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.I glanced down at my own chest and was relieved to see there a large golden crucifix.So she continued to writhe and wail, struggling to climb out of the coffin, to flee from her torment, but my presence at her side entrapped her.Release her, a voice commanded—firm and calm, yet edged with indignant anger.She has suffered enough! Release her at once!I glanced up to see Arminius standing at my side, all trace of the grinning idiot gone; he instead shone with the same determined glory, the same magnificent authority I had seen in the Impaler upon his throne.I stared awestruck at his commanding dark eyes, at his aura of physical strength, at his long white hair and beard that blazed like a white-hot flame: the Son of Man in Revelation, with feet of brass and hair like white wool.Harden your heart, Abraham.Pity her now, and she is doomed to suffer.Strike again.Strike!The sight gave courage.Again I retracted my aura and found the action brought renewed calm, renewed strength.I rose on trembling legs and, eschewing fear, thrust out my hand and righted the stake, ignoring the girl's flailing limbs, her champing teeth now flecked with foam, the once-lovely face now contorted into a hellish Medusan rictus.The cross protected; she could only recoil from my touch.And I struck—this time, a mighty blow that rang echoing throughout the shadowed chamber.The girl gave out a high shrill cry as the stake pierced through cartilage and muscle until it reached the spine.I swallowed all pity and fear and watched with a fierce determination, ready to strike again if need be.But she released a single shudder, then fell eternally still —and upon her face I watched a transformation subtle yet as stunning as the one Arkady had undergone when he returned to his true mortal state.The unearthly loveliness fled like the snuffing of a lamp and was replaced by a pale, purely human beauty—a beauty that to me was far dearer.For she lay before me a sweet mortal child, her features plain and pinched, her skin the dull waxen grey of a corpse, her lips bloodless and slightly parted, her eyes clouded, sightless.I closed those unseeing eyes and bent down to give her cool forehead a kiss; hot tears spilled onto the lens of my spectacles and dripped upon her skin, for I could now dare mourn her.It is not yet finished, Arminius said.The knife.Reluctant, I unsheathed the blade and held it against the grey-white skin of her throat.But the sight of that innocent face held me back.Harden your heart, Abraham.It must be done to grant her rest; for the regenerative powers of the vampire are great.I again retracted my aura, which pity had caused to go out to the child again.Hardened my heart and did the task.Must I write of it here? That terrible final chore, of the brutal effect of that knife against her tender flesh, upon her frail bones, as I struggled to separate head from body?So it was done, quickly and bloodlessly, and I discovered within my coat a clove of garlic, which I gently put inside that tender litde mouth.And when I stepped from that chamber into the long, dark corridor again, I found that it led not to a dew-soaked spring morning in a graveyard but to the warm hearthstones in front of the fire.This was Arminius' cottage, at night.A quick glance at my hands confirmed that I was indeed myself, free of all strange unearthly glows and glimmers, completely mortal and dressed once more in the wool homespun undershirt.Beside me Arminius sat cross-legged, his white-furred companion's chin resting on his knee.They seemed entirely normal—except for a faint aura of sparkling gold limning them both.While my body seemed returned to its usual state, I can only say that my mind felt quite like the room itself—which appeared to contract and expand, seeming one minute peculiarly small, the next, vast as a great cathedral.I sat in front of the fire myself, my thoughts racing as I tried to make sense of these impossible new experiences.Arminius looked up from stroking the animal's head, his dark eyes filled not with humour or amusement but with sad compassion."You are a determined man, Abraham.With training, you shall achieve even more strength of will.In time, you will no longer require my help.""These.events," I said slowly."Are they real?""You are no vampire, my friend.But you must know the vampire's mind if you are to defeat him." "Then I did not kill the woman?" "You cannot kill what never existed." I nodded with relief."And the little girl?" "She was quite real.You have provided her with the truest help any man can: Now her soul is freed to ascend to the next level.Your father, Vlad, and Zsuzsanna have all enlisted human assistance in order to avoid creating others like themselves; but mortal aid of the sort you have just provided was not always available.So the vampire plague is now sprinkled throughout the continent."The revelation filled me with alarm."What can be done?" And before the question issued entirely from my lips, I was no longer seated in front of the warm reassuring glow of Arminius' hearth but was standing in an alleyway between two tall brick buildings.A nearby streetlamp cast a sliver of light over my boot-tops, revealing cobblestones lightly dusted with snow.The night was clear, bright with stars and moon, so bone-chilling it stung my nose, my cheeks, and turned my warm breath to mist.The rapidity of the sudden shift of scene made me slightly dizzy (as did the noxious smell of rotting garbage, festering somewhere nearby); I leaned against the nearest cold wall and tried to orient myself.This was a large city; for though the position of the moon and the deep blackness of the sky indicated a late hour, the wide avenue beyond the alley was not silent but singing with the click of horses' hooves and the creak of carriage wheels.The alley, however, was long and narrow and dark, somewhat sheltered from public view.I thought myself alone.But as surprise passed and my senses and attention slowly returned, I detected to my left, at the alley's walled-off end, a feminine voice, drunken and raucous and giggling.I turned-careful first to retract my aura as Arminius so often warned me to do—and spied, standing in a feeble pane of light, the source of the noise.A woman, white-skinned and voluptuously plump, with a round, plain face and ornate hair an unnatural shade of hennaed red—almost as red as her bright crimson gown, cinched impossibly tight at the waist, and so low-cut her full breasts seemed on the verge of spilling out.She stood against the brick wall, unmindful of the cold, her red cape pulled open and held back teasingly by red-gloved hands upon her hips to better reveal her wares."Come on, then," she said in German with full scarlet-painted lips, fluttering eyelids thickly lined with kohl.And she tossed her head, clumsily seductive, at her companion, who stood hidden by shadow.Apparently, her words were not enough, for the dark figure did not move; not until she grinned and revealed her secret—grabbing the folds at the front of her skirt and slowly parting them to reveal a petticoat beneath.then parting those folds as well to reveal black stockings and white thighs, and the golden-brown triangle at the top of her legs."Come on," she urged, with inebriated vehemence that verged on angry impatience."Come on."Her suitor stepped forward into the ribbon of light.I could see only his back but knew he was white-haired, rotund, well dressed [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]