Abigail’s arms behind her back, and began to hog-tie her hands together when Caleb Boone appeared out of nowhere and pulled Magda up by the scruff of her shirt.  He did the same to Abigail, and held them both at arms length as if they were two baby kittens.

“Like Michael said, that’s quite enough of that.  You two are on the same side, remember?” he said, giving Abigail a dirty look.  She scowled back at him with the eyes of a whipped puppy.

“Thanks for the help,” Michael breathed, wiping his face to check for blood.  “I just wish you’d have gotten here a little sooner.”

“What do you mean?” Caleb asked.  “I’ve been here all along.”

“Well WHY didn’t you step in sooner?” Michael demanded.

“Are you kidding me?  That was the best show I’ve seen in a while, I wasn’t about to ruin it.  Besides…” he said with a shrug, “these pretty little things shouldn’t be allowed to beat each other to a pulp.”

Both girls began to struggle and kick, but Caleb held them firmly.

“Anyway, it looked like you were the one who really needed a hand.”

Michael grinned at the girls and began to laugh nervously.  Hanging there helplessly, they both looked as though they wanted to kill him.  Maybe he’d never understand girls, he told himself.

Ms. Voss was not pleased at all when Michael, Abigail, and Magda came dragging themselves into the common room.

“What in the world happened to the three of you?” she demanded, on the verge of panic.

“We were just, ah, practicing our martial arts together,” Michael told her.

She looked at them in horror.  He could only imagine what was going through her head.  She was probably wondering what kind of a boy would beat on two girls like this, and it didn’t matter that he looked even worse than they did.

She marched all three down to the infirmary, lecturing them all the way about how they needed to keep their hands off of each other, and this sort of thing would by no means be tolerated.  She told them how she’d thought all three of them were kind, well mannered children and that their behavior had shocked and disappointed her.  By the time they’d gotten all patched up Michael felt as though he’d been beaten up all over again.  He did feel guilty about making Ms. Voss so upset though, she was a great lady and he liked her very much.

Just before being sent off to bed, Michael managed to write Magda a note.  It said:

Magda, I’d really like to talk to you later tonight so we can work things out.  If you’re willing, please meet me in the pantry at 11:30.

P.S.  I’m really sorry for Abigail’s behavior.  She is great once you get to know her, but you’re right, she has been acting like a psycho lately.  I think it’s because she was nearly eaten as a werewolf sacrifice last summer, so please don’t hold it against her.

P.S.S.  Don’t forget- you still owe me a kiss!

Best Regards, Michael

He slipped her the note and she looked at him suspiciously, but took and hid it in her pocket, which made him feel hopeful.

After that he went to his bedroom to rest for a while.  It was only eight thirty and he was really tired, so he set his alarm for 11:15 and went to sleep.

When the alarm went off he shot out of bed and shut it back off before it could wake the other two boys in the room.  Now he was even more tired than he had been before, and he wished that he hadn’t gone to sleep at all.  He let out a big yawn, went to the bathroom to make sure he looked presentable, and then quietly headed off for the pantry.

When he got there, someone was waiting for him, but it wasn’t Magda.

“Have you come to claim your kiss?” Olaf said with a snarl.  He grabbed Michael by the collar, pulled him in close, and looked at him like he’d just been caught picking pockets.  “I found my sister reading your note.  She tried to hide it from me, and you can imagine how happy I was when I read it, and when I saw the bruises all over her arms and face.  I’m in a really good mood today, so I decided to give you one warning- stay away from my sister or I’ll beat you so hard that your dog will feel it.  UNDERSTAND?”

“I don’t have a dog.  Besides, I’m not afraid of you,” Michael squeaked unconvincingly.

“Oh no?  Well then maybe I should give you something to be afraid of.”  He curled his hand into a fist and pulled it back really slowly.

“I know who you are, Olaf Van Helsing!”

It was almost as if he’d just lit a fire in Olaf’s eyes.  Michael could see the rage begin to burn within them.

“Where did you hear that name?  From my sister?”  His voice was calculated and dangerous.

“No.  She didn’t say anything.  I came here looking for you.”

“Is that so?  All right kid, you have my attention.  Start talking.”

“I know all about your family’s history, how you’ve been hunted because of your bloodline.  If you really want to defeat Mihnea once and for all, I know of a way to help you do it, but you’re going to have to trust me.”

“Mihnea?  I don’t know who that is.  All I know is that vampires have been trying to kill my sister and I for as long as I can remember.  When I was ten years old, our father was murdered right in front of us.  Our mother brought us back here.  She thought she could keep us safer with her own family around.  Well that didn’t turn out so well for her or for them.  Just before she was killed, she knew we’d been discovered, so she set us up with fake identities and led the vampires to believe we were living in Australia.  Little did they know we’d been brought here, but it looks like you’ve led them right to us,” he said angrily.

Michael felt sick.  Olaf was probably right, but they really hadn’t had any other choice.

Olaf saw the remorseful look on Michael’s face.  “Don’t lose any sleep over it, kid.  They would have found us on their own eventually.  They always have.  To tell you the truth I’m getting really sick of running.”  He took a deep breath and let go of Michael’s collar.  “So who’s this Mihnea guy?”

“Well, you’ve heard of Dracula?”

“Of course.  My great grandfather Abraham Van Helsing helped kill him.  Since then my family’s been hunted by his followers, wanting revenge for his death.”

“Mihnea is his son.  He’s the one who’s been after your family the whole time.  He’s the one we need to defeat before he becomes even more powerful than his father was.  We have a relic, a sword that can be used to destroy the source of Dracula’s power once and for all, but only the true heir of Abraham Van Helsing can do it.  We need to get you and the sword to Dracula’s castle as soon as possible.”

Olaf looked at him stupidly for a few moments, and then began to laugh, almost maniacally.  “So you expect me to go up against the son of Dracula, whose been knocking off members of my family for the last hundred and twenty years, and use some magic sword to defeat him?  That’s pretty rich, kid.  You might not be too bright, but you sure are good for a laugh.”  He turned and strode toward the pantry door, turning to glare at Michael one last time.  “Just remember, you’ll stay away from my sister if you know what’s good for you.”

Olaf turned and strode away, chuckling as he went.  Well that went well, Michael thought to himself.  This might be harder than I thought.

CHAPTER TEN

An Angry Mob

It was 5:10 in the morning.  Michael had woken early and couldn’t seem to go back to sleep, so he got up and went to the dining hall, where he waited for breakfast to begin.  He didn’t mind sitting there alone; it allowed him time to think.  His parents were due to return tomorrow to pick them up.  If everything went according to plan, the Van Helsing children would be going with them- whether they chose to or not.  Since his run-in with Olaf, he’d tried several times to speak with him and his sister, but every time they saw him coming, Olaf evaded him and dragged Magda off too.  To say he was acting unfriendly and uninterested in talking would be an understatement.  He’d try again today, Michael told himself.  Even if Olaf beats the tar out of me, I still need to give it my best shot.  I owe that much to Magda, he thought.

Michael had no sooner started to think of Magda when she walked through the door.  It took her a moment to see him, and when she did she turned her head away quickly and rushed back toward the door.

“You’re not getting away from me this time,” he said under his breath and took off after her.  By the time he caught up she was nearly to the stairway that led up to the girls floor.  “Magda, wait, please.  I really need to talk to you.”

He jumped in front of her so she couldn’t go up the stairs, and expected her to yell in protest, but instead she just kept her head down so that her hair hung over her face, and held her arms crossed tightly in front of her.  “Michael, please just let me go,” she said softly.

He hadn’t expected that, and for a moment didn’t know what to say.  Why was she acting like this?  He stepped out of her way, and she started walking up the stairs.

“I just want you to know,” he called after her, “I’m here if you need me.”

She hesitated for a moment before continuing up the stairs and disappearing from his sight.

After that, the day was pretty uneventful.  Michael met his sister for breakfast, then they ran around outside, and after sweeping the snow off the basketball court, he beat her and several other kids in a game of horse, then they had lunch, and then they were back outside again.  Eating and playing seemed to be the routine around the place.  The children who lived at the orphanage had classes throughout the day, but Michael and Abigail had been excused from those.  There were worse ways to live, Michael thought, but this sure would get boring after a while.  This is what it must feel like to be a house cat.  Eating and playing and sleeping, eating and playing and sleeping, all day, every day.

That afternoon, Michael found himself on the basketball court shooting hoops by himself again.  He dribbled the ball in a circle and turned to make a jump shot, yipping in surprise to see Caleb Boone standing just a few feet away.  “How do you do that?” Michael barked at him.  “You’re like a white, grumpy ninja.”

Caleb raised an eyebrow at him.  “I’ll take that as a compliment, I guess.  Hey kid, remember when I told you not to go walking alone down in that graveyard?”

Michael shot the ball and sunk it.  Nothing but net.  “Yeah.”

“Well, now would be a good time to do just that.  Don’t say I never did anything for you.”

Michael grabbed the ball, which had bounced back down toward him and took it in for a layup.  “What exactly is that supposed to mean?” he asked, spinning back around.  Caleb was nowhere to be seen.  Michael chuckled and shook his head.  He set the ball down and took off toward the graveyard, curious to see why Caleb would have sent him there.

He jogged through the forest and stopped to take a look before entering the graveyard.  He didn’t notice anything unusual, other than the fact that it was starting to smell like rain.  He walked along through the graves, scanning around for anything out of the ordinary.  Caleb wouldn’t have sent me down here for nothing, he told himself, even if he has a sense of humor, I don’t think a prank like that would be his style.  He continued walking through the old graveyard until he reached the far end, and noticed that the cemetery continued around the other side of a small section of dense forest.  He turned the corner and two things immediately caught his eye.  He was confused and delighted at the same time.

Leaning against a tombstone just in front of him was his bow- the red Celtic bow he’d been given from the armory at McGinty Castle, and a quiver of arrows.  His father had agreed to keep it safe for him, as they didn’t think it would be a good plan for him to show up with it at the orphanage.  Caleb must have left it here for him, but why here?  Why now?  He picked it up and slung it over his shoulder.

Sitting on the grass in front of a grave several rows down was Magda.  Michael wasn’t sure what to do.  She’d spent the last few days trying to evade him, and he wanted to respect her feelings, but what was she doing out here all alone?  Caleb must have known something he didn’t when he sent him down here.  Michael decided he’d better go and try to speak with her.

As he approached, he looked down and noticed the names on several of the graves- Van Helsing.  He walked up and approached Magda from the side so he wouldn’t startle her.  She was seated with her legs crossed in front of a grave with a fairly new tombstone.  It read Edda Van Helsing.  Beside it was a stone that bore the name Daniel Van Helsing.

“Good afternoon, Michael,” Magda said without lifting her head.  “You’re kind of like a bad cold, really hard to get rid of.”

For some reason, he felt like she’d just punched him in the heart.  He stood there in silence for a few moments and then turned to leave.

“Wait,” she said wearily after he’d taken a few steps.  “That didn’t come out right.  I’m sorry.  Please don’t go.”

He stopped and turned back to look at her.  “This is where your parents are buried?” he asked, already knowing the answer.

She nodded, still refusing to look at him.  “And where my brother and I are likely to be buried soon enough.”

“Don’t talk like that,” he told her, a bit more harshly than he’d intended.  “It’s not going to happen, not if I have anything to do about it.”

She raised her face to look at him.  Tears were running down her cheeks and he saw that her left eye was swollen and bruised.

“Hey, that’s not from your fight with Abby!  How’d that happen?”  He walked over to her and gently took her face in his hand.  She said nothing, just gazed up at him sadly.  “Wait, did your brother do this?”

She hung her head back down without denying it.  He had his answer.  A flood of anger suddenly swept through him.  The next time he saw Olaf, he was going to make him sorry for this.

“It happened last night,” she confessed.  “He…he drinks, sometimes way too much.  We were arguing and he got a little out of control, but I don’t think he meant to hurt me.”

“Has this happened before?” Michael asked, as calmly as he could.

“Not often.  Only when I argue with him and make him really angry.  I should know better than to do that.”

“You were arguing about me weren’t you?  You wanted to talk to me and Olaf didn’t want you to?”  Again her silence answered his question.  “Did you at least give him a black eye too?  I’ve seen you fight, you’re a pretty tough girl!”

“No,” she said, shaking her head.  “I’d never strike my brother, it would be disrespectful.”

“Well he disrespected you,” Michael said in a raised voice.  He took a few deep breaths to calm down.  “Look, I’m sorry if I’ve caused trouble between you and your brother, but you don’t need to be afraid anymore.  My family and I are going to protect you.”

She looked up at him apprehensively.  “How do you plan on doing that?  Are you even sure your parents made it through that plane crash?”

“I spoke to them a few days ago.  They’re coming back to get us tomorrow, and they’re taking you and your brother too.”

“But, how is that possible?  They can’t just take us, not unless they want to go to prison for kidnapping.”

“Look, I don’t know all the details, but they said paperwork was being done, it’s all going to be legal.  We’re good people, we only want to help you protect yourselves.  I know you don’t know me very well, but please…just trust me.”

She looked back down at her mother’s grave for a few long moments before rising up and standing before him.  He looked deep into her eyes.  Even with a black and blue face, she was the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen; he thought so now even more than before.  She reached down and took hold of his arm, raising it up to examine where she’d stabbed him with the silver dagger.

“I’m sorry I hurt you,” she told him guiltily.  He was about to respond when she placed her index finger over his lips.  “And I believe…” she said, turning red, “I believe I owe you a kiss.”

They looked at each other for a moment before she closed her eyes and moved her head toward his.  Michael had never kissed a girl before, and he was terrified that he was going to do it wrong.  He suddenly understood the meaning of ‘having butterflies in your stomach’.  He watched Magda nervously the whole time as he moved in and gently pecked her on the lips.

After a moment she opened her eyes and grinned at him.  “Well, that wasn’t nearly as bad as I thought it might be.”

At that moment a freezing rain started pouring down on top of them.  Michael wasn’t sure if it was a good sign or a bad one.

The dense trees of the forest offered little shelter from the downpour, but it was better than standing out in the open.  Michael crouched beneath the trunk of a large, fallen tree.

“It’s dry under here,” he said to Magda, offering her his hand.  She took it and allowed him to help her under the trunk.  “We can wait out the storm, or at least until the rain calms down a bit.”

She brushed the wet hair out of her eyes and smiled.

“Where’d you get that?” she asked through chattering teeth, gesturing to his bow.  “It looks really old.”

“It is, but I don’t really know that much about it.  It was given to me from the armory of McGinty Castle in Scotland.”

Magda looked impressed, and Michael grinned back at her proudly.

“Are you any good with it?”

“Not too bad,” he said as he handed her the bow.  “I’ve been practicing a lot lately.  If I let myself get rusty I have my uncle and his two best friends to answer to.  They love to lecture me about practicing.”  He watched as she ran her fingers along the Celtic engravings.  “How about you?  Ever done any archery?”

“A long time ago.  I remember my father showing me a bit when I was very young,” she said with a sad smile.

“Is he the one who taught you how to fight?  You’re pretty good.”

“He began to, but after he died my brother continued my training.  Most of my fighting skills come from having to defend myself though.  When you have the minions of darkness on your tail, you either learn to fight well or you die.”

Michael chuckled nervously.  “I guess you’re right.  I was pretty worried when you and Abby got into it the other day.  I thought one of you might really get hurt.”

“I would never hurt your sister…not permanently anyway.”

“That’s good to know, but you’ll have to show me how you pinned her like that.  That would really come in useful when she gets in one of her bad moods.”

“Maybe if you play your cards right I’ll show you sometime,” she said with a coy smile.  Then, as she turned her attention to the distance behind him, her smile contorted into an angry stare.

“What is it?” he asked her, glancing over his shoulder through the heavy rain.  He could barely make out the forms of three people walking through the graveyard and heading toward them.

“I can’t say for sure,” Magda whispered, “but my guess is that the two in back are ghouls.  The one in front is certainly a lycan; see how he seems to be sniffing out our trail?”

The hairy biker-type guy in the front did seem to be sniffing at the air.  The two men behind him were large, pale, and had very unfriendly looks on their faces.

“Wow,” Michael whispered.  “You really have been through a lot, haven’t you?  They just look like three regular scumbags to me.  So what do you think we should do, run for it?”

She shook her head.  “We’d never outrun the werewolf, not if he has the ability—”

“To change at will?” Michael finished for her.  “I’ve had some experience with werewolves myself, remember?”

She nodded.  “We stand our ground.  If I focus on the wolf, can you take out those two ghouls with your bow?”

Michael didn’t answer her, instead he slowly moved out from beneath the tree trunk, positioning himself out of the enemies sight and strung up an arrow.  Then he stood up straight, aimed, and let the arrow fly.  It landed true to its mark and buried itself up to the fletching in the neck of the ghoul on the left.

“ALL RIGHT,” Magda yelled excitedly.  Michael hadn’t yet seen her that happy.  “I guess that answers my question!”

The body of the ghoul thudded to the ground, as the two remaining men screeched out in anger.  Magda was proven right as the man in front transformed himself into a wolf and charged at them.  Apparently disheartened at the death of his friend, the remaining ghoul dodged behind a nearby tree.

Michael strung another arrow and sent it flying at the wolf, who saw it coming and dodged out of the way a bit too late.  It grazed one of his back legs, and the creature snarled out angrily in pain.

“HA!” Magda laughed defiantly at the wolf.  “Good work, Michael, but unless those are silver tipped arrows, see if you can take down that other ghoul while I confront the lycan.”

He winked at her and she smiled back at him with a light in her eyes that made his heart jump.  He strung another arrow and scanned the trees for the other ghoul.

“He’s there somewhere,” Magda told him assuringly.  “He wouldn’t dare retreat back to his master.  To do so would mean his execution.”

A few moments later the wolf was upon them.  It lunged over the tree trunk for Michael, perceiving him as the greater threat.  A smell of decay and wet dog suddenly filled the air.

“YOU’RE MINE,” Magda shouted at him as she caught the large wolf in the air.  It was very much like the way she’d dealt with Abigail, but this time her opponent’s momentum sent her flying through the air along with him.

That girl is insane, Michael thought as he fought the urge to turn around and help her.  He couldn’t let the ghoul get the jump on them though.  He saw the thing run from one tree to another.  It had uncanny speed.  These things might be human, he thought to himself, but there sure is something inhuman about them too, something evil.

Magda’s grunts rang out into the air, as did the snarls of her opponent.  In an odd way, the sounds of her struggling gave Michael comfort, it meant she was holding her own.  He stared at the tree where he’d last seen the ghoul.  Where was he?  Why wasn’t he coming out?  When he does, I’ll be ready for him, Michael told himself.  I need to take care of this freak so I can help Magda.

Before Michael knew what was happening his face had been smashed against the tree beside him.  He heard his arrow fly loose into nothingness as the force of the impact caused him to drop his bow.  He crumbled to the ground like a sack of potatoes, smacking his head against a tree stump on the way down.  Stars were swirling as he lay on his back with the rain drizzling down from the branches overhead.

And then the ghoul was on top of him.  The man was massive, and as Michael looked into his eyes he saw no signs of humanity, only madness and hunger.  The ghoul punched him hard in the face, and Michael heard something crack.  He fought back, kicking and punching furiously, but the man only laughed at him.

“I think I’m gonna have YOU for dinner,” the ghoul told him.  “And then my friend and I are going to have your little girlfriend for desert.”

Michael had never been so ignited with desperation and rage, and as he curled up his fist for another punch, he saw the ring of Anubis begin to glow, the blue mist swirled furiously inside the ring, and then shone so brightly that it was almost like looking into the sun.

“Hey, nice move, kid,” said Caleb, leaning over Michael and offering his hand.  “What was that anyway?  Where’d you learn how to do that?”  Caleb’s usual stern expression was gone, replaced by a look of confusion and wonder.  It made him seem younger somehow.

“MAGDA!” Michael yelled, suddenly remembering where he was.  He took Caleb’s hand and got to his feet as fast as he could.  A stream of blood spurted from his nose.

“It’s alright.  I’m right here,” she said, right beside him.  “Try and take it easy, you look like you’re a bit disoriented.”

“The werewolf?” he asked her.  Then he saw the thing’s body lying nearby.  “Oh good, you got him.”  His head was spinning.  He dropped to his knees, unable to keep his balance.

“Careful,” Magda gasped as she and Caleb helped him sit up against the large tree trunk.

Michael realized that he was soaking wet, and freezing.  The rain had transformed into a wet, heavy snow, and Michael looked down to see that a layer was beginning to stick on his clothes as well as the ground all around him.

“So tell me, kid,” Caleb said excitedly.  “Where’d you learn that move?”

“What move?” Michael asked.  The last thing he remembered was the ring glowing and then a bright light.  He hadn’t done any kind of move.

“WHAT MOVE?” Caleb frowned indignantly.  “The energy attack you used against that ghoul!  I’ve never seen anything like that before, not even from Grand Master Roshi.  I mean, that’s the stuff of legends.”

“Sorry, but I’m still not sure what you’re talking about.  What happened to the ghoul?”

Magda sat down beside him and gently touched the side of his face.  “Michael, you incinerated him with that blast; turned him right to ash.  It was…it was really incredible.  It looks like he broke your nose before you got him though.”

Caleb stooped down to examine him.  He looked a little guilty.  “Hey, I’m really sorry I didn’t step in earlier.  I thought you two could use the practice.  I realized a bit too late that there was something strange about that ghoul you were fighting.  I’ve never seen one that could move with the speed and strength that one had.”

“Neither have I,” Magda told them.  “And I’ve had to deal with quite a few of them.”

“So what’s that mean?” Michael asked them.  “YOOUUCH,” he screamed out as Caleb reset his nose.

“Mihnea is always experimenting with dark magic.  I’ve seen his henchmen possess some pretty frightening powers.  That ghoul was most likely possessed by demons, and a lot of them.  Who knows what other kinds of surprises Mihnea has in store for us.”

“Well, it looks like we have a secret weapon of our own,” Magda said, looking at Michael in fascination.  “Are you sure you don’t know how you used that blast?”

Michael looked at the ring.  “Well, I know it had something to do with my ring, but I’m not sure how it happened.  I know I was really mad, and all I could think about was destroying that creep for what he said about Magda.”

As they walked back toward the orphanage, he gave them a brief account of how he’d gotten the ring from Anubis.

“So there was another gateway like the one Mihnea’s been trying to get into?” Magda asked.

Michael put his fingers to his nose; it looked like the bleeding had stopped.  “Yeah, I mean I haven’t seen the one in Dracula’s Castle, but they both open up a portal to a place called Tartarus.  And I know that Zuriel, the guy that was trying to open up the one in the tomb is involved with this one somehow.”

“Evil minds think alike,” Caleb told them.  “It’s not unusual for people who want control to try and gain access to supernatural powers.  Hitler searched for holy relics, and even a gateway to hell to try to gain an edge over his enemies.  He also wanted to achieve immortality.”

“It’s a good thing he didn’t team up with Mihnea,” Michael said as they arrived at the edge of the forest near the playground.

“Your father and the Scotsman should be back tomorrow afternoon, until then, lay low.  It seems like our enemy has taken things up a notch.”

“Has there been any news from Alucard yet?” Michael asked him.

“Not yet.  It’s not like him either.  As long as I’ve worked with him he’s never missed a check-in.  I hope he’s all right; as strange as he is I’ve grown rather fond of him.”

That’s a bit like the pot calling the kettle black, thought Michael.  Yet, if the truth be told, he’d grown to like both of them.  Beyond that, they’d each saved his skin, and he owed them.

“Thanks for everything,” Michael said to Caleb, sticking out his hand.  “You’re a good friend.  I appreciate you keeping an eye out for us.”

Caleb looked a little surprised, but he shook Michael’s hand.  “It’s the least I can do.  Just remember to be careful.  That bloodsucker Mihnea might have more tricks up his sleeve.”  Caleb bid them goodbye and disappeared back into the forest.

“Well, that was quite a first date,” Michael said, smiling sheepishly at Magda.

“Don’t think it was a date just because I kissed you,” she told him.  He tried his best to read her, but wasn’t sure if she was teasing him or trying to shoot him down.  He decided not to say anything, but just stood there looking at her.  It was a tactic his father had taught him for getting more information out of someone.

“I mean, how old are you anyway? Thirteen?” she asked him.

“Twelve actually, but I’ll be thirteen in about a month.  Why, how old are you?” he asked her.

“I just turned fourteen.”

“Well I don’t usually go out with older women but I may be willing to make an exception in your case.”

She smirked at him.  “We’d better be getting back.  How do you plan on hiding that bow of yours from Ms. Voss and the other teachers?”

“I hadn’t really thought about that.”  Everything had happened so fast that Michael hadn’t given it any thought.  “I guess I’ll just hurry back to my room with it.”

When they got back, Michael went straight to his room to look for a good hiding place for the bow.  Luckily he was able to make it there without being spotted.  He wanted to keep it close by in case there was trouble, so he ended up putting it on his bed and pulling up the covers.

He glanced at the clock.  It was time for dinner, and although he was hungry, he didn’t want Ms. Voss questioning him about his nose or other new scars.  Turning in early sounded like a great idea, so he took a shower and got into bed.  Staring up at the ceiling with his hands behind his head, he thought of Magda.  He wanted to see her again already, and couldn’t remember ever feeling about another girl the way he did about her.  He’d had a few crushes on some of the pretty girls he’d known, but this felt different somehow.  He thought of Magda as he fell asleep, and then he dreamed about her.

The bedroom door slammed shut, rousing Michael from his sleep.  Dane and Jaap, who shared the room with him, burst in jabbering excitedly about something, but Michael couldn’t tell what, as they were speaking Dutch.

He rolled over and looked at them.  “You two wouldn’t want to keep it down a bit, would you?” he asked.

“Oh hey, Michael,” Dane laughed.  “It’s a little early for bed isn’t it?”

“What are you two going on about, anyway?”

“You mean you haven’t heard yet?  That’s what you get for turning in early.  You know that Olaf Van den Berg guy- really big, kind of a jerk?”

Michael nodded.

“Well, he stole Ms. Van Dyck’s car and crashed it through the wall of a coffee shop down the road.”

Michael shot up so fast that both boys took a step back.  “You’re kidding me.  Is he okay?  Was his sister with him?”

Dane said something to Jaap, who didn’t speak English, and the boy shrugged and answered back

“We haven’t heard that anyone was with him, but I haven’t seen his sister since I heard about it.  Anyway, they took him to the hospital, I don’t really know any more than that.”

Michael had already jumped out of bed and began to pull his shirt on.  “I’m going to go see if I can find out more,” he told them.

“Is Olaf your friend or something?” Dane asked him.

“Uh, kind of.  Thanks for the information.”  He slapped Dane on the back before jetting out of the room and running toward the stairs, dodging past other boys who were heading to their rooms for the night.  He really hoped Magda wasn’t hurt, or Olaf for that matter.  But why would he do something so stupid and reckless.  If he’d gotten his sister hurt, Michael really was going to make him sorry for it.

He looked around for anyone who might give him some news before running into Ms. Voss in the front lobby.  She was speaking with a police officer, but grinned at him and pointed to her office.  Michael entered the room and his heart nearly leapt from his chest to see Magda on the couch unharmed.  Abigail was seated beside her, holding her tightly while she wept.  That was textbook Abigail.  She could be trying to kill you one minute and comforting you the next.  He was glad to see them getting along though.

“Where’ve you been?” his sister reprimanded him.  “I looked all over for you earlier.”  Then her tone softened.  “Have you heard the news then?”

“I heard Olaf was hurt in a car accident.” Michael said, sitting down beside Magda.  “Has there been any news on him?”

“He…he was taken to the hospital,” she wept.  “Ms. Voss just got off the phone with the doctor.  He’s…he’s….”  She began sobbing too hard to finish.

“He’s slipped into a coma,” Abigail told him.  “The doctor said it looks pretty bad.  He wasn’t wearing a seatbelt and was ejected from the car.  He’s got pretty serious neck and head injuries.”

“It was my fault,” Magda cried, wiping her eyes.  “When I told him we were leaving tomorrow with your family he became furious.  He wanted to run again.  I tried my best to plead with him, but….”

“He wouldn’t listen,” Michael finished for her.  He had a little experience trying to reason with Olaf.  “Look, it wasn’t your fault.  You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“No,” she sobbed.  “I, I shouldn’t have told him.  I should have known how he would react.”

“Everyone is responsible for their own actions.  He didn’t have to react like that.  He should have trusted us.  He should have trusted you.”

She wiped her tears away again and attempted a smile.  “Thank you,” she said, taking his hand.  Abigail saw the way they were looking at each other and raised her eyes at Michael, but wisely held her tongue.

Magda looked out the door to make sure nobody was listening, and then lowered her voice.  “Do you think he might have been attacked?”

“I was thinking the same thing at first,” Michael answered, “but if that was the case, I’m pretty sure they would have finished the job.  He was obviously helpless after the crash.  If it was Mihnea or his men I don’t think there would have been any need to take Olaf to the hospital.”

“But he’s going to be vulnerable while he’s there,” Abigail said.  “Mihnea’s people will learn about what happened if they don’t already know.  There’s nobody there to protect him.”

Magda looked terrified.  “You’re right.  He could be in horrible danger.  I have to go to him.”

“I don’t think so,” Michael said, putting his hand on her arm.  “Knowing Caleb, I’m sure he would have followed Olaf to the hospital.  He knows that Olaf is vulnerable, and that he’s the one Mihnea really wants.  I’m certain that Caleb would have gone to the hospital to protect him.”

Magda looked hopeful, but scared.  “I wish we knew for sure.”

About that time, Ms. Voss’ phone rang.  She came jogging into her office to answer it.

“It’s for you, Michael,” she said, eying him curiously.  “What happened to your nose, it’s very red?”  She reached up to touch it and he yelped in pain.

“I’ll uh, I’ll explain later.  Thanks,” he said, taking the phone.  Ms. Voss frowned at him and let out an exasperated sigh before turning to leave.

“These children are going to drive me to an early grave,” he heard her grumble under her breath.

Magda and Abigail watched Michael expectantly as he talked on the phone.  After speaking for a few minutes, he hung up and let out a long sigh of relief.

“That was Finnegan.  It’s almost like he was reading our minds.”

“WELL,” yelled Abigail impatiently, “don’t just stand there like a dummy, tell us what he said.”

“Caleb followed Olaf to the hospital.  As soon as they’re able to transport him, he’ll be brought to McGinty Castle where a private doctor will see to him.  He said to hang tight until tomorrow when we all get picked up.”

“Any news yet about Elizabeth or Alucard?” Abigail asked.

“He didn’t say, so I guess not.  Liam’s doing well though.”

“Who’s Liam?” Magda asked.

“Just a friend of ours,” Michael told her.  “He’s been feeling a bit under the water lately.  Uh, under the weather, I mean.”  He chuckled in self-mockery.

About that time Ms. Voss came back in.

“Alright, Belmonts, off to your rooms.  There are a few things I need to speak to Magda about before bed.”

Abigail walked to Magda and gave her a tight hug.  She smiled warmly in return.  Michael followed and leaned down to her ear.  “You know where to find me if you need me,” he whispered to her.

He noticed Ms. Voss grinning at him suspiciously.  “You’re quite a boy, Michael,” she said, ushering him out.  “I’m keeping my eye on you.”

He just smiled and shrugged innocently.  You’ve done a splendid job of that so far, he thought at her.

For the second time that night, Michael was roused from his sleep by a loud noise.  He rolled over on his bed and drug himself up to a sitting position, cursing in his head.  It was really dark, but he could see that Dane and Jaap had been woken as well.

“What is it this time,” Michael grumbled out loud.

“I don’t know,” Dane said.  “I thought I heard screaming.”

“Great.” Michael hopped out of bed and headed for the light switch.  He reached up to flip it on, and that’s when he noticed the flickering lights outside.  He rushed to the window and gazed out.  Dozens of people were standing around on the grass, most of them men, holding blazing torches in the air.  He scanned the mob wondering what possibly could be happening, and then his blood began to boil.  He saw Mihnea, standing in the center at the front of the mob.  At his feet was a slender blonde woman sitting on her knees and slumped over like she’d been beaten.  For a moment Michael thought it was his mother, but upon looking closer saw that it was Sally Voss.

“Michael,” Mihnea said as if he’d just seen an old friend from across the room.  “How good to see you.  Why don’t you come down and join us?”

Michael didn’t know what to say, or what to do.  He just stood staring at the man, with hatred in his eyes.

“No?” Mihnea asked him.  “Perhaps you need more motivation?”

Mihnea’s people began to bring children out and cast them on the grass in front of him.  They were crying and screaming in confusion at what was happening.  Michael returned to his bed, nearly plowing over his two roommates, and grabbed his bow.  Even before he’d reached the window, an arrow was strung.  He took aim and let it fly.  Mihnea caught it in mid-air just in front of his heart.  He broke the arrow in two and cast it to the ground.  Michael shot another and Mihnea broke that one too.

“I can do that all night long, Michael.  But while I’m currently in a pleasant mood, I can make no promises about staying that way if you keep wasting my time.”

“I think you’ve got things a bit backwards,” Michael heckled him.  “The mob is supposed to chase the monster, not follow him around.”

Mihnea grinned.  “I’m not a cruel man, but perhaps you need some motivation to come down and talk.”  He pulled Sally Voss to her feet, and then took her arm into his hands and snapped it.  She screeched in agony as a cold chill went down Michael’s spine.  He was enraged and sickened.

“If I have to warn you again, it will be her neck,” Mihnea said calmly.

“ALL RIGHT, YOU EVIL LUNATIC,” Michael screamed at him.  “SAY WHAT YOU HAVE TO SAY BEFORE I FIGURE OUT HOW TO KILL YOU!”

“I never knew you were such a brave, rude little boy,” Mihnea told him.  “What I want is for you and your sister to come with me.  I’m offering you a trade.  It’s the two of you for everyone else who lives here.  If you refuse me, we’ll throw pretty Sally here and the rest of her children back where we got them, and then set the place on fire.  I learned the trick from my father.  He once threw a ball for some of the prominent subjects in his land, and then burned them all alive as they were eating and dancing.  It was quite a party- the talk of the town for many years to come.  You should have seen it.”

Michael was in shock.  Would this man really burn an entire building full of children just to get his point across?  Then again, he wasn’t a man.  Not anymore.  He was something evil, animalistic and dangerous.  He’d do whatever he needed to get what he wanted, that’s what Alucard had said.

“Oh, there might be a few who are able to escape, but I assure you that what we would do to them out here would be a far less-desirable fate.”  He smiled happily.  “And who’s that little harpy hanging out of the window above you?  How are you tonight, my dear?  You seem to be unusually interested in all of this.  What do you think about my offer?”

“You KEEP AWAY from Michael and his sister,” Magda yelled out.  “GET out of here and leave us all alone.”

“Oh I’m afraid I can’t do that, my dear.  You see, I need these two for bargaining chips.  I believe their father is in acquaintance with someone I very much desire to speak with.”

Michael saw one of Mihnea’s men dragging a small blonde girl away from the front entrance.  It was Abigail!  As hard as she fought, she couldn’t get free.  The man holding her was as unflinching as stone as she hit and kicked wildly.

“I give you my word, Michael,” Mihnea continued, pleased to see that he already had Abigail, “that the two of you WILL NOT be killed as long as you cooperate with me.  I have no desire to harm you, but neither can I allow you and your family to continue to thwart my plans.”

Michael felt broken.  He saw no other way but to surrender.  How could he resist?  What would be the point?  It would only get innocent people hurt and then he would still be overpowered.  He’d have to wait for another time to resist.

“The clock is ticking,” Mihnea said impatiently.  “Shall I continue to motivate you for an answer?”  He pulled the screaming Sally Voss back to her feet and put his arm around her neck.

“NO,” Michael shouted.  “DON’T HURT HER, I’m coming down.”

“Michael WAIT,” Magda shouted from above.

“Hurry along now, I’ll be waiting,” Mihnea said cheerfully.

Michael grabbed his backpack and his bow, and walked out of the room to the worried stares of his roommates.  “Take care of yourselves,” Michael told them.

Dane gave him a friendly, worried nod.

As he walked down the hallway and stairs, he felt like he was walking to his own execution.  With each step, he desperately tried to think of a plan, but nothing came to him.  For now, surrender was the only option.

Magda was already waiting in the lobby when he got there.

He hugged her.  “You stay in here, I —”

“Forget it,” she barked at him.  “I’m not letting you go out there alone.  You’ll have to knock me out to stop me.”

“Maybe I should,” Michael shot, irritated and impressed by her loyalty.  But he knew she wouldn’t budge.

Magda took his hand, and they walked outside together, saying nothing as they walked toward the mob.

Mihnea smiled at them happily as they approached.  “You’ve made the right choice,” he told them.  Then he nodded to his people, and they began throwing their torches in a pile of brush near the side of the building, which despite the cold and snow lit up quickly.

“HEY, there’re still people in there,” Michael yelled at him.  “You said you wouldn’t hurt anyone else.”

“You worry too much, I’m sure they’ll come out when they see the flames.”  He looked at Magda.  “Who are you, his lady-friend?  Maybe I’ll bring you along too, just for fun.  How about it Michael?”

“NO,” he yelled.  “KEEP HER OUT OF THIS!”

“I have my answer then.”

He grabbed Magda and lifted her up by the arm as his form changed into a hideous creature.  His black body was that of a man, with a bat-like face and broad, leathery wings.  He sprung into the air carrying the girl with him, and then Michael saw that the man holding Abigail had also changed and taken her into the sky.  Finally he felt himself lifted from the ground.  He never saw who caught him up, but felt the air grow colder as he watched children dart out of the burning orphanage until it disappeared into the blurry distance below.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Flying Lessons

Michael was shivering uncontrollably as the winged nightmare flew through the castle window and dropped him on the hard stone floor.  He crashed to a stop against an old chair, which broke apart and fell down upon him.  He writhed in pain for a few long moments before turning onto his stomach and crawling from beneath the shattered pieces of wood.  He saw both Abigail and Magda on the floor in front of him, shivering and moaning.

Mihnea was behind them, stooped in front of a large hearth.  He stacked up several pieces of wood and lit a fire for them.

“Wh-what are y-you going to do with us?” Michael stuttered.

“You and your sister will be traded for Olaf Van Helsing, that is if your father values your lives.  Sounds like a fair exchange doesn’t it?”

“And h-her?” he asked regarding Magda.

“You seem to care about this girl.  Perhaps that will motivate you to behave.  If you want to protect her, then do as I tell you.”  He reached down and touched Magda’s hair.  “Although, I must admit that a certain part of me hopes that you don’t.  She is a very pretty girl.  I’m sure I could find a place for her here in my castle.”

Michael kicked his hand away from her.

“M-my father will never betray Olaf to you.  He’ll find a way to help us without giving in to you.  He’ll be coming for us soon.”

“Really?” Mihnea asked mockingly.  He stood and walked to the window.  “Not unless he learns how to fly.  Come take a look.”

Michael pulled himself up and staggered to the window.  What he saw was shocking.  The sun had not yet come up, and many twinkling stars could be seen hanging in the distance, but it was getting lighter.  Dark clouds swirled around in a frenzy far below, and violent flashes of lighting jumped between them.  Michael could only guess how high they were, but it looked like the surface of the Earth was thousands of feet beneath them.

“I’ll have some food brought to you shortly,” Mihnea told him.  “After all, I want your stay to be as comfortable as possible.”

“That’s awfully nice of you,” Michael said, wishing he could strangle the man.

“You’d better see to your friends, they look a little cold,” Mihnea told him.  “I’ll be in touch.  Until then, enjoy your stay!”  He jumped from the ledge of the window and flew around the tower out of sight.

Michael hurried back to the girls and pulled them toward the fire.  They were soaking wet, and for the first time he realized that he was too.  Perhaps it was because much of the water had turned to ice, and his entire body felt frozen and stiff anyway.  Magda looked up and him and tried to smile, but she was shivering so much that her teeth chattered.

He added more fuel to the fire, and before long the hearth blazed and billowed heat out into the room.

After Abigail stopped shaking, she went to the window and gazed out.  “Where the heck are we anyway?  This place is like Rapunzel’s nightmare.”

“This must be Dracula’s Castle,” Magda frowned.  “We’re trapped.  Mihnea wouldn’t have put us up here if there was any way out.”

“There’s always a way out,” Michael told her assuringly.  “He just doesn’t think we’re smart enough to find it.  Either that or he may not know about it himself.”

“Do you think Mom might have followed us here?” Abigail blurted out.

Magda raised her eyebrows.  “What’s that supposed to mean?  How could she have done that?”

Michael glanced at his sister reproachfully, then took hold of her and began to stroke her hair playfully.  “I think she may still be a little delirious,” he told Magda.  “Try and be more careful,” he whispered to Abigail.

“Sorry,” she whined back.  “I think you’re right though, that flight did make me a bit delirious.”

“Alright,” Michael said, clenching his hand into a fist.  “We can’t assume that anyone knows where we are or is planning on coming after us.  We’ve got to find our own way out of here.”

“Look, they left all our stuff,” Magda said, going through their things.  “They even left our weapons.  Why would they do that?”

“I think Mihnea enjoys playing with peoples minds,” Abigail said.

Michael nodded.  “He’s trying to tell us how weak we are.  He’s daring us to try and use our weapons against him; it’s like a game to him.”

Magda walked back from the window and sat down near the fire.  “That makes sense.  He was doing the same thing by daring you to shoot at him earlier, in front of that crowd.  He likes to lord his power over people, make them look foolish.”

“That’s right,” Michael agreed, “but little does he know I’m going to shove one of these arrows right up his —“

“WATCH IT,” Abigail warned him.

“…Nose,” Michael finished.  “But thanks for the warning, Mom.”

“Well someone has to teach you manners when she’s not around,” Abigail spat.  “You sure don’t seem to have any sometimes.”

Magda sighed.  “Do you two constantly bicker like this?”

“Only when we’re together,” Michael told her, rummaging through his pockets.  He pulled his faery lantern out and held it before them.

“What’s that?” Magda asked him.  “An electric torch?”

“You could say that,” he told her.  “It’s a light.  It has a way or revealing things you can’t see with the naked eye.”  He walked around the circular tower chamber, looking carefully at the stones in the wall and floor.  “Come on you two and give me a hand.  Six eyes are better than two.”

They followed along beside him.  “What exactly are we searching for?” Magda asked.

“Anything out of the ordinary, especially anything that lights up or glows brightly.”

The chamber wasn’t very large, and contained several basic pieces of furniture.  There were two armchairs, one still standing and the other scattered across the floor where Michael had landed.  There was a decrepit old wardrobe, a large freestanding mirror, and a canopy bed.  They looked under the bed, inside the wardrobe, and behind every nook and cranny they could find, but nothing seemed out of the ordinary.  There didn’t seem to be any switches, passages, or doorways.  The search didn’t take very long, and they couldn’t find anything that stood out.  Maybe they really were stuck after all.

Then Michael noticed that when he approached the window it took on a strange glow.  “Are you really telling me that the window is the only way out?” he said to the lantern.

“Don’t tell me that thing talks, too,” Magda asked, putting her hands on her hips.

“Don’t worry,” Abigail told her.  “He doesn’t have many friends, so he’s learned to talk to inanimate objects.”

Michael leaned out the window and looked around.  The stone wall looked rough enough to scale, but he couldn’t imagine how even the greatest climber in the world could get all the way down without falling, and he was no climber.  He gazed out into the distance, hoping to see his mother flying toward them, but he could see nothing.  He glanced up and far to the left and nearly jumped out of his skin at what he saw above them.

Off in the distance beyond the top of their tower he could make out the form of another, even taller tower.  A large chain hung between them like a humungous, rusty clothesline.  There was another window in the tower just above the chain.

“Well,” Michael said, turning toward the girls.  “I think I found a way out of here, but I don’t think you’re going to like it.”

“I REALLY, REALLY HATE YOU SOMETIMES YOU KNOW THAT YOU BIG PSYCHOPATH!” screamed Abigail as she swung through the air.

“Grab onto my hand, and stop screaming.  It’s not helping anything.”  Michael reached out and grabbed his little sister, drawing her back by the jacket.”

“I don’t know WHY I ever LISTEN TO YOU!”

“It’s the only way out of here.  Now try again and stop freaking out.  That’s why you keep falling.”

It hadn’t been easy to get the rope around the tip of the tower.  First they pulled out as many threads as they could from the blankets on the bed, tied them together, and then tied the strings to the rope Michael had in his backpack. Michael then tied the other end of the string to an arrow and had to wait until the wind was just right so he could shoot it up over the tip of the tower, and then retrieve the arrow as it came swinging back around on the other side.  This had taken many frustrating attempts, but eventually they succeeded.  And now the rope was tied around Abigail’s waist.

She began the climb again as Michael pulled the rope taut.  “Just go slowly and don’t look down.  There’s plenty of rock to hold on to.”

“That’s easy for you to say,” she said softly, trying to calm herself down, “you’re not the one out here.  My hands are cold and covered in sweat!”

She climbed slowly and much to everyone’s relief, made it up to the top and carefully pulled herself onto the stone tiles of the roof.  The wind blew her hair out horizontally from her body as she carefully untied herself and lowered the rope back down.

“Got it,” Michael called up to her as he reached out and took the rope.  “Okay, it’s your turn,” he said to Magda.  “It’s going to be dark again soon so we need to hurry.”

“You’re not tying that thing around me.  I’d feel like a worm on a hook.”  She pulled out her daggers and climbed out onto the wall, thrusting them into the crevices and using them as grips to pull herself up.  Michael watched her admiringly as she went.  He was amazed at the way she flew up the wall without fear; she’d obviously done this sort of thing before.

Now it was his turn.  He tied the rope around his chest and climbed carefully out onto the ledge, and then he reached over and took hold of a jagged looking rock.  This can’t be that hard, he thought to himself.  Abby did it, and she’s a lot more afraid of heights than I am.  He cautiously pulled himself out and began to move up the wall.  His hands began to sweat, and he suddenly felt guilty for pushing Abigail along so hard.  It was more difficult than it looked, especially with sweaty hands.

One hand over the other, jagged rock to hidden crevice, he pulled himself up until he reached the top.  Almost there, he thought to himself as he reached up and caught hold of one of the stone roof tiles.  He strained to pull himself over the edge, and the heavy tile came loose, sliding off and catching him in the chest.  He gasped in surprise, as his remaining hand was knocked free.  He saw the shock on Magda’s face as she reached out to grab his arm.  She caught the tips of his sweaty fingers, which slid through her hands as he fell away.  He heard her scream; Abigail screamed as well, and time seemed to slow down as he watched their faces disappear over the edge of the tower.  Moments later a jolt of pain shot through his body as the rope broke his fall.  He heard a snap, and was terrified for a moment as he thought he’d broken his back, but soon realized the sound had come from the rope, and he was falling once again, watching the tower window fade into the distance above.

Well, this was it then, he was going to die, Michael realized.  His thoughts turned to Abigail and Magda, what were they going to do now?  He’d gotten them up to the top of a tower thousands of feet high and then left them there to meet whatever horrible fate awaited them.  Abigail must be terrified.  She hated heights, and losing him would make it even harder to go on herself.  He only hoped that Magda would take care of her, she was a lot tougher than she realized, and if they were smart they could both make it out alive.

Michael turned his body to watch the face of the earth as he fell.  If he was going to die, he might as well confront it bravely.  He might as well meet his maker head-on.  Was he ready to meet God?  Liam had always been more religious than him.  He wished now that he’d given more thought to it when he’d had the chance.  Now, whatever would be would be.

He thought of his parents, and how they’d miss him.  He felt guilty and sorry for that.  At least they’d still have Abby, if she were able to make it through.  He felt the worst for his mother.  She’d already gone through so much pain in her life, and now she’d have to deal with this as well.  Would his father hate him for causing her more pain?

Michael passed through the dark swirling clouds, he breathed the damp air into his lungs with his mind set on enjoying the smell of rain one the last time, and his thoughts turned to Magda, and how they’d kissed amidst a downpour of rain.  He’d wondered if it had been a good sign or a bad one.  Now he had the answer.  Perhaps they would have been good together; perhaps he would have even married her one day.  Now someone else would have her.  He felt jealous.

Soaring through the air, he remembered how happy he’d been when he and the others jumped from the airplane less than a week before.  He’d enjoyed free falling through the sky then, but having a parachute strapped to your back made a huge difference.  How he envied his mother, who could soar through the sky on her own wings.  What that must feel like!  How wonderful it would be.

Then a thought came to him- a wonderful, exciting, invigorating thought.  What if he could change just like his mother?  He could fly on his own wings to safety, and even return to help the girls.  Liam had changed for the first time when he was falling just like this.  Maybe if he concentrated enough, wanted it enough, then he’d be able to do it!

He closed his eyes and pictured it.  Change into a bird, he commanded himself.  CHANGE INTO A BIRD!  Just do it you WIMP, you WEAKLING.  Do it and save yourself, save ABBY AND MAGDA!  Change into a bird, change into a bird!

Suddenly Michael felt a strange jerking sensation.  He opened his eyes to see the castle wall standing still in the morning light beside him, and then he began to ascend back up toward the clouds.

“I don’t think this is the place either,” Mark Belmont said as they watched another tour begin near the entrance to Bran Castle.

“I wish Alucard had been more specific about where he was going,” agreed Declan.  “This castle is rumored to’ve been associated with Dracula, but there’s no real proof for it.  And Hunyad Castle didn’t show any more signs of being Mihnea’s stronghold than this place does.”

Liam ran up to them, waving his faery lantern through the air.  “I didn’t see anything unusual,” he reported.  “I even snuck into some sealed off areas, and I’m pretty sure that this isn’t Mihnea’s castle.”

“Stop waving that thing around,” his father told him.  “People are looking at you like you’re out of your mind.”

“People always look at me that way,” Liam mused.  “I’m getting used to it.”

His father just stood shaking his head in annoyance.

Liam put the lantern in his pocket.  “So let me get this straight, the only leads we have for the location of Dracula’s Castle are this place, Hunyad Castle, and Poenari Castle?”

Mr. Belmont unfolded his map to show Liam the location of the other two castles.  “That’s right.  These three castles are our prime suspects because of their historical links to Dracula, but we’ve been to all three of them now, and we’ve seen no trace of Mihnea.  I don’t see how he could be occupying a castle in any part of Romania without the surrounding residents knowing about it.”

Liam’s father crossed his arms and frowned.  “You would have thought Alucard would tell us where the blasted place was.  He must of assumed we’d be able to find it easily enough, but then again he meant to come back and lead us there himself.”

“Doesn’t Caleb Boone know the way?” Liam asked.

“He’s never been there himself, although he seems to think that Poenari Castle is the likely choice.”

“If you take me there, I can explore the place with my lantern,” Liam told them, taking it back out and waving it in his father’s face.

He swiped at it dismissively.  “Well you’ll have to sniff around like one of the Queen’s hounds because that lantern’s going to be shoved up your nose if you don’t cut it out.”

Mr. Belmont’s phone rang.  “Oh, hi honey…no, I’m sorry, the phone wasn’t getting reception up in the mountains, I…YOU WHAT?”

Liam snuck the map out of Mr. Belmont’s hand and held it out to take another look.  “You said that out of these three castles, Poenari is the most run down and the hardest to get to right?”

“It’s only ruins now, but hikers and sightseers climb up there on a regular basis,” his father said.

“I bet that’s where we need to go.  You two must have missed something!”

“And you think you’ll be able to find it, do you?  Do you know how long Mark and I have been kicking over stones together?  If we couldn’t find it, then it isn’t there.”

“But Da,” protested Liam, “you didn’t have this with you.”  He gave the faery lantern another shake.  “I know it’s hard to believe when you haven’t seen it for yourself, but this thing is amazing.  It helped us escape the traps in the Necropolis of Anubis, and it let us see those spirits in the Fianna Barrows too.”

“Alright, just hold yer horses for a moment, I don’t like the look of this,” he said, nodding toward Mr. Belmont, who was just getting off the phone.

The man shook his head and began massaging his temples. “That was Rachel, she just got out of the hospital in Eindhoven.  She was shot down by one of Mihnea’s ghouls while keeping an eye on the kids.  The bullet clipped her wing, and now her arm’s in a sling.”

Liam gritted his teeth.  His own mother was gone, and in many ways he thought of Mrs. Belmont like a second mum.  “Is she going to be alright?”

“Yes,” Mr. Belmont said, putting a hand on Liam’s shoulder, “but I’m afraid there’s more.  The orphanage was burnt to the ground.  Everyone survived, but the kids and the Van Helsing girl were taken.”

Liam and his father locked eyes, they were at a loss for words.

“Now that Finnegan’s on his way to pick up Olaf, I’ll call Caleb and have him meet us at Poenari Castle.  I hope you’re right about that lantern of yours, Liam, because if we don’t find anything out there this time we’re back to square one.”

Michael felt himself rising back up through the air.  For a moment, he thought he’d actually changed himself into a bird, but then he looked down and noticed his normal body dangling beneath him.  He snapped his head up to see the same vampire that had brought him to the tower in the first place.

“You need to be more careful, boy,” the bat-thing spat.  “The master would be most displeased to find you mashed to bits upon the rocks.  He needs you alive!  For now.”  The creature let out a deep, guttural laugh.

“So I’ve heard,” Michael told him impertinently.  “Thanks for the lift, SLAVE!”

The monster laughed again, drawing his claws into Michael’s shoulders.  He gritted his teeth in pain.

“Do you think your insults will harm me, you pathetic weakling?  You’d better watch your mouth.  Once the master is through with you he may allow me to keep you for a pet.”

Michael decided to hold his tongue as the beast carried him back up to the tower window.  It threw him back in, this time even harder than before, and he crashed into the same armchair, sending a few more pieces of the rotting wood flying across the room.

“Hey, where are your little friends?” the thing asked suspiciously as it crouched in the window and looked around.

“Dead,” Michael told him.  “They jumped out the window just before I did.”

“Ha-ha-ha,” the thing's laugh echoed through the chamber like a bass drum.  “You are as bad at lying as you are at flying.  I would have seen them- just like I saw you.”  It bore into him with its little red eyes.  “Girls, come out now and have a bite of the dinner I’ve caught for you.”  He cast a sack on the floor, and a dozen terrified rats scurried out to seek a new hiding place.  “Come on out now and I’ll give you a big kiss.” He stuck out his long, purple tongue.  “Doesn’t that sound nice? HA!”

“So you want a kiss too, do you?” came a muffled shout from above.  “Men!  You’re all the same.”

The beast hissed in surprise and hung out the window to look up.

“You’ll have to come up here to get it,” Magda yelled, and the bat creature jumped into the air.  Michael dashed back to the window and stuck his head out.  He saw the beast hanging in mid-air glaring at the top of the roof.

“What are you two doing up here?” the creature sneered, “trying to escape?” He laughed maniacally.  “My compliments for making it this far.  Let me guess, you’re headed for the other tower?  If I hadn’t caught you, you might have done it.  After all, you made it up here.  But you don’t know what awaits you over there, do you?  I’m tempted to let you go find out, but the master wouldn’t like that.  No, he wouldn’t like that at all.  I’m afraid I’m going to have to put you back into your cage, but this time I’ll bar the window.”

Michael watched the creature move in toward the roof above him, and disappear out of his sight.  He ached to go up and help, but if he wasn’t careful he’d just fall off again, and this time the beast might not catch him in time.

“No, get away from me and leave me alone.  PUT ME DOWN!” Abigail screamed.

A great commotion rang out from the roof.  There were thuds, screeches and curses, and Michael’s skin crawled as he yearned to see what was happening.  He expected to see the beast come floating back down with a girl in each arm, the way Caleb had held them after he’d broken up their fight, or perhaps one of them come shooting off the roof and the bat creature flying behind to catch her.  Michael was scared, but at least he knew the beast wouldn’t harm them- not much anyway.

Suddenly there was a loud thud, and he could hear something sliding off the roof.  After a few moments the limp body of the vampire came dropping over the edge.  As he fell, Michael saw one of Magda’s silver daggers buried in the beast’s heart.  He watched as it fell into the distance below, gradually turning to ash as it went.

“Are you both alright up there?” Michael called up nervously.

“We’re fine,” Magda answered.  “Although your sister looks like she’s just been attacked by a vampire.”

Michael shook his head and smiled.  He loved Magda’s sense of humor, although he was too tired and shaken to laugh.

“Well,” she called down, “hurry and get up here.  But be more careful this time.”

Michael took a long deep breath.  Here goes, he thought to himself.  He reached out and took hold of the rope- luckily it had snapped near the bottom, and there was still enough to tie around his waist.  Although he didn’t trust the rope anymore, it was better than nothing.

He cautiously climbed the side of the tower wall, but it was even more difficult this time around, it was starting to get dark, and his hands were sweatier than before.  Eventually he made it up and over the edge of the roof without a hitch.  Abigail and Magda wrapped their arms around him; both of them were crying.

“We thought we’d lost you,” Magda told him.

“I thought so too,” he said.  “Believe me, that fall was not something I want to experience again.”  He ruffled his sister’s hair.  “Are you ready to keep moving, Abby?”

She didn’t say anything, but nodded as the tears streamed down her face.

“Alright, we need to keep going, it’s our only chance.”

Michael looked out at the heavy chain, which hung between the two towers.  The links were about a foot wide and two feet long, and very thick.  Long icicles hung down from the section near their own tower, and a few smaller ones were scattered farther down.  The evening air was downright cold, and Michael knew the chain would be freezing.  They’d have to get across before their bodies numbed up so bad that they couldn’t feel what they were doing.  Michael couldn’t imagine how much the chain weighed.  How could it even dangle there without pulling the towers down with the sheer force of gravity?  Squinting into the darkness he could see that similar chains connected various other parts of the castle.  A few of them dangled lifelessly down the side of the castle wall.  Michael returned his attention to the chain below.

“We can shimmy across this thing with it between our legs.  I don’t think we have to worry about it turning over because it’s so heavy.  I doubt our weight will affect it, but we’d better tie ourselves off just in case.”

He drew the rope up and they cut it into smaller sections, tying a length around their waists, and the other end in a loop they could easily move along the chain.

“So how are we going to do this?” Magda asked.  “One at a time, or together?”

“I’M NOT GOING OUT ACROSS THAT THING ALONE ARE YOU PEOPLE CRAZY?”  Abigail was visibly shaking, from the cold or from fear, Michael couldn’t tell.

He gave her shoulder an encouraging squeeze.  “Well that answers our question.  It’s probably better to do it together anyway, that way if there’s a snag we can help each other.”

They carefully moved out onto the chain and finished the knots.  Magda took the lead, Abigail was placed in the middle, and Michael brought up the rear.

Dracula’s Castle loomed up in the distance above them.  It was a cloudy night, but a crescent moon hung in the sky giving just enough light to hold the darkness at bay.  Looking down, the only thing to be seen was blackness and an occasional passing bat.  Every time they saw one, they held still until it was gone.  After all, they weren’t positive that these things were ordinary bats.

“Alright, easy does it, you’re doing great.  Abby, you have to keep your eyes open.  That’s it, you’re doing great.”  Michael wasn’t sure what was more exhausting, moving across the chain, or the constant encouragement he had to give his sister.  He’d never seen her more terrified, and although she was doing her best to keep going, he found himself constantly having to push her.

After what seemed like hours, they’d made it within just a few dozen feet from the other tower.  “Come on Abby, we’re almost there.  Look!”

She raised her eyes and tried to force a smile.  Michael smiled back, but then something off in the distance caught his attention.

“Hold on,” he whispered to the girls.  “Don’t move for a minute.”  Magda shrugged at him questioningly.  “Over there,” he whispered again.

She turned her head to find what he was looking at, and nearly fell over backwards.  Far down toward the other side of the castle, on a chain leading from the keep to another tower, a humongous form swung playfully along, hand over hand like a gorilla.  It stopped and gazed in their direction, muscles bulging as it hung from the chain.

Magda squinted her eyes to get a good look at it, but it was so dark she couldn’t see any real details.  Was the thing even human?  “Do you think that’s what these chains are for?  Just so that creature can move around the castle?”

“I don’t know,” said Michael.  He stared at the beast nervously, relieved when it finally resumed its path toward the keep.  “What the heck is that thing?”

“Can we just hurry up and get inside,” Abigail pleaded.  “What if it sees us?”

Michael nodded and patted her hand.

They finished scurrying along the chain, and as soon as he cut Abigail’s rope, she scrambled up through the window as if the devil himself were behind her.  Magda followed, and finally Michael cut his own rope and pulled himself up onto the sill, eager to be on solid ground once more, and then his blood ran cold at the sound of Abigail’s scream.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Enter the Dragon

Michael hopped down from the window and landed next to Magda.  The chamber was dark and he couldn’t make out much, but he could see the form of Abigail as she stumbled backward, knocking him into the wall.

“What’s wrong with you?” he demanded.  “What are you screaming at?”

“There’s something over there!  Something big.  I saw it move just after I came through the window.”

Michael pulled out his faery lantern.  Its warm blue light enveloped the room, and he and both girls moved as far back against the wall as they could.  Michael had the sudden urge to jump back out the window, but he knew that wouldn’t turn out well.

Curled up in a ball on the floor was a dragon.  It looked up at them like a dog caught in the middle of a nap.

“I-is th-th-that what I think it is?” Magda quivered.

Michael pulled his bow from his shoulder and strung an arrow.

“Wait,” Abigail gasped, “I know what that is.”

“Uh, we all know what that is,” Michael whispered sarcastically.  “It’s a dragon.”  Ever since his encounter with Zuriel, Michael hated dragons.  He’d always thought they were a cool legend before one tried to kill his family.

“No, it’s not,” she told him.  “It’s a dracorex.”

“A what?” he snapped.  “What are you talking about?”

“It’s a dracorex hogwartsia.  A dinosaur.  Elizabeth taught me about them in science a few months ago, but they’re supposed to be extinct.”

“Yeah? And faeries, werewolves and vampires are only supposed to be legends, right?  You can’t always believe what you read, remember?”

“Fine,” said Magda, “so it’s a dracorex.  But why is it locked in a tower in Dracula’s Castle and why is it lying there staring at us?”

“I don’t know, but it doesn’t look very aggressive, does it?” Michael said.  “Maybe it’s a plant eater or something.  What are they called?  Herbvores?”

“Herbivores,” Abigail corrected him.  “And don’t act stupid to show off for Magda.  Women like smart men.”

For a moment, Michael thought about shooting Abigail instead of the dinosaur.

“So what do you have to say for yourself Lizard Lips, are you going to try and eat us?” he asked it.

To his astonishment, the creature shook its head.

“WHAT?” Abigail gasped.  “Did you see that?  Hey dinosaur, can you understand us?”

The beast nodded its head, and slowly drug itself to a standing position.  It looked really tired, or sick, or depressed.  Michael wasn’t sure which.  “Wait a minute, are you a shape-shifter?”

The beast looked as though it were thinking hard about whether it wanted to answer, but after a few moments nodded its head again.

“A shape-shifter?” Magda asked in a disgusted voice.  “We should kill it then.”

“Kill it?” snapped Abigail.  “What for?  It hasn’t done anything to us.”

“Shape-shifters are evil.  Werewolves, vampires, changelings- I’ve never heard of one who wasn’t.”

Abigail’s face was getting redder by the second.  “Well, we have!  And I don’t think you know what you’re talking about.”

Michael thought he’d better defuse the situation before they began brawling again.  “Abigail’s right.  Not all shape-shifters are bad.  In fact, we’ve met some really nice ones.”

Magda frowned at him skeptically, but it appeared that Abigail’s face was returning to a normal color.

“All right,” he told the dracorex, “now that we’ve established that none of us is going to kill each other, how about you change back into a human so we can talk.”

The creature looked down and slowly shook its head.

“Why not?” Michael asked it.  “Are you unable to change back?”

It shook its head again, and then looked up toward the ceiling.  Michael followed its gaze, where a series of heavy steel spikes hung menacingly above them.  Looking back down at the creature’s feet, he saw that it stood on a round, discolored section of the floor, it was sunk down from the stones around it by a few inches.

“It can’t change form or move off that part of the floor,” he pointed out to the girls, “otherwise it triggers those spikes, and Bronto Burgers get put on the dinner menu.”

Abigail gave him one of her this is no time for joking scowls.  “Over there by the door,” she said and pointed.

Michael looked over and saw a lever on the wall.  “Good eye, Abby.”

“What’s that?” Magda asked him.

“This’ll disengage the trap,” he told her, walking to it.

“But aren’t those things usually hidden?”

“Only when the person who built the trap doesn’t want you to find it.  Our dad told us that having a lever like this in a place where the prisoner can see it is an additional form of torture.  There’s always a little sliver of hope in the prisoner’s mind that he’ll be able to reach it, but it’s impossible.  The means of his escape is right there in front of him, but he can’t do anything about it.”  He pushed the lever up and heard it click.  “There you go,” he told the creature.

The dracorex instantly changed its form into that of a skinny old man, who wore the remnants of a tattered, gray suit.  He fell to his knees, and Michael half expected him to keel over dead.

“Th-thank you,” the old man rasped.  “Y-you wouldn’t have any water would you?”

Michael walked over and knelt down beside him.  “I’m sorry, we don’t. Who are you?”

With effort, he lifted his head to meet Michael’s eyes.  “I’m a slayer,” he coughed.  “You can call me the Dragon.”

Michael remembered Alucard’s story, and also the one Abigail had told him about the man who’d once saved Dorothy Stoker.  Could this disheveled fellow be the same one who’d befriended and helped them both all those years ago?  He could see that his sister was wondering the same thing, and discreetly shook his head to warn her from asking him about it.  He wasn’t sure yet that the old man could be trusted.

“How long have you been trapped in this tower?” he asked, helping the Dragon sit up.

“I’ve been a prisoner in this castle for a very long time.  Almost too long to remember.”  He ran his fingers through his gritty salt and pepper hair, and eyed the three children curiously.  “They have been holding me here until…wait.  Are you him?”  He stared hard into Michael’s eyes, as if he were looking for something.  “I see no resemblance, but-but why else would you have come here?”

“We didn’t come here,” Michael told him.  “We were brought.  Who is it that you think I am?”

“Tell me your name,” the old man pleaded.

Michael hesitated.  As salty as the old man was, he didn’t seem evil.  He had kind eyes.  “I’m Michael Belmont.”

“BELMONT?” he repeated as if he’d just seen a ghost.  “Well that is interesting.  Still, you’re not the one I expected.”

“You expected a Van Helsing, didn’t you?” Michael asked him.

He frowned.  “How did you know that?”

“We know about Mihnea’s plans to re-open the gateway.  We’re trying to stop him.”

“Stop him?  How?  The only way to prevent that portal from being opened is to conceal the heir of Abraham Van Helsing.”

Michael shook his head.  “Mihnea knows who he is.  He’s been killing off members of the Van Helsing family for years, and the only way to make him stop is to destroy the portal for good.”

“Destroy the portal?”  He asked hopefully.  “I-I suppose it’s possible.  Yes, I remember something he said about that.  But you’d need something else to do it, something that’s very well hidden.”

“You mean the sword of Van Helsing?” Michael nodded.  “My dad found it years ago.  But Mihnea stole it from us.”

The old man suddenly looked shocked and worried.  “It looks like I’ve missed a few things while being held here.  We need to get out of this castle; there is much to do.  C-can you help me up?” he groaned while rising slowly to his feet.

Michael and Abigail each took an arm and helped him up.

“Who said something about destroying the gateway?” Michael asked him.  “Did they tell you how to do it?”

“That’s not important now,” the Dragon told him.  “We must focus on getting out of here immediately, while we still have the chance.”

Abigail crossed her arms defiantly.  “We can’t leave yet, Elizabeth is being held here somewhere.”

“I know, but how are we going to find her on our own?”  Michael’s heart sank.  We’re no match for Mihnea.  Maybe we should come back with Dad and Caleb.”

Abigail began to weep.  “But…but we can’t just abandon her?”

“We won’t, but we need to regroup first.  Not even Alucard returned from this castle alone.  What do you think we’ll be able to do?”

“You know of Alucard?” The Dragon asked excitedly.  “How is he?  Is he alive?  Is he well?”

“We’re not sure,” Michael told him reluctantly.  “He was the last time we saw him, but he disappeared after coming here to search for our friend Elizabeth.  We haven’t been able to contact him in days.”

“His brother must be holding him captive somewhere in the castle then.  I hate to say it, but your friend is correct, little girl,” the Dragon told Abigail.  “The best thing to do would be to come back prepared for a fight, and to bring the heir of Abraham Van Helsing with us.”

“He’s my brother,” Abigail corrected him.  “Besides, Olaf Van Helsing is off lying in a coma, so I don’t think he’s going to be up for the trip any time soon.”

“How do we even know we can trust this man?” Magda demanded.  “We don’t know anything about him.”

“What choice do we have?” Michael told her.  “Besides, I just kind of…feel like we can trust him.”

Magda glared at him.  “I hope you’re right.  Our lives might depend on it.”

“Come,” said the Dragon while stumbling toward the window.  “It’s not safe to travel through the halls of the castle.  We must go another way.”

He leaned out the window and gave a sharp whistle.  “OG,” he shouted out into the blackness.

“What is he doing?” Magda whispered to Michael.  “Grunting out the window like some sort of madman?  I think he’s lost his bloody mind.”

They waited in silence for a few moments before the old man repeated the whistle.  A short time later a very strange sound rumbled in from the distance.  It began to grow louder and louder, and as it got close, Michael cringed.  He suddenly had a good idea about what it was.  He and the girls looked back and forth at each other anxiously.

Michael crept up beside the old man and looked out the window just as a large, dumb face swung up to peer in at them.  Michael staggered away and tripped over his own feet, crashing down painfully to the floor.  He held up his lantern, flooding the creature’s face with soft blue light.  It was a human face, more or less.  The thing’s head was titanic.  It had disheveled black hair and its eyes were crossed and bulging.  Its nose was pugged and smashed, and yellow crooked teeth protruded from a slobbery grin.

“Tha-that’s the thing we saw swinging on the chains outside,” stuttered Abigail.

“You called that creature here, WHY?” Magda demanded as she drew her daggers.

The Dragon raised his hands, trying to calm her down.  “It’s alright.  He’s harmless, I assure you.  Well, perhaps harmless isn’t the right word, but he’ll listen to me.  He won’t hurt you.”  He turned to the creature, who smiled at him dumbly as a stream of drool dripped from his mouth.  “Og, we need you to take us down to the Garden of the Setting Sun, can you do that?”

“Og, og,” the creature grunted happily like a dog waiting for a ball to be thrown.

“Alright, you’ll have to go slowly, and be very careful not to drop us.  Do you understand?”

“Og,” he agreed with a nod.

Without warning, Og reached in through the window and snatched Magda and the Dragon with one hand.  He carefully pulled them through the window.  Michael jumped to his feet and ran to look out.  He saw that Og was perched on the chain like a bird, holding on tightly with his toes.  He drew out a large brown sack and gently placed his two passengers inside.  Abigail looked terrified, and Michael gave her shoulder an assuring squeeze.

“Hold on,” he told her, “I think things are about to get interesting.

Michael was next to go into the bag, and he was caught off guard by the creature’s gentle touch.  His slid into the sack until his feet reached the bottom, and he felt Magda’s body pressed tightly up against him.  It was uncomfortable and exhilarating.

“I feel like a sardine in here,” she complained.

Abigail’s scream pierced the air as she was picked up.  Og tried to place her in the sack, and her feet bounced off the other's heads several times before he realized she wasn’t going to fit.  A moment later Michael heard her scream again and shout out something incoherent.  Then they swung off through the darkness.  The creaking and screeching of the chains cut through the night like nails on a chalkboard, which was interrupted only by the screams and disgusted shrieks of Abigail.  Michael wondered what Og had done with her.

The whole trip was disorienting.  This is what laundry must feel like, Michael thought to himself.  He wanted to say it out loud to make Magda laugh, but was afraid he’d throw-up if he opened his mouth.  Back and forth through the air they swung, moving from one chain to another, sliding down or landing on some unseen surface only to bound off again.  It might have been fun had it not been nauseating.

Eventually they came to a stop and Michael felt himself being poured from the sack.  He took a few deep breaths to try and clear his head.  The world was spinning, but as he regained his senses he could see the decrepit remnants of an ancient garden, bathed in moonlight.  He sat up to see that Abigail was standing before him with her hands curled into fists.  She looked like she’d just climbed out of a pond.

“Why are you all wet?” Michael asked her dumbly.

She looked as if her head might pop off.  “HIS MOUTH!” she screamed.  “He carried me IN HIS MOUTH.  You got the SACK, BUT I GOT PUT IN THE BIG OAF’S MOUTH.”  She looked over herself in disgust.  “Can you see any teeth marks on me?” she asked, lifting up her shirt and trying to see her back.

Michael stood up and took a look.  “No, not really,” he told her, although he did see some faint red marks near the small of her back.  It didn’t look like anything that wouldn’t fade away soon enough.

Magda looked Abigail over and frowned like she might be sick.  “You have some snot in your hair,” she said, wiping it away for her.

“I could feel his tongue rubbing back and forth across my stomach,” she wept.

Og just stood there smiling stupidly at them.

“Good boy, Og.  Good boy,” the Dragon told him.  “I don’t have a treat for you, I’m sorry.”  Og looked disappointed, but grinned at them once more before waving goodbye and bounding off into the darkness.

“Follow me,” the Dragon told Abigail, “and I’ll show you where you can wash yourself off.”

The Dragon stealthily led his three young companions through the garden, as if he were expecting just about anything.  He led them through dense foliage and hidden trails, attempting to keep under cover when possible, and avoid the open areas where they’d be easier seen.  The Garden of the Setting Sun was a massive place, and was located both inside and outside the castle.  It reminded Michael of a botanical gardens, complete with gazeboes, pergolas, and greenhouses, and despite its beauty was easily the eeriest garden he’d ever visited.

Michael noticed that the man guiding them already looked much better than he had when they’d freed him not an hour before.  Perhaps the cold, fresh air was doing him some good.

“Is there something living in this garden that we need to be worried about?” Michael whispered.

“Who knows?  All forms of wickedness dwell within this castle and on its grounds.  The place seems to draw evil like a sponge.  Apart from that, Dracula conducted many bizarre experiments.  That poor beast that brought us from the tower is one such example.  He was one of several similar creatures assigned to guard the castle, most of which are now dead.  For the most part however, Og keeps to himself and is more content to eat and sleep than track down any would-be intruders.”

“Dracula created that thing?” Abigail asked.

“Created?  No.  Manipulated or reformed might be more appropriate words.  No man is capable of creating life, although there are some who have attempted to modify it, corrupt it, even re-animate it.  The count did not shy away from any such practices.  Ahh, here we are.  The water here is pure.  It comes from a hot spring, so it will be warm enough to bathe in.  I can’t remember the last time I had a good wash.”

The immense statue of a voluptuous woman loomed over them.  She wore a thin flowing sheet of stone, which was veiled in ice, and her nose was missing.  She stood in a circular stone pool and poured a heavy stream of water from a fat pot, which filled the pool before pouring out into a canal that crept through other parts of the garden.

The steaming water must have been a tempting sight for Abigail, who promptly kicked her shoes off and jumped in to immerse herself, clothes and all, in the flowing stream from the pot.  Magda looked at Michael and chuckled.  He was glad to see her smiling again.

“I wish I had some shampoo,” Abigail lamented to no one in particular while scrubbing furiously with her bare hands.

After she was done, the Dragon said “My turn!  You all might want to turn around, unless you want your brains scarred.  I don’t shower with my clothes on.”

They turned their backs while he stepped beneath the stream.

Michael insisted that Abigail ring her clothes out, so Magda helped her while he stood guard.  Then he put her shirt in his backpack and gave her his jacket to wear, insisting that he’d be warm enough without it, and that he didn’t want a popsicle for a little sister.

“So what’s the plan now?” Michael called over his shoulder to the old man.  “Is this the easiest way out of here, or what?”

“There’s something we need to retrieve,” he told them.  “And then we’re off.  We need to get out of here as quickly as possible.  I’m sorry for the delay, but seeing this warm water was just too tempting.  You have no idea how much you miss certain things until they’re taken away from you.”

“So there’s something nearby that you want to retrieve?” Magda asked suspiciously.  “What is it?”

“A weapon we can use to help us defeat Mihnea.  If he succeeds in opening that portal, then ordinary weapons will be useless against what comes out.”

A few minutes later when everyone was sufficiently clean and refreshed, they continued on through the garden.  A variety of trees and other forms of plant life surrounded them on all sides, but many had gone dormant for the winter, and the entire place was in great need of repair.  It looked like whoever had been tasked with taking care of the garden was in way over his head.  There were stones and barriers out of place, broken statues and cracked pots, overgrown shrubs and vines growing out of control, yet the place somehow retained much of its charm.

They soon came to a dirt path that led them up a steep hill and through a dense patch of snow covered evergreens.  Michael gazed back behind them.  Castle Dracula rose up into the night, wearing the crescent moon like a crown and the stars like a sparkling robe.  Enchanted and disturbed by its presence, Michael again turned his eyes to the path ahead.  The trail climbed sharply, and there were a few points when he found himself using his hands to climb as well as his feet.  Reaching the top of the hill, the trees cleared and they could see the main road leading up to the castle, upon which Michael noticed some strange lights and stopped to take a look.

“Come on,” the Dragon told him, pulling him along by the arm.  “We’re nearly there now, we need to keep moving.”

Soon they were descending the other side of the hill, and after walking a short distance they arrived at the edge of a steep cliff.

“Carefully now,” the old man warned them.  “This is where things get interesting.”

“THIS is where things get interesting?” Abigail complained.  She began mumbling incoherently under her breath, but followed him down the path.

Magda came up beside Michael and glowered at him.  “You still think this is a good idea?”

He just shrugged at her.  “I guess we’ll find out soon enough.  And don’t get touchy with me, sweetheart.  This party was thrown for you Van Helsings, remember?  I’m just another name on the guest-list.”

She smirked at him threateningly and shook her head.

He took her hand and grasped it tightly.  “Come on, we need to stay together.  Abigail might need my help getting down.”  They started down the stone steps that led them down the face of the cliff.  It actually wasn’t as bad as Michael expected.  The steps were all fairly wide, except a few spots where the path narrowed to a mere few feet.  There were a few small patches of ice, but these were easily spotted.

“Come on, Abby,” Michael called ahead encouragingly.  “We’ve been on hikes worse than this.  Remember Camelback Mountain last summer?”  She nodded, but kept her eyes glued to the path.

They climbed for several minutes before reaching a large opening in the cliff face.  They stepped inside, stopping short of the veil of darkness hanging before them.  “Wait here for just a moment,” the Dragon told them.  He disappeared and a few moments later they heard the strike of a match and saw two torches light up.  The old man came back and handed one of them to Michael.  “Watch your step,” he warned them as they crept inside.  “The ground is wet and uneven.”

They hadn’t gone far when the cave wall appeared out of the darkness before them.  In the center, carved out of the stone, was the pillared entrance to a crypt, and as they approached it Michael gaped at the image he saw etched across the stone door.  It was the same symbol he’d seen branded on the arm of Caleb Boone and his own father- the symbol of The Order of the Dragon.

“I’ve seen that symbol.  It stands for the Order of the Dragon,” Michael said excitedly.  “What’s it doing down here?”

“So you know of the order?” the Dragon asked.  “Well, it’s not surprising, considering your family history.”

Michael didn’t say anything to that.  He didn’t want to let on that he didn’t know much about the order, other than his father and Caleb both wore the symbol.

“If you know of the order, then perhaps you’ve heard of the man to whose remains we are going beyond this wall.”  His sad face wandered off to look into the distance, as if he were seeing something that happened a long time ago.

“And that might be?” asked Michael, drawing him back.

“You might know him as Saint George of Lydda, or Saint George the Dragonslayer.”

“You knew him, didn’t you?” Michael asked.

Magda scowled.  “What?  Don’t be ridiculous, Michael.  George the Dragonslayer died over seventeen hundred years ago.”

The old man raised an eyebrow.  “I’m impressed.  You know your history, young lady.”

“I do when it applies to monster-slayers,” she said accusingly.

Michael continued to examine the man’s eyes.  “You did, didn’t you?  You knew him.  He was a friend of yours.”

The Dragon thought for a moment.  “I suppose that to deny it would dishonor his memory.  Yes, I knew him.  He was a great friend, and one of the most brave, purest souls I have ever known, and as you seem to have figured out, I’ve known many.”

“Who exactly are you?” Abigail asked him, “and why were you being held in the castle?”

He eyed the three of them over, and for a moment looked as though he would protest.  “Alright,” he consented.  “I might as well tell you.  As the saying goes- an old tongue loves to wag, and I am very old and have had nobody to talk to for quite some time now.”  He sat down and leaned against one of the pillars.  Michael and Abigail sat as well, and Magda leaned with her back against the cavern wall, fidgeting with her daggers.

“Let’s see,” the old man scratched his stubbled face.  “Where should I begin?”  He took a long, deep breath.  “When I was a boy, I lived alone with my mother in a village not far from here.  I remember having a happy childhood, and my mother was very loving and kind, but she was also very sad.  She pined for my father, you see, who I only encountered a handful of times as a child.  I don’t really remember much about him.  Well, at some point, I think I was actually around your age, I discovered my ability to turn into a dragon.  Needless to say that it was quite a shock.”

“But you turn into a dinosaur, not a dragon,” Abigail interrupted him.

He shrugged at her.  “Call it what you will, my dear, but that word hasn’t been around very long.  When I was your age there were many different kinds of dragons wandering the earth.  Some of them were fairly gentle, and some were very dangerous.  Well, I never posed a threat to anybody, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t give people a terrible fright from time to time, not that I meant to.  I even protected my people from the dangerous sort of dragons, but they didn’t know what I was doing, they just thought I was another of the bad ones.”

“This is the most ridiculous story I’ve ever heard,” broke in Magda, “the poor old bloke has lost his mind up in that tower.”

“Don’t mind her,” Michael said, waving her off, “she’s just a mean old skeptic.”

The firelight from the torches danced on the old man’s face as he grinned and nodded.  “As well she should be,” he said.  “At any rate, an aspiring dragon-slayer got wind of my terrorizing and came to slay me.  He asked several children of the village, myself included, if we knew anything about where to find the beast.  I volunteered to help, and we became great friends.  I refrained from causing any disturbances, and thought he would eventually give up and leave, but one thing about George, he was persistent.  He always got the job done, that was one of the many great things about him.”

“Did you tell him what you could do?” Abigail asked excitedly.

“Actually, I suspected he was on to me, although I couldn’t figure out how.  I got tired of lying to everyone and changed by form right there in front of him and the whole village.  I thought for sure he was going to kill me, but he actually ended up saving me from the villagers.  They didn’t understand what I was, and thought I was a practitioner of some dark magic.”

“Were you?” Magda asked with a frown.

“No,” he replied happily.  “Till this day I don’t know for sure where my ability comes from.  Though I think the identity of my father might have something to do with it.”

“What happened after he saved you?” Abigail asked,  “What did you do then?”

“Well, George brought my mother and I back to this castle, and he took me under his wing and taught me how to fight the forces of evil.  Together, we started the Order of the Dragon as a way of training faithful soldiers who could replace us after we died.  After George passed away, I continued on with the work we’d started.  But something strange happened.  My mother grew old and died, as did everyone else around me, but I aged at an astoundingly slow rate.  Who knows how much time I have left on this Earth, I only know that I’ve far outlived the timespan of any normal man.”

“And you were never able to find out anything else about your father?” Michael asked him.

“Not really, but to be honest my father is not a subject I’ve ever liked to discuss.”

“So you’re trying to tell us that this castle once belonged to Saint George the Dragonslayer?” Magda asked doubtfully.

“Oh yes,” he nodded.  “As did the weapon you refer to as the Sword of Van Helsing.”

“He’s telling the truth,” Michael demanded.  He’d seen the origin of the sword in his visions when he’d touched it, and knew the old man was being honest with them.

“How do you know that?” Magda insisted.

“It’s hard to explain right now.  I’ll tell you everything later, but for now you’re just going to have to trust me.”

Magda gave him a hard stare, and Michael could almost see the gears turning inside her head.  Eventually she nodded at him in agreement, although she didn’t look happy about it.

“You still haven’t explained why Mihnea was holding you here,” Magda said.  “What were his plans for you?”

“He was holding me here because my blood is valuable to him in his dark rituals.  He was holding me because of my relationship to him, and to his father.  Tell me, do you not know what the name Dracula means?”

Michael gasped as he realized what the man was saying.  “It means…Son of the Dragon.”

“You mean you’re Dracula’s father?”  Abigail began to back slowly away from him.

“Yes,” he said sadly.  “I am Vlad II Dracul- Vlad the Dragon.  My son was the great prince of evil, Vlad III Dracula, also known as Vlad the Impaler.  But the subject of my son’s betrayal is another thing I’m not eager to talk about.  Not right now, anyway.  Come, we have work to do.”  He rose to his feet and clapped his hands, rubbing them together furiously to warm them up.  “It appears I’ve overlooked one thing,” he said more cheerfully.  “You’ll have to forgive me, my mind has been a bit clouded.  Anyway, we need something to smash our way through this door.  I had a key that could open up any door in the castle, but Mihnea took it from me.  I was so used to having it with me that I’d forgotten I needed it until we were standing right here in front of this door.”

“I don’t see a keyhole,” Abigail observed.  “Is there some way we can pick the lock?”

“I’m afraid it doesn’t work that way.  George was the master and guardian of this castle, and only he could open these sealed doors, but he gave me a gauntlet, which acted as a key and allowed me to gain access to them as well.”

Magda bent down and examined the door more closely.  “A gauntlet?  How would that help us open this thing?”

“I just wore it on my right hand and was able to push the doors open.”

“But how did Mihnea get around the castle before he took it from you?” Michael asked him.

“Most of the doors in the castle aren’t like this one.  There are only a few that have the special seal, like the door to the throne room.”

Michael leaned over and gave the door a hard push.  It didn’t budge.  “So, if this door is sealed magically or whatever, do you really think we’ll be able to smash our way through?”

“I don’t know, but it’s worth a try.  I guess we could always go back to the castle and ask Mihnea to return my gauntlet.”

“I’d rather not,” said Magda, reaching for Michael’s torch.  “There’s a really big rock over there against the wall, see if that will work.”

Michael followed her pointing finger.  “What are you, nuts?  That thing’s almost as big as Abigail.”

“All right, I’ll look for something smaller.”  She stooped and picked up a few pebbles.  “How about these?”

He gave her a sour smile.  “Well it’s nice to see your mood’s improved.”  He walked to the large stone, which wasn’t nearly as big as Abigail, and knelt down to pick it up.

“Lift with your legs, not your back,” his sister told him.

“Do you want to come and do this?”

She crossed her arms and smirked while shaking her head.

Michael grabbed the rock with both hands and lifted.  He gritted his teeth and sweat began to bead on his reddening face, but the rock wouldn’t budge.

“Humph,” grunted Magda, placing her hands on her hips.  She raised her eyebrows and examined him doubtfully.

“Don’t look at me in that tone of voice,” he told her, rubbing his back.  “Besides, I don’t think that rock is just sitting on the ground.  Most of it seems to be buried.”

She cocked her head.  “If you say so.”

“Maybe I can knock it down,” the Dragon told them.  Without saying another word, he changed back into a dracorex, and swatted the door with his tail, but didn’t seem to be doing any damage.  He turned around, got some distance, and ran full speed, ramming the doorway with his head.  A dull, cracking thud resounded through the cavern, and the beast staggered back and landed on his rear end before changing back into the old man.  He immediately began to rub the top of his head.  “Ooouuch,” he whimpered.

Michael retrieved a bowling ball sized rock and began to beat it against the door.  He was encouraged to see small pieces begin to fall away, but then realized it was all coming from the stone he was holding.  He cast the rock to the side and wiped his brow.  “Can I borrow one of those daggers of yours?” he asked Magda.

She pulled one out and handed it to him, and he attempted to chisel away at the door.  Sparks began to fly, and after a few moments he examined his work.  Sure enough, the door was unharmed, and only the dagger’s blade had been damaged.  Magda scowled at him accusingly as he handed it back.

“Why don’t you try that fancy little toy light of yours again,” she told him.  “You know, the one that told us we could get out through the window.”

“I find your lack of faith disturbing,” he retorted, pulling it from his pocket to hold out before her.

She pursed her lips and scrunched her nose at him.

Michael held it up toward the door, and a warm blue light spread across the entire cavern.  He stood looking at the door for a moment, hoping to see something that would show them a way in, but he could see nothing unusual.

The old man looked over Michael’s shoulder with an awed face.  “That’s a remarkable trinket, where exactly did you get it?”

“Holy COW,” Abigail shouted.  “Michael, look at her!”

Magda was standing behind them, glowing radiantly with the same blue light from the lantern.  “WOW,” Michael said excitingly.  “Magda, you’re glowing.”

She smirked at him.  “This is no time for your flirting,” she reprimanded.  All three of her companions just stood there and stared at her, and it made her feel very self-conscious.  “What the heck are you people looking at anyway?”

Abigail stepped up and took her hands, lifting them up so she could see for herself.  “No, you don’t understand.  You are literally glowing.”

Magda let out a confused squeak.

The Dragon gazed at her and smiled.  “Young lady,” he said, “you didn’t tell me that you were a Van Helsing.”

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

The Tomb of the DragonSlayer

Magda Van Helsing stood before her companions, glowing with the same blue light that shone from Michael’s lantern.  In fact, it was almost as if she’d become a lantern herself; she was now much brighter than the light in Michael’s hand, and the cave was illuminated as though daylight were coming in.

“How very strange,” the Dragon observed.  “I’ve seen something like this before, but that was a long, long time ago.  Who gave you that soul lantern?”

“Soul lantern?  I haven’t heard it called that before,” Michael told him.  “It was a gift from Puck of the faery realm.  He called it a faery lantern.”

“Ah yes, and so it is.  I find that you and your girls here are amazing me more with each passing minute, young Master Belmont.”

Magda and Abigail both looked like they took umbrage at being called Michael’s girls, so he put an arm around each of them.  “Cheer up, my girls,” he told them. “A seventeen hundred year old man just told you how amazing you are, you don’t get a compliment like that everyday.”

Magda rolled her eyes.  “Great,” she told him.  “So what’s the plan now?  Am I supposed to glow down that door or something?”

The Dragon began to cackle, and Magda couldn’t help but smile back.

“You have spirit, my dear,” he told her.  “I’ll give you that.”

“The lantern isn’t giving you power or anything,” Michael told her.  “It’s just telling us that you’re the way in.”

“I’m the way in.  Okay, great.  So what exactly does that mean?”

“It’s a good thing you’re gorgeous because you can be a little thick,” Michael jested.  “Go on over and see if you can open that door up for us.”

She huffed at him and stooped to pick up a rock.

“Oh you shouldn’t need that,” the Dragon added.  “Just go push it open.”

She rolled her eyes, but walked to the crypt door and lightly gave it a shove.  To her amazement, it swung wide open.  “I can’t believe it,” she mumbled.  “You were right,” she smiled at Michael, throwing her arms around him and nearly knocking him over.

The Dragon leaned over to Abigail.  “She’s kind of a moody girl isn’t she?”

“Look, she’s been through a lot lately, okay?” Abigail snapped.  “Can’t you understand that?”  She humphed at him and stormed into the crypt.

The old man stood there scratching his head.  “Then again, I haven’t met many young girls who weren’t a bit moody.”

Michael and Magda followed him into the crypt.  They walked past a number of empty rock-cut tombs before descending down to an area where the tombs were sealed with rock and mortar.  Some of the tombs were etched with the mark for the Order of the Dragon.  Some bore other symbols, religious markings, and written passages.

Michael watched as the Dragon reverently glanced over each grave they passed. “Did you bury all these people here?”

The old man nodded.  “Many of them, but not all.”  He stopped before a sealed, waist-high tomb with a large iron cross embedded in the rock.  “This was one of the last men I laid to rest here, before I was taken captive by Mihnea.”

Michael read the name etched across the top of the tomb- Abraham Van Helsing.

Magda placed her hands on the seal and her shoulders slumped as she examined the epitaph under the name.  “Why would you bring him here?  It seems like an insult to bury him beneath Dracula’s Castle.”

The old man gently placed his hand on her shoulder.  “This cavern was set aside as holy ground long before my son’s evil corrupted the place.  That castle used to be so magnificent and beautiful.  It was a stronghold of justice and virtue.  I wish you could have seen it in the days of its former glory.”  His eyes went off wandering again.

Michael guessed that a man who’d lived so long must have innumerable memories to shuffle through.

“And now,” the Dragon said with purpose, “we must see to it that the castle is purged of Dracula’s evil once and for all.  Come,” he told Magda, “you have the blood of heroes and kings running through your veins.  We will honor Abraham Van Helsing by continuing his work.”

Magda grinned at the old man, but Michael noticed the confusion on her face as she gave him a nod.  A few moments later she had a renewed determination in her eyes.

They continued their journey into the depths of the cavern, passing many more tombs as they walked.  Michael tried to read every name as they went, but most didn’t mean much to him, until they passed through a section that really caught his attention.  “Abigail, look!  There are Belmonts buried here.”

“Yes,” the Dragon said.  “You are certainly not the first group of young people called upon to confront the forces of evil.  In fact, you’re not even the first members of your house.  Remember that when you feel alone in your struggles.”

Moving on, they came to a place where the passage widened and soon opened up to reveal a dark lake.  It was still, except for the water that drizzled down from the roof above, filling the cave with an endless chorus of drips.

The Dragon pointed off into the darkness.  “We’re nearly there now.  The tomb of Saint George is just across this lake.”

Magda kicked a stone into the water.  “How do we get across?”

The old man scratched his head.  “Well, there used to be a boat here, but I suppose it rotted away and sank long ago.  I guess I’ll just have to swim across.”

“How deep is it?” Michael asked.  “Is it safe?”

“Your guess is as good as mine.”

Michael held his lantern over the water.  The light permeated as far down as he could see, and everything seemed clear and still.  He pointed out the sunken boat a few feet down not far from the shore.

“All right, I’ll come across with you,” Michael told him.

“As you wish,” the old man said, beginning to strip to his underwear.  “But there’s no need for all of us to go.  Girls, we’ll be back in just a few minutes.”

“Alright,” Abigail grumbled while turning around.

“Sounds good to me,” Magda told them.  “Just be careful in there.  I don’t like the look of this.”

Michael tossed his clothes beside his other belongings and followed the Dragon as he stepped into the water.  It was chilling, but not so bad as he’d expected.  Carefully they swam toward the opposite shore, the lantern dangling from Michael’s mouth by its chain.  It didn’t take them long to get there, but when he pulled himself out of the water on the other side, he looked back and saw Abigail and Magda under the light of their torches, and they looked small and uncomfortably far away.

Michael followed the dragon down the small passage that led them away from the lake, which quickly narrowed so much that they had to go single file.  He was shivering, but had to smile as he watched the old man, who was now moving along as spryly as a young boy on sugar.  Following him up the stone steps, Michael actually had to work hard to keep up.

They turned a corner and found themselves in a small cave, where an ancient stone casket rested in the middle of the floor.  The symbol of the Order of the Dragon was etched upon its surface.

“I haven’t been here in centuries,” the old man told him.  “But everything is just as I remember it.”  He placed his hands beneath the lid and lifted.  “Help me with this, won’t you?”

Together they rotated the lid across the top of the casket, and let it rest diagonally across the bottom.  Michael looked down to see the skeletal remains of an armored knight.  So this was all that was left of Saint George the Dragonslayer.  After seeing the world through his eyes, although fleetingly, some small part of Michael felt that he was looking down at his own skeletal body.  He scanned the warrior in awe, looking for whatever the Dragon might have brought them to get.

“It’s gone,” said the old man in disbelief.  “I don’t understand.”

“What’s gone?  What did we come to get?”

“Ascalon,” the Dragon responded.  “The lance of Saint George.  It was the other one of his two mighty weapons.”

“A lance?” Michael asked curiously.  Then he remembered his vision.  Uriel had promised to give George a second weapon, something to help him capture his enemies.  He’d never seen a lance short enough to place inside a coffin though.

Vlad seemed to guess what he was thinking.  “This was no ordinary lance.  It was small and light weight, but would grow longer when the need arose.  That however, was the least of its powers.”

“Well, maybe Alucard came and got it.  Did you ever tell him about this crypt?”

The Dragon shook his head.  “No, I’m afraid there were many things I never got a chance to tell Alucard.  I still had much to share with him before I was taken captive by Mihnea.”

Michael could detect the pain and regret in the man’s voice.  “I’m sorry to hear that,” he said, “but maybe you’ll still get the chance.  Anyway, this lance, you really think it would have helped us against Mihnea?”

“Ascalon was the weapon George used to incapacitate and capture the fallen ones.”

“The fallen ones?”

“That’s what George called them,” nodded the Dragon.  “They were powerful men capable of changing their form like me, but they could change into just about anything they wanted.  Oftentimes they chose regular animals like my dragon-form, but with terrifying abilities.  Some could breathe fire and had impenetrable skin.”

“And once George defeated them he’d bring them back to this castle and imprison them in that portal.” Michael said.

“Yes.  But how do you know so much about it?”

“I’ve been to another portal like the one in this castle.  And I’ve met one of the men you’re speaking of.  He was called Zuriel.  He was trying to gain control of the gateway to free others like him.  We were able to destroy the portal, but Zuriel escaped.”

“I have heard that other portals existed, but I thought all the fallen ones had been defeated long ago.  This is grievous news to me.”  He hung his head down to take another look in the casket.  “I’m sorry to have disturbed him on a fool’s errand.  Who knows how long the lance has been missing.  Perhaps Mihnea is in possession of it as well.”

“What are we going to do now?” Michael asked him.  “I mean, are there any other weapons we could use against him?”

“Perhaps, but the only thing to do now is put distance between ourselves and this castle.  We must come back with strength, and we must do it soon if we are going to help the woman you spoke of.”

The old man looked crestfallen as they returned to the edge of the lake.

“Don’t worry,” Michael told him.  “I’m sure we’ll find a way to stop Mihnea.  My dad has some friends who seem to be experts on the subject.”

The Dragon smiled and gave him a pat on the back.  “You’re right, of course.  There’s always a way, isn’t there.  Even when things look very bleak.”

They slid back into the water and swam back toward the girls, who were eagerly waiting for them on the other side.

Magda waved her torch through the air when she saw them coming.  “How did it go?  Did you find what you were looking—MY GOD, WHAT IS THAT?”

Michael felt something shoot up from the water beneath him.  It struck him in the side and knocked him several feet through the air before he splashed back down into the water.  Abigail’s screaming rang out through the cave as he struggled to regain his bearings.

Rubbing the water from his eyes, it took a moment to focus on the dark being rising up beside him.  The thing had the torso and arms of a man, as oily and black as tar.  It had the head of a gnarled fish, with dead black eyes and dripping spiked teeth.  It was twice the size of a normal man, and in its hand was a long wooden lance.

“Ascalon,” Michael whispered.  This creature was the one who’d taken it.  It began coming toward him, sizing him up as it raised the lance into the air, preparing to strike.  Michael heard a wet, rubbery sound as two of Magda’s throwing daggers bounced from the creature’s hide to splash harmlessly in the water beside him.  He then caught sight of the Dragon treading water on the beast’s other side.

“Hey, monster,” the old man yelled, “tell me who you are and what you’re doing with that weapon.  It doesn’t belong to you.”

To Michael’s relief, the thing turned away.  “I am Dagon,” it said.  Its voice was low and gurgled like someone drowning.  “I am the Lord of the waters beneath this castle, and you will all die for disturbing them.”

“You are a thief and an abomination created by an abomination,” the Dragon told him.  “And you are unworthy to look upon that lance, much less wield it.”

The beast choked out a spongy laugh.  “And you are a decrepit old man, whose bark is bigger than his bite.”

“Michael,” the Dragon called to him, “take the lance and go.  You must get the girls to safety.  Do not wait for me to follow.  Do you understand?”

“Uh, yeah,” Michael stuttered.  Take the lance and go?  How exactly was he supposed to do that?

The fish-man continued to laugh as he returned his attention to Michael.  He seemed to be interested in the lantern, which was still dangling from his mouth and lighting up the chamber.  The strange light almost seemed to be drawing him in as if it were a fishing lure.  The thought would have made him chuckle if he wasn’t so scared.

Out of nowhere, the familiar head of the dracorex came up from behind Dagon and bit down upon his shoulder.  He gurgled out an angry scream as the lance dropped from his hand and splashed down into the water.  For a moment, Michael thought it might sink, and he drew in his breath to dive down after it, but to his relief it bobbed on the surface.  He wasted no time in swimming to retrieve it, but just as his fingers began to clench the handle, Dagon lunged for the weapon and shot beneath the water’s surface, taking it with him.

Michael headed for shore while the sounds of beating, splashing and biting filled the air behind him.

“Give me your hand!” Magda yelled, reaching out to him.  She groaned to pull him up out of the lake.

“Isn’t there something we can do to help him?” Abigail pleaded as the other two pulled her away from the water.

Magda shook her head.  “You saw how those daggers I threw at him just bounced right off.  If he comes after us we might be able to fight him, but he’d easily overpower us in the water.”

“She’s right,” Michael said as they helplessly watched the struggle.  The Dragon seemed to be holding his own fairly well, though Dagon clearly had an advantage in the lake.

Michael eagerly watched for an opportunity to seize the lance, but each time it was about to be thrown to him Dagon snatched it back.  He was amazed that the weapon wasn’t torn to shreds as the two great beasts fought over it, clawing and biting and yanking it between them.

The battle reached a point when Michael was sure that their friend would be lost.  The Dragon looked exhausted, and Dagon cast him against the cavern wall far from where they could offer any help.  The last thing they saw was the old dinosaur latch onto the lance with his teeth and tear it away from Dagon as the two disappeared beneath the water.

For several long minutes they waited on the shore, hungry for any sign that might offer them hope, but no sign came.

“Do you think he’s dead?” Abigail cried, scanning the still lake.

“I hope not,” Michael said, pulling his shirt back on.  “We don’t know where these waterways go, we can only hope the old guy was able to resurface somewhere else.”

“Whether he has or not, we need to get out of here,” Magda urged them, heading back toward the crypt.  “We’ll be no match for that beast if he returns.”

Michael sadly looked over the face of the lake one last time before turning to follow the girls back through the crypt.  He felt unusually cold inside as they passed through the tombs where so many fallen warriors had been laid to rest.  Had Vlad the Dragon now joined them in the dark, eternal sleep of this place?  And what had his sacrifice been for?  Only another broken hope, another failed chance at finding a way to defeat Mihnea.

“So what do we do now?” Magda asked as they arrived at the mouth of the cave.  “It might be smarter to hide out here until the sun comes up than to go back out into the night and get snatched by a vampire.”

“Maybe,” said Michael, “but Dagon could come busting out of that crypt at any moment.  I’d like to get as far away from him as possible.”

“What if he tells Mihnea where we are,” put in Abigail.  “Who’s to say he isn’t one of his servants.”

Michael hadn’t thought of that.  “Abby’s right.  We need to keep moving and get out of here while we can.”

“Alright,” Magda sighed.  “But we’ll have to move quickly and quietly.  We’ll head back up the cliff and back toward the garden, and then cut through the forest and move along the outskirts of the main road leading to the castle.  We need to be ready for anything.”

The only thing Michael was ready for was a good night’s sleep.

The sight of the moon hanging over the ruins of Poenari Castle made a chill run down Liam’s spine.  This place was downright spooky.  Just a few hours before, he’d hiked up to the top with his father and Mr. Belmont, and though they had seen nothing unusual he was still determined to find out for sure if this was the right place- the place where Mihnea had brought Michael and Abigail.

“Well,” his father said as he strode up beside him, “it’s now or never.  Have you got that magical little light of yours?”

Liam nodded.  He didn’t blame his father for being skeptical, after all- he’d never seen one of these things in action.  Liam didn’t know how his faery lantern worked, he just knew that it did- at least when it wanted to.

“It looks like the last of the hikers have left,” Mr. Belmont called to them from the bottom of the hill where they’d parked.  He jogged back up to join them.  “Are you guys ready to head back up there?”

“Yeah,” Liam told them as he started out on the path to the ruins.  He took the lantern from his pocket, and its soft, warm light spread over the forest around them.  The landscape instantly came to life- revealing minute details that not even the daylight had shown.

“That thing is pretty impressive,” his father conceded.  “But what exactly do you think it’s going to show us?”

“I don’t know,” Liam shrugged.  “These things seem to know what you want, and if they can, they help you find it.”

His father skeptically raised an eyebrow.  “All right then, lead the way and let’s find out.”

They crept up the mountain with hopeful hearts and determined faces.  Stars twinkled overhead, and a handful of fires crackled off in the distance, keeping their determined winter campers warm.  It was a beautiful, clear night, and although the lantern’s light shown all around them, Liam saw nothing out of the ordinary.

After a while, they stopped to catch their breath.  Liam took a long drink from his water bottle, and nearly choked when something beside the trail caught his eye.

“What is it?” asked Mr. Belmont, smacking him on the back.

A small shower of water spurted from Liam’s mouth.  “That,” he told them, pointing out a small ball of light, which was zipping chaotically around the hillside.  They watched it bounce back and forth for a few moments before Liam looked up to see what his father was thinking.

The man caught his eyes and smirked before looking back to the ball of light.  “You’ve seen those things too, haven’t you?” he asked his son.  “In the forest across from the Fianna Barrows?”

Liam nodded.  “There were a few around the night that Michael and I went into that faery grove, and I’ve seen them loads of times through my telescope.  Do you think there are faeries around here?”

His father shrugged, and then turned to Mr. Belmont as if to get his opinion.

“Don’t look at me.  You two are the experts on all that faery stuff.”

Declan smirked and nodded his head toward the dancing little light.  “Those things are called Will-o-the-wisps.  They’re supposedly mischievous little spirits who lead foolish travelers off to their demise.”

Liam lowered his gaze and scratched his head to consider it.  “Well, I’m up for that if you are,” he told them.

Mr. Belmont pulled out his gun and chambered a round.  “You really are your father’s son, Liam.  Are you going to lead the way or what?”

Liam stepped out in front and headed toward the wisp.  Just when he got within a dozen or so feet of it the thing zipped ahead of them.  In fact, it moved a little farther away every time they got close.  The ground was rough and the going was slow, and before long they found themselves traipsing along the edge of a steep hillside.  They got to the point where the wisp led them onto a narrow, rocky path that headed back up the mountain toward the ruins.  They climbed cautiously upon the shifting rocks, with Liam’s father calling ahead occasionally to remind him to slow down, and that a turned ankle wouldn’t do them any good at all in a place like this, and that he and Mr. Belmont were not spring chickens and he didn’t want Liam to get too far away from them.

The path eventually evened out in a spot near the top of the mountain, and again the wisp settled, waiting for the others to arrive.  This time when Liam approached, the light stayed put.  He got within a few feet of the thing, and it continued to hang there, hovering around in the same spot.  Liam wasn’t quite sure what to do.

“Well,” he asked the orb, “what happens now?”

The light continued to hover, but it had stopped moving altogether now.  It made no noise and it didn’t budge.

Liam reached out to touch it, and just as his fingers got to it the thing vanished.  He snapped his head in every direction to look for it, but the light was nowhere to be seen.

“That was interesting,” Mr. Belmont said, scanning around for any sign of danger.

For several seconds, none of them saw anything, and then Liam caught a strange glow from the corner of his eye.  He turned and gazed across the mountainside in front of the castle, where dozens, and finally hundreds of small orbs just like the one they’d been following took form scattered across the landscape.  Soon the lights had them completely surrounded.

“What is this?” Liam’s father asked suspiciously.  The man rarely looked this nervous, and that alone made Liam uneasy.

Mr. Belmont dropped to one knee, taking a good look at the scene around them.  “I’ve never seen anything like this before.  It’s kind of pretty really, but I still don’t like the looks of it.”

The orbs slowly began to change.  They grew taller, expanding into misty, man-sized forms, and after just a few moments the hillside stood host to the apparitions of hundreds of people.  Each one of the smoky bodies floated lifelessly upon the pole that had been run through its body.  Every one of them was terrifying and pitiful in its own way, but as much as he tried, Liam couldn’t look away.  His blood ran cold, and he noticed that his whole body was shaking.

“WHAAAA?” he shouted as he felt a hand grab his shoulder and spin him around.  It was only his father.

“Take a look at that,” he said as he pointed up above the top of the mountain.

The translucent form of a castle had appeared, and towered up into the night where before they had only seen ruins.

“I-I knew this had to be the place?” Liam stuttered as he ran his eyes up the spectral citadel.  He could still see the moon and some of the brighter stars fixed in the sky directly behind the walls.

Mr. Belmont shook his head and let out a long breath.  “I’ve never seen anything like it before.  How are we supposed to get inside a place that isn’t really there?”

Liam’s father wiped his brow.  “Well, all three of us have been up to those ruins and I didn’t run into any castle walls.”  Maybe the whole thing is just some kind of residual haunting.  Maybe this isn’t the right place after all.”

“I know this is the place,” Liam demanded.  “Mikey and Abby are in that castle.  We just need to figure out a way to get ourselves in there.”

Just then, the small orb reappeared out of nowhere and flew up right in front of Liam’s face, as if it were looking him in the eye.  The movement stunned him and he staggered backward, nearly losing his footing on the edge of the cliff.

After hovering there for a moment, the wisp sped down without warning and entered the faery lantern.  The spectral bodies of the impaled villagers began changing back into orbs, and one by one they came flying toward him to disappear into the lantern.  With each orb that entered, the light became a little brighter, until finally all the orbs had entered and Liam and the two men beside him had to cover their eyes.

The lantern had also grown scolding hot.  It had happened so quickly that Liam hadn’t noticed until his hands were burning.  “YOUCH,” he screamed, tossing it from one hand to the other before letting it drop to the rocks at his feet.  He winced as he heard a sound not unlike shattering glass.  There was an explosion of light, and a whirlwind of stardust rose from the broken relic to sweep around him several times before shooting off into the sky ahead.  The stream of tiny specks swept down toward the earth once more before turning sharply up, and like some ethereal tidal blade, cut a hole in the dark night air on the path before them, finally showering down to form a ghostly arched doorway in the air.

Mr. Belmont rushed up to look through the passage.  “I can see the castle on the other side,” he told them.  “The walls are solid.  I don’t know what you did Liam, but it worked.”

“I didn’t do anything,” Liam gulped.  He looked at the broken remains of his lantern, lamenting its loss.  If it helped them find Mikey and Abby though, it was worth it.

“Well, we better get moving before that thing…shoots off or, or disintegrates or something,” Liam’s father said as he waved his son on.

Michael picked his pack up off the ground and slung it across his shoulder.  “Well, that was an interesting little light show.”

“What do you think it was?” Abigail asked.

“I’ve never seen anything like it,” Magda said, resting her hand on the girl's shoulder.  “I only wish we’d been closer to see things a bit better.”

“We need to get down there right now,” Michael told them.

Magda shifted her legs uncomfortably.  “Are you sure that’s a good idea?  We don’t know what all that was, but I’m sure we’re not the only ones who saw it.”

“That was faery light!  I’m sure of it.  Liam could be down there, and even if he isn’t, there might be someone who could help us, or possibly needs our help.”

“Michael, we need to be heading away from this castle as fast as we can right now, not heading into a place that’s going to get us caught again,” Magda argued.

“You’re going to have to trust me on this one,” Michael insisted as he began down the hillside toward the spot where they’d seen the lights.  He looked up to see the two girls standing firm and glaring at him.  “Fine, you two stay put and I’ll be back as soon as I can to pick you up.  Don’t go anywhere, alright?”

Magda sighed and the two began to follow him down the mountain.  I knew that would do the trick, Michael laughed inside his head.

“Do you really think Liam could be down there?” Abigail asked.  Do you think Dad and everyone else came with him?”

“Well he couldn’t have gotten here by himself.  Listen, Magda had a point about other people seeing those lights.  We need to move quick, just watch your step on these rocks.”

A few minutes later they were nearly there.  Abigail pointed out three figures coming up the mountain toward them, and Michael led them behind a large boulder off the side of the path.

“Hey, it’s Dad and Liam and Mr. MacDonald,” Abigail whispered excitedly.  “Let’s jump out and scare them.”

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” came a voice from the darkness.  “Not unless you feel like getting shot tonight.”

“Caleb!” Abigail proclaimed as he stepped out into the moonlight.  He stood with his arms crossed and peered down at them sternly.

Michael breathed a sigh of relief.  “Oh, it’s just you.  I really wish you’d stop doing that,” he told him.  “Or at least teach me how to do it too.”

“Look,” Abigail said with a point of her finger, “they’ve stopped coming and moved off the path.  “They must’ve heard us.

“This should do the trick,” Michael said while taking the lantern out of his pocket and stepping into the path.  “Please don’t shoot me,” he said softly through clenched teeth.

