‘Allow me to present the Countess Magpyr,’ he said. ‘These are the witches I told you about, dear. I believe you’ve met my son? And this is my daughter, Lacrimosa.’{23}
Agnes met the gaze of a thin girl in a white dress, with very long black hair and far too much eye make-up. There is such a thing as hate at first sight.
‘The Count was just telling me how he is planning to move into the castle and rule the country,’ said Verence. ‘And I was saying that I think we shall be honoured.’
‘Well done,’ said Nanny. ‘But if you don’t mind, I don’t want to miss the weasel man …’
‘The trouble is that people always think of vampires in terms of their diet,’ said the Count, as Nanny hurried away. ‘It’s really rather insulting. You eat animal flesh and vegetables, but it hardly defines you, does it?’
Verence’s face was contorted in a smile, but it looked glassy and unreal.
‘But you do drink human blood?’ he said.
‘Of course. And sometimes we kill people, although hardly at all these days. In any case, where exactly is the harm in that? Prey and hunter, hunter and prey. The sheep was designed as dinner for the wolf, the wolf as a means of preventing overgrazing by the sheep. If you examine your teeth, sire, you’ll see that they are designed for a particular kind of diet and, indeed, your whole body is constructed to take advantage of it. And so it is with us. I’m sure the nuts and cabbages do not blame you. Hunter and prey are all just part of the great cycle of life.’
‘Fascinating,’ said Verence. Little beads of sweat were rolling down his face.
‘Of course, in Uberwald everyone understands this instinctively,’ said the Countess. ‘But it is rather a backward place for the children. We are so looking forward to Lancre.’
‘Very glad to hear it,’ said Verence.
‘And so kind of you to invite us,’ she went on. ‘Otherwise we could not have come, of course.’
‘Not exactly,’ said the Count, beaming at his wife. ‘But I have to admit that the prohibition against entering places uninvited has proved curiously … durable. It must be something to do with ancient territorial instincts. But,’ he added brightly, ‘I have been working on an instructional technique which I’m sure will, within a few years—’
‘Oh, don’t let’s go through all that dull stuff again,’ said Lacrimosa.
‘Yes, I suppose it can sound a little tedious,’ said the Count, smiling benevolently at his daughter. ‘Has anyone any more of that wonderful garlic dip?’
The King still looked uneasy, Agnes noticed. Which was odd, because the Count and his family seemed absolutely charming and what they were saying made perfect sense. Everything was perfectly all right.
‘Exactly,’ said Vlad, beside her. ‘Do you dance, Miss Nitt?’ On the other side of the hall, the Lancre Light Symphony Orchestra (cond. S. Ogg) was striking up and out at random.
‘Ur …’ She stopped it turning into a giggle. ‘Not really. Not very well …’
Didn’t you listen to what they were saying? They’re vampires!
‘Shut up,’ she said aloud.
‘I beg your pardon?’ said Vlad, looking puzzled.
‘And they’re … well, they’re not a very good orchestra …’
Didn’t you pay any attention to what they were saying at all, you useless lump?
‘They’re a very bad orchestra,’ said Vlad.
‘Well, the King only bought the instruments last month and basically they’re trying to learn together—’
Chop his head off! Give him a garlic enema!
‘Are you all right? You really know there are no vampires here, don’t you …’
He’s controlling you! Perdita screamed. They’re … affecting people!
‘I’m a bit … faint from all the excitement,’ Agnes mumbled. ‘I think I’ll go home.’ Some instinct at bone-marrow level made her add, ‘I’ll ask Nanny to go with me.’
Vlad gave her an odd look, as if she wasn’t reacting in quite the right way. Then he smiled. Agnes noticed that he had very white teeth.
‘I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone like you, Miss Nitt,’ he said. ‘There’s something so … inner about you.’
That’s me! That’s me! He can’t work me out! Now let’s both get out of here! yelled Perdita.
‘But we shall meet again.’
Agnes gave him a nod and staggered away, clutching at her head. It felt like a ball of cotton wool in which there was, inexplicably, a needle.
She passed Mightily Oats, who’d dropped his book on the floor and was sitting groaning with his head in his hands. He raised it to look at her.
‘Er … miss, have you anything that might help my head?’ he said. ‘It really is … rather painful …’
‘The Queen makes up some sort of headache pills out of willow bark,’{24} Agnes panted, and hurried on.
Nanny Ogg was standing morosely with a pint in her hand, a hitherto unheard-of combination.
‘The weasel juggler didn’t turn up,’ she said. ‘Well, I’m going to put out the hard word on him. He’s had it in showbusiness in these parts.’
‘Could you … help me home, Nanny?’
‘So what if he got bitten on the essentials, that’s all part of— Are you all right?’
‘I feel really awful, Nanny.’
‘Let’s go, then. All the good beer’s gone and I’m not stoppin’ anyway if there’s nothin’ to laugh at.’
The wind was whistling across the sky when they walked back to Agnes’s cottage. In fact there seemed more whistle than wind. The leafless trees creaked as they passed, the weak moonlight filling the eaves of the woods with dangerous shadows. Clouds were piling in, and there was more rain on the way.
Agnes noticed Nanny pick up something as they left the town behind them.
It was a stick. She’d never known a witch carry a stick at night before.
‘Why have you got that, Nanny?’
‘What? Oh? Dunno, really. It’s a rattly old night, ain’t it …?’
‘But you’re never frightened of anything in Lan—’
Several things pushed through the bushes and clattered on to the road ahead. For a moment Agnes thought they were horses, until the moonlight caught them. Then they were gone, into the shadows on the other side of the road. She heard galloping among the trees.
‘Haven’t seen any of those for a long time,’ said Nanny.
‘I’ve never seen centaurs at all except in pictures,’ said Agnes.
‘Must’ve come down out of Uberwald,’ said Nanny. ‘Nice to see them about again.’
Agnes hurriedly lit the candles when she got into the cottage, and wished there were bolts on the door.
‘Just sit down,’ said Nanny. ‘I’ll get a cup of water, I know my way around here.’
‘It’s all right, I—’
Agnes’s left arm twitched. To her horror it swung at the elbow and waved its hand up and down in front of her face, as if guided by a mind of its own.{25}
‘Feeling a bit warm, are you?’ said Nanny.
‘I’ll get the water!’ panted Agnes.
She rushed into the kitchen, gripping her left wrist with her right hand. It shook itself free, grabbed a knife from the draining board and stabbed it into the wall, dragging it so that it formed crude letters in the crumbling plaster: