The Warlock Rock

Chapter Ten

Many miles away, the children followed the guide Puck had assigned them.

"Yet what is a vampire?" Cordelia asked.

"Have a care," said a reedy voice in front of them. "A root doth bulk up, to trip thee."

"Oh! I thank thee, elf." Cordelia lifted her skirts and stepped carefully over the root, following the foot-high manikin who led them. " Tis _hard going as the woods darken."

"It will be night soon," Fess said, "and the vampire will be active. We should return home and come here again by daylight, when the monster sleeps within his cave."

Magnus frowned. "Wherefore doth he so?"

"Because he will turn to dust if sunlight strikes him." Fess lifted his head sharply. "What am I speaking of? Vampires are mythical!"

"Any myth may gain weight and substance, in Grama-rye," Magnus assured him. "Yet thou hast not answered Delia, Fess. What is a vampire?"

Fess heaved a burst of white noise and answered. "A vampire, children, is a person who lives by drinking other people's blood."

Cordelia froze, horrified. Geoffrey made a retching noise. " Tis disgusting," Gregory said, looking a little green.

"Why do Other folk suffer such a one to live?" Magnus demanded.

"They do not, Magnus. When people learn of a vampire's existence, they generally attempt to slay it—but the monsters cannot truly be killed, for they are no longer completely alive."

"Immortal?" Magnus asked.

"Until they are disposed of, yes. A vampire can be immobilized indefinitely by driving a stake through its heart and burying it at a crossroad—or it can be burned."

"What of their souls?" Cordelia whispered.

"I am not programmed to conjecture about spiritual matters, Cordelia."

"Then there is no certain knowledge?"

"Surely their souls must be lost!" Geoffrey protested. "Have they not slain innocent folk?"

"Not precisely. Vampires generally do not take enough blood to kill a person at one sitting. But after several visits over a period of time, the victim becomes a vampire in his or her own turn."

"Thou dost not say so!" Cordelia gasped. "Is't to Ms that Arachne hath condemned the lass she sold to the vampire?"

"We must save her," Geoffrey said, with decision. Then he frowned, uncertain. "Or hath she already become like to him?"

"How are we to know?" Magnus asked.

"By her vitality, according to the literature. If she is listless and apathetic, the vampire is still feeding upon her; but if she is energetic and burning with greed, she has become a vampire herself."

"We shall know her when we see her, then." Magnus frowned. "If we can see aught, in this gloaming."

" 'Tis still light enough for that," the elf replied. He parted some ferns and breathed, "Behold!"

The sourceless twilight showed them a clearing in front of a cliff face. In its base, a crevice widened into a cave mouth seven feet high and four feet wide, with a semicircle of beaten earth before it and rubble to either side. The rubble must have contained some music-rocks, for a three-chord melody murmured through the clearing. The heavy thrumming of its bass notes seemed to be moving the feet of the girl who danced in front of the cave. Certainly she did not seem to be stepping by herself, for her face was drawn and pale, and her whole body limp and drooping, waving vaguely to the rhythm. She was perhaps sixteen, and should have been bursting with the vitality of youth, but her eyes were only half-open.

"Regard," Geoffrey breathed. "Her throat!"

The children stared, fascinated and repelled, at the cluster of double marks on the girl's neck.

"She is apathetic," Fess murmured.

"Why