“Michael,” the familiar voice of Liam called out to him.  A few moments later he was standing there in front of them.  “Michael, you’re all right!  And Abby and Caleb too.  How have you guys managed to…Well, hello there, gorgeous, what have we here?” he said, smiling stupidly at Magda.

She scrunched up her nose and looked him over doubtfully.  “Michael, who is this boy?” she asked him.  “And why doesn’t he comb his hair?”

Michael chuckled as Liam’s hands shot to his head.  He frowned and ran his fingers through his hair.

“It’s been a hard night, alright,” he complained.  “We’ve been traipsing around this mountain for the last ten hours looking for you.”

Abigail jumped into her father’s arms as he and Mr. MacDonald walked up.

“Thank God the three of you are alright.  We’ve been worried sick, and your mother has been fit to be tied.  Magda, are you alright, sweetheart?”

“I’m fine, thanks.  But how’s Olaf doing?  Has there been any change?”

“Well, he’s still in a coma, but the doctors say he’s stable.  He’s safe from attack though.  There aren’t many places safer than McGinty Castle.”

“Thank you,” she told him as a tear dropped down from her eye.  “And you too,” she said to Mr. MacDonald.  “I appreciate you taking care of him, especially after what he did.”

“Don’t mention it, dear.  It’s the least I can do.  And don’t give up on your brother just yet, maybe he’ll learn from all this in the end.”

Magda smiled hopefully.  “Perhaps.  Olaf isn’t a bad person, but he’s been so full of rage lately.  I just hope he gets better soon.”

Mr. MacDonald picked the girl off her feet and squeezed her into a bear hug.  Her eyes grew wide and she looked at Michael in shock, but he grinned reassuringly and she eased into hugging him back.  To know Mr. MacDonald meant getting hugged a lot.  Magda was just going to have to get used to it.

Michael’s father shook Caleb’s hand.  “When did you get here?  And more importantly, how did you get here?”

“I followed you in, actually.  I was right on your tail when those orbs appeared and the portal opened up, but I thought it might be best to stay out of sight in case you came under attack.  That way I could get the jump on the enemy.”

Abigail looked at him admiringly, and Michael rolled his eyes at her.

“Dad, what happened at the orphanage after we left?  Was anyone else hurt?”

“Well, a few of the kids were injured, but everyone lived through it.  Ms. Voss is pretty shaken up, but she’ll recover.”

Michael was relieved, but thinking about what happened made him angry.  If he had anything to do with it, Mihnea was going to pay for hurting Ms. Voss and those kids, and for what he’d done to Magda and her family.

“Daddy, you’ll never guess who we met in the castle,” Abigail told him.  “It was the Dragon, a man that Dorothy Stoker told me about.  He was trying to help us retrieve the Lance of Saint George.  But then he got taken under the water.”

Her father raised an eyebrow.  “You wouldn’t care to explain that would you?”

Michael filled them in on everything that had happened.

“So you actually met the Dragon?  The Dragon?  The man who originally formed the Order of the Dragon?” his father asked.  Michael had never seen such a look of fascination, and what was something a bit like fear, in the man’s eyes.

“He’s really nice,” Michael assured him.  “If that fish-face Dagon didn’t kill him I’m sure you’ll enjoy meeting him.”

His father grinned.  “I’ve heard stories and legends about that man ever since I was a kid.  And now to find out that he’s still alive- and that he’s the father of Dracula…I’m just having a hard time digesting it all.”

“It sounds like a bunch of nonsense to me,” Caleb said.  “No offense to the three of you, but it could all have been one of Mihnea’s illusions.  If there’s one thing that guy does well, it’s manipulate people.”

“Believe what you want,” Michael told him with a frown, “we know what happened.”  He looked at his father.  “Now are we going to get in there and rescue Elizabeth or what?”

“No, we aren’t.  You kids are going to head back to the car and call Finnegan.  He’ll arrange to have you picked up.  It shouldn’t take long, he has someone on standby.”

“WHAT?” protested Michael.  “But why?  We could help you rescue Elizabeth.  You need us!”

“Michael, I don’t want to argue about this right now.  Declan, Caleb and I will take care of Elizabeth, and we’ll be able to focus on doing that much easier if we know the four of you are safe.”

“But…”

“NO!  One more word about it and I’m going to see if your butt wears a size twelve boot, you got me?”

Michael glared at him sullenly.

“We’ll take care of Elizabeth.  You and Liam need to keep the girls safe until someone comes to pick you up.  Stay in the car.  There’s a loaded 9-millimeter in the glove compartment.  Don’t even touch the thing unless you have to, it’s not a toy.  Here’s the key.”

“What good’s a gun going to do against vampires?”  Magda asked.

Mr. MacDonald grinned.  “The bullets are silver, they’ve been dipped in holy water and garlic, and they’ve got crosses etched on them.”

“Interesting,” Caleb said.  “Have you had a chance to try them yet?”

“Oh yeah, they work like a charm,” Declan said.  “Dorothy Stoker gave us the idea.  We’ve got plenty of them with us if you want to give them a try.”

Caleb placed his hand on the hilt of his sword.  “Thanks, but guns aren’t really my style.  They’re a bit noisy for my taste.”

“Alright, we need to get going,” Michael’s father said.  “The four of you get to the car as quick as you can, but keep out of sight and keep your eyes open.  Declan and I will head toward the castle and make enough noise to draw any attention away from you kids.  Caleb, you follow us and stay out of sight like you were doing before.  Now listen, Michael, if you can’t get reception at the car then drive down the road only as far as it takes to pick up a signal, okay?”

“Alright,” he agreed reluctantly.  “But please be careful.  You don’t have any idea what kind of things are creeping around up there.”

Michael’s father gave him a nod.  “Don’t worry, son, we know what we’re getting ourselves into, and we’re ready.  Now get going, and keep your eyes open.”

They all said goodbye and Michael held his sister close as they watched their father and the other men head up the trail.  “Don’t worry, Abby.  They’ll be okay.  They’re going to save Elizabeth, and hopefully Alucard too.”

She sadly turned without saying a word, and Magda and the two boys followed her down the hill.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

A Wedding or Four Funerals

When they reached the car, Michael unlocked the door and picked up the cell phone he found in the center console.  He wanted to call his father to see if they’d made it to the castle yet.  He looked at the phone and saw two bars, so he leaned against the car and began to dial.

Before he could finish the number, a black figure dropped from the sky and snatched the phone right out of his hand.  Michael gasped and then gritted his teeth angrily as he realized who it was.

Mihnea looked at the phone for a moment before crushing it in his hand as easily as he would a cracker, letting the shattered pieces fall to the ground at Michael’s feet.  “You won’t be needing that.  You’ll be speaking to your father in person soon enough.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Michael growled as he curled up his fist and took a swing.

Mihnea saw the punch coming and easily stepped out of the way, catching his attacker by the arm.  Twirling him around and grabbing his shoulder, he slammed Michael’s face down into the car so hard that a large dent spread across the hood.  Pain erupted through his face as Mihnea pulled him back up to his feet and let go.  Michael stumbled backward and fell to the ground.

“I didn’t come down here to fight babies,” Mihnea said with a chuckle as he swept Magda’s dagger aside with his hand.  He backhanded her, and she crashed against the car, shattering the driver’s side window before collapsing in a heap.

He swept his long, black coat to the side to pull a comb from his pocket, and then he reached down and ripped the side mirror off the car door.

“You haven’t given me a very warm reception, but I’m willing to look past it,” he said while inspecting himself in the mirror and running the comb through his hair.  Michael watched helplessly as he stepped over Magda’s body and knelt down beside Abigail.

“Abby, I’ve come to invite you to a wedding.  You like weddings don’t you?”

For a moment Abigail glared at him, her heart pounding and her chest heaving, but as she looked in his eyes, she seemed to calm down.

“I’ve come to tell you that Elizabeth wants you to be the bride’s maid at our wedding.  We haven’t been able to reach your mother, so she wants you to do it.  Doesn’t that sound nice?”

“Leave her alone,” Michael warned him feebly as he checked Magda’s pulse.  She was alive, but unconscious.

A broad smile spread across Abigail’s face as she beamed up at Mihnea.

“I love weddings.  Elizabeth really wants me to be her bride’s maid?  Me?”

“That’s right.  And she wants all of you to be there for the wedding,” he said, turning around and offering Michael a hand up.

Michael pushed himself to his feet.  “What are you, stupid?  Your little mind tricks won’t work on me.  I see you for the evil piece of garbage you really are.”

Mihnea’s face flashed with anger, but it was soon replaced with his regular charming smile.  “Alright, then I’ll make you a deal.  Come to the wedding and afterward I’ll let you and all your friends leave in peace.  If not, then you’ll all be leaving in pieces.  That is if you leave at all.”

Michael’s head was swimming.  What was all this about?  Why did Mihnea want them there for his farcical wedding anyway?  He was tricking Elizabeth into marrying him; it wasn’t as if he cared about pleasing her.  But then Michael realized something.  Yes, that had to be it.  By having Elizabeth’s friends at the wedding he could maintain his illusion better, it would all seem more real to her.  But how did Mihnea plan to control everyone?  The vampire’s Jedi mind tricks didn’t work on him, or his father.  He had to have something else planned for them.

“There won’t be any wedding,” Michael shot at him.  “My dad’s going to kill you before that happens.”

Mihnea chuckled.  “We’ll see about that.  In the meantime, I have a gift for you.  A sign of my goodwill.”  He swept his cloak aside, revealing the Sword of Van Helsing hanging at his side.  He pulled it from its leather scabbard and drove it up to the hilt through the door of the car, so that it looked like the sword in the stone.  “I hope your father insured this car,” he laughed.

Mihnea stood looking at him with his hands on his hips, the same way he’d seen Alucard do it.  There was a resemblance, that was for sure.  But how was it that two brothers could be so different.  Alucard had been cursed by his circumstances as well as his appearance, but he was a better man than this one by far.

“Get away from them,” came Liam’s voice from the other side of the car.  He had managed to get the gun from the glove compartment, and was pointing it at Mihnea’s chest, but couldn't get a shot off without endangering his friends.

The vampire looked at Liam seriously for a moment before snorting out a laugh.  “I have to hand it to you kids, you’re nothing if not entertaining.  What do you think that thing’s going to do to me anyway?”

“Oh, you might be surprised if you really want to find out,” Liam said happily.  “You see, these bullets are a special order.  Made for creatures just like you.  Now get away from my friends and leave us alone.”

“I can do that,” Mihnea told him with an angry grin, “but I’m going to need some assurances first.”  With unnatural speed, he swept up Abigail and carried her into the trees, disappearing in a swirl of black mist.

“NO,” Michael and Liam shouted together as he went.

Michael pulled his lantern out and held it up toward the woods.  Panic gripped him as he waved it around, searching for any sign of them.  Rattling came from the tops of several trees, as if Mihnea were moving around between them, and then things went quiet.

“WHERE ARE THEY?” Michael yelled.  He ran furiously along beneath the trees until a very peculiar noise caught his ears.  A horrible, growling screech rang out into the night, mingled with a shriek of pain.

“ABIGAIL,” Michael screamed.

The black swirling form came back down and reformed into Mihnea, who glared at them hatefully with his terrible red eyes.  Blood streaked from a row of scratch marks that ran down the left side of his face, from his temple to his chin.

Liam raised the gun threateningly.

“You’ll have to come now,” Mihnea told them.  “If you care about that thing you call your sister.”

Liam pulled the trigger, but Mihnea anticipated the bullet and leapt away, changing into a wolf and bounding off as Liam shot after him.

“STOP,” Michael yelled after he fired several rounds.  “He’s too far away now, you’re just wasting ammo.”

Liam’s whole body was shaking in anger as he lowered the gun.

“ABBY,” Michael shouted again.

“Wait,” Liam told him, putting his hand across his friend’s chest.  “Listen.”

They stood silently for a moment.  Michael did hear something; a scratching sound coming from the top of one of the tallest trees.

Liam raised the gun up again as they watched a small cougar come staggering down the trunk.  When it neared the bottom, it leapt to the ground, stumbling and falling over.  It got up and tottered a few more steps toward them before face planting into the ground and collapsing on its side.

They walked to the cat, and Michael looked down in awe as it changed back into the familiar form of his little sister.  He stooped down and rolled her onto her back.

“Oh NO!”

“What is it?” Liam asked, kneeling beside him.

“She’s been bit.”  He pointed to the marks on her neck.

She strained to open her eyes, and looked at them in confusion.  Blood was smeared around her mouth.

“Well it looks like she bit him back.  Good for you, Abby,” Liam told her.

“No, it’s not good,” Michael said.  “It’s not good at all.”

“Oh no, you’re right.”  Anger flooded over Liam’s face.  “Now we have to go and kill him don’t we, or she’ll change into one of them.”

Michael and Liam returned to the car carrying Abigail.

“We need to get that sword out of the door,” Michael told Liam.  “But I don’t want to touch it, not until we’re someplace safe and private.  It might give me another vision.”

They wrapped the handle with a shirt and yanked on the thing as it slowly worked its way free.  After finally managing to pull it from the door, Michael wrapped it up and placed it safely with his gear.  He and Liam gently placed Magda in the back seat and helped Abigail into the front passenger seat, and then they took turns guarding the car while the girls slept.  Michael went first, and occasionally he could hear rustling and walking out in the trees, or catch a pair of yellow eyes glistening back at him in the moonlight.

“Mihnea has no intention of letting us out of here,” Michael told Liam as he woke him up to take his shift.  “Something or someone is out there in the trees keeping an eye on us.”

Liam frowned and nodded as Michael handed over the pistol.

Michael was able to get a few hours sleep, and when he woke was relieved to see that the sun had come up, even though it woke him.  He was exhausted, but knew he’d never be able to get back to sleep, so he got up and helped Liam gather up some things for a quick breakfast.  His father had left a stash of snack food in the trunk, so they ate and repacked their supplies for the hike back to the castle.

Both girls woke up as Michael closed the trunk, which was quite a relief to him considering everything they’d gone through that night.

“How are you guys doing?” he asked them.

“Got quite a headache,” Magda said softly, rubbing the back of her neck.

“Me too,” said Abigail.  “And these stupid bite marks burn.”

Michael nodded.  “Mine did too when I got bit.”

Magda sat up and gently moved Abigail’s head to examine her neck.  “Oh no, he bit you?  He didn’t feed you his own blood, did he?”

“He didn’t get the chance to.  I bit the jerk back.”

“You did WHAT?”

“Yeah,” Michael chuckled nervously.  “She scratched him across the face too.  He didn’t look to happy when he came down out of that tree, blood streaming down his face.”

“You’re really something else, Abigail,” Magda said weakly, but with a grin.  “But why didn’t the wounds heal right away?  Those wounds should have closed within seconds.”

“Well the bite did, but my claws, uhm, I mean fingernails were painted with silver nail-polish.  It was something Mrs. Stoker showed me.  Works great for werewolves, and vampires too.”

“Are you having any unusual cravings?” Michael asked her, holding his lantern up to her eyes.  “I mean, you don’t want to drink any of us do you?”

“Well, I am a bit thirsty now that you mention it.  Can I have some of that water?” she said to Liam, who was guzzling from a bottle he’d just pulled from the trunk.

Liam nodded and held it out to her, but Magda smacked it out of his hand before she could take it.

“HEY,” Liam spat at her, “Why’d you—”

“That’s holy-water.  For all we know it could kill her.”

“Oh,” Liam said, giving Abby a guilty grin.  “Sorry about that.  I think I saw some sodas in there too.  I’ll go get one for you.  You don’t think they’re holy-sodas do you?” he asked Magda, sticking his tongue at her while getting out of the car.

“Liam has a way with women,” Michael told her.

“Oh really?” Abigail asked.  “You think so, huh?”

“I didn’t say it was a good way,” Michael told them.  “I just said it was a way.”

The girls both laughed.  That was a good sign, thought Michael.

They gathered their things and headed back up the mountain.

“Are we even going to be able to get back in there?” Liam asked.

“What do you mean?” Michael retorted.

Liam explained how the castle had been hidden, and what they had gone through to find it.

“So you lost your lantern?  That’s too bad,” Abigail told him.

“Nah,” Liam said.  “It was worth it to find you guys.”

Liam flinched as Abigail threw her arms around him and kissed him on the cheek.  Most of the time when Abigail touched him there was quite a lot of pain involved, so a kiss was a welcome change.  He gave her a pat on the head.

To Michael’s relief, the castle towers could soon be seen through the dense roof of the forest.  He pointed it out to Liam.

“I guess the spell’s broken for us since we’ve already seen through it,” Liam shrugged.

“Perhaps,” Magda told him.  “But this time Mihnea wants us to find our way in.”

As they got close to the castle, a group of four hikers came striding up the trail and passed them.

“Good morning,” Liam called enthusiastically.  They just ignored him and went on their way.  “Stuck up prigs,” he mumbled after them.

A short time later a young couple passed by, and the same thing happened.  Again Liam said hello and again he was ignored.

“Strange,” Magda observed.  “Do you know what this means?”

“Two things,” grumbled Abigail as she wiped the sweat from her brow.  “First, that nobody likes Liam.  And secondly, that we all need to get in better shape.”

“It means that they can’t see us.  Whatever illusion Mihnea has spread over this castle is now hiding us as well.”

Michael noticed that his sister was looking pale, and decided to feel her forehead.  It was cold and clammy.

“I think it’s time for a break,” he told the others.

They found a good spot to sit down, and watched as hikers explored what they thought were the ruins of the castle.  They would disappear and reappear through the lower walls, unaware of the massive structure that was reaching up into the sky above them.

“That’s one of the weirdest things I’ve ever seen,” Liam commented.

“Yes,” Magda agreed.  “Whatever kind of magic has been used upon this place is powerful.  I wonder if it was Mihnea or his father who performed this devilry?”

Michael examined his sister’s neck.  The wound felt hot, but her face felt colder and looked whiter with each passing minute.  “Perhaps you’ll get a chance to ask him before we kill him.”

“Maybe we need to get her out of the sunlight,” Liam suggested.  “I mean, sunlight is supposed to be harmful to them right?  That’s what Alucard told me.”

Abigail gave him an angry frown.  “I’m…I’m not a, a stupid vamp…” she mumbled.

“He may have a point,” Magda told Michael.  “She might feel better once we get her inside the castle.”

Michael reached down and began to pull her up.  “All right, Abby, on your feet.  Liam, help me with her.”

“Do we have to go back in there?” she protested as her eyes teared up.

“I don’t think we have any other choice,” Michael told her.  “Besides, Mihnea has seen to it that we can’t leave.  He isn’t going to let us walk out of here.”

Magda glared contemptuously at the castle.  “Don’t worry, Abby, we’ll find a way to beat him at his own game.  It’s the only way to set things right; for my family and for yours.”

They dragged a reluctant Abigail along the rest of the path until finally reaching the large wooden doors of the castle.  Two large gargoyle knockers guarded the doors.  Their grotesque faces laughed mockingly at anyone foolish enough to seek entrance.

“So what do we do now?” Liam asked.  “Just knock and wait for someone to open up?  I’m sure our fathers and Caleb found another way to sneak in.”

“I think it’s safe to say we’re expected,” Michael told him.  “And you know we’re being watched.  Sneaking in wouldn’t do any good, even if we found a way.”

Liam folded his arms in front of his chest.  “All right then.  You do the honors.  If some kind of beast answers the door it can chew on you whilst I run for the hills.”

“I appreciate that.  Well, here goes nothing,” Michael sighed, reaching up and giving the door three hard knocks.  A few moments later they swung open, and there stood Elizabeth with a blissful smile, her arms clasped around the waist of a smirking Mihnea.

Elizabeth had never looked more beautiful.  In fact, she looked just like a princess from one of Abigail’s Disney movies.  Her dark hair was tied up in a bun behind her head, and her long, elegant green dress hovered a few inches off the floor as if it were floating.

Mihnea was dressed in a charcoal colored suit.  His hair was slicked back and the scratches Abigail had given him were now closed in a series of noticeable scars across his face.  He wore dark sunglasses, but still looked as though he were squinting from the light flooding in from the open door.

Michael wondered if he could yank Mihnea outside where he’d be weakened by the sunlight, and run him through with the sword.  Just then Elizabeth pulled him and Abigail into a hug and kissed them both on the forehead, and then kissed Liam as well.  She gave Magda a long, warm smile, but didn’t say anything to her as Mihnea closed the door behind them.

“I’m so glad the four of you could make it,” Elizabeth squealed.  “You’re going to have the best time while staying here!  Isn’t this place beautiful?”

Michael looked around the dusty old reception hall.  Sure the place might look beautiful- to a spider or a rat.  This room was just as decrepit as the parts of the castle they’d already seen.  Michael knew that if Elizabeth were in her right mind, a drab, dusty place like this would have driven her into a cleaning frenzy.

“Well I’m afraid we have a bit of a problem to discuss, don’t we?” she said through pouty lips, placing her hands on her hips.  “I didn’t think you were going to be here Rachel, so I had Mihnea ask Abby to be my maid of honor.  He said she was so excited about it!  You don’t mind do you?”

“Are you talking to me?” Magda asked, looking over her shoulder to see if someone was standing behind her.

“It’s just that ever since we were little girls the plan was for you to do it, but I was thinking, why can’t I have two bride’s maids?  It’s my wedding after all, and Mihnea says I can do it however I want to.”

Mihnea placed his hand around the back of Elizabeth’s slender neck and gave it a loving squeeze.  It was then that Michael noticed the small fang marks, just like the ones Abigail had.  He knew that Mihnea didn’t plan on turning her into a vampire just yet, he wanted a dhampir child first, but maybe the bite made her easier to control.  Mihnea smiled at him threateningly.

“She thinks you’re our mother,” he whispered to Magda.  “Just play along for now.  We don’t know what he’ll do if we don’t.”

“Uh, sure,” Magda told Elizabeth with a frown.  “Two bride’s maids.  Sounds good to me.”

Abigail squeezed Magda’s hand.  “Thanks, Mom,” she said excitedly.  “We can even wear matching dresses.”

“Oh brother,” Liam mumbled.  “This keeps getting worse and worse.”

Mihnea eyed him evilly.

“Uhm,” he cleared his throat.  “What I meant to say was, er…I can’t wait to hear you both recite the wedding vows verse by verse.”

“Just shut it,” Michael told him nervously.

“We have so much to talk about,” Elizabeth said to Magda and Abigail, taking them by the hands and dragging them away excitedly.

Michael glared up at Mihnea, trying somewhat unsuccessfully to hide his disdain.  “So what do you plan to do with all of us, once this little wedding of yours is over?”

“That depends on how you behave yourselves.  If you cooperate, then I’ll consider making you and your friend here members of my family, just as I have your sister.  If you choose not to behave, be sure there are any number of creatures in my service that would like nothing more than to have you for dinner.”

Michael noticed Mihnea take a glance at the sword of Van Helsing, which was hanging across his back.

“Why’d you give this back to me?” he asked.

“Turns out I have no need for it, not just yet anyway.  If the day comes that I desire it again, then I’ll take it from you once more, just as easily as I took it the first time.”

You haven’t given it to me at all, Michael thought.  He was now in Mihnea’s possession, which meant the sword was as well, but why would Mihnea be willing to let him carry it around?  He liked to antagonize and confuse his enemies, but there had to be more to it than that.  Maybe he knows about my visions.  Maybe he’s hoping I’ll see something that he can torture out of me.

“Where’s Alucard?” Michael blurted out boldly.

Mihnea smirked at him.  “That traitor is safe for now, I assure you.  Not that it’s any of your business.  You are a very curious and stubborn little brat, aren’t you Michael?  Just keep in mind that the only thing curiosity will do for you here is get you killed.  Your fathers and their friend will discover that soon enough.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Liam demanded nervously.

“Stupid boy.  There are a thousand nightmares in this castle, all of them hungry, all of them waiting for a chance to hunt.  How long do you really think they’ll last?”

“Long enough to feed you your own rotten teeth!” Liam retorted.

Mihnea laughed.  “We’ll see about that.  Now come, there is much to do.  I must get this wedding over with so that my bride can bear me sons.  We must show them to their rooms, my dear,” he called to Elizabeth.  “There are still plans to be made.”

She trotted back to him like a loyal dog and wrapped her arm around his.  “You’re right,” she said happily.  “There’s still so much to do.  We can visit again later once all of you get settled in and rested.  We have a special dinner planned tonight, don’t we my love,” she said with a squeeze of her groom’s arm.

“Oh yes, my heart.  It’s going to be lovely.”

Abigail skipped off after them without a care in the world.  Liam had been right after all, she was now looking much better, but whatever spell had been used on Elizabeth now seemed to have Abigail captured too.

“I wonder what he’s planning on serving us,” Michael whispered to Magda and Liam.  “Roasted puppies and Kentucky fried kittens?”

The four children followed Mihnea and Elizabeth as they led them through the corridors of the castle toward their quarters.  The path was lit primarily by torches, and the windows had been blocked off to stop any sunlight from coming through.

Rats scurried out of their way, and spider webs were brushed aside as they walked.  Michael stepped on what he thought were dried wolf droppings in the middle of one hallway, and the entire place stunk.  It was earthy and damp, and more than once he caught the smell of urine.  There were other odors even more suspicious and disgusting that he couldn’t quite place.

When they got to the guest wing however, Michael was relieved to see that it was cleaner and more welcoming than what they’d come through to get there.

Mihnea seemed to read his expression.  “Renovations take time,” he said, “and my attention has recently been focused elsewhere.  But now that I have a lovely bride to consider, I’ll soon be restoring the entire castle to the loveliness and majesty of its former days.”

“He’s really something else, isn’t he?” Elizabeth said to them, laughing.  “I’ve never seen a place more lovely, but he keeps talking about renovations.”

“Yeah, he’s something else,” Michael agreed, “that’s for sure.”  If she could only see what they’d seen along the way she’d be running for the shower.

“Mommy, I want to see Aunt Liz’s chamber,” Abigail burst out excitedly.  “I’m sure it’s the most beautiful room in the castle.”

“We don’t have time for that now,” Mihnea told her with a frown.  “Perhaps after dinner.”

“All right,” Abigail said, hanging her head disappointedly.  “I know there’s more important things to do right now.  I’m sorry.”

Elizabeth looked at her sadly.  “Why don’t I just show her really quick.  It’ll only take a few minutes,” she said, pecking Mihnea on the cheek.

“Fine,” he told her with a hint of frustration.  “But please do it quickly, and then bring her straight back to her room.”

Elizabeth nodded.  “Hey Rachel, do you want to come too?” she asked Magda.

Mihnea warned her against it with a discreet shake of his head.

“Uhm, thanks but not right now,” Magda stumbled.  “I’d like to unpack first.”

“Okay.  Be back in a few minutes,” Elizabeth said as she scurried off down the hall with Abigail.

Once they were gone Mihnea looked at them sternly.  “I strongly warn each of you not to wander from this guest wing, you will not be safe in any other part of the castle.”

Michael nodded.  Despite his warning, Mihnea grinned back in a way that almost dared him to try and escape.  Michael was sure they’d be locked in and placed under guard anyway.

“So when exactly is the wedding?” Michael asked politely.

“Tomorrow night.  Do you three think you can behave yourselves until then?”

None of them answered.

“I always repay people back ten-fold for the way they treat me.  I advise you all to keep this in mind; it goes for my friends as well as my enemies.”

He unlocked the door of a nearby room.  “Magda, this one’s yours, in you go.”

She looked like she wanted to attack him, but Michael shook his head at her.  He threw his arms around her and whispered into her ear, “Now’s not the time.  Trust me.”

“I do,” she whispered back, and quickly kissed his cheek before Mihnea grabbed her by the shoulder and shoved her into the room.  He locked the door behind her.

“This one’s for you,” he told Liam while crossing the hall.  He opened a door and Liam disappeared into the room with a curt wave.  “I hope there’s a bathroom in here,” he called out before the door slammed shut.

“And finally, for you,” he told Michael, opening the door next to Liam’s.  He walked into the large room and turned to face his captor, crossing his arms and staring into Mihnea’s eyes.  “Thanks for the hospitality,” he said sarcastically.

“Whatever you do, don’t look under the bed,” Mihnea sneered and closed the door.  A moment later Michael heard the lock click.

He turned to examine the place, which was dimly lit by candles even though he could see a window covered up on the opposite wall.  A canopy bed was centered in the middle of the room, and a suit of armor stood guard in the corner to his left.

Michael pulled out his lantern and it lit up the room.  He walked slowly around, scanning the place for anything unusual or a possible route of escape.  He even stooped to look under the bed, knowing that he’d keep hearing Mihnea’s voice in the back of his head until he’d done so.  There was nothing under there except for a mouse skeleton and a whole lot of dust.  After giving the room a thorough examination and finding nothing, he put the lantern away and pulled down the black material covering the window.  Mid-morning light flooded the room, and he looked out north over the snow-covered Fagaras Mountains.

Surprisingly, the window opened when he pushed on it, allowing a cold wind to blow in over his face.  He picked up the Sword of Van Helsing and hopped up onto the bed, causing a small poof of dust to spread out around him.  Once it cleared he lay back onto his pillow and unwrapped the sword, then grasped it by the hilt.  Everything faded to black.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

George and the Dragon

Michael found himself walking along a dark corridor.  It soon came to a door, which he found himself opening, and then he walked out onto the parapet wall of the castle.  He noticed the snow-capped mountains off to his left, the same mountains he’d seen out the window only a few moments before.  The sky was rather dark, and he knew he must be facing east, which meant the sun had just gone down behind him.  He lifted the sword up before his eyes to examine it more closely, and recognized the man staring back at him from the reflection in the blade.  It was Mihnea.

He noticed the maniacal smile spread across the vampire’s face before twirling the sword through the air and swinging in fancifully down at his side.

Mihnea looked up to see a dark figure leaning against the wall of the tower in front of him.  “Well, look who decided to finally show up,” Mihnea said.  “You could have helped me get ahold of this thing.  After all, opening up that portal is in our mutual interest.”

“You look like you did alright without my help,” the man answered.  “Was the information I provided helpful?”

“Your sources were correct.  Mark Belmont had the sword all along.  It took me a while to procure it, but here it is.”

“And the Van Helsing boy?”

“I’m sure the Belmonts are headed for him even as we speak, and I’m having them watched.  Once we determine his location I’ll pick him up personally, and bring him back here to open up the portal.”

The man pushed himself off the tower wall and stepped out into the light.  Michael felt anger explode within him as he saw the man’s face.  ZURIEL, he yelled within his head, but Mihnea said nothing.

“Good,” Zuriel nodded.  “But be careful, the Van Helsings and the Belmonts might try to destroy that gateway if they learn what it is.  In fact, they may already know.  Be sure to bring the Van Helsing boy under your control as soon as possible.  Turn him into a vampire or werewolf, and then he might even help you willingly.  As for the Belmonts, kill them all as soon as you can, they’re nothing but trouble, and their family has a long history with this castle.”

“Yes, I remember my father speaking about the Belmonts as powerful adversaries.  I find it interesting that a Belmont was able to obtain the sword from its hiding place so easily.  I’d been searching for it to no avail for a century.”  I’ll take care of them once they’ve played their parts,” Mihnea told him.  “In the meantime, I have need of them.”

Zuriel frowned.  “Ah yes, this wedding of yours.  Why go to so much trouble?  Why not just force this woman to give you children if that’s what you want.”

Mihnea shook his head.  “An illegitimate child cannot be used for the ritual.  Once Elizabeth has become my wife, the Belmonts will all be turned or destroyed.”

“As you wish, but I still don’t think that keeping them around is a good idea.  Don’t underestimate any of them, especially the boy.”  Zuriel sneered as if he were remembering something that put a very bad taste in his mouth.

“Belmonts have always had a knack for unlocking the mysteries of this castle.  Perhaps I can use that to my advantage.  Use them to uncover some things that are hidden even to me.”

“You are an ambitious man,” Zuriel laughed.  “I admire that, but remember my warnings.”

Mihnea nodded.  “I will.  One more thing.  I’ve not been able to carry this sword past the threshold of the throne room.  Do you know what strange magic prevents me from doing so?”

Zuriel scratched his chin and leaned out to look over the castle wall.  “Your father really didn’t tell you much, did he?”

“Are you joking?  The old monster protected his secrets as a she-bear protects her cubs.    He was always worried about a usurper, and rightly so.  He never told me anything.”

“It has to do with the seal of protection placed on the gateway.  Only the gateway’s guardian can approach the throne with the sword.  Dracula discovered these secrets and learned how to make himself the guardian.  After he was killed, Abraham Van Helsing was able to approach the gateway with the sword and reset the seal because your father’s blood was still on its blade.”

Mihnea twirled the sword through the air once more.  “I see.  So I’m going to need the blood of Van Helsing’s heir simply to get the sword into the throne room, then I can reset it once more with my own blood.”

“After that, the gateway will be yours to control.  You’ll be able to remove the seals of protection that prevent me from entering the castle,” Zuriel told him.  “Then I can free my brothers and we’ll be on our way, and you’ll have access to allies and power beyond anything you’ve ever imagined.”

Mihnea let out a deep, guttural laugh and sheathed the sword, and the scene went black.

Michael woke from the vision with a start and sat up on the bed.  His head was swimming.  He needed to work this out quickly.  Time was ticking away, and Elizabeth and Abigail were depending on him.

So, that’s why Mihnea had given him back the sword- in hopes that he’d uncover more of the castle’s secrets.  It seemed like a big risk to give an enemy such a powerful weapon.  What if he tried to use it against him?  But Mihnea wasn’t afraid of a boy.  Even Michael knew that he wasn’t strong enough to use the sword on that creep himself; he’d be easily overpowered if he tried.

Michael hammered his fists down onto the bed, releasing another cloud of dust into the air.  Maybe I’ll prove him right, maybe this castle does have some secrets I can uncover, but to use against him.  We’ve already freed his grandfather, I bet he wasn't’ expecting that!  Mihnea was powerful and conniving, but perhaps his overconfidence could be used to defeat him.

He jumped off the bed and walked around it a few times before ending back up at the window.  Looking off into the mountains and breathing the cold air seemed to help him think.

So the gateway was in the throne room, and only Olaf would be able to carry the sword in.  Maybe they could find some other way to destroy the portal, figure out how to do it without Olaf.  If they only needed his blood to break the seal of protection, perhaps they could just put some on the sword to carry it in, but what then?  Michael needed more answers.  He rubbed his head and then climbed back onto the bed.  He reached down and grasped the sword again.

Nothing happened.

“Come on,” he pleaded in frustration.  “I need answers.  I need to figure out how to defeat Mihnea and destroy that portal!  Show me something, ANYTHING.”

He concentrated as hard as he could.  Tell me how to defeat him, show me a way, please!

Michael’s ring began to glow, and within seconds blue light enveloped the sword. Once again, the room before him faded away.

Michael opened his eyes to find himself riding a white horse, which galloped swiftly along a winding country road.  It was a beautiful day; the air was warm and the sky was clear, except for a few clouds hanging off above the green hills in the distance.  He could just make out the outskirts of a village.

“Looks like Silene is just up ahead,” Michael found himself saying while giving the horse a pat on the neck.  “I’ll bet you’re ready for a cool drink of water, aren’t you boy.  You’ve been working hard today, Artax.”  Michael recognized the kind voice of the man whom he’d heard the fist time he touched the sword.  It belonged to George.

Before long they were riding through the gates of the village, and George brought the horse to a halt in front of an old woman walking along the side of the road.

“Pardon me,” he said to her, “could you direct me to the well that I might draw water for my horse?”

The old woman looked up at him pitifully.  “I would happily do so, good sir, were it not for the serpent who guards the spring.”

“Serpent?” asked George.  “What manner of serpent could withhold your spring from a knight such as I and his thirsty steed?”

“The most fearsome dragon upon which ever these aged eyes of mine have lain.  He is a merciless creature, demanding the payment of a sheep for each day my people desire to use our own well.  Yesterday we gave the beast our final sheep, and this morning he demanded a maid in its stead.  The fathers of each young maid in our village drew straws, and fate determined that our beloved Princess Sabra must be taken to the vile serpent as an offering.”  The old woman lowered her head and began to sob miserably.

“Has your princess already been taken to this devil?” George asked her.

“Even as we speak,” she wept.

“Then quickly, dear mother, show me the way to your spring, and by my life your good princess may yet be returned to you.”

“Many have tried, and turned feast for that monster,” she told him, “but if it be your will to try, then drive your steed to the foot of that mountain as quick as he runs.”

George turned his horse and without hesitation galloped down the path.

“Fly, Artax!  This is no mortal dragon we go to face; we shall test these new weapons that Uriel has gifted to us.”

They soon came upon the well, where a large dragon towered over the form of fallen knight in plate armor.

The man had a long gray beard, which was colored with blood.  His girth- constraining armor told Michael he’d outgrown it long ago, and the remains of an ornate, shattered sword lay at his feet.  A black-haired maiden in a flowing purple dress wept bitterly upon the ground beside him.  This had to be the king and his daughter, Michael thought.  He’d apparently decided to make his own attempt at killing the beast instead of offering up his daughter.

As George brought the horse to a halt, the maiden picked up the old man’s shield and held it up over him.

The dragon had heard George approaching, and now turned to face him.  His dark green scales rippled as he flexed his muscles in anticipation of the new foe.  He bared his horrible razor-like teeth and hissed.  Then he laughed.  “I see that two fools will serve as my dinner tonight.  Or perhaps you’d like to reconsider your folly and ride back to wherever it is you’ve come from.  I hope you don’t, however, for today my hunger is great.”

“Come with me willingly and spare yourself some pain,” George told him.  “I know that I cannot kill you, but great agony will befall you for resisting me.  Either way, you will be taken and cast into the pit for your rebellion and crimes against God and man.”

The dragon roared with laughter.  “Come then, perhaps I’ll spare the king’s life long enough for him to watch you burned alive for your insolence.”  He spat out a stream of fire, which enveloped George and his horse.

For a moment, Michael was terrified for him, expecting the man to be incinerated, but as George held up his lance, some unseen force deflected the waves of fire, and they simply blew around him like a hot summer wind.

The dragon roared in laughter once again, until he saw his victim, unharmed, staring back at him.

“WHAT?” the creature roared in confusion.  “What manner of man are you?  If my flames cannot touch you then perhaps you’d like to be smashed into wine.”

The beast whipped its tale violently at the knight, but Artax seemed to sense the blow coming and reared back out of the way.  George directed the horse into a gallop and shot off away down the road as the dragon resumed his laughter.

“Ha, ha, ha.  Flee coward.  But be warned, if I ever see your craven face in these parts again, not even the swiftest horse will save you.”

Before he finished speaking, George pulled the horse back to face him.  He held his lance even and steady, and quickly sized the monster up, and then he charged.  The dragon dug his feet in and braced for the impact, bearing his teeth in a smile that Judas in hell might be proud of.  “Come then, boy.  Come and meet your fate like a man,” he roared.

George’s lance met the dragon’s scale armored chest with a crack as loud as thunder, and Michael expected to see shattered wooden pieces go flying in all directions, but amidst a flash of blue light, the only thing that went flying was the serpent.  He was thrown dozens of feet through the air before crashing down to the earth with a blow that shook the leaves free from nearby trees.

The dragon lay on its back, motionless, with its tongue flopped across the dust.  A rope of blue light had appeared and was winding tightly around its body from head to tail.

George slid off his horse and drew his sword.  He thrust it into the body of the fallen serpent, and immediately its form began to change.  As Michael watched, the large body of the dragon was soon replaced with that of a regular man.  His ethereal bonds remained as tight as before, and when George withdrew the sword, no wound remained, and no blood stained the blade.

“Come…here. Come…” called a firm but failing voice.  George looked at the king, whose quivering hand reached out to him.  He went to the brave old fellow, taking his hand and meeting his frightened eyes.

“Thank y-you, for saving her,” he strained to say.  “I give her to you, t-to wife.”

George looked at the weeping girl crouching next to her father’s body.  She was stunning, even amidst her tears.  She had curly, black hair, and large brown eyes.  Michael was shocked- she looked surprisingly like Magda, like a slightly older sister perhaps.

“Sh-she has always spoken of marrying a gallant warrior someday.  I never had the heart to give her hand to a man she didn’t love, but now here you are, almost as if you’d ridden out from one of her stories.”  He placed their hands together and gazed up at her lovingly.  “Take care of her for me,” he said softly before slipping away.

“Goodbye, my father,” the girl wept as she leaned over to kiss him one last time.

George sheathed the sword and helped the princess to her feet, and the scene faded away.

When Michael opened his eyes he felt tired and weak.  He had to force himself to get up, and when he looked to the window he noticed it was starting to get dark outside.  That’s odd, he thought, I must have been out for a while that time.  He staggered over and pulled the window shut, making sure it was locked securely.

The experience had really taken a lot out of him for some reason.  Then again, he’d never had two visions so close together before.  Something else was different this time as well.  He’d been able to see George’s memory even though he hadn’t been touching the sword the whole time.

And that princess- Magda looked so much like her, was it possible she was Magda’s ancestor?  The dragon had told her that she had the blood of heroes and kings in her veins.

Still, how could he use any of this information against Mihnea?

At least he was getting better at controlling the visions.  He was tired, but he needed something more, there had to be something that could help them, some little tidbit of information that could make all the difference.

He lay down in the bed again and grasped the hilt of the sword.

“Okay, let’s do this one more time.  Concentrate,” he commanded himself.  “Show me something, anything that can help us.  Please!”

It took several minutes of hard concentration before blue light began to emanate from Michael’s ring.  It enveloped the sword, and his vision began to blur.

The scene that opened up before Michael was one of a candle-lit bedchamber.  It took him only a few moments to recognize the man who stood over him, looking down with sad, watery eyes.  The Dragon looked younger and much healthier than he had the last time Michael had seen him.

“My good friend,” The Dragon said, patting his hand, “I don’t know how I’m going to carry on without you.  It doesn’t seem right that I go on living, remaining so young, while you must grow old and die.  You are a greater man than me in both nature and deed.”

“Do not grieve for me, Vlad.  You have been a faithful friend and ally, and the work I was entrusted with will be passed on to others when the time comes.”  He let out a series of loud, rasping coughs.  “But you, my friend.  You must continue to fight evil in all its forms.  You must continue to train others-to teach them all the things you’ve learned.”

“I will.  I give you my word on that.”  He wiped the tears from his eyes and paced to the foot of the bed and back.  “And what of this castle?  It was built as a fortress to protect that gateway in the throne room, a gateway that only you control.  What will become of this place upon your death?”

“Uriel told me that my true heir would always have control over this castle.  Someday, hundreds of years from now, the gateway will no longer be needed.  And then it will become the duty of that person to destroy it.”

“But what if your line comes to an end?  Have you been assured that a rightful heir will be walking the earth when that day comes?”

“No, I haven’t.  But there are things more important than blood, birthrights, or titles.  My true heir will be known by his courage and honor, and by his willingness to do what needs to be done, even if it costs him everything.”

The Dragon nodded.  “I understand.  But now as your work on this earth comes to an end, I find myself wondering what kind of man could possibly replace you.”

“Your words flatter me more than my own memory.  I’m far from perfect, but I’ve tried to be a good man.  I’ve made the acquaintance of better men than myself, and I’m sure many better will come along long after my spirit has departed.”  He took his friend’s hand and squeezed it tightly.  “Soon I will be with my beloved princess once again; The Lord could grant me no greater reward.”  He closed his eyes and let out a deep, long sigh.  “Will you stay with me Vlad, until I pass?”

Michael suddenly realized something; he could feel George’s emotions, sense some of his thoughts.  He was full of sorrow from saying goodbye to his friend, but there was happiness as well.  There was a longing to go on to that place he considered his true home.

“Rest, my friend,” came the voice of the Dragon.  “I’m not going anywhere.”

Michael slowly opened his eyes.  He lay still for several long moments, straining to focus on the world around him.  He turned his head to see that the sky outside his window was now black, although the room was lit up from the faery lantern he’d placed on his dresser.  He must have been out for several hours, although the vision he’d just seen was still fresh in his memory.

He pushed himself up to a sitting position- surprised by the effort it took, and leaned against his pillows.  Another small cloud of dust arose from the bed, and as he sneezed a large clump of coagulated blood shot into his lap.

“Uhg, gross,” he mumbled aloud.  Lifting his hand, he felt a crusty dried substance all over his face and neck.  “OH NO,” he yelled in fear, hopping to the floor and stumbling to the mirror.  He nearly crashed into it headfirst, he felt so weak.  Frantically, he searched his neck for bite-marks, but to his relief, found none.  A fresh trickle of blood began to stream down both sides of his nose.

Finding fresh water in the washbasin, he cleaned himself as best he could, plugged his nose to stop the bleeding, and took a good look in the mirror.  He barely recognized the boy looking back at him with sunken eyes and a pale face.  He couldn’t remember looking so bad since a bout with pneumonia a few years earlier.  He didn’t feel sick though, just fatigued.  He had pushed himself too hard, he realized, but maybe it had been worth it.  Maybe he had gotten the answer he’d been looking for.  He needed to get out of this room and get to his sister and friends as soon as he could.

Even as these thoughts ran through his head, he found himself climbing back onto the bed.  He couldn’t do anything until he rested, that much was obvious.  And in his condition, trying to brave the castle in the middle of the night was probably not the best idea.  Although he was exhausted, he wasn’t sure he could easily go back to sleep.  Even so, he closed his eyes and let his thoughts wander through all the things he’d just seen.  A thin smile spread across his face.

“You think you’re so smart,” he whispered as Mihnea’s face glared at him through his mind.  “I know a few things that you don’t, you big arrogant—"

The shrill sound of nails scratching on glass sent a chill through Michael’s body.  He sat up faster than he’d believed he could and gazed at the window.

A small, white hand pawed at the glass, and Michael cringed to hear the scratching.  He slid off his bed and retrieved his bow, never looking away from the window.  It took much effort to pull back an arrow, and his hands shook as he strained to hold it, creeping toward the ghostly visitor.

It was so dark outside that he couldn’t see anything but a vague discoloration through the glass.  Michael wished he’d thought to pick up the lantern and take it with him in his teeth, but it was too late for that now.

He stepped within mere feet of the window, and terror seized his heart as a small girl appeared, floating in the black air like a ghost.

“Michael, let me in,” pleaded his sister.  “It’s cold out here.  Please open the window for me.”

Michael held the bow as steady as he could, the arrow ready to be loosed.  He looked into the horrified eyes of his baby sister.  Was she really one of them now?  Did this mean there was no hope left for her?  Had she made her first kill?  “You’re a vampire,” he told her sadly, tears beginning to fill his eyes.  “What are you doing out there, Abby?  Am I supposed to be your next victim?”  Michael had never felt so hopeless, so scared.  He didn’t think he had it in him to shoot his own sister, even if it meant forfeiting his own life.

“Michael, please,” the girl cried.  “Help me!  I’m your sister.”

Michael began to weep as he lowered his bow and set it on the floor near the window, and then with all the strength he could muster, he cast it open to let her in.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

The Master of the Castle

Michael’s heart pounded as he watched Abigail float in from the window and alight down in front of him.  He began to collapse, too weak to stand any longer.  Pain shot through his legs as his knees hit the floor.

Abigail threw her arms around him.  Her body was trembling and her skin felt as though she’d been bathing in ice water.  “Thank you, Michael, thank you,” she whispered through chattering teeth.

It took a few moments before Michael felt confident that she wasn’t going to lunge for his throat.  “We need to get you warmed up,” he told her.  They helped each other over to the hearth, and before long a fire was crackling before them.

“What happened, Abby, why were you floating around outside like that?”

Abigail had stopped shaking, but was now breathing heavily.  Color was beginning to return to her face.  “I re-really thought…that for a moment there…you were going to shoot me.”  She began to sob uncontrollably, and Michael put his arms around her once again.

“I’d never hurt you, Abby.  You’re my baby sister.  I love you, and you’ll always be able to count on me, even if you are a blood-sucking vampire.”

For some reason, this made her cry even harder.

“That didn’t come out quite right,” he apologized, patting her back.  “We’ll figure this out, okay.  I’m not going to let Mihnea win.  We’ll kill him before you change for good into a vampire.”  He looked at her seriously.  “You…you haven’t made your first kill yet, have you?”

“Of course not.  What do you think I am, some kind of monster?”

“No, that’s not what I meant.  Look, just tell me what happened, okay.”

Abigail took some long, deep breaths to get herself under control, and wiped the tears from her eyes.  “I-I’m not exactly sure what happened.  I was about to go to bed, but I felt really hot, so I opened up my window.  Now that I think about it, that was kind of a weird thing for me to do, not knowing what was out there to let in.  But I was so hot, burning up; all I could think about was letting in some cold, fresh air.  Anyway I opened up the window and laid down on the bed.  I was so tired, I fell asleep right away, but when I woke up I was floating away outside my window.  As much as I kicked and tried to swim my way back through the air, I just kept floating around until I ended up outside of your window.  I didn’t even know this was your room, I was just trying to get back in.”  She began to cry again.  “I was so scared out there.  I thought I was going to stop floating and fall to my DEATH.”  With this last word she wailed out as if she still expected it to happen.

“Look, try to calm down.  You’re alright now,” Michael assured her with another hug.  “Abby, listen to me, I know you were under Mihnea’s spell earlier, but I need you to try and remember everything you saw, okay?  Do you remember how to get to Elizabeth’s room?”

Abigail’s sobs suddenly turned into a maniacal chuckle.  Tears continued to run down her face.

“Why are you laughing?” Michael asked nervously.

“I wasn’t under his spell.  I was faking it the whole time,” she explained.

“Faking it?” Michael repeated in shock.

“Of course.  I saw through his stupid tricks that night in the orphanage.  He hasn’t been able to pull anything on me since then, but I thought it might be useful to let him think otherwise.  I wanted to see where Elizabeth was staying, and now I know.”

“Sometimes you really amaze me, Abby, you know that?” Michael told her with a tight squeeze.  “How far away is it?  You can find your way back there without getting lost, right?”

“Sure, but our rooms are locked.  We’d have to find a way out of here first.”

Michael nodded.  “I’ve tried, but haven’t had any luck so far.  Dad would tell us that there’s always a way out, we just have to find it.”

Abigail shrugged.  “I suppose I could bite you and we could float out the window together.”

Michael gave her a concerned frown.  “Don’t even think about it,” he warned.

She laughed at him.

“Hey,” he said with a snap, “Have you tried turning into a bat or a wolf yet?  Alucard could even turn into mist.  If you’re part vampire now you might be able to do those things.”

“I don’t want to,” the girl whined.  “I don’t plan on staying this way any longer than I have to you know.”

“I know that, but give it a shot,” he urged.  “If you can pull it off it might help us escape.”

After a few minutes of arguing, she reluctantly agreed to try.  She concentrated with all her might, and then changed form.

The little mountain lion sitting on the rug before him looked just like the one he’d seen before, although this time her fangs appeared to be a bit longer.  Maybe that’s just my imagination, Michael thought.

“Hey, that’s really great,” Michael told her, “but it’s not quite what we’re looking for.  Try again.”

She changed back into a girl.  “Okay, but there’s something I need to tell you first.  I’ve been able to change into a cougar for a long time now.  For months actually, but I didn’t tell you because I thought you’d hate me for it.”

Michael was stunned.  He didn’t know what to say.  He was annoyed and a little hurt, and wondered if he’d done something to make her distrust him.

“Alright, listen, we’ll talk about that later,” he told her.  “Right now we need to focus on getting out of here.  Just keep trying to change okay.”

Abigail tried again and again, but each time she changed it was only into the form of a mountain lion.

Michael groaned in frustration.  “That’s enough, you’re just going to wear yourself out.  Besides, it’s probably a good sign that you can’t change into those things anyway.”

“Well, there has to be something we can do.”  She gazed at him with a worried frown.

“What is it?  Have you got an idea?”

“Well, what if we tried to call Og again?”

Michael thought about it for a moment, it wasn’t a bad idea, but he wasn’t sure it was safe.  “No, I don’t think we should risk it.  Just because he didn’t hurt us when the Dragon was with us doesn’t mean that we’ll be able to control him.”

Michael walked to his window and took a look at the castle wall beneath him.  There was a narrow ledge about eight feet below.  He might be able to skim across it and find another way back into the castle.  He was examining it thoughtfully when Abigail came up beside him.  She saw what he was doing and groaned nervously.

“I’ll do it,” she told him weakly.

“Abby, don’t even think about it.  I’m not going to let you try that, no way.”

“You can’t do it.  You could barely stand up a minute ago.  What’s wrong with you anyway, you look terrible.  Are you sick or something?”

“I’ll explain later.  Right now let’s focus on getting out of here.”

Abigail looked down at the ledge again.  “Well, if I climb down as a cat, my claws will do all the work for me anyway.”

“But you’re terrified of heights,” he reminded her.

Her eyes grew wide as she looked down at the ledge.  “Don’t remind me.”

Michael thought about it for a few moments before reluctantly agreeing to let her try it.  Then he had an idea.  “Hey, do you think you can make it up onto the roof?”

She held her head out the window and looked up, examining the prospective climb.  “Sure,” she gulped with a scared look.

“Alright, I’ll tie this rope to you, you climb up there and find a good place to tie it for me, then I’ll climb up too.”

She gave him a disapproving frown.

“I’m feeling much better, I promise.  If you tie the rope up there for me, I’ll be really careful and go slowly, I’ll be fine.  Look, it’s the ONLY WAY.”

“All RIGHT,” she said pointedly.  “But what do you plan on doing once we’re up there?”

“Once we’re up there,” he said thoughtfully, “our next step will be to pay Magda a visit.  I have something important to tell her.”

Abigail just stared at him nervously.  “And what exactly…oh never mind, just get the stupid rope.”

Magda Van Helsing sat upon her bed with her legs crossed beneath her.  She clutched a silver crucifix in her hand and listened to the sound of the crackling fire, a sound that had always brought her comfort.  Sometimes peace could be drawn from the strangest places, she thought to herself as her eyes fell shut.

“Our Father which art in heaven, Hallowed be thy name.  Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done in earth, as it is in heaven.  Give us this day our daily bread.  And forgive us our debts, as we forgive our debtors.  And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil: For thine is the kingdom, and the power, and the glory, for ever. Amen.”

Magda hopped off the bed and walked to her window.  She pushed it open and drank in the cold night air, and listened as the howling of wolves echoed off the mountains in the distance.  Large flakes of snow were falling down, and all she could see was a shifting veil of white.  “Father, protect us,” she whispered.  “This is an evil place, and these forces of darkness have hunted my family for far too long.”  Magda thought of her mother.  She’d been so beautiful and warm, so full of life, and she’d always made her feel safe and secure- until the day she’d been taken.  Ever since then, there was no such thing as safety, no such thing as warmth, or security, or beauty.  Magda remembered that day as if it were yesterday; she remembered how everything beautiful and good had been washed away, taken from her, and from Olaf too.

For a while she had blamed God, and she’d learned to hate everyone and everything around her, but now she just blamed Mihnea.  She’d somehow learned to see the difference between good and evil again, even from that dark prison of sorrow.

She was beginning to see and appreciate beauty once again too, she realized.  She wasn’t sure when it had happened, but somehow she’d always known that her mother would have wanted her to embrace happiness, to seek joy.  That’s what’s made the difference, she thought to herself while gazing at the stars, loyalty to my mother.  I’ll find happiness, she promised to the stars, I’ll survive this dark journey, no matter what it takes.

Her thoughts turned to Michael, and a worried grin spread across her lips.  She liked the boy, despite his awkwardness and strange sense of humor.  He was brave, and for some reason she trusted him. She could tell that he really liked her too, and it gave her a warm, secure feeling inside.  How odd that seemed to her.

She closed her eyes once again.  Father, protect them, she prayed silently.  Michael and his family, and their friends.  And Olaf, please don’t let him be taken away from me too.  Help him, I beg you.  Help us all.

Magda scanned the night sky once more before pulling the window closed.  She walked to her bed and drew the covers back, placing a selection of weapons beside her in case she had need of them sometime during the night.

Perhaps a good nights sleep would do her good before having to deal with whatever fight awaited them.  She covered up and closed her eyes, wondering if she’d be able to rest at all in such an evil, dangerous place.  For some reason she couldn’t explain, she felt oddly at peace here.  But how can that be, she asked herself.  Even as she searched for the answer in her head her eyes began to slide shut and her mind began to drift away.

The thunderous sound of shattering glass suddenly rang out across the room.  Magda scrambled for a dagger and a vial of holy water before rolling out of the covers and sliding beneath the bed.  Carefully she drew the skirting aside, and looked out to see a rope swinging wildly just outside the window, and the crumpled body of Michael Belmont laying on the floor, his pale face lit up by the glowing orange fire.

“MICHAEL,” she yelled as she scurried out and threw her arms around him.  He opened his eyes and smiled at her weakly.

“Sorry about that,” he told her.  “I meant for things to go a bit differently.”

“I told you,” Abigail scolded him while dropping in from the window.  “I said you were in no shape to try that.  You should have let me come alone, but do you ever listen to me?”  She threw her hands on her hips and glared down at him.  “Of course you don’t!”

Magda was speechless.  These Belmonts were like no children she’d ever met before, and she still wasn’t entirely sure what to think of them.

“And have Magda put a stake through your heart?” Michael asked, pulling himself to a sitting position.  “You nearly scared me to death when you showed up at my window, what do you think she’d have done to you?”

“Well, I would have been a bit more subtle than you were,” she argued back.  “I’ll be surprised if you haven’t notified the whole castle as to where we are.”

“Just stop it you two,” Magda told them.  “For mercy’s sake!  Michael, what’s going on?  You look like you’ve got one foot in the grave, have you been bitten?”  She didn’t wait for an answer, but held his head in her hands and jerked it back and forth, looking for fang marks.

“Knock it off,” he told her in a pained voice.  “I’m fine, I haven’t been bitten, it’s just been a rough night.  Listen, I’ve been able to see more of George’s memories through the sword.”  He quickly recounted everything he’d seen, piecing it all together as best he could.  “We need to get out of here, and get to the gateway as fast as we can,” he urged them, “before Mihnea figures out what we’re up to.  We need to destroy it.”

“Michael, how are we supposed to do that,” Abigail asked him.  “I thought we needed Olaf to try and destroy it.”

Magda looked at him in confusion as well, shaking her head.

Michael took a deep breath, trying to calm his frustration.  His head was pounding.  “Haven’t you two been listening?” he pleaded.  “Olaf isn’t the true heir of Van Helsing, Magda is!”

With those words a dark mist blew in from the window, and the laughing form of Mihnea materialized before them.

“Well, I have to say, this has gone even better than I expected,” Mihnea told them with an evil glare.  “I was hoping you’d somehow prove useful Michael, and you haven’t disappointed me.”  He stepped toward Magda with a threatening twinkle in his blood-red eyes.

“WAIT,” Michael demanded, moving in front of her.  “We’ll give you what you want, just leave us alone.”

“Now why should I do that?” Mihnea asked in amusement.  “Your little friend there is a Van Helsing.  I need her blood for some business.  Business that I’m afraid you know something about.  Now how is it that three worthless little whelps like you could know about my business?  I should like to have an answer to that.”

“You want us to cooperate, don’t you?”  Michael asked him.  “For this wedding of yours?  If you hurt Magda we won’t do it.  We’ll fight you every step of the way.”

Much to Michael’s relief, this actually gave Mihnea pause, but he knew he had to move quickly.  He pulled the Sword of Van Helsing from its scabbard, and took Magda by the hand.

“Michael, what exactly do you think you’re doing?” she whispered to him nervously.

“Trust me, okay?  This is the only way to protect you.”  He peered into her eyes, hoping she’d have faith in him.  She looked scared and angry, but gave him a confident nod.

“Do whatever you need to.”

“This is going to hurt a bit,” he said, giving her hand a squeeze.

“Just do it,” she said through clenched teeth.

Michael drew the sword gently across her forearm until a stream of blood appeared.  He smeared it across the blade, and then handed the weapon to Mihnea.

“You have what you want, now go,” he told him angrily.

“All right,” Mihnea conceded, “but don’t think that this is over.  You still have much to answer for.  Rest assured, we’ll get to all of it in time.”

“I look forward to it,” Michael said defiantly.

Mihnea just smiled and shook his head.  “Enjoy the rest of your night, children.”  He took the sword and changed into a swirling black mist while leaping back out the window.

Magda grabbed Michael’s arm and spun him around to look at her.  “Have you lost your mind?” she barked.  “Why’d you give in to Mihnea like that?  Now he can open up the portal!”

“I don’t think he will,” Michael said calmly.

“You don’t think he will,” Abigail mocked him.  “Just what do you mean by that, huh?”

Michael began to rub his head.  “Mihnea is headed to the throne room right now to take control of that portal, but he’s not going to experiment with letting anything out of it, not until after the wedding anyway.  He’s not going to risk a disruption.”

“Great,” Magda said, throwing her arms in the air.  “What’s the difference, you still gave him control of the portal, now we’re helpless to stop him.”

Michael just shook his head and began to pick up his things, which had scattered across the floor when he’d crashed through the window.  “No, we’re not helpless.  Far from it.”

“If you don’t get to the point and explain yourself, you’re in for a beating,” Abigail warned him while cracking her knuckles.  “I don’t care how sick you’re feeling.”

Michael ignored her.  “Alright, calm down and listen.  Not only is Magda the true heir of Van Helsing, I believe she’s the true master of this castle.”

The two girls looked at each other and shrugged.

“The Van Helsings are descended from Saint George the Dragonslayer.  As his rightful heir, you’re the true master of this castle.  Even though Dracula was somehow able to take control of it, and warp it into a place of evil, the rightful heir of George will always be its true master.”

“But Michael, how can you be sure of that,” Magda pleaded.  “You’ve taken an awfully big chance if you’ve based it all on a hunch.”

“Remember that door you opened up down in the crypt?  Well, I’ll eat my hat if you can’t open up this one too,” he said, pointing to the bedroom door.

“You don’t wear a hat, bonehead,” Abigail told him.

Magda walked to the heavy wooden door and gave it a yank.  Nothing happened.

“Command it to open,” Michael suggested.

Magda frowned at him and sighed.  “All right.  Hey door,” she said sarcastically, “I command you to open up.”

The door immediately clicked and swung open for her.  Magda’s jaw dropped, and Abigail yipped with glee.

“Hey, you were right.  Good job, big brother,” Abigail said with a clap of her hands.

“Yeah, thanks” Michael told her as he crossed his arms.  “Nice of you to say so.  You sure are a fickle little sidekick, aren’t you?”

“Sidekick?” she said with a sour look.  “If anything, you’re my sidekick.”

“Would you two dial it back for a while, I mean honestly,” Magda begged them.  She took in a few deep breaths.  “So what are we going to do now?”

“Well, Liam would probably appreciate being rescued, and then we’ve got to head for the throne room so you can shut down that gateway for good,” Michael told her.

“I don’t know how to do that,” she pleaded.

“We’ll figure it out together.  It’s going to be dangerous, but I won’t let anything happen to you.”

“You sure are confident, aren’t you?” Abigail sneered.  “How can you possibly promise her that you’re going to keep her safe?  You’re no match for Mihnea.”

“We’ll all have to keep each other safe,” Magda broke in.  “Friends are one thing that we have and Mihnea doesn’t.”

Michael filled Liam in on the nights events as they all crept down the corridor.

“All right,” Liam said with a nod.  “So all we have to do now is rescue Elizabeth, find the throne-room, retrieve the sword, kill Mihnea so Abigail won’t completely vamp out, and then destroy an ancient, demonic prison gateway.  Sounds easy enough.  Oh, and I forgot a few things.  We also need to find Caleb and our fathers, and see if we can figure out what happened to Alucard.  Does that about sum it up or did I miss something?”

Michael’s stomach tightened as he listened to his friend prattle on.  “No, I think you’ve about covered it.”

“Elizabeth’s chambers are just up ahead,” Abigail told them.

“All right,” Michael said.  “When we get there just let me do the talking, okay.”

“Whatever,” Abigail retorted, waving him off.

As they slowly crept along, the only signs of life they passed were a few spiders and the occasional scurrying mouse.

“I can’t believe Mihnea doesn’t have any guards in here,” Magda said as they turned a corner.

“I think you spoke too soon,” Liam told her as they nearly stumbled over the bodies of two large men littering the ground.  Magda stooped to examine them.  “Werewolves.  Both dead.  We’ll most likely run into more of these, they’re favored servants of vampires.”

Abigail cringed and grabbed Michael by the arm.  “Hey, do you think Caleb and our dads were here?”

Michael shrugged.  “I don’t know who else would have done this, except for Alucard.  Look,” he said while pointing to the door, which was several inches ajar.

Liam crept over and peaked inside.  “I don’t see anyone,” he said, pushing it all the way open.  They entered the room to find it empty, with no signs of a struggle.  “Well, it’d be nice to know what happened, but I guess we can assume Elizabeth is safe for now."

“Yeah, probably,” Michael agreed.  “Once whoever came for her saw that she’d been bitten, I’m sure they will have gone for Mihnea.  We need to get up to the throne room as fast as we can, maybe we can meet up with them there.”

“Great,” Magda said, “but where’s the throne room?”

After discussing what they all knew about the layout of castles, a general agreement was made about the most likely path.

Michael adjusted his backpack and bow.  “All right, remember how huge this place is.  If any of us gets separated, do what you can to get to the throne room.  That will be our meet up place.”

“Don’t meet up places work a little better when everyone knows how to get there?” Liam pointed out.

Magda waved her hand at them.  “Let’s just make sure that none of us gets separated, alright?”

“That sounds like the best plan to me,” Abigail agreed while nodding her head furiously.

Magda gave her a pat and drew her daggers.

Michael handed his lantern to Liam.  “Why don’t you take the lead,” he told Magda as he pulled an arrow and notched it on his bow.  “I’ll bring up the rear and cover you.”

Magda nodded, but Liam gave him a curious, disapproving smirk.  “Putting a girl up front?  Wait until I tell your da about this!”

“Trust me on this one,” Michael told him.  “She can hold her own, besides, we’ve had a chance to try something like this before, haven’t we Magda?”

She nodded.  “Michael’s right, we make a good team this way.”  Then she looked at Liam and stuck her tongue at him.  “Male chauvinist,” she added.

He rolled his eyes.

They formed up and started out, and soon found themselves exiting the guest quarters.  Their surroundings suddenly got a lot dirtier.  Large, mangled cobwebs were hanging everywhere, and most of the furniture they passed was broken or rotting.  Portraits of long forgotten people and depictions of ancient battles hung from the walls, and Michael found himself distracted by side passageways, which led off to neglected rooms and dark, hidden corners.  At any given moment, it seemed that there were a thousand places from which an attack might come.

The shuffle of their feet seemed to be making far too much noise as they snuck along, and every movement or whisper, no matter how light, echoed off the walls around them.  Liam held up the lantern to give them as much light as possible, and to Michael’s pleasure, he saw that the corridor down which they were traveling seemed to be twinkling a little brighter than any other.  Good, he thought, at least we’re headed in the right direction.

They travelled along for several long minutes before coming to a large open room with a broad staircase.  Magda approached the base of the stairs and turned her head to check on everyone.  Michael gave her an assuring nod, and she began to ascend cautiously toward the balcony.

“You don’t want to go that way, dear,” came a soothing female voice from behind them.

Michael spun around to see three women standing at the doorway where they’d just come in.  A huge metal door swung shut behind them, barring the way out.

“Didn’t anyone warn you kids about the horrible things that live in this castle?” said one of the others.

All three women were breathtakingly beautiful, and their flowing ethereal dresses left little to the imagination.  The one on the left had shoulder length black hair and a blue dress.  She was the one who’d just spoken.

The woman in the middle had long, red hair and her dress was white.  Michael noticed instantly that her eyes were of a darker red than her hair.

The woman on the right took a step forward and ran her fingers through gleaming, blonde curls.  “I’ve had my eyes on you, handsome,” she said to Liam, who pointed at himself and gave her a dumb, scared grin.  This one was wearing a short, black dress, and it only took Michael a moment of uncertainty before he recognized her as the waitress who’d served them at Mihnea’s restaurant back home.  She gave Michael a smile and winked at Abigail.  “Nice to see you again, Michael, this time it’s my turn to have you for dinner.”

Michael drew back his arrow and stepped in front of Abigail.

“Are you sure you want to turn your back on that one?” The black haired woman chided him.  “She’s one of us, after all.”

All three women began to call to Abigail as mothers would call to a child, and Michael looked down at her in horror to see a glazed expression on her face.  She soon snapped out of it though.

“Well, what are you waiting for,” she grumbled up at him.  “SHOOT THEM!”

Before he could let loose his arrow, the three women leapt into the air, morphing into horrible, gray half-bat creatures.  Their fangs clicked together and their forked tongues flicked as they eyed their victims hungrily.  Michael jumped when the sound of a gunshot rang out through the air.  The redheaded beastess was already turning to falling ash.  He turned to see Liam gritting his teeth, trying to aim the gun for another shot.

Michael let an arrow fly, but the black-haired vampiress saw it coming and lunged to the side.  The missile clipped her wing and she shot toward him screaming in anger.  Abigail used a leg swipe to take his feet out from beneath him and they fell to the ground together as the creature zipped over their heads.

Michael looked up a moment later to see Magda entangled with the blonde.  Liam had turned and was still trying to get a shot off, but it was obvious that he couldn’t do so without endangering Magda.

Michael pulled a bottle of holy water from his backpack and scrambled to get to his feet, but the bat-faced waitress was upon him again, plowing her body into his and taking him into the air.  The bottle fell from his hand and he watched in terror as it splashed down all over Abigail’s face.  He heard her scream, but lost sight of her as he was carried through the air and slammed high against the far wall.  The grotesque woman snapped at his throat over and over, as he struggled to hold her at bay.

Behind the head of his own attacker, Michael could see Magda trading blows with the blonde, swinging her daggers furiously through the air and getting some good strikes in before the two of them crashed through the rotting wood of the staircase railing and falling from his sight.

Out of nowhere, an arrow came through the air and stuck in the wall by Michael’s head.  He made use of the distraction and punched the vampiress hard in the face, breaking her hold just a bit so that he looked down to see Abigail pulling back another arrow on his bow.  Relief flooded over him as he saw that the holy water had done her no harm, then fear gripped him as he remembered what a terrible shot she was with a recurve bow.

“Abigail, DON'T,” he pleaded with her.

Another arrow whizzed past and stuck into the wall even closer than the first one had.

“Just HOLD STILL,” she commanded him, pulling back yet another arrow.  “Third times a charm.”

“I AM holding still,” he argued.  “And what if it’s three strikes and you’re out?”

“Stop being such a baby.”  She let loose the third arrow and this one shot through the creature's left upper thigh.  It turned and hissed at her in fury, dropping Michael to the ground.

Magda plunged her dagger into the heart of the blonde, and seconds later she was burning away into ash.  Liam shot two rounds at their only remaining enemy as she swooped for Abigail, but upon hearing the shots she changed course and went for Liam instead, kicking him hard in the chest and bowling him over.  She then flew up to the top of the room, hung from the chandelier and glared down at all of them.

“Don’t let her get away,” Magda shouted and ran back up the stairs, standing in front of the door with her daggers drawn and ready.  Abigail threw Michael’s bow back to him before following her up the stairs.

The vampiress shrieked in frustration, and then began to sob.  It was one of the most unnerving and unnatural noises Michael had ever heard.

“Don’t hurt me,” she cried.  “I never meant to harm anyone.  Mihnea made us do it.  We’re his slaves, and he punishes us when we disobey him.”

Abigail looked horrified, and her face puckered up as if she might begin to weep herself.

“Don’t listen to her, Abby,” Magda warned.  “She’s evil.  She’ll say anything to trick us into letting her go.”

At this the creature alighted back down halfway up the stairs and changed back to a normal looking woman.  Tears streamed down her face as she walked toward Magda and Abigail.

“Help me, Abby.  We’re the same, you and I.  I didn’t want to be changed either, I just want to be free like you do.”

“Don’t listen to her, Abby,” Magda warned, stepping in front of her.

“LEAVE HER ALONE,” Abigail shouted, pushing her friend out of the way.  “We need to help her.  Are you guys just going to kill me like you did those other two girls?”

The woman drew closer, reaching her arms out to Abigail, and just as she reached up to meet her, the woman’s face flooded with hatred once again, and her form changed as she lunged forward.

“You’ll all pay for what you did to my sisters,” she shrieked.

Magda leapt back in and caught the brunt of the monster’s fury as all three of them crashed backward.

Michael let loose an arrow, and he saw it fall true through the creature’s heart just as she and the two girls crashed through the door behind them.

Magda brushed the vampire cinders off her clothes in disgust and jumped to her feet.  The door had swung shut behind them, and she pulled on the latch, trying to open it, but it seemed to have locked.  She commanded it to open, but even then it wouldn’t budge.  “What’s going on here?” Magda said angrily, beating and kicking on the door.  “It’s some kind of trap.”

Abigail picked herself up and looked guiltily at Magda.  “I’m sorry,” she said, beginning to cry.  “This is all my fault, isn’t it?”

Magda stopped hitting the door and took a few deep breaths to bring herself under control.  She embraced Abigail and squeezed tightly.  “Don’t say that Abby.  There are things going on here that none of us are able to control.”

The two girls stood there for a while, and Magda held her friend until she stopped crying.  Then they searched around for something that would open the door, but they could find nothing.  Magda commanded it to open using several different phrases, but after a while she resigned herself to the fact that it was no use.

“Are you ready to move on, Abby?  Looks like we’ll have to rely on each other for a little while.”

Abigail removed the hair tie from behind her head, brushed the tangled locks from her eyes, and nodded reluctantly.

As they started off, they examined their surroundings.  They were in a long, large chamber, lit by torches hanging off the walls.

Magda nervously ran her fingers across the blade of her long, slender dagger.  They appeared to be safe for now, but she had no idea how they could get back to Michael and Liam.  She needed to concentrate on finding the throne room now, and keeping Abigail safe.

“What are we going to do?”  The young girl asked, looking up nervously.

“We’re going to be fine, Abby.  I know you’re scared, and I am too, but the two of us are warriors; no creature of darkness can prevail when facing both a Van Helsing and a Belmont.”  She shook her fists in the air and displayed her muscles.

Abigail laughed and did the same thing.  “GIRL POWER,” she shouted bravely.

Magda placed her finger over her own lips.  “Right you are, but let’s not temp fate, okay?  Are you ready?”

Abigail finished pulling her hair together and retied it into a ponytail behind her head.  She looked at Magda with a new determination in her eyes and gave her a nod.

Together they crept through the dark chamber, pushing through the dusty cobwebs and stepping lightly to better conceal their presence.

Abigail soon began to feel as if the dark stone walls were closing in on her, and she started to tremble.  She was trying to be brave, but she was tired, and her fever was coming back, and visions of vampires, werewolves, and other dark creatures danced through her head.  Fear was beginning to overcome her once more.

“Magda, how can you be so brave at a time like this?  How can you handle it all, I mean… everything you’ve been through in your life?”

Magda paused for a moment to look down at her.  She could see the fear in the girl’s eyes, and smiled at her assuringly.  “My father once told me to strengthen my soul; to develop my courage, integrity, and honor.  These are the only things we will take with us into the next world.  My mother and father were both well prepared for that journey.”  Her eyes wandered off and welled with tears.  “Though I greatly miss them both.”

“But what about Olaf?  He doesn’t seem to follow that advise.”

“No,” she shook her head, “he doesn’t, you’re right.  Olaf is a self-centered coward; I can see that now.  But perhaps he’ll change someday.”  She looked hard into Abigail’s longing blue eyes.  “Don’t fear those who can take only your life, little one.  Fear the evil one, who would seek to destroy your soul.”

She took Magda’s hand and gave it a squeeze.  She was working hard to overcome her fear, and Magda’s courage had a way of making her feel stronger too.

They approached the end of the chamber, where a large wooden cross hung upside down on the wall in front of them, a sword was driven through its center.

Magda looked disgusted.  “Sacrilege,” she said and spat on the floor.

Abigail cringed.  “This must be the chapel, or at least what remains of it.”

“Yes, but now it is an unholy, defiled place.  But then again, I suppose that’s true of the whole castle.  Let’s keep moving, I don’t feel comfortable here.”

They exited through a door on their right into an adjacent room.  Bricks from the wall in front of them were missing, and stars twinkled happily on the other side, dotted across the crisp night sky.  A fresh layer of snow covered the floor.

Abigail paused to admire the scene.  “It’s beautiful.”

Magda nodded in agreement and together they stood looking for a moment.  The breeze blowing upon them was cold, but the view made them both feel a little warmer somehow.  “There are always things of beauty to be found,” Magda said softly, “even amongst so much decay and ugliness.”

“I agree, but unfortunately the two of you are blocking my view,” came a snide, raspy voice somewhere from the shadows behind them.

The girls spun around to see a pair of large, yellow eyes glaring out at them.

“Who are you?” Magda demanded.

“No, the question is, who are you?  I guess it doesn’t really matter though.  Looks like I get to dine at home tonight.”  The thing moved a little closer while speaking to them, and its dirty face broke through the darkness to give them a better look.  It was a werewolf.  He was changing right before their eyes.

Abigail shrieked, and Magda let out a defiant grunt, stepping back into a defensive stance and bracing for the monster’s attack.

“Stay behind me, Abby,” she said while raising her daggers.  But before her words were finished, Abigail lunged forward with her Chinese chain whip; striking out with every bit of fury and strength she had left.

The creature let out a sharp yelp before tumbling to the floor.  The whip had gone straight through its right eye.

Abigail yanked the chain back angrily while Magda stared at her with wide eyes and an open mouth.

“I don’t care much for werewolves,” Abigail explained in a shaken voice.

“I can see that.  Hey, look there.”  She pointed to the end of the whip lying at Abby’s feet.  The werewolf’s yellow eye was still stuck to the dart at the end.

“OH GROSS!  STUPID WEREWOLVES ARE SO DISGUSTING!”  Abby yelled, trying several times to whip the thing off, but it was no use.  She finally stepped down upon it and pulled the whip free, and then kicked the eye off into the darkness.

She looked back at Magda, who was grinning at her with pride and bewilderment.  Abigail just frowned at her and shrugged.

“You kill monsters well,” Magda told her.

“Thanks,” sighed Abigail, standing with crossed legs.  “I…I suddenly need to pee.”

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Spirited Away

Alucard lay on the cold stone of the dungeon floor.  Only a bit of light came in from beneath the door, shed by a nearby torch on the wall.  It served as a constant reminder that he had no idea what time it was, and whether day or night he could not tell.  The air was stale and rank, making each breath seem like a filthy chore.  He was bruised and naked, and was beginning to lose all hope of escaping.  He’d been in this cell for days and days, how many he could not tell, with nothing more than Mihnea’s parting words ringing through his head to keep him company.  “I’ve got wonderful plans for you, little brother.  Father never got the chance, but I know what he had planned for you, and now you’re blood is mine!”

Alucard wasn’t afraid of dying, in fact, perhaps that was long overdue.  What he was afraid of was failing his friends, and allowing Mihnea to obtain greater power.  He searched his thoughts once again for any bit of knowledge, any forgotten thing that might help him escape, but once again he could think of nothing.

The dungeon of Castle Dracula was held together with more than simple mortar and stone.  This was a place protected by all sorts of dark magic.  Alucard knew that greater men and creatures than he had tried and failed to escape from its depths.  Some invisible force was even preventing him from changing form.  Every time he tried, a wave of agony swept over him, and he would pass out, awaking later to find himself covered in a cold sweat.

His mind kept turning to Elizabeth, a woman whom he’d never met, but had set out to help.  He had failed her.  The thought tortured him.  He didn’t know what she looked like, but every time he thought of her he pictured his own mother.  He couldn’t allow Elizabeth to end up like her.  He only hoped that Mihnea loved her enough to prevent any harm from befalling her until he could escape.

Escape?  There it was again.  Hope.  Gnawing away at him like a rat on an old bone.  He closed his eyes and began to pray.  When he was a boy, he’d spent hours alone with his mother in prayer.  Now, it was the only thing that gave him comfort.

After a while, he heard the rattling of chains.  It was probably Igor, one of his father’s many failed experiments, who’d been assigned to feed him.  He was an inhuman, detestable creature both in nature and appearance, but he was loyal, you had to give him that.  He had first served his creator, and now he served the man’s heir.  He held Alucard in high regard, although he would never side with him against his greater master.

Twice a day he would bring a meal of roasted rats, dried bugs, or some other disgusting thing.  In Igor’s eyes these meals were delicious, and bringing such things to Alucard was one of the creature’s rare displays of kindness.

Alucard listened.  Although he’d heard the familiar rattle of Igor’s chains, he didn’t hear the usual scrape they made as the creature dragged them across the floor.  Now he heard something different; was it the sound of footsteps?  He couldn’t be sure.

An ear-piercing screech ripped him out of his thoughts and caused him to sit up in shock.  The door to his cell had been ripped from its hinges.  There was a terrible light, which burned his eyes, and he had to shield them from it.  After a few moments the light subsided, and he looked to see a tall form standing in front of him.

“Who…who are you?” he asked in a raspy voice, moving his hands away from his eyes.

“I was sent to give you a hand,” said the stranger.  “Looks like you really got yourself into a pickle this time.  The Captain was right, there’s no way you could have gotten out of here on your own.”  The stranger smiled and turned to leave.

“Wait,” pleaded Alucard.  “Thank you.  Please, tell me your name.”

The stranger hesitated and shook his head.  “It doesn’t matter.  We’ll meet again someday, I’ll tell you then.”

Before Alucard could say another word, the man was gone, and he was left sitting alone in his cell once again, but this time he was free.

Michael beat on the door with both his fists until his hands were bleeding.

“Look, it’s obvious that we aren’t getting through that door,” Liam told him.  “I’m sure the girls will be fine.  That Magda seems like a pretty tough girl.”

Michael gritted his teeth.  “This place is an absolute nightmare.  I never actually believed we’d be separated.  It’s like the castle itself is working against us.”

“I think you might be right.  This place sure feels different from McGinty Castle, or any other castle I’ve been in, really.  I feel like we’re constantly being watched.”

Michael put on his backpack and slung his bow over his shoulder.

“Let’s try and find another path to the throne room.  We need to get there as quick as we can, hopefully we’ll meet the girls on the way.”

Liam picked up his things, which were scattered across the floor.

He held up Michael’s faery lantern so they could have a good look around.  A long purple carpet ran the length of the room from door to door.  Large tapestries hung from the walls on both sides, which portrayed scenes of knights going on a unicorn hunt.

Together the boys walked along the wall to the right hand side of the door where they’d come in, following it around the corner and down the long wall.  When they came to the third tapestry, Michael noticed that some of the cobwebs were dancing gently through the air.  He hadn’t noticed this anywhere else.  Placing his hand near the wall, he could feel a draft of cool air.

He showed Liam.  “Put your hand right here, can you feel it?”

Liam nodded.

The two of them pulled the tapestry away from the wall to look behind.  There didn’t appear to be anything unusual, just solid brick.

“I don’t see anything, but where is this draft coming from?”  Michael let his end of the tapestry swing back against the wall, and so did Liam.

“Wait a minute,” Liam said, stooping down to the floor.  “What do you make of this?”

Michael bent down to take a closer look.  There was something unusual about the bricks.  It was barely noticeable, but they didn’t line up as smoothly as the others around them.

“I think this might be a passageway,” Liam said excitedly.

Michael was about to ask him how he knew, but then realized how stupid that would be.  Liam had grown up in a castle, after all.

“Yes, he said happily.  “I can feel the draft much stronger here, it’s coming up through the floor.”

Michael felt it too.  “Okay, now we just need to figure out how to activate it.”

They looked all around, but couldn’t find anything unusual.

“There has to be something nearby.  It wouldn’t make sense for the switch to be more than a few feet away.”  Michael ran his fingers along the brick wall.  He yanked on a torch holder, which was fastened securely; it wouldn’t budge.

Liam held the lantern up above his head.

“Hey, look up there.  The chain that’s holding up this tapestry doesn’t look quite like the others.”

Michael could see what he was talking about.  The difference was subtle, but the chain that held the tapestry in front of them wasn’t just secured to the wall, it looked like it was run through the brick.

They each grabbed an edge and pulled down.  A moment later, the bricks in the floor began to sink down into a spiral stairway.

Michael frowned.  “Well, I don’t know if we’re going to like where this leads us, but at least it’s a way out.”

Liam popped a fresh clip into his gun.  “Let’s get going then.  But I have a feeling we’re taking the long way to the throne room.”

Michael took the lead as they crept down the stairs, which seemed to go on and on.  They couldn’t see very far ahead, and tried to stay as quiet as possible to avoid giving any enemy a heads up.  Michael wondered what might be waiting for them at the bottom, and if there was anything, he hoped to get the jump on it rather than the other way around.

Upon reaching the bottom, they found themselves in some kind of dungeon.

“Well, this place looks cheerful,” Liam said glumly.  “I’m glad we signed up for the extended tour.”

Michael gazed down into the dark chamber as far as his eyes would take him.  There were barred iron doors along both sides.  “You just reloaded that gun, right?”

“Yup,” Liam nodded.

“Let’s do it then,” Michael said, starting forward.  “Who knows, we might be pleasantly surprised by where this takes us.”

“Someplace cheery, I hope,” agreed Liam.  “The petting-zoo perhaps?”

The blue rays of Michael’s faery lantern devoured the blackness around them.  He wondered how long it had been since any sort of light had touched these walls.  The air was dank and stale.  Everything was quiet except for the sound of their breathing and the falls of their feet.

Movement caught Michael’s eye as they were passing one of the cells.  He stopped and turned his head to see the large form of a man standing behind the bars, gazing out at them.  He was dark and muscular, and altogether ugly.  His skin had a sick, greenish hue, and his clothes were torn and tattered.  Like some grotesque human quilting project, his body was littered with sloppy looking stitch marks.  He smiled maliciously, and reached up to grab the bars with both hands, shaking them violently.  The horrible sound rang through the dungeon, and from the way the loose cage door clanked against the stone, it was evident that this man, if you could call him that, had been trying to shake them loose for quite some time.

Liam began to pull his friend away.  “Uh, I don’t feel like being around when that bloke finally succeeds at taking those bars down.”

Together they tore past the cells, speeding through strange shadows and sounds as they went, never daring to slow down and take a look.  After a while, Michael felt certain that something was chasing them, but he kept running as fast as he could without looking back until they came to another stairwell at the end of the passage.

Finally turning to look, they were both relieved to see that the coast was clear.  “I wonder how long that thing has been locked up down here?” Michael sputtered through heavy breaths.  “You want to rest for a minute?”

Liam, leaning over with his hands upon his knees, simply shook his head.  “Let’s keep going, I think I’ve had enough of this dungeon.”  He put his hand up to his head as if he had a headache and added, “Not that what we find up there will be any better than what’s down here.”

They plodded up the stairs, which looked just like the ones they’d come down a few minutes before.  At least they were headed up again, thought Michael.  Although the going was slow and their legs were tired, they eventually emerged in a rather unexpected place.

They found themselves in a small, oddly decorated room with a wooden table in the center.  Strange objects surrounded them on all sides.  Michael’s heart skipped a beat when he noticed a large creature looming above them, but he was relieved to see it was only a taxidermic bear.  Two stuffed wolves stood near its feet, lips snarled in anger and tongues hanging out.  There were other hunting trophies scattered across the room, and some of the creatures were strange and unfamiliar, but all were covered with dust and cobwebs.

Liam examined a nearby shelf, which held some books and trinkets.  There was a crystal ball, some tarot cards, and a moldy, dark book with the words Necronomicon and Abdul Alhazred etched upon its cover.  Another old book, entitled Book of Coming Forth by Day was laying beside a skeletal hand, which rested upon a dirty crimson pillow.  For a moment, he thought he’d seen it twitch.

“This is an evil place,” Liam said, turning to Michael.  “We need to get out of this room, I don’t like being in here.”

Michael could see that his friend suddenly looked pale.  “This whole castle is an evil place,” he agreed.  “The Dragon said it used to be good and welcoming.  It’s amazing that one wicked man could do so much to corrupt it.”  He walked to the door and tried to turn the handle.  It was locked.

“Oh come ON,” Michael yelled in frustration.  “The first thing I’m going to do after I get out of here is learn to pick a lock.”

“Hey, look at this.”  Liam was standing over the table in the center of the room.  He plunked down in one of the dusty chairs, which caused it to creak painfully.  Michael stood behind him, waving the dust away, and looking over his shoulder.

“What is that thing?” Michael asked him apprehensively.

“I’ve seen something like this before, though I was warned not to play with it.  It’s called a spirit board.  You use it to speak to the dead.”

Michael definitely didn’t like the sound of that.  He watched as Liam enthusiastically brushed the dust and cobwebs away.  The board was beautiful and intricate, crafted from some kind of heavy wood, with pieces of bone or ivory inlaid as designs.  Rows of letters and numbers were stretched across in an arch.  In the center at the top was an image of an angel wrestling with a demon- their arms interlocked in struggle.  To the left and right at the top were images of the sun and moon, but they each had the face of an angry human skeleton.  In the center of the board was the thin outline of a pentagram with flames rising from the top.

The board gave Michael a very uneasy feeling.  He wasn’t sure if he believed one could talk to the dead through some dusty old piece of wood.  It didn’t make any sense.  The more he looked at the thing however, the greater he felt his stomach tighten.  He glanced back at Liam, who seemed to be fixated on it.

“Come on,” said Michael, placing a hand on his shoulder.  “We need to keep moving.  We have to find a way out of here.”

Liam didn’t budge.

Michael sighed in frustration and turned to resume his search for a way out.

“What if…” Liam began, turning his eyes to Michael with a hopeful smile.  “What if we could speak to my mum?  Maybe she could help us.  Maybe she could tell us how to get out of here and up to the throne room?”

“I thought you said you’d been warned not to use these things.  What about this place having an ‘evil’ feel, remember all that?”

“Sure I do, but how else are we going to get out of here?  That door is locked.”

“We can go back down to the dungeon, try to find another way up from there.”

Liam sat up straight in his chair.  “And then what?  This whole castle is an absolute nightmare.  It’s full of traps and dead ends.  What if this is our best chance?”

Michael wasn’t convinced.  He didn’t like the looks of that board, and he didn’t like the looks of the books, the animals, or the other freaky things scattered around the room.  Liam was right, this place did feel evil, even more so than other parts of the castle.

“Spirit boards like this have been used for bad things, but what if we use it for good.  What if we use it to talk to my mum?  Ask her for help?  What could be wrong about doing that?”

Michael didn’t have an answer for him.  Maybe he was right; maybe they could use the board for good, even if it had been used for dark purposes in the past.

“Alright,” he said.  “If you’re sure you know what you’re doing.”

Liam looked a bit scared.  “Actually, I don’t know all that well what I’m doing.  I’ve never used one of these before, but I have seen someone do it.  He put his hands on the heart-shaped wooden indicator on top of the board.  Michael sat down beside him and placed his hands upon it too.

“So, what do we do now?” Michael asked him.

“Just let it guide your hands.  It moves itself.”

They waited for something to happen, but the piece didn’t move.

“Is anyone there?” asked Liam softly.  “We want to speak to my mum.  Mum, can you hear us?”

Still nothing happened.

“I don’t think it’s going to work,” Michael told him.

“Just wait and see.”

A few moments later the indicator began to move slowly around, assuming a figure eight pattern across the board.

Michael was stunned; it actually seemed to be working.  He looked at Liam, expecting him to speak, but he looked too surprised to talk.

“Is this Liam’s mother?” he asked.

The indicator seemed to slow down a bit, and then made another pass before coming to a rest on the Yes.

Liam beamed at Michael excitedly as the indicator resumed its pattern around the board.  He smiled back hopefully.

“Mum,” Liam said in a shaky voice, “I’m sorry I’ve never talked to you before.  I didn’t know I would ever be able to speak to you like this.”

The indicator slowed again as if it were thinking, but then continued its course around the board.  The scraping sound it made as it glided was calming and hypnotic.

“Is it peaceful where you are?” Liam asked.  “Are you happy there?”

Again, the indicator slowed down a bit before coming to a rest on the No.

Liam looked shocked.  In fact, he suddenly looked as if he were about to cry.

Michael frowned at him.  “Is there anything we can do to help you?”

Yes the board answered.

“Well, what is it?”  Liam demanded.

The indicator began moving faster, slowing down and stopping over each letter before moving on to the next.  B-U-R-N-C-A-S-T-L-E-D-O-W-N it spelled before resuming the figure eight pattern.

“Burn the castle down?”  Liam looked up at Michael in confusion.  “You want us to burn this castle down?”

The board took a moment to respond.  No.

Liam looked lost.  “I don’t get it.”

Michael could think of only one other castle she might be talking about.

“Are you saying,” he asked slowly, “that you want us to burn McGinty Castle down?”

The indicator slowed.  Yes.

The two boys looked at each other in silence.  Michael couldn’t imagine Liam’s mother telling them to burn McGinty Castle down.  It just didn’t make any sense.

“Can you tell us how to get out of here?” Michael asked.  “Do you know how we can get up to the throne room?”

The indicator stopped.  It lay still for a few long moments, and just as Michael opened his mouth to speak again it resumed its pattern.  Yes.

They waited patiently as the board communicated its message.  T-U-R-N-H-A-N-D-L-E-T-E-N-S-E-C-O-N-D-C-L-I-C-K.

It took them a few minutes of asking questions before they figured out this meant they were to turn the door handle and hold it for ten seconds before it would click open.

“And once we get out, where do we go from there?” Liam asked.

L-E-F-T-E-N-D-O-F-H-A-L-L-R-I-G-H-T-G-O-U-P-E-N-D-O-F-H-A-L-L-B-A-L-L-R-O-O-M.

These directions required some clarification as well.  But in the end they determined that they needed to exit the room, take a left, go down to the end of the hall, take a right, go up the staircase, go to the end of the hall, and enter a ballroom.

“Alright, we’ve got the directions,” Michael told Liam encouragingly.  “We need to get going now.”

Liam nodded.  “Mum, I’ll talk to you again soon.  Thanks for your help.  I love you, and I miss you.”

M-E-2, the indicator spelled, and then it stopped.

Liam turned his face away from Michael and wiped his eyes with his sleeves.

“At least you know how to talk to her now,” Michael sympathized, moving toward the door.  Liam nodded.

Michael took hold of the door handle and turned.  He held it and began counting.  After twelve seconds, for he must have been counting a bit fast, the lock clicked and the handle finished turning.  Michael swung the door open and they shed some light out into the hallway.  It was dusty and unkempt, but compared to the little room, looked inviting.  Michael took a deep breath.  Only now did he realize how tight his stomach had been while they were trapped in that room.

Together they crept out, turned left and hurried to the end of the hall.  Just as the board had indicated, there was a staircase on their right.  The wooden steps creaked loudly as they went up, causing a shiver to run up Michael’s spine.  The less noise they made, the better.

The top of the stairway opened up into a hall much like the one they’d just come from.  They continued to move as silently as possible, passing closed doors and side-stepping the cobwebs, until they reached a large set of double doors at the end.

“Looks like we’re on the right track,” Liam whispered.

Michael nodded as they pushed the doors open.  The empty ballroom that spread out before them sucked up their light like a vast underground cave.

“This place is humungous!” Liam said loudly.

“Bring it down,” Michael reminded him, waving his hand up and down.  If there was anything alive in here he wanted to be able to hear it coming.

“Sorry,” Liam whispered back.  “Well, where do we go from here?  Straight through to the other end I suppose?”

Michael shrugged and then nodded.  Liam’s mother hadn’t told them what to do once they’d reached the ballroom.  The answer would probably be obvious once they found it.

Despite their efforts to remain silent, every little sound they made echoed off the walls around them.  There were no hanging tapestries or rugs to catch the noise in here, it looked like any such decorations had been removed long ago.  The place smelled stale and ashy.  Along the sides of the room were some old busts, many of them broken and laying in pieces upon the floor, but those remaining had dark discoloration.  Michael moved closer to the right wall and saw similar discolorations going up the tall stone wall.  They were scorch marks.  There had been a great fire in here at some point, long ago.

“Do you hear that?” Liam asked him.  They’d both come to a stop without realizing it.  Michael stood still and listened.

He shook his head.  “Hear what?”

Liam raised his eyebrows and smirked.  “I think I hear music.”

Michael wasn’t in the mood for jokes.  “Very funny.  Let’s just keep moving.”

Liam reached out and caught him by the arm.  “I’m serious.  Just stand still and listen.”

For a moment he couldn’t hear anything, but suddenly there it was.  He nodded.

“It’s harpsichord music.” Liam said.

Michael nodded in agreement.

The music was growing steadily louder.  Michael’s eyes grew wide as he noticed that the place was beginning to light up all around them.  Like the music, it started off subtly, barely noticeable.  The sound and the glow intensified together, speeding up at a disorienting rate until the entire ballroom erupted into festivity.  Ghostly torches and hundreds of candles lit up the room with an ethereal green light.

Michael could now hear other stringed instruments accompanying the harpsichord.  Men and women in elegant renaissance clothing danced across the floor to the music, their translucent forms gliding like sheets in the wind.  The white, glittering form of a woman came spinning toward Michael and stopped to bow just a few feet away.  She had a pointed nose and her hair was in a bun behind her head.  She looked stunning, and Michael could smell her flowery perfume as she reached out to take his hand.  Instinctively, he lifted it to hers just as the form of a tall gentleman in military garb passed through him from behind to meet her.  It felt like being immersed in freezing water.

Michael shivered, and stumbled away from another couple that came twirling toward him.  He had no desire for any more of these entities to pass through him.  He bumped into Liam and turned to see a look of fascination and fright on his face.

“IT’S AMAZING,” Michael shouted over the music, which seemed unusually loud for a harpsichord.  He felt like he’d been thrust into a rock concert.  Many of the people were talking and laughing with one another, which only added to the noise, but Michael couldn’t understand anything they were saying.

After a few minutes of observing the ethereal dancers, the boys began to move once again toward the back of the room, jumping this way and that to avoid another collision.  They succeeded most of the time, but it was still a shock whenever Michael felt one of the spirits go through him, like having ice water pass through his body.

As they approached the back of the room, an orange glow could be seen emanating from the hearth of a large fireplace.  Michael could hear the crackle of the wood and feel the warmth radiating toward him.  He was cold, and imagined how comforting it would be to get closer to the flames.  He moved as quickly as he could toward the fire, glancing nervously behind him to make sure Liam was keeping up.  He turned just in time to see a shocked look on his face as a short pudgy woman spun through the left side of his body.

A few dozen feet away from the fire the harpsichord player sat gleefully pounding at the keys.  Two other minstrels stood behind him, one with a tall harp and the other with a lute.  All three of them smiled and swayed as they played their incorporeal instruments.

The lute player took a step aside as the large kitchen door opened up behind him.  Ghostly servants with heaping platters of food filed out of the doorway and placed them down on banquet tables on the far side of the fireplace.  With them came the faint smell of roasted meat and other enticing scents.  Michael’s mouth began to water, but as they approached the hearth he got a better look at the food, and was disappointed to see a feast composed of nothing more than dim green light.

You wouldn’t have been stupid enough to eat it even if it had been real food, he thought to himself.

Liam stood beside him looking disappointed as well.  Even through all the noise Michael thought he heard his friend’s stomach growl.

The minstrels finished their song, and began to play a less jovial tune while a horde of guests approached the tables.  Before long, turkey legs and goblets of wine were being waved through the air amidst the now louder clamor of conversation.

“So where do we go now?” Liam asked in a raised voice.  “The only way out of here that I can see is through those kitchen doors.”

Michael pointed off into the corner behind the banquet tables.  “That stairway looks like it goes up into the balcony, but I think you’re right about going through the kitchen, we should see where that leads first.”

They reluctantly moved away from the warmth of the spectral fire, maneuvering around a gentleman with a long braided beard who was leaning against the wall, casually raising his drink to a woman who looked much more enthused than he did.

Liam took the handle of the kitchen door, and began to pull it open when something took hold from the other side.  It yanked the door shut and they heard a commotion from within.  The two boys looked at each other with worried faces.  Together they began to yank on the door as hard as they could, but it wouldn’t budge.  Once again, they were trapped.

Suddenly, a loud male voice boomed out from the front of the room.  Michael couldn’t understand what the man was saying, although there was one word he thought he recognized- Vlad.

The people in the ballroom parted and began cheering and raising their glasses to whomever it was the man had just announced, and then they became silent.  They were obviously listening to someone speak, but Michael couldn’t hear anything.  He looked at Liam, who shook his head and shrugged back at him.

They moved through the crowd once again to try and get a better look.  It proved impossible to do so without passing through some of the ghostly figures, but this didn’t stop them.  They were determined to get a look at who was speaking.  Occasionally, the crowd would laugh or cheer at something they’d heard, but apart from that they continued to listen intently.

The boys reached the front of the crowd and gazed into the large circle that had been cleared for the speaker.  Just as they’d heard no one speaking, they saw no one standing before them.

“I’ve got a bad feeling about this,” Liam whispered.  Michael nodded gloomily.

After a few moments, the specters all laughed uproariously, and the crowd near the front door parted once again.  The doors swung open and people quickly resumed their conversations, raising their goblets and chattering excitedly, smiling and looking up toward the front of the room.

Michael, who had found the face of the beautiful woman he’d encountered when it all began, watched as her gleeful smile abruptly changed to a look of fear.  There were grumblings, a woman screamed, and the front door of the ballroom slammed shut with a resounding boom that made Michael jump.

“Let’s go,” he told Liam, and began to run toward the back.

“Go where?”

“Up the stairs I guess.  Maybe there’s a way out from the balcony.”

They sprinted toward the circular staircase, but when they were nearly there, Michael felt Liam’s hand grab ahold of his shoulder and pull him back.

“Wait,” he said frantically, “look up there!”

From the balcony along the back wall, large cauldrons of misty liquid began to be poured down upon the crowd below.

“LOOK, it’s coming from the sides as well,” Liam yelled.

Michael watched as the last few bits of liquid and the cauldrons that held it were dropped from above.  They heard crunching and gong-like sounds all around them, and watched as the terrified specter of the harpsichord player dodge out of he way as his instrument was reduced to glittering splinters beneath the cauldron.

Fire had begun to spread through the room even before the torches were dropped from the balcony.  Michael and Liam soon found themselves surrounded by waist-high ethereal flames.  The ghostly figures, which had only minutes ago been so festive and carefree, were now running chaotically in all directions, unable to escape the horror of being roasted alive.  Michael stumbled backward onto the floor as the figures passed through him.  Instead of the freezing sensation he had gotten before, he now felt burning each time one ran through him.  It was unbearable, and as the misty green images swirled around, his head began to pound from the horrible screams of the poor souls who were dying on every side.

He heard himself call out to Liam as his head thudded down against the floor.  He couldn’t take the heat; it was as if his very soul were on fire.  His eyes began to close, and the last thing he saw was a large, dark figure drop through the swirling green flames above.  He was jerked up, and felt his limp body being dragged through the air as the screaming faded away beneath him.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Reunions

Michael opened his eyes to the twinkling of lights.  Candles, he thought, hundreds of tiny candles.  They all blurred into the image of an engulfing fire as he jerked himself awake.  What a horrible nightmare.  His body began to shake, and he wiped at his eyes trying to get his vision to clear.

No…they were stars.  The night sky opened up all around him.  He pulled himself to a sitting position and gazed at the yellow crescent moon hanging off in the distance.  Liam was lying on the ground beside him, taking in the short breaths of a troubled sleep.  Scanning the darkness, he gulped to see a black figure leaning against the parapet castle wall.

“How are you feeling?” the man asked him.

Suddenly, everything came flooding back to him.

“I feel…kind of like someone just tried to cook me.”

The stranger took a few steps toward him.  Instinctively, Michael began to push himself away, coming to a stop when his back hit the wall.  Detecting his fear, the man stopped and pulled something out of his cloak.

“I think this belongs to you.”

It was Michael’s faery lantern, and its light turned the pale face of the man standing before him blue.

“Alucard,” Michael said excitedly.  “You’re the one who pulled us out of that fire?”

“You and your friend barely made it out of that ballroom with your lives.  It was a very unlucky place to have wandered into.”

“Luck had nothing to do with it.  We spoke with Liam’s mother on a spirit board and she told us it was the way to the throne room.”

“I doubt it was your friend’s mother you spoke to.  Hasn’t anyone ever warned you about the evils of divination?”

Michael looked down to the floor.  “Liam said those boards were dangerous, we just figured that maybe we could use it for good.  We weren’t trying to do anything bad with it.”

“Most people don’t intend any harm when they dabble with such things.  But they soon find themselves dealing with forces they have no control over, as you discovered tonight.  You would be wise to avoid such evil in the future.”

“I will, I promise. But where’ve you been for the last few days?” Michael asked him.

Alucard sat down in front of him.  “I’ve been a prisoner here in the castle.  My brother saw to it that I had no means of escape.  I’ve not been able to help your friend Elizabeth.  I’m sorry I failed you Michael.”

“Well you’re here now.  I’m glad you’re all right.  But, how did you escape anyway?”

“An angel came and ripped the door off my cell,” he said.

“An angel?” Michael asked skeptically.  He’d seen many strange beings in this place, but no angels.

Alucard nodded and offered him a bottle of water.  “And now we need to finish the work that destiny has set before us.  Tell me everything you can.  How did you get here, and who came with you?”

Michael recounted everything he could remember, going back to the day Alucard had disappeared.  He had many questions, and Michael found himself backtracking to fill in details he’d forgotten.  Alucard’s eyes lit up when Michael told him they’d met the Dragon.

“Yeah,” Michael told him.  “He’s been a prisoner in this castle all along, and we saved him.  He tried his best to get that lance for us, Ascalon he called it, but we lost him as he fought that fish creature Dagon, and we didn’t know how to help him.”

“It’s not your fault, Michael.  You did the right thing to protect your sister and the Van Helsing girl.  None of you were any match for Dagon.”  His eyes wandered off and came to settle on the moon.  “If only he’d been able to get that lance….  But, perhaps it’s not too late.  I’m familiar with those caverns, and I know where Dagon’s lair is.  He won’t give me the weapon willingly, though he considers me a prince.”

Michael could see that Alucard was torn.  Should he try to retrieve the lance and find the fate of the Dragon, or go with Michael to find the girls and confront Mihnea?

Alucard shook his head.  “If only we had more time.  I’m not the best swimmer, and those caverns are deep.  I’m going to need to be better prepared before heading down there.  We’ll have to forget about the lance for now, and leave the Dragon to whatever fate has befallen him.”

“Alucard, there’s one more thing I think you should know.  I mean, it’s not really my place to tell you, but I think you deserve to have the truth.”

Alucard nodded and waited expectantly.

“The Dragon, he’s your grandfather.”

“What?” Alucard asked, as if he were waiting for a punch line.

“It’s true.  His real name is Vlad II Dracul.  He seemed remorseful when I talked to him about you, said there were a lot of things he never got to share.”

Michael watched as Alucard worked it all out in his head.  “Thank you, Michael,” he sighed.  I’m glad you told me, but it doesn’t change anything.  I’d still never be able to retrieve that lance or help him in time.  We need to focus on Mihnea now and rescue your friends while we still have the chance.”

“Maybe I can help,” Liam said, sitting up beside them and rubbing his head.

“It’s about time you woke up,” Michael told him while Alucard offered him water.

“I’ve been awake for a few minutes, laying there looking at the two of you.  Maybe I’m the best spy here.”  He took a long drink of water.  “That hits the spot.  Thanks,” he told Alucard, handing back the bottle.  “Anyway, something was said about the need for a proficient swimmer?”

Alucard raised his eyebrows.  “Thanks for the offer, but it’s going to take more than a good swimmer to get through those waterways.”

“You don’t understand,” Michael chuckled.  “Liam’s not just a good swimmer, from what I’ve heard, he’s an excellent swimmer.”

The kitchens of Dracula were truly something to behold.  The place looked more like a slaughterhouse than any kitchen Michael had ever seen.  Dark stains discolored the floor and counters, and a large pile of bones littered a far corner of the room.  One wall held several human sized cages.

Alucard led them to a place where a number of large pots and cauldrons were stacked.  Behind them was the circular, stone wall of a well.

Liam peaked over the wall and looked down, seeing nothing but blackness.  He dropped a torch and watched as it fell away into the distance, eventually disappearing without a sound.

“Are you mad?” he winced at Alucard.  “You’re suggesting that we just leap right into this thing?  That’s your bloody plan?”

Michael held his lantern over the hole and looked in himself.  Even with the faery light they couldn’t see the bottom.

“This looks pretty deep, alright,” Michael said with a nervous chuckle.  “I mean, who could be expected to draw water from here anyway?  It would take all day just to pull up one bucket.”

“Cruel masters care nothing for the comfort of their slaves,” Alucard told him.  “Service in the kitchens of Dracula has always been a thankless task, but this well should grant us the fastest access to the waters beneath the castle.”

“Should?  What do you mean should?” Liam squeaked.

Michael offered him the lantern.  “Here, you’re going to need this a lot more than me,” he said.

Liam shook his head.  “You’re going to need that just as much as we are, you’d better keep it.”

“Look, getting that lance back might be the best chance we have at stopping Mihnea,” Michael pushed the lantern into his hands and snatched his remaining torch.  “Besides, I know how dark it is down there.  Trust me, you’ll need this more than I will.”

Alucard removed his cape and boots.  “Be careful Michael.  Be sure to carefully follow the directions I gave you, and don’t stray from them.  There are many deceptions and snares in this castle, and once you get off course you most likely won’t find your way back.”

“Thanks.  I’ll be careful, and I’ll follow the directions.”  Michael noticed the worried look on Liam’s face.

“I hate to see you go off on your own like this,” he placed his hand on Michael’s shoulder.  “Not in this place.  Will you be alright?”

“I’ll be fine,” Michael assured him.  “Just get back as fast as you can, okay?”

“We’ll meet you in the throne room,” Alucard told him.  “If everything goes well, we shouldn’t be far behind you.  Are you ready?” he asked Liam.  “This might be a bit disorienting.”

“Sure,” Liam said cheerfully.  “I’ll just think of it as a theme park ride.  That ought to work.”

“Good luck, Michael,” Alucard told him.  “And Godspeed.”

Without another word, Alucard snatched Liam up and leapt into the well.  Michael watched as they dropped out of sight, and listened to Liam’s frightened yell echo up for a while after they’d disappeared.

“All right,” he said with a slow breath, holding his torch out before him.  “I’d better be off.”  He tried to remember a time in his life when he’d been this scared, but he couldn’t think of one.

Magda Van Helsing peered from the shadows to make sure the coast was clear.

“We’re almost there,” she whispered to Abigail.  “That’s the throne room just up ahead, it has to be.”

“So what do we do now?  Wait here, or go in to take a look around?”

Magda thought about it for a moment.  “We need to get a closer look at that chamber- see if anyone else has arrived yet.  It won’t do us any good to hang back in the shadows, we might never meet up with anyone that way.”

Abigail nodded in agreement.  “Okay, I’ll be right behind you.”

Together, they gingerly crept down the hallway, keeping close to the wall.  Magda held aloft her daggers, and Abigail’s chain whip was curled up in her hand.  Both girls were ready to strike at a moment’s notice.  They heard and saw nothing while approaching the door, and Magda cautiously peaked around the corner, holding her breath as she scanned the room.  It looked empty, but she still wasn’t convinced.

“Wait here for a moment,” she whispered, and Abigail nodded.  Magda quickly scanned the room again before leaping into a somersault and scrambling behind the closest pillar.  She inspected the room from her hiding place, relieved to see that no one else was around.  Standing to her feet, she waved for Abigail to come over, and a few seconds later the girl was hiding behind her.

This was definitely the right place.  In the center of the room was a large iron throne.  It was a fascinating thing, designed to look like a fierce, roaring dragon, with its wings spread out wide.  Its arms were the armrests, and its clawed hands looked strong and ready for battle.  The beast’s tail wrapped around the throne several times, forming steps that led up to the seat.

Magda pointed out two stone obelisks a few dozen feet in front of the throne, which were also carved in the shape of dragons.  “That must be the gateway,” she said.

Abigail nodded.  “Michael said the gateway in the Tomb of Anubis appeared between two Obelisks kind of like those.  Have you got any ideas on how to destroy it?”

Magda shrugged.  “I have no idea.  I guess I need the sword, but we’ll have to wait until Mihnea shows up with it and get it back somehow.  For now, we’ll just have to stay out of sight.”

Abigail ran her fingers through her hair, trying to brush away the remaining cobwebs she’d picked up along the way.  “I hope Michael and Liam are okay.  I’d really hoped my dad and his friends would be here too.  I wonder what happened to them.”

“I don’t know, Abby,” Magda put her arm over the girl’s shoulder, pulling her in close.  “I wish they were all here with us, but I’m proud of you for being so brave through this, and if your family was here I know they’d be proud of you too.”

“Thanks,” Abigail told her, squeezing tightly.  “You’re a really great friend, I’m sorry I attacked you- back at the orphanage I mean.”

Magda chuckled.  “Don’t worry about it, I attacked you back, remember?”

Abigail smiled.  “Yeah, that’s true I guess.  Let’s never fight like that again, okay?”

“That’s the best idea I’ve heard all day.”

A sour frown suddenly spread across Abigail’s face.  “Gross, look at that picture!”

Magda followed her eyes to the tapestry hanging on the wall in front of the throne.  It was the image of an armored warrior on a white horse.  Behind him were people impaled on spikes, and a familiar looking castle rose up in the background.

“Dracula,” Magda whispered in disgust.  “Though that monster is dead, his legacy remains.  But not for long Abby, not for long.”

“And you think that you’re the one to put an end to it, do you?” the mocking voice of Mihnea echoed through the chamber.

Magda’s heart began to pound.  “Show yourself,” she called to him.  “Or are you too frightened to face us?”

He only laughed again.  “I can smell your fear, Magda Van Helsing.  It smells almost as tempting as your blood, but I have something very special in store for the two of you.”

Magda suddenly caught sight of him.  He was leaning over the balcony peering down at them.  Elizabeth stood at his side and waved at them cheerfully.

Confusion and fear washed over Abigail’s face.  “Elizabeth?  But I thought th-that—”

“That she was safe?” Mihnea finished for her.  “That she was rescued by your father and his two idiot friends?  No, I’m afraid she’s been with me all along, and I’m happy to report that my influence over her is absolute.  I’ve achieved powers that even my father would envy.  I wish he could see me now, he’d be so proud.”  He leaned over and planted a kiss on Elizabeth’s cheek.

“Mihnea said you’d be putting on a little show for us,” she called down to them.  “I’m so excited, you guys are the best!”

Abigail stared at Elizabeth helplessly.  “But…the werewolf guards—”

“I killed them myself.  I needed to make your father believe that Alucard had reached her first.  My plan worked, and I’m sure you’ll be pleased to hear that he and his friends promptly left.  They’re trapped outside the perimeter of the castle and I’m afraid they won’t be joining us.”

“AND MICHAEL AND LIAM?” Abigail screamed, “WHAT HAVE YOU DONE WITH THEM?”

“Ah yes, of course, how inconsiderate of me to forget.  Those two were much too curious for their own good, I’m afraid.  Burned to death, the both of them.”  He gave them a sympathetic grin.

Both girls began to sob, clinging to each other tightly.

“I don’t believe you,” Abigail wailed.  “You’re LYING!”

Mihnea shook his head.  “I have no reason to lie to you girls, but I’m afraid you’re beginning to bore me, so let’s move on with our day, shall we?  Abigail, you’re one of us now.  You can stay here with Elizabeth and I; we’ll make a good family.  I can feel the struggle going on within you.  Join us, my dear.  Kill Magda, and your transformation will be complete.”

“NEVER,” Abigail screamed, shaking her fists at him.  “I’M NOT A VAMPIRE!  I’M NOT, AND I NEVER WILL BE!”

“It is too late, Abigail. My blood is in your veins.”

“SO IS MINE!”

“I’m going to kill you,” Magda wept.  “For what you’ve done to Michael, and to Olaf, and to everyone else you’ve hurt!  I’m going to make you pay, or I’m going to die trying!”

Mihnea looked at them in disappointment for a few moments.

“So be it,” he said with a sigh.  “But first, I promised my bride a show before the wedding.  I hope you enjoy your gift, my dear,” he said with rub of her shoulder.

Mihnea snapped his fingers and a set of double doors beneath the balcony creaked open.  Two forms appeared out of the darkness and strode into the room.

“Uncle Link?” Abigail gasped.

Link pushed his cowboy hat away from his eyes and stared at them indifferently.  The young werewolf next to him snarled and growled as foam dripped from his teeth.

“Kill these girls,” Mihnea commanded them.  “Rip them to shreds.”

Michael followed Alucard’s directions carefully.  He had no desire to get lost and find himself alone in this castle.  But he was nearly to the throne room now, and he could only hope that someone friendly would be waiting for him there.  He fidgeted nervously with the string of his bow, thoughts of Abigail and Magda shooting through his mind.  He prayed they’d somehow been able to make it on their own.  The horrors wandering through the halls of this castle would pose a threat for the most seasoned warrior, and would certainly show no mercy to two young girls.

And then there were his father, Mr. MacDonald, and Caleb, still unaccounted for.  Now that he knew Alucard hadn’t picked up Elizabeth, he was confident it had been them.  Perhaps they’d even taken care of Mihnea, and all that would be left to do was shut down the portal.  But he still wasn’t sure how they were going to do that, especially in a way that kept Magda safe.  He wasn’t going to let her sacrifice herself, even if it was the only way to destroy that gateway.

Michael was relieved to see the Wallachian suit of armor waiting at the end of the hall.  He walked up and raised the halberd a few inches off the ground until he heard it click.  The full body mirror on the adjacent wall swung open, just as Alucard said it would, and Michael stepped into a small hidden elevator.  He pulled the lever and listened to the clunking of chains as he felt it ascend.  This wasn’t the most direct route to the throne room, but Alucard insisted it was the best way to get there undetected.

The lift came to a halt and he stepped into a narrow tunnel.  A few small bats hung from the ceiling, and Michael eyed them nervously.  One glanced down at him for a moment, then hid its face behind its wing and went back to sleep.

The passage went on for quite some time, straight for a while, and then up a long stone staircase before ending at a wall, which Michael easily pushed open.  He peeked to make sure the coast was clear before hopping out.

Large gears and intricate machinery surrounded him.  Alucard had told him this was the castle’s clock tower, and warned him to stay away from the large, moving pieces, unless he wanted to get pulled into the gears and be turned to jelly.  As he examined the ancient machine, Michael wondered what kind of man must have designed such a thing, much less built it.  The tick of the gigantic mechanism and the steady movements of its pieces were soothing, and for a while as Michael watched it he almost forgot his mission, and that he needed to keep going.  This wasn’t any time for site seeing.

Making his way through the tower, he suddenly realized that for whatever reason, he felt safer, more at ease in this place.  Even so, thinking about what lied ahead made him nervous all over again.  He wished he knew where Abigail and Magda were, and cringed at the thought of what Mihnea might do to them if they were discovered heading for his throne room.  And what if Alucard and Liam didn’t make it back with the lance in time; what if they didn’t make it back at all?

“No,” Michael whispered to himself.  “Things will turn out alright.  They have to.”

Passing beneath a large wooden rafter, he noticed a crow’s nest above his head, and was reminded of the way Alucard had fed the ravens in the park.  He grinned to think that he now had a vampire for a friend.  Since meeting Raymond, he had spent a lot of time thinking about what exactly it meant to be a monster.  Raymond had struggled against what he was, and was now working to master it.  Alucard’s story had many similarities.  These two friends of his hadn’t been given a choice about what they were, but both had refused to give in to the monster within.  As much as Michael hated to think about it, his sister might have to face that very thing.  If anyone could do it, Abigail could, but hopefully it wouldn’t be coming to that.

To think that just a few years before, his family had seemed so normal.  Now Michael knew differently, and things were getting more interesting every day.  Maybe the Cisco Kid had it right after all; maybe all of them belonged in a comic book.  The funny thing was, Cisco didn’t know the half of it.

Reaching the other end of the clock tower, Michael had to brush the dust away from the floor to find the outline of the concealed hatch door.  It creaked as it opened, and with a shudder he hopped down into the dirty crawlspace beneath the floor.  Several spiders fled the scene upon seeing the flames of his torch coming toward them.  Burning away the cobwebs, he made his way through the passage, scrunched down almost to the point where it would’ve been easier to crawl.

Finally he saw it, the hatch that led to the balcony of the throne room was just up ahead.  Light shone up from the edges, which meant there was a good chance somebody was down there.  He’d have to be careful while opening that thing up, and hoped this one wasn’t as noisy as the other one he’d just come through.

Leaning his torch against the wall, Michael gently unfixed the latch and began to raise the door, peaking through as soon as there was room.

The scene that unfolded below nearly knocked the wind from his lungs, and with more rage than he’d ever felt, he leapt into the room below.

Alucard held onto the base of the orca’s dorsal fin as they sped through the subterranean waters, and held out Michael’s lantern with his other hand to light up their way.

“At the end of this cavern, dive down into the passage straight ahead.  When we come to the fork, take the channel all the way to the left.  That should bring us up right in Dagon’s lair.  You’ll have to swim fast because I’ll be holding my breath, and be careful not to smash me against the rocks when the passage narrows.  Got all that?”

Liam made a few clicking and whistling sounds while nodding his head, and waited for Alucard to take a long deep breath before plunging beneath the water.  He swam as fast as he could, slowing down only in those places where he needed to navigate more carefully.

Before long they’d emerged once more, and Alucard promptly drew a fresh dose of air into his lungs.

“Good boy,” he told Liam, giving him a friendly pat.  “If only I had a few fish to give you.”

Liam swam a bit closer to shore before changing back into a human.

“Normally, I’d think of something clever to say to that jab,” he told Alucard.  “But the truth is, a few fish sounded like a pretty good idea just then.  You kinda had my hopes up.”

Alucard smiled as he climbed up onto the rocks.  “And now?”

“Naw,” Liam shook his head.  “The moment’s passed.  I could go for one of Da’s steaks now, or even a good shepherd’s pie.”

“Watch your step on these rocks.  Dagon tends to leave a trail of slime in his wake.”

Liam sidestepped a particularly slippery looking pool “Yuck, I can see that.  So what are you planning on doing with that creature if he’s in here?  Are you going to put him out of his misery or what?”

“I suppose that’s up to him, and whether or not he chooses to cooperate.”  Alucard tossed the lantern back to Liam.

Together they strode up the rocky incline, and upon reaching the top, looked down to see the hidden lair of Dagon.  Bones were scattered across the ground leading up to a secluded corner, where all kinds of treasures and trinkets were piled up high.  There were toys, weapons, toasters and odd pieces of trash.  It was a bizarre collection, and the only commonality Liam could put his finger on was that every object there was shiny.

“There he is,” Alucard said abruptly, making Liam jump.

“Where?  Where is he?” His heart began to beat faster as he looked for the creature Michael had described to him.

“There, lying on the ground.”  Alucard bounded over to the body of an old man, who was sprawled amidst the oddities.  He looked like he’d been beaten pretty badly.  Alucard gently picked up his head to check for breath and a pulse.  “He’s alive, but we need to get him out of here.”

“Well he can’t hold his breath while he’s unconscious,” Liam reminded him.  “Have you got any ideas?”

“No.  Do you see the lance anywhere?”

Liam took a quick look around, but didn’t see the weapon.  Dagon had either taken it with him or hidden it well.

Liam shone the lantern in every direction, hoping it might point something out.  “I don’t see it anywhere.  How are we going to find it?”

“Nothing goes on down here without Dagon knowing about it.  All we have to do is wait for him to turn up.”

“Great,” Liam chimed.  “I look forward to it.”

“Al-Alucard, is that you?” came the Dragon’s weak, raspy voice.

“Yes, it’s me.  Don’t worry, you’re safe now, just try and rest.”

“But, but Dagon…he has taken Ascalon….”

“I know.  Don’t worry, we’ll have the lance back soon.”

“WILL YOU, NOW?” came a thunderous voice from the water.

They turned to see Dagon slithering toward them.  Liam thought he was even more hideous than Michael had described, but the putrid smell was what really caught him off guard.  He carried a sack with what might be a drowned sheep, or perhaps a dog, in one hand, and a short wooden lance in the other.

“Uug, you stink,” Liam spat at him.  “I’d tell you to take a bath but, well, …you do live in the water after all.  Maybe try some soap, couldn’t you?  I mean, for goodness’ sake.”

“SILENCE, YOU FOOL.  You shall pay with your lives for invading my kingdom.”  His eyes turned toward the rising form of Alucard, whose face was a light blue color rather than white, due to the light of Michael’s lantern.  “Lord Alucard?  Wh-What brings you down to my domain?”

“We’re here to retrieve him,” he said, gesturing down to the old man in his arms, “and that lance.”  He nodded to the beast’s weapon.

“I’m sorry, my lord, but you shall have neither.  Count Mihnea has instructed me to hold your friend as a prisoner, and this weapon was willingly placed here in the caverns beneath the castle.  It is mine.”

“And if I command you to release them to me?”

Dagon shook his fishy head.  “Mihnea is the greater master, I must obey him.”

“Even if it means your death?” Alucard asked him.

The creature roared with laughter.  “It will not.  The two of you are no match for me and my servants.”

Liam noticed dozens of fish-like faces rising out of the water.  The creatures were more like men than Dagon, and only half his size.  They had sharp teeth, webbed hands and feet, and a few wore tattered pieces of old, rotting clothes.  They rose up and staggered onto the rocks, heading toward their victims with outstretched arms.

“Oh, how lovely,” Liam said to Alucard, taking a step backward.  “A family reunion, and we forgot to bring a side-dish.  Maybe we just ought to be going then?”

“I don’t know how you got down here,” Dagon told them angrily, “but you won’t be getting back out so easily.”

Alucard gently set his grandfather down upon the rocks, and rushed to Liam’s side with his sword drawn.  “Do you have any weapons on you?”

“Just a pistol, but the bullets were meant for vampires, I’d hate to waste them on this lot.”

“Saving our lives could hardly be considered wasting them,” Alucard frowned back.

“Good point, but I’ve got a better idea.  If I take care of the big guy, can you handle all his little friends?”

Alucard raised his hand to Liam’s forehead.  “Are you feeling alright?” he asked with concern.  “You don’t seem to have a temperature.”

“Come on, I’m being serious.  I think I can give this creep a run for his money.”

“All right, but stay where I can get at him if you need my help, alright?”

“It’s a deal,” Liam said, taking his hand and shaking it vigorously.  “Well, here goes nothing.”  He took off toward Dagon, dodging the attacks of the fish-men as he went, until he reached the edge of the lake.  He jumped out as far as he could, forming a cannon ball and splashing down into the water.

He emerged to see Dagon looming over him in laughter.  “And just where do you think you’re going?  Are you that eager to have your miserable life put to an end?”

“Let’s move things along,” they heard Alucard call from shore.  Liam turned to see him standing there leaning upon his sword, the bodies of the fish-man strewn about his feet.  “We’re working against the clock here, remember?”

Dagon screeched in fury as he glared down to see the fate of his minions.

“YOU’LL PAY FOR TH—”

Even before he could finish, the orca was upon him, biting him around the waist and pulling him down.

Alucard watched as the pool filled up with violent thrashing and splashing.  Water flew in every direction.  It was like standing in the rain on a gusty day, and the thuds and screams of battle echoed off the cavern walls all around him.

He immediately began to regret letting Liam take on the creature alone.  What had he been thinking?  Even if the boy could turn into an orca, he was still just a boy.  Alucard watched the battle closely, looking for an opportunity to jump in, but just as he was getting ready to strike, the fighting stopped.

Liam swam in and changed form, casting himself onto the rocks and staggering toward Alucard as fast as his legs would carry him, dragging the lance in tow.  He dropped it to the ground at his feet while coughing and gagging and spitting furiously, clenching his stomach with both hands.

“Are you alright?” Alucard asked, grabbing ahold of him and looking for blood or other signs of injury.

Liam nodded, and turned away as he vomited upon the rocks.  “YUCH,” he shouted angrily.  “You think that thing smelled bad?”  He vomited once more before turning to face Alucard.  “Well that wasn’t anything compared to the way he tasted.”

Alucard cringed, trying not to imagine it.  He turned to see Dagon, floating in two halves upon the surface of the water.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

A Symphony of Lamentations

Digging her heels into the ground, Magda held her daggers out to shield her body, and braced for the coming impact.

“Don’t hurt them,” Abigail pleaded with her.  “They’re members of my family.”

“WEREWOLVES are part of your family?  What are you talking about Abigail?  You’re delusional!”

Raymond, who had fully assumed his wolf form, lunged for her, but she sidestepped and gave him a sharp kick to the rear, using his own momentum to send him flying through the air.

“This is my Uncle Link,” she said, slowly backing away from the approaching wolf-man.  He growled at her menacingly as the heels of his boots clomped across the floor.  His clawed hands were out to his sides as if he were preparing for a quick-draw, but Abigail couldn’t see beneath his dirty leather duster to find out if his guns were strapped on.  “He’s not a werewolf, he’s just a shape-shifter.  But that one attacking you is a werewolf, so don’t get bit.  His name is Raymond.”

“Great,” Magda told her.  “Now that we’ve all been introduced maybe you could ask them to stop trying to kill us.”

“It’s not them, it’s Mihnea,” she said, glaring up at him.  “He’s controlling them somehow.”

“Yes, vampires can sometimes control wolves,” Magda agreed as she dodged a few snaps of the werewolf boy’s teeth.  “Dracula was known to be a great master of them.”

“And his skills pale in comparison to mine,” Mihnea laughed.  “But look at the bright side, Abigail, at least you’re getting the chance to say goodbye.”

Link’s eyes were full of fury as he continued toward her, but for some reason he wasn’t attacking.  For some reason, he hesitated.

“Maybe you recognize me,” Abigail told him.  “You do, don’t you, Uncle Link?  Please, please say that you recognize me.”

He crept closer, watching her like a wolf might eye a rabbit, but as she spoke to him, something in his expression changed.  She could see the conflict going on inside his head.  He was struggling, fighting Mihnea’s control.

But Abigail wasn’t the only one who noticed it.

“KILL HER!” Mihnea commanded him.  “DO IT NOW, YOU WORTHLESS SLAVE!”

Link fell to his knees and put his hands to his head, howling out in agony.  His hat fell to the ground and Abigail saw the sweat begin to bead up on his forehead.

She turned to see Magda continuing her fight with Raymond.  She was breathing heavily.

“If he bites me, Abigail, then I’m biting you!”

“Then don’t let him bite you,” she shot back.

“Easy for you to say!” Magda yelled.

Link let out a final ear-piercing screech before falling flat on his face and sprawling out lifelessly.  Abigail burst out in tears and sank down beside him.

“Please don’t be dead,” she whispered to him.  “I love you, Uncle Link.  Please don’t be dead.  We need you.  Please, please, please….”

The sounds of battle mingled with Mihnea’s laughter and echoed through the chamber, but it all seemed to fade away into nothingness as Abigail ran her fingers through her uncle’s hair.  She raised his arm a few inches off the ground and let it drop.  She pushed open his eyelid to reveal a bloodshot, rolled-back eyeball.  She tried to check for a pulse, although she wasn’t sure she was doing it right, and felt nothing.

“No,” she wept miserably.  “You can’t be gone.  You can’t be.”  She sat there for a few moments weeping and holding his hand.  First Michael and now her uncle?  She felt like her heart was melting away within her.

“Abby, I need your help,” Magda called to her.  “I’m sorry about your uncle, but if you want me to subdue your friend without killing him, then get over here and help me.”

Abigail looked up at her and wiped the tears from her face.  “I-I’m COMING,” she yelled.

She began to rise, but out of nowhere a large hand grabbed her around the throat and began to squeeze.

Link jumped to his feet, and lifted the small girl high into the air.  He glared into her eyes, and this time all signs of hesitation were gone.  Only malice remained.

NO, Abigail tried to scream, but the word never came.  She sputtered and strained and gasped for air.

“FIGHT HIM, ABIGAIL!  YOU HAVE TO FIGHT HIM!”

Magda barely managed to pull her arm away from Raymond’s snapping jaws before punching him hard in the nose.  The blow disoriented him, and he staggered backwards, letting out a series of sharp sneezes.

Magda sprinted across the room to the aid of her friend.  “FIGHT HIM ABBY, HIT HIM.  NOW!”

Abigail felt as if her head might pop off.  The world began to blur, and she struggled to remain conscious.  Time seemed to slow down as she watched Magda charge up from behind and bury a small silver dagger up to the hilt in her uncle’s shoulder.

She dropped to the floor with a painful thud, and looked up just in time to see Magda dodge away from her uncle’s backhanded swing.

“Wh-why did you do that?” Abigail barked at her.  “YOU STABBED MY UNCLE!”

“Abby, he was about to KILL you.”

“NO HE WOULDN’T HAVE,” she insisted.

Raymond came at her like a bolt of lightning, but Abigail heard him and ducked just in time.  He flew over her head and crashed into Link, knocking him back into one of the dragon-shaped obelisks.

Magda grabbed Abigail by the arm and spun her around.  “Abby, I’ll try not to kill them, but we’re going to have to hurt them to get them to stop.  It’s the only way.”

“Don’t you DARE,” Abigail warned her.  “There has to be another way.”

Their attackers were upon them once more.  Link grabbed Magda and lifted her into the air, squeezing his nails into her arms.  She squealed in pain and kicked him hard in the stomach several times, but it didn’t seem to faze him.  He looked her in the face and snarled before casting her aside like an unwanted rag doll.  Then he went for Abigail.

Raymond seized the opportunity and leapt for Magda, but she caught hold of his neck and managed to hold him at bay as his teeth snapped furiously just inches from her face.  Foam and spit splashed out as he chomped.

Link again seized Abigail and held her up by the arms as he’d done to Magda, looking her in the face like he was trying to remember something.

“Come on, Uncle Link.  Fight this!  I know you can do it, you have to FIGHT MIHNEA.”

Mihnea began speaking again, and once more Link’s face cringed in agony.

“Please, Uncle Link, please,” Abigail pleaded tearfully.

She looked up at Mihnea and wept, praying that the man who held her was strong enough, and loved her enough to overcome this spell.

And then something happened that she did not at all expect.  Michael leapt down from a hole in the ceiling and landed with a heavy blow right on Mihnea’s head.

Michael fell from the hatch door, straightening his legs for the strike, and dropped a good fifteen feet before landing with a crack directly onto Mihnea's head.

The villain crumbled to the ground along with his attacker.  It took Michael several moments to draw back the air that had been knocked from his lungs, and as soon as he got his bearings he lunged for Mihnea, punching him hard across the face.  Then he punched him again, and again, and again.  He noticed the Sword of Van Helsing hanging from his victim’s belt and went for it, but the vampire pushed him hard against the chest, and Michael stumbled back, tripping over Mihnea’s legs and landing on the floor.

Elizabeth looked down at them in shock.  “M-Michael?”  She placed her hand over her mouth.  “What’s going on?  I don’t understand this!”  She scanned the throne room in terror.  The vampire's hold over her had been broken.

Mihnea leapt to his feet, looking down upon him from a strange angle.  It appeared that his neck was broken.  He reached up and took hold of his head, and with pain in his face snapped it sharply back into place.  “I’m impressed,” he said.  “But I’ve had just about enough of your meddling.  So, you think you can fly, do you?”  He picked Michael up by the front of his shirt and threw him toward the bottom floor as if he were spiking a football.

He heard several people scream his name at once as he sped toward the floor, and then felt someone jump up and catch him, as gently as was possible, before tumbling to the floor once more.

Michael opened his eyes to see his uncle, frowning down at him in confusion, and behind his shoulder, up on the balcony, Mihnea struggling with Elizabeth to calm her down, but it didn’t seem to be working.  Link turned to look just as Mihnea slapped her hard across the face.  She fell down out of their sight.

Link immediately lunged to his feet and sprung toward them, a look of murder filled his eyes.  He jumped up and seized the edge of the balcony, but as he was pulling himself up Mihnea tried to take control of him once more.  He let go and clasped the sides of his head, falling back to the floor with a heavy thud.

Michael turned to find Magda and Abigail at his side.  Together, they ran and hid out of Mihnea’s sight in front of the throne.

“We need to get the sword from Mihnea somehow,” Michael told them.

“How are we supposed to do that?” Abigail asked.  “He’s up there and we’re stuck down here trying to hold off Uncle Link and Raymond.  Hey, where is Raymond anyway?”

“He ran off when Michael attacked Mihnea,” Magda told them.  “I’m not sure where he went.”

“Alright, listen.  We need to act quickly.  Let’s all three of us rush up there and attack him together.  We have to do it now, while he’s struggling to get Uncle Link under his control.  I’ll take the left staircase and you two take the right.  Have you still got plenty of daggers left?” he asked Magda.

She nodded.  “Abby, take this bottle of holy water.  Dip your chain whip in it, and when we get up there, try to throw the rest in his face.”

“Good idea,” Michael agreed.  “Let me dip a few arrows in that too.”

Magda held the bottle while Michael and Abigail submerged their weapons, and then she handed Abigail the bottle.

Michael strung an arrow.  “Okay, ready?  Be careful.”

Abigail followed Magda to the right stair while Michael sprinted to the left.

Fixing his eyes upon Mihnea, Michael watched as he struggled to regain control of Link, who was still thrashing around on the floor with his hands on his head.

He crept up the stair as carefully as he could manage, trying to watch his step and make sure he kept pace with the girls, who were both as light-footed as elves.

Let’s see him block the attacks of all three of us, Michael thought.  And while we have him distracted Uncle Link can join the fight.  If he hadn’t been holding his bow and arrows, he would have liked to cross his fingers.

He was nearly to the top now, and he could see Elizabeth lying on the floor behind Mihnea.  She was propped up on her arms and wore a dazed expression, as if completely lost, even about who and where she was.

Michael took aim at Mihnea’s chest.  His eyes met those of Magda, and she nodded.  He was about to nod back when he saw her eyes grow wide, and her mouth open to call out a warning that would come too late.

Pain exploded through his right calf muscle.  He looked down to see a small wolf latched firmly onto his leg, and heard himself screech out in agony before falling backward down the stairs.  His head banged against several steps before he tumbled to a stop upside down and on his back, looking up at the old, ornate chandelier.  It’s beautiful, he thought.  I wonder how much something like that would go for these days.  He couldn’t remember his parents buying the thing, and besides that, it was awfully big for their living room.  No, he wasn’t at his own house- hadn’t that burned down?  He suddenly felt excited.  I must be at McGinty Castle.  He couldn’t ever remember seeing the chandelier there either, but Mr. MacDonald was always bringing home new treasures.  As pretty as the thing was though, with all its twinkling little flames, Michael liked the night sky much better, especially the moon.  He loved the moon.

He suddenly felt hot.  He felt painfully hot, and tried to pull himself up to a sitting position.  He was too weak however, and the effort only made him fall down the remaining steps until he thudded onto the floor.  A loud pounding sound was drawing closer.  Someone was coming toward him, possibly getting ready to attack.  With effort, he lifted his head and glanced over to look.  Two females were running toward him, and he recognized both.  The little one with yellow hair was a member of his pack, his sister.  That was good.  At least he wasn’t being attacked.  The taller one with black fur wasn’t a member of his pack just yet, but he was going to change that.

Magda tackled Raymond and held him to the floor while Abigail dropped and took Michael’s head onto her lap.

“He’s burning up,” Abigail told her through trembling lips, “and look at the sweat pouring off of him.”

“He’s turning,” Magda told her.  “Leave him and help me tie this one up.  DON’T JUST SIT THERE, DO IT!”

Abigail took a length of rope from Magda’s pack and helped her hogtie Raymond.  They also tied his mouth shut in case he broke free.

“Now it’s his turn,” she said, nodding at Michael.

Abigail picked up her brother’s hand.  “Do we really have to do that?”

Magda was already on top of him.  “You know it’s the only way, now help me.”

Together they bound him and leaned him against the wall.

By the time they were finished, Link had stopped struggling, and was again lying motionless on the floor.

“Well, I have to say that I’m very disappointed in all of you,” Mihnea spat out.  “You people really are beginning to bore me.  I’d hoped for a slaughter worthy of a wedding gift, but instead we have talking and tying up and pleading and fainting.”

He caught Elizabeth by the arm and pulled her to her feet.  She screamed in terror and smacked at him, and then a broad smile stretched across her face and she kissed him lovingly on the cheek.

She’s starting to lose it, Magda thought.  Her mind can’t take the strain.  It’s breaking.

“We need to move in for another attack,” she whispered to Abigail.  “This time we stay together.  Are you ready?”

Abigail nodded determinedly.

“That’s right, girls,” Mihnea jeered.  “Come on up, it’s time to end this once and for all.  I have a beautiful bride to attend to, after all.”  He stood in the middle of the balcony with his arms crossed, waiting for them.

Before Magda could move, the door behind Mihnea burst open and a dark form shot toward him.  He was struck hard in the back and thrown against the wrought iron rails, while Elizabeth fell to the floor once again.

Magda caught a glimpse of a strange, white face she did not recognize.  It had to be Alucard, she thought.  Michael and Abigail had told her all about him.  She watched as the two brothers began to fight so furiously that she could scarcely make out which man was which.  As they struggled, she balled her hands into fists and smiled.  Perhaps they were saved, after all.

The fighting went on for several long moments.  And then, from the confusion of the battle, the lance of St. George came hurdling down toward her.  Whether Alucard had lost it or cast it to her on purpose she didn’t know, but she leapt into the air and eagerly caught it up.  She turned her eyes for a quick examination of the weapon before gazing back to the balcony.

The strikes that each of the brothers delivered were so fast that Magda’s eyes could barely keep up with it all, and after a moment she heard the clanging of swords and saw the streaks of steel left by the blades passing through the air.  It made her angry that Mihnea was using the sword of her forefathers.  He was unworthy to use such a noble weapon in battle.

“COME ON, ALUCARD,” Abigail cheered.  “DON’T LET HIM GET THE BEST OF YOU.  YOU’RE STRONGER THAN HE IS!”

The cheering made Magda smile.  Perhaps it was this encouragement that drove Alucard forward, or maybe the sword- a weapon of righteousness, somehow betrayed the evil man using it, but whatever the reason, the two girls watched in glee as their friend beat his adversary down, and took the sword away from him.

Alucard stood there panting, holding both swords at the throat of his brother.  “Your reign of evil has ended, Mihnea, even before it has started.  I’m sorry, but I can’t allow you to leave this castle.  Not after the things you’ve done.  Have you anything to say for yourself?”

“Oh, I have plenty to say for myself,” he answered with a look of disdain.  He stood to his feet and scanned the eyes of everyone in the room, stopping to fix his gaze on Magda.  “I know the two of us don’t exactly see eye to eye, but now that you have that lance of yours, you might consider using it on my father here.  After all, he’s betrayed us both.”

“Your father?  What are you talking about, monster?  TELL ME!  TELL ME NOW!”

“You truly are a stupid girl, aren’t you?  It’s no wonder that you Van Helsings die so easily,” he laughed mockingly.

“Don’t listen to his lies,” Alucard warned her, moving the swords closer to his neck.

“Tell me, stupid girl, have you never stopped to think that the name Alucard spelled backwards is DRACULA?”

Magda suddenly felt sick.  Was it really possible?  Had this strange man, whom her friends had taken in and trusted, now betrayed them all?  She wanted to trust Michael; she did trust him.  But that didn’t mean he couldn’t be fooled himself.  Look at him now, tied up on the ground with werewolf blood pumping through his veins, and Abigail had been changed into a vampire as well, at least she would be as soon as she made her first kill.  Magda looked at her suspiciously.  She didn’t know what to think.  She didn’t know what to do.

“Help me, God,” she prayed softly as a tear ran down her cheek.

“I’m afraid He wasn’t invited to the party,” Mihnea said angrily.  “But if you want further proof of my father’s betrayal, then ask him for the sword.  He won’t give it to you.  I know why you’re here, Magda Van Helsing.  You want to destroy that gateway, don’t you?  You’re even willing to sacrifice yourself to do it!  Then ask your friend, your ally here for the sword, and see if he gives it to you.”

“Don’t listen to him Magda,” Michael said weakly, shaking his head.  “He’s evil.  Alucard is our friend.  Mihnea’s only trying to trick you.”

Alucard held the swords threateningly at Mihnea’s throat.  His red eyes glared menacingly.  “Shut up,” he said.  “I think you’ve said enough.”

Magda glared up at Alucard.  “He’s right,” she told him.  “I did come to destroy that gateway, give me the sword so I can do it.”

Alucard just stood there silently, glaring angrily into Mihnea’s eyes.  “I’m afraid I can’t do that,” he told her.  “I’m not going to give you this sword.”

“You are Dracula, aren’t you?” Magda yelled at Alucard.  She glanced down at Abigail, who appeared to be just as confused as she was.  “I don’t know how you managed to fool everyone, but I’ll take on both of you if I have to.”

Magda knew that she stood no chance against either of them, much less both, but she’d still fight them, and try her hardest to protect her friends, even if it meant her death.

“No, Magda, listen to me—” Alucard said, turning to look at her.  As soon as he took his eyes off of Mihnea, he changed his form into a bat and took off across the room.  Without another word, Alucard changed and flew after him, catching him in the air.  The creatures bit and clawed at one another as they dropped and landed by the front door of the throne room.

They changed back into men and Mihnea was soon overpowered once again, lying on the floor and at the mercy of the man with two swords at his neck.

Magda gasped when Caleb Boone came running in through the door.

“I’m sorry,” he huffed to Alucard.  “I got here as quickly as I could.”

“Belmont and his friend?” Alucard asked.

“They’re on their way.”

“Alright, we need to hurry.  Can you cover him while I take care of the girl?”

Caleb nodded, and drew his own sword, holding it to Mihnea’s neck.

“What did I tell you, girl,” Mihnea called to Magda.  “He’s coming for you.  Better get that lance ready!”

“QUIET, YOU!” Caleb commanded him.

Alucard shot at Magda, but she was ready for him.  She kicked, narrowly missing his face, and made several jabs with the lance, trying to anticipate where he was going next.  She’d never seen anyone move so quickly.  Is this how her life would end?  Fighting with this monster who was responsible for causing her family so much pain and misery, unable even to land one blow.

And then she hit him.  With a terrible crack, she drove the lance right into his ribcage.  He staggered back, and she waited for the ethereal blue bonds to appear, just like the ones Michael had seen in his vision, but they did not come.  She gaped in surprise as Alucard quickly recovered and shot around behind her.

He grabbed her arms, and pinned her to the ground.

“I truly am sorry for this,” he said, “but it’s the only way.”

Terror seized her, and her body betrayed itself, as she was too exhausted to struggle any longer.  She had no strength left to fight.  She whimpered as Alucard’s teeth sank into her arm, not far from where Michael had cut her.  She wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of a scream; she could still deny him that, at least.

After a moment, to her astonishment, he let go, carefully letting her drop to the floor.  She watched as he ran toward the throne, and noticed her own blood streaming from the blade of the sword.  She looked at her arm to see a short, deep cut where she’d thought he had bitten her.

He leapt onto the throne just as Mark Belmont and Declan MacDonald sprinted into the room.  They quickly scanned the place, trying to take in everything that was going on around them.

“I think Michael’s been bitten,” Caleb told them.  “Have you two got Mihnea?”

“We’ve got him,” Mark said, as Abigail ran to his side.  “Abby, what happened to Michael?  Was he bitten?”

She nodded.  “Mihnea made Raymond bite him, so now he’s a werewolf,” she wept.  “And…and—”

“What is it?” he asked, catching her up into his arms.  “And he bit me himself, but I’m not a real vampire yet, I promise.  I haven’t hurt anybody.  He bit Elizabeth too!”

“Is that so?” her father asked rhetorically, pulling a sharp wooden stake from his belt and glaring at Mihnea.  “Well, he ought not to have done those things, sweetie.  Now he’s going to have to pay for it.”

The vampire laughed.  “You are all weaklings and fools.  Do you really think you two are any match for me?”

“I don’t know,” shrugged Mark.  “Maybe, maybe not.  But I know he is.”

Mihnea looked over his shoulder, but before he could turn, his body jerked violently.  He fell to the ground with a thud, and standing there behind him was Link, still in his wolf-man form, holding Mihnea’s heart up in a clawed hand.  Mark plunged the stake through, and within seconds both the heart and the body of the vampire lord were burning away into ash.

Caleb threw himself down to the floor beside Michael.

He slapped him several times lightly on the face.  “Michael, how long ago were you bitten?”

“It was a werewolf,” Michael told him weakly.

“Yes, but how long ago?  How long?”

“Raymond,” Michael mumbled, “But he…wasn’t his fault.”

Magda knelt down beside them.  “It was about ten minutes ago, I think, but everything has been happening so fast.  I can’t say exactly.”

“Close enough,” Caleb told her, taking a large syringe out of his pack.  It was filled with some kind of silver liquid.  “This ought to do the trick, but he isn’t going to like it.  It’s a good thing he’s tied up, but you might want to hold him.”

Magda took Michael’s hand and squeezed as Caleb plunged the syringe into his chest.  Immediately he began writhing in agony, screaming and thrashing uncontrollably.  His friends struggled to hold him down as the werewolf virus burned out of his veins.

Elizabeth stood in the balcony and surveyed everything that was going on below her.

“Link?” she muttered feebly, and gasped as he turned his hairy face to meet her gaze.

Then she fainted.

Michael’s vision began to clear, and he opened his eyes to find Caleb, his father and sister, and Declan MacDonald hovering over him.  He had a pounding headache and felt sick to his stomach.  His father helped him to his feet, but he was so weak he nearly fell right over again, and had to prop himself up against the wall.

“We need to get out of here quickly,” his father told him.  “Alucard’s going to attempt to charge the gateway up with energy until it explodes, just like Anubis destroyed the other one.”

Michael looked up toward the throne where Alucard was seated.  Magda stood beside him.  A wall of green mist stretched between the two obelisks, and it was growing brighter by the second.  The sound of a gusty wind began to fill the chamber.

“But that’s going to kill him.  I need to speak with him,” Michael called through the noise, pointing to the throne.

“All right, can you walk?” he asked, watching his son sway back and forth.

Michael nodded.  “I’ll be all right, just need a few seconds.”  After taking some deep breaths to get his bearings, he staggered to the throne.  When he got there, he saw that the sword of Van Helsing had been inserted into the right palm of the dragon throne, and Alucard’s white hands gripped it tightly.  He was straining to keep it locked in place.

“Alucard, you don’t need to do this,” Magda told him.  “Mihnea’s dead!  We can come back and destroy this thing later, figure out a way to do it safely.”

“There is no way to do this safely.  Besides, I won’t allow anyone else to be harmed by my father’s evil.  The gateway is too dangerous to be allowed to exist any longer.  You all need to get out now, as quickly as you can.  I’ve already shown Caleb the most direct route.”

The sound of wind grew heavier, and Michael felt his hair and clothing being tugged toward the portal.  He could hear screams and other blood curdling sounds emanating from the mist, and had to fight the urge to plug his ears.

He pulled and tugged on his ring, struggling to get it off.  Anubis had given it to him for protection when the first gateway was destroyed.  If he’d kept it on himself, he’d still be alive today.  If only he could get the ring off, he could give it to Alucard, but it wouldn’t budge, and he felt that if he pulled any harder he might dislocate his finger.

“We’re not going to leave without you,” Michael urged him.  “I’ll stay, help you destroy this thing.”

“Thank you, Michael.  You’re a good friend.  But that won’t be necessary.  You and Magda have your entire lives ahead of you, enjoy them.  Don’t worry about me, I’ll get out if I can, but you need to go now.”

Michael felt his father’s hand on his shoulder.  “Come on, son,” he said gently.  “He’s doing this so Magda doesn’t have to.  It’s time to leave, we need to get the girls to safety.”

Michael hesitated, looking up at Alucard’s pained face for a few moments before conceding with a nod.

“Thank you,” Michael told him.  “For everything.”

“Take care, all of you.  Now go, quickly.”

Michael grabbed Magda’s hand, and began to pull her away, but she resisted, pointing back into the portal.

“MICHAEL, LOOK!”

Deep in the mist, a terrible gray face began to take form.  Its ears were pointed, as was its nose, and its fanged mouth grinned out at them with a hunger that sent chills down Michael’s spine.  With great effort the beast drove itself toward them, as if it were trying to push its way through the winds of a mighty hurricane.

“It’s Dracula,” Magda said to him.  She glared at the creature with a fury that Michael had never seen in her eyes before, not even when she’d looked at Mihnea.

The vampire stretched out his long, clawed fingers toward Alucard, and growled something at him in a language Michael couldn’t understand.  Alucard’s face flushed with fear, but he continued to stand firm, clutching the sword with all his strength.

Before he had time to stop her, Magda charged the beast, holding the lance, which had grown three times its normal size, up at her waist.  She struck out with all her might, landed her blow square in the monster’s chest with a thunderous crack and blinding flash of light.

Ethereal blue bonds appeared and began to wrap tightly around the monstrous creature as he was sucked back into the portal.  It stared at Magda in shock before fading away back into the mists.

The light from the portal was growing brighter every moment, and the sounds coming from within had become so loud that Michael couldn’t hear his father, who was tugging on him and shouting for them to leave.  Michael nodded and turned back to grab Magda, but stopped cold when he noticed that something else was now coming through the gateway.  Dozens of tall forms were trying to push their way out.  As they began to get closer, Michael expected to see some horrific kind of beasts, and was surprised when they all appeared to be normal men.

Michael took Magda by the arm, urging her to follow, but she shook free, lifting her lance into the air and throwing it like a javelin into the gateway.  Immediately there was a chain reaction of electrical cracks and flashes, like a lightning storm had just been unleashed between the obelisks.

Without thinking, Michael threw himself on top of Magda.  They fell to the ground, and as he shielded her with his body, he saw that his ring was glowing.  He held his curled fist up toward the portal, and watched as a dome of blue light spread out and encompassed him and his companions.

Michael looked to Alucard, who was still straining to hold the sword in place.  His teeth were gritted and his muscles bulged, and he didn’t look like he’d be able to hold it much longer.

As the storm within the gateway continued, the obelisks began to crack and crumble, and loose objects around the room were getting sucked into the portal, but his shield of protection held firm.  The hideous drapery of Dracula and the impaled masses was pulled off the wall and electrified as it shot away into nothingness.  The energy and the storm intensified, until chunks of the obelisks themselves disappeared, and the portal, with another ear piercing crack, imploded upon itself.

The blue dome of light collapsed.  Michael didn’t know how he’d managed to generate it, but it had managed to keep them all safe.  He leaned against the throne and took in a long, deep breath.

For the next few moments things remained calm, and everyone stood looking in amazement at where the obelisks had stood just seconds before, enjoying the silence and peace.

And then the room began to rumble and shake.

“This castle was built to guard the gateway,” Michael told them.  “Now that it’s destroyed, this whole place is going to cave in on us.”

“Michael, your nose is bleeding again,” Magda said, taking his face in her hands.

His father yanked them up and threw Michael over his shoulder.

“Come on, we need to get out of here, now.” He took Magda’s hand and they ran toward the door along with the others.

Alucard pulled the sword from the throne to find that the blade had been shattered.  He ran up and took the lead as they abandoned the quaking throne room.  Michael heard the sounds of the fortress demolishing itself around them as they fled, but even among the cracking of walls and falling of stones he was unable to keep his eyes open.  The ring had drained him once again.

Liam held the canteen up so the old man could take another drink.

“Thank you, lad,” he said gratefully.  “I can already feel some of my strength returning.  I just wish I could be fighting alongside our friends in that castle.  Alucard is a skilled warrior, but so is Mihnea, and the latter has no great love for his brother.  Alucard’s compassion will be his greatest weakness when dealing with Mihnea.”

Liam felt a knot in his stomach as he saw the castle’s reflection on the surface of the lake.  Its towers waved gently back and forth on the calm waters, and only a few stars remained to ornament its dark form.  His eyes shot up to look at the actual castle, which stretched into the night sky above them.  The horizon was getting brighter, and the sun would be coming up at any moment.  He watched as a few early morning hikers strode through the snow to their destination at the top of the hill, and anxiously searched for any sign of his loved ones coming out.

“Do you feel that?” the old man asked him, scanning the landscape curiously.

“Yeah, actually I do,” Liam agreed nervously.  The ground beneath them had begun to vibrate gently.  “Feels like we’re having a bit of an earthquake.  I’ve never been through one before, have you?”

The old man cracked a smile.  “It’s no earthquake, lad.  Look up there!”

Liam turned to look back at the castle.  It was now shaking as if Atlas himself had seized the foundation, attempting to beat the citadel back into the stone and sand from which it had come.

“They did it,” Liam whispered.  “HEY, YEAH, THEY DID IT!  THEY DESTROYED THAT GATEWAY!”  He began to jump up and down and clap his hands furiously.  The Dragon grinned and laughed to see the boy’s excitement.

“Now they just need to get out of there before the place comes down on top of them,” Liam said, a bit more seriously.

“That should be the easy part,” the Dragon told him, pushing himself up to sit on a large flat rock.  “Let’s pray that they all made it through the battle safely.”

The highest tower of the castle crashed down into rubble, taking one of the shorter towers and part of the western wall along with it.  Dust shot into the morning air, and a horrible racket echoed off the mountains around them, yet the hikers seemed to take little notice.  As he watched them, Liam thought that a few might be suspecting something.  One man put his hand on his companion’s shoulder, stopping him to ask if he’d just felt something- at least that’s what it looked like to Liam.

And then, as they watched Dracula’s castle crumble before their eyes, something fascinating began to happen.  The castle began to fade.  The outline of the mountains behind it could be seen in the distance, and rays from the rising sun peaked through its walls as they would through parting storm clouds.

Liam watched eagerly for his father and friends to come racing out.  Although he didn’t have direct line of sight on the main entrance, he’d be able to see them within seconds of coming out.

Steadily the castle continued to fade, as did the clamor of its collapse, until at last, like the remnants of a nightmare dissolving from a waking sleeper, only a memory of it remained.

Liam gawked in disbelief as the hikers treaded the mountainside to explore the ruins of Poenari Castle.

“They’re…they’re gone,” he muttered, not wanting to believe his own words.  Were they all dead?  Had they disappeared along with the castle to some ethereal realm, unable to return to the land of living men?  How could this have happened?  He could only keep looking, keep hoping that they’d still appear walking toward them on the path down the hillside.

“What are you looking at?” Abigail asked, coming up beside him.

He shot around to see all of them standing there next to the lake.

“BUT, BUT, HOW DID YOU….” Liam shouted, ending with a finger pointed up to where the castle had just stood.

His father grinned.  “Alucard led us out through a tunnel that comes out down here by the lake.  It’s right over there.  Although to be honest, I was a wee bit worried there for a while that we weren’t going to make it out.”

Liam smiled broadly at Michael, who was being held up by Magda and his own father.  Traces of dried blood encrusted his nose and the front of his shirt.  “What in the world happened to you?  You look like death warmed over.”

Michael grinned back feebly.  “It’s good to see you too, Liam.”

Alucard knelt down to inspect his grandfather, who greeted him in a warm embrace.

Michael looked up at the ruins on the hilltop, and for a moment was tempted to wonder if it had all been some terrible nightmare, but all the proof he needed to tell him otherwise was gathered around him.  Caleb’s face was smudged, and a bit of cobweb clung to his shoulder.  His uncle Link stood carrying the unconscious body of Elizabeth.  He had a sheepish look on his face, and grinned half-heartedly upon catching Michael’s eyes.  Mr. MacDonald caught his son up in a great bear hug, lifting him several feet from the ground and giving him a loving squeeze.

Everyone around him looked tired and shaken, and he could only imagine how he looked.  The face that drew his attention the most however, was Magda’s.  He could see something in her face that hadn’t been there before.  It took him a moment to put his finger on what it was.  Magda looked…relieved.  She smiled at him with a new twinkle in her eyes.  A great burden, which had cursed her family for generations, had finally been lifted, and now she would have peace.

CHAPTER TWENTY

You Can Go Home Again

The grass was still wet from the morning showers, and the air smelled clean and fresh.  The sun peaked out from behind the veil of dark clouds, and it looked like the rain had finally decided to move on.

Michael fidgeted nervously with his umbrella, and listened as the priest finished up the funeral service.  Once it was all over and a final prayer had been given, most of the other guests finished paying their respects and began to leave.  Michael just continued to stand there and look down at the coffin, thinking about how brave and fascinating this person had been.  To pass such a soul on the street, one would never have any idea what an extraordinary individual they’d just come in contact with.  He wondered if he might look at everyone a bit differently from then on, and take a moment to consider what kind of story each person might have to tell.

“Goodbye,” he said, looking down at the casket.  “I’m sorry I didn’t get a chance to know you better, but I hope you’re in a happier place now; a safe place.”  Michael dropped a white rose onto the coffin to join the flowers already resting there.

He gazed at his family, who were standing across from him.  Abigail stood between their parents, holding her father’s hand.  She wiped a tear away, and caught his gaze for a moment before looking back down at the coffin.

Magda, who was standing beside him, took his hand.  She grinned at him warmly as they turned to walk away.

As the crowd thinned, Michael saw a pair of familiar faces, waiting there to meet them.  Although he had seen the two men just a few weeks earlier, Michael felt a surge of excitement.  The Dragon smiled at him with sad eyes, nodding as they walked up to greet him.  Standing beside him was a man whose milky white face sharply contrasted his black suit and bowler hat.

Michael shook their hands.  “I’m glad to see you’re alright,” he told the old man.  “You were in pretty bad shape the last time I saw you.”

“I could say the same to you,” the Dragon reminded him.  “You’re looking much better as well.”  He put his hand on Magda’s shoulder.  “And the last time I had a good look at you, you had the weight of the world on your shoulders.  I can see you more clearly now, I can see the reflection of long lost friends in your face.  I think you have much happiness to look forward to.”

She beamed back at him.

“Well,” the Dragon told them, “I had to make a quick recovery.  Like I told you before, I still had some unfinished business to take care of.”  He glanced at Alucard and smiled.  “There’s a lot of things I never got to discuss with my grandson.  Besides, it’s refreshing to have a relative that isn’t intent on killing you or trying to conquer all of Europe.”

Michael laughed, but immediately felt guilty for it.  “I’m sorry,” he said, glancing over his shoulder to the casket.  “I didn't mean to be disrespectful.”

“No, no,” the Dragon said with a wave of his hand.  “Don’t be sorry.  I think Dorothy would like to hear us laughing.  If fact, she’s probably laughing too.”  He patted Alucard on the back.  “Besides, it’s the best medicine, or so I’m told.”

“So what are the two of you going to do now?” Michael asked them.

Alucard straightened his hat.  “Mihnea may be gone, but many creatures of darkness still roam free because of my father’s evil deeds.  Our work is not yet finished.  We have several leads to follow up, and we’ll be heading to our first destination immediately.”

“Really, where’s that?” Michael asked.  “Somewhere here in Ireland?”

Alucard shook his head.  “Apparently, a small family of blood-suckers is causing trouble in a rural town of western Washington.  We want to eliminate the coven before the problem gets out of hand.”

“Besides,” the Dragon told him, “when you’ve been hunting monsters for seventeen hundred years, the work kind of grows on you.”

Michael’s family and the MacDonalds walked up, and Michael introduced the Dragon to his mother.

“Thanks for helping our kids,” she said while shaking the old man’s hand.

“Oh, it was my pleasure.  But I couldn’t have done so, had they not helped me first.”  He gave Abigail a friendly pat on the head.  “It’s good to see you again, young lady.”  He pulled something out of his jacket pocket and held it out to her.  “Before Dorothy passed, she asked me to give this to you.”  She reached out and took the thin golden chain from his hand, holding it up to examine the small, gleaming cross as it swung through the air.

Rachel watched as her daughter’s eyes filled with tears, and pulled her into a tight hug.

“She told me this belonged to her mother,” Abigail wept.  “Why would she give it to me?”

Rachel stroked the girl’s hair.  “Well, she knew that the two of you shared something special.  You both survived a horrible experience, and I think she admired your bravery and courage.  In spirit, she thought of you a little bit like a daughter.”

“I don’t think I’m all that brave, or courageous.  In fact, now I’m just as scared of vampires as I am of werewolves.  I never want to see another monster again.”

Mark laughed, but not unkindly.  “Of course you don’t, and you’d be a fool if you did.  But you can’t be brave unless you feel afraid.  And you can’t show courage unless you’re scared.  Mrs. Stoker was very proud of you, but not half as proud as we are.”

Rachel kissed her on the forehead and together they walked over and placed their flowers on Dorothy’s casket.

“I’m glad she got to see you again before she died,” Declan told the Dragon.  “She spoke very highly of you, and it always pained her not to have known your fate.”

The Dragon sighed and a look of remorse washed over his face.  “I’m sorry to have left her like that, all those years ago.  But at least we got to say goodbye.  She was the first person I went to look up after leaving the castle.”  He glanced at Alucard and grinned.  “But, I have a new family now.  We’d better get going.  We wouldn’t want our leads to grow cold.”

Even Alucard managed a smile as they all shook hands again and said goodbye.  “I hope to see you again someday soon,” he told Michael.

“I promise not to shoot you next time,” Michael assured him.

“I’m glad to hear that.  But next time I’ll come to the front door and knock so you won’t have a reason to.”

Michael and the others watched as their friends waved farewell and vanished into the distance.

“That’s quite a remarkable family,” Michael’s father said as they turned to head for the car.

Michael chuckled.  “And ours isn’t?  Anyway, what’s the plan for us?  Are we going to be staying at McGinty Castle while our house is finished?”

“No, we’ll be leaving for Mexico City in two days.  Your mother and I have some overdue research that we need to get started on before we return home.”

“Mexico City?  Can’t I stay at McGinty Castle with Liam until it’s time to go back to Arizona?  I promised to help him out with something.  Besides, I’d like to spend a little more time with…um—”  He glanced over at Magda, who was speaking with his mother and sister.

“I’m sorry, if it was up to me, I’d let you return to Scotland with the MacDonalds.  But as things stand, your mother would kill me.  She’s not going to let you and Abigail out of her sight for a while.  Besides that, Magda won’t be going to McGinty Castle either.”

“What do you mean she’s not going to McGinty Castle?  Is she coming with us?” he asked hopefully.

His father grinned.  “No, she’s not coming with us.  Why don’t you ask her about it yourself.”

Michael wasn’t sure he liked the sound of that.

The small countryside restaurant bustled with the laughter and chitchat of its customers, and as the chubby young waitress stopped to gather their empty plates, she gave the children a flustered smile.

Michael glanced over to the table beside them, where the adults were happily engaged in their own conversation, and then returned his gaze to Magda, who was sitting beside him.  This was a bittersweet moment, because today he’d be saying goodbye to her as well as Caleb and the MacDonalds.  It always depressed him to have to say goodbye.

Michael looked at the small faery lantern in his hands.  It was covered with dirt and grime.  He pulled up his shirt and gave it the best scrub that he could manage.

“Don’t do that to your shirt,” his sister reprimanded.  “Boys are so gross sometimes.”

Magda smiled at her and nodded, then took a sip of tea.

Michael ignored them and handed the trinket to Liam.  “Here, you’d better keep this.”

“Huh?  What’s that supposed to mean?  This one was given to you!  Mine was lost for a reason.  I don’t expect you to give me yours.”

“Don’t argue with me about it.  It might be a while before our family makes it out to McGinty Castle again.  What if you need it?  What if you have a chance to investigate what you told me about the forest?”

“What?” interrupted Abigail.  “What did he tell you about the forest?”

“Mind your own business,” Michael commanded her.  Then he turned back to Liam.  “Look, I don’t think I’m going to need it anyway.  Watch this!”

Michael concentrated for a few moments, and his ring began to glow.  He cupped his hand over it so that nobody else would take notice.

“I’ve been practicing.  I don’t think I’ll be spending any more money on flashlight batteries.  Besides, I think this ring may be capable of doing some things we don’t even know about yet.”

“Michael, your nose,” Magda said to him, holding up a napkin and wiping a drop of blood away.

“Oh, right.  Thanks.  I don’t think it’s quite healed from that scuffle with the ghoul,” he told her, trying to brush it off, but she didn’t look convinced.

Michael looked back at Liam.

“Are you sure about this?” he asked apprehensively as Michael handed him the lantern.

“Absolutely.”

“Thanks,” said Liam.  He sounded truly appreciative, but also a bit sad.

“What’s wrong?” Michael asked.

“I just hoped you’d be able to come into the forest with me.  I don’t know if I’ll be able to do it alone.”

Magda put her hand on his shoulder.  “Liam, I don’t know exactly what you two are talking about, but you’ve proven to be very brave.  You killed Dagon single-handedly.  Whatever it is you have to face, I’m sure you can do it.”

“And don’t worry," put in Michael, "the first chance I get to come out and visit, I will.”

“Thanks,” Liam told them.  “I’m really going to miss you guys.”

“Give Sir Nigel a rub on the belly for me,” Abigail told him, and he smiled.

Magda gave Michael an uncertain grin.

“It’s his bulldog,” he assured her.

Everyone laughed.

“Can we take a little walk outside?” she whispered to him.

“Excuse us for just a minute,” he told Liam and Abigail.  He saw them snicker to each other as he and Magda pushed in their chairs.

“We’ll be right back,” he told his father, who winked back.

The air was a bit cold outside, but the sunlight felt warm against his skin, and the green Irish countryside provided a beautiful view.  They walked a short distance down the road before stopping to observe some grazing cattle.

Michael turned to Magda and looked into her gorgeous brown eyes.

“I can’t believe we have to say goodbye,” he told her.  “Just when we’re starting to get to know each other.  Are you sure this is what you want?”

Magda nodded.  “I’ve spoken to both Caleb and your father about it.  The Order of the Dragon almost never accepts female members, and they actually asked me to join.  They’ll help me hone my skills and teach me new things, make me a better fighter.  I think it’s the best chance I have of making my life really mean something.”

“It already means something,” Michael protested.  “It means a lot!”

“I know,” she said, shaking her head.  “I just mean that I want to help others.  I want to protect them, the same way that you and your family helped me when I needed it.  There are so many people out there who are hurting, who need help and don’t know how to get it.  This world is full of evil, and I want to do my part to fight it.”

“I understand,” Michael told her.  “And I think it’s noble and wonderful.  I think you’re wonderful, and I…I support your decision.  I just don’t want to have to say goodbye.”

“Well, it isn’t really goodbye, not forever anyway.  We can still write each other.  I’m not sure we’ll be able to talk for a while though; I don’t think they have phones at the monastery.  I’ll have to ask Caleb about that.”

Caleb’s image suddenly popped into Michael’s head.  He eyed the apparition suspiciously.  He wasn’t too keen on the idea of Magda running off to some unknown mountain fortress with someone like him.  He was handsome, strong and brave- not to mention older.  Even though Caleb was a good friend, as far as Magda was concerned, Michael saw him as competition.  And how many others like him would Magda be around?  At a place where there were barely any women- possibly no others!

Magda seemed to suspect what he was thinking, and smiled.  “It’s not like you’re my boyfriend or anything.”

Michael’s heart sank.  He didn’t like how one girl’s comments could hold so much sway over his feelings.

“Although,” she added, “you might be someday.  And in the meantime, I believe you owe me a kiss.”

Michael’s heart leapt.  “Oh really?  How do you figure that?  Not that I’m arguing,” he added quickly.

“A kiss for a cut, isn’t that your rule?”

Michael remembered that horrible moment in Dracula’s castle, when he had to cut Magda’s arm to get her blood on the sword.  It made him feel guilty.  He looked down at his feet.  “I’m sorry about that,” he muttered.

She gently lifted his head up and smiled.

“It’s okay,” she assured him, “but you’d better make this a good one.”

Magda grabbed him by the shirt and pulled him in until their lips touched, and instead of feeling nervous, this time the experience made him feel warm all over.  It was the kind of warmth you get from sitting beside a roaring fire on a cold winter day, a penetrating, happy warmth.  He closed his eyes and enjoyed it for as long as he dared, and as the kiss ended he pulled the girl into a fierce hug.

“Promise me you’ll take care of yourself.”

“I promise,” she agreed with a nod.  “Thanks for everything you’ve done for us, me and my brother.  You’ll help me keep an eye on him, won’t you.”

“I will.  And don’t worry, Mr. MacDonald will make sure he’s taken care of until he recovers.”

“I know he will,” she said with a smile.  “It feels good to have friends you can trust again.”  She looked out at the cows, which gazed back at her curiously while chewing their cud.

They stood standing there together for a few minutes, enjoying the view and each other’s presence.  The sun would be setting soon.

“Isn’t it about time to head back,” Magda asked reluctantly.

“No,” Michael said, putting his arm around her.  “I think we still have a few more minutes.”

After three months in Mexico City, Michael was glad to be back in more familiar territory.  He’d actually enjoyed himself in Mexico much more than he thought he would.  His mother had taken over teaching him and Abigail, so they’d gotten to tour and see a lot more of the sights than they usually did when they traveled with their parents.  Still, Michael was very relieved to be back in Prescott, and was eager to see how their house was coming along.

Mark pulled up in front of the Belmont home and parked alongside the road.

“I can’t believe it,” Michael said to him.  “It looks just like it did before.  It’s like nothing ever happened.”

“Well, it’s pretty empty on the inside.  We’re going to have to make a visit or two to the furniture store.  There have been a few improvements made too.  Your mother has been pestering me forever to have the kitchen and bathrooms redone, so those are going to look a bit different.  You might notice a few other changes as well.”

“Like what?” Abigail asked him.

“Go see for yourself,” he told them.

Michael and Abigail hopped out of the car and ran through the yard, bursting through the front door as if they were going to raid the place.  The house looked much the same, but different, as if it had been remodeled.  There was now a hardwood floor in the living room, and Michael walked into the kitchen to see it had been painted in a warm yellow color, and new stone tiles decorated the floor.

Michael’s mind wandered to some of his last memories of the kitchen as it used to be, when Elizabeth had worked with him and Abigail on their school assignments at the table.  He missed her, and wondered when she would come back.  After her experience in Dracula’s Castle, and seeing his Uncle Link as a wolf-man, she’d decided to take some time to work things out.  That’s what his mother had told him, although he didn’t really understand why.  He just hoped she’d come back soon.

Abigail suddenly shot past him and he turned to race her upstairs.  The layout was just like it had been before, but the carpets and the colors of the rooms had been changed.  Michael entered his room, which was now painted red and navy-blue, to find a new bed and dresser, as well as a picture of his family hanging by the door.  All of his old things were gone, and it saddened him to think of everything that had burned up and turned to ash.  But at least he still had the rifle he’d gotten for Christmas, and his bow, and a few other things he’d kept in the garage.  It’s all just stuff, he told himself.  At least now it would be a lot easier to clean his room.

“MICHAEL?” came Abigail’s voice from down the hall.  “HAVE YOU LOOKED IN YOUR CLOSET YET?”

“NO.”

“YOU MIGHT WANT TO!”

Michael walked to his closet and opened the sliding mirrored door.  It looked like a plain old empty closet, but at eye level he noticed a small round piece of glass in the back wall.  He approached to take a closer look, and when he got within a few inches a red flash of light shot into his eye.

“Identity verified,” came a deep male voice.  “Michael Belmont- access granted.”

A high-pitched whir began as the wall in the back of the closet slid several feet away, revealing an opening in the floor that angled down sharply on the right side.  It was the top of a slide.

“Well, here goes nothing.”  He sat down on the slide and let go.  He slid through a narrow tunnel, which curved this way and that, reminding him of the tubular slides he’d gone through at the park as a child, until it suddenly took a very steep downward turn, and as he descended at an incredible speed he felt as if his stomach had been left back up at the top.  Upon reaching the bottom, his heart pounded in excitement as he stood to his feet.  He eagerly looked around for a ladder that would take him to the top so he could do it again, but the only thing he saw was a solid steel door.

As he approached, the door slid open and Michael stepped out into the familiar surroundings of the control room in his father’s relic vault.  To his surprise, the Cisco Kid was sitting at the chair in front of the central monitor.

“MICHAEL,” he yelled enthusiastically while leaping to his feet.

“Hey, Francisco.  What are you doing down here?”

“Your dad gave me a job.  I’m the controller down here now.  He said that since I was so inquisitive and he couldn’t keep me out anyway he might as well make it official.”

Michael held back a laugh.  “That’s great, Cisco.  You look a little different somehow.”  Michael looked him over, and suddenly realized that for the first time in a year the boy wasn’t wearing a superhero outfit.  He was dressed in blue jeans and a simple black t-shirt.

“Oh, you mean the costumes don’t you,” Cisco laughed.  “I guess I decided I didn’t need them anymore.  Now that I’m working for a real super-hero there’s no need to pretend anymore is there?”

Michael just smiled and nodded.  Even if he tried to explain that his mother wasn’t a super-hero Cisco wouldn’t believe him, and why burst the kid’s bubble.

“How’s Abby doing?” Cisco asked.  “Your dad says she’s been through a pretty tough time lately.”

Michael nodded.  “She has been.  But I think she’s going to be okay now.  I imagine she’ll be coming down any time.”

“Great.  I’ve really been looking forward to seeing her.  Abby’s such a nice girl.  I really love her.  She’s my best friend you know.”

“I know she is.  I love her too; she’s a great little sister.”  Michael patted Cisco on the back and turned to head for the waterfall.  He wanted to see where that elevator would take him.  “Congrats on the new job, Cisco.”

“Thanks.”

Michael waited as the platforms extended out of the cavern wall, but hesitated for a moment before stepping toward the elevator, and looked back over his shoulder.  He remembered how Abigail had kept her secret from him for so long, and decided it was time for some payback.  “Hey, Cisco, when Abigail gets down here make sure you ask her about the new super-hero in town.”

“A new super-hero?” he grinned excitedly.

“Yup.  I believe people are calling her the Cantankerous Cougar.”

Michael chuckled to himself as he stepped across the platform and into the elevator.  The door closed behind him and he looked down at the numbered keypad of the control panel.

“All right,” he said to himself.  “Time to find out where this thing goes.”

Rachel Belmont dropped a handful of ice cubes into her glass and filled it to the brim with fresh-squeezed lemonade.  She closed her eyes and allowed her mind to wander back to some of the few, good memories of her childhood while the sweet and sour flavors trickled across her tongue.  How old was she when her grandmother had taught her to make lemonade?  Four or five years old?  The old woman had been a bit batty, her father was right about that, but she’d always been kind to her granddaughter.  In truth, the whole family was crazy, and Rachel always found herself wondering how she’d managed to come out as normal as she had.  Sometimes she even questioned that.

As painful as the past could be, Rachel had learned to reach in and grasp those happy memories, wherever they could be found; to hold on to them and cherish them.  It was like finding a diamond in the rough, a treasure in a junkyard.  There was always something good, something beautiful to be found if you were willing to search for it, to seize hold of it and not let go.

Her grandmother’s kind, silly face stuck in her mind as she reached into her pocket and pulled out the old, iron amulet.  She examined the stone, looking hard for the triple spiral she’d seen after Michael had held it in Denver.  As hard as she looked, all she saw was plain, gray rock.

She’d found herself wondering a thousand times what mysteries this thing might hold, and after what happened in Denver with Michael’s ring, her curiosity and wonder about the artifact had only intensified.

Perhaps Michael could get some answers from it, using the ring of Anubis.  But Rachel still wasn’t completely convinced that such an attempt would be safe, and no mystery was worth endangering the health of her son.

“He’s going to be looking for you now, even though I’ve told him not to,” she said to the amulet, as if it could hear her.  “I know that kid, his curiosity will eventually get the best of him.  I’m going to have to put you someplace he’ll never think to look.”

She walked to the cupboard and pulled down a ceramic jar containing flour.  It was nearly empty, that was good.  Taking a large plastic freezer bag from a nearby drawer, she placed the amulet inside and squeezed out the excess air before sealing it up and pressing it down into the jar.  Then she took a new bag of flour from the pantry and filled the jar up nearly to the top.

“That should do the trick,” she whispered while pushing the jar to the back of the cabinet.  “Pigs will fly before that boy cooks anything.”

Rachel wore a self-satisfied grin as she went back to her lemonade, sitting down at the kitchen table with the new mystery novel a friend had recommended.  Link and Raymond would be coming over for dinner later, but she had a few hours left before needing to prepare.

She breathed a long sigh of relief and opened up the book; more than ready to enjoy a little peace and quiet.  All of life’s problems could finally be set aside, at least for a while.  Soon she was immersed in the story, and did not notice the yellow streak of the little mountain lion leaping from its hiding place to spring out the kitchen door.

Michael stood looking at the keypad, wondering what code to try next.  He’d already punched in their street address, as well as his mother’s and Abigail’s birthdays, but the elevator hadn’t gone anywhere.

He was in the middle of putting in his own birthday when his father’s voice came over the intercom.  “When you’re sick of horsing around in there, put in the code 1-2-3-4-5.”

“What?” Michael laughed.  “That’s the kind of code an idiot would have on his luggage.”

“I heard that,” his father responded.

Michael pressed in the code, and the elevator immediately began to descend.  It felt like it was moving pretty fast, but he had no way of telling exactly how fast.

“Where am I going?” he asked.

“I’ve got a few things to show you,” his father answered.  “You’re coming all the way to the bottom.”

Michael wondered exactly how far down into the earth this elevator went.  He was about to ask when he felt it come to a stop.  The door slid open and he stepped out to find his father waiting for him holding two Coleman lanterns, one of which he handed to Michael.

They were in a rough looking underground cavern.  It wasn’t all that big, and the ceiling was just a few feet over his father’s head.

“All right, first things first,” he said, handing Michael a long object wrapped up in a dark blue cloth.

He recognized that cloth.  His eyes widened.  “Hey, is this what I think it is?” he asked while unfolding it.  It was!  He was holding the Sword of Van Helsing.  “But…the blade was shattered when the gateway was destroyed.  I saw Alucard pull the hilt out.”

“He and the Dragon re-forged it for me.  Turns out the old man has become a pretty good weapon-smith over the last seventeen centuries.”

Michael looked over the new blade, which gleamed impressively under the lantern light.

“The blade was folded 20 times, heated by the fires of Mt. Etna, and cooled by water carried from the top of Everest.  Alucard said you’d be hard pressed to find this sword’s equal.”

Michael was impressed.  “It seems a lot lighter than it was before, too.  So what are you going to do with it?  Keep it stored down here somewhere?”

“For now.  But the way I see it, the sword doesn’t belong to me anymore.  Not that it ever did,” he shrugged.  “I was just its caretaker, really.”

“Magda?” Michael asked.

He nodded.  “I thought you might like to give it to her.  Thought it might earn you an extra point or two.  That is, unless you’d rather give it to Olaf?”

Michael chuckled.  “No,” he said, shaking his head.  “I definitely think the sword should go to Magda, and not just because I lo…because I like her.  Thanks.”

His father grinned knowingly.  “Good, now leave that thing here and follow me.  There’s something else you need to see.”

Michael put the sword in the elevator and followed him through the cavern.  They walked for a few dozen feet before their path turned sharply to the left, and narrowed considerably.  At one point, they each had to squeeze through sideways.

“I wonder if Liam could get through here?” Michael said with a smile.

“Maybe during the summer,” his father answered.  “But I wouldn’t bring him down the day after Thanksgiving.”

“So, you gonna tell me where we’re going?”

“Patience is a virtue.  Besides, we’re nearly there now.”

The passage widened back up, but the ceiling became so low that they had to get down on their hands and knees to crawl for a while, until it opened back up into another cavern, a bit bigger than the one the elevator had let them out in.

Two folding chairs and a folding table were set up, and piles of paper were stacked upon it.  Lit torches hung from the walls, lighting the place up nicely.

“I’ve been meaning to run some power down,” his father told him.  “Just haven’t been able to get to it yet.”

Michael walked to the table.  A framed picture of their family stood next to an unlit lantern and a soup can filled with pencils.  He picked up a large sheet of paper, which showed an elaborate but incomplete map.  “Dad, what is all this?”

“You’ve been studying cartography.  You tell me.”

Michael carefully examined each of the maps, allowing what he was seeing to soak in.  “This doesn’t look like any normal network of caverns.  At least, that’s not all it is.”

His father looked over his shoulder.  “And?”

Picking up the largest map, which gave him a broad view, Michael noticed two bodies of water on either side of the page.  “Are these oceans?”

“Of course.  My drawing hasn’t gotten that bad, has it?”

He moved his finger to a point near the top of the map.  “This is where we are, right?  This is the section beneath Prescott?”

“Good.  Now leave your lantern here and follow me.  You need to see this for yourself.”  He handed him a small black flashlight.

Michael followed him to the back wall of the cavern, where a large steel hatch protruded from the floor.

“What the heck is this?” Michael asked.  “Did you have it put in?”

His father nodded.  “I discovered this hole shortly after the elevator was installed.  My original plan was to develop this cavern into a maximum security section of the vault, but all that changed when I saw what waited at the bottom of this hole.”

He opened the padlock and withdrew the chain, and nodded for Michael to help him lift the lid.  After it was raised, he cast down a rope ladder and began the climb, holding his flashlight in his teeth.  Michael waited until he reached the bottom and called back up to follow.

The hole remained narrow for about a dozen feet before opening up into another chamber.  He climbed an additional ten feet before reaching the ground, where he hopped down, took his flashlight from his teeth, and shone it all around.  They were in some kind of ancient circular tunnel, with brick walls and ceiling.  Michael shone his flashlight down in both directions, where the light was eventually swallowed up in darkness.

Michael couldn’t believe what he was seeing.  “This really goes all the way to Mexico City?  This is what you’ve been researching for the last three months?”

“This particular tunnel doesn’t go all the way there, but it connects with a network that does.  And yes, this is what I’ve been researching.”

“But, how is it even possible?  How could something like this even be built?”

“That’s a very good question,” his father said.  “But it’s not the most important question, is it?”

Michael continued to gaze down into the darkness.  “No,” he agreed.  “The most important question is- why was it built?”

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Ethan Russell Erway, author of the ADVENTURES OF MICHAEL BELMONT fantasy series, and THE BLEEDING STAR CHRONICLES adult novellas, has been a life long fan of the fantasy and science fiction genres. His third book, MICHAEL BELMONT AND THE CURSE OF THE THUNDERBIRD, is due for release in late 2013.  Ethan has a Bachelor of Sacred Literature degree from Summit Theological Seminary, and is the Minister at Agua Fria Christian Church in Humboldt, AZ where he lives with his wife Kara and sons Gabriel and Caleb.

Connect with Me Online:

http://www.EthanRussellErway.com

http://twitter.com/@ethanerway

http://www.Facebook.com/EthanRussellErway

Acknowledgments:

Special thanks go to all these wonderful people!  My lovely wife Kara, Jane White, Kyle Wachs, Zach Cagley, Liz Peters, Kelly LeGris, and Amanda Wachs.

Many thanks to Steph Roman for her excellent work on the cover illustration.  To view more of Steph's work, visit-  www.stephroman.com  and  www.youtube.com/msstephroman

My thanks also go to everyone who invests their time in reading this book.

Table of Contents

Title

Dedication

Prologue

Chapter One - You Can't Go Home Again

Chapter Two - Jumping to Conclusions

Chapter Three - The Wolves Ate My Homework

Chapter Four - Crying Wolf

Chapter Five - The Sword of Van Helsing

Chapter Six - Aftermath

Chapter Seven - Alucard

Chapter Eight - The Netherlands

Chapter Nine - The Heir of Van Helsing

Chapter Ten - An Angry Mob

Chapter Eleven - Flying Lessons

Chapter Twelve - Enter the Dragon

Chapter Thirteen - The Tomb of the DragonSlayer

Chapter Fourteen - A Wedding or Four Funerals

Chapter Fifteen - George and the Dragon

Chapter Sixteen - The Master of the Castle

Chapter Seventeen - Spirited Away

Chapter Eighteen - Reunions

Chapter Nineteen - A Symphony of Lamentations

Chapter Twenty - You Can Go Home Again

About the Author

Acknowledgments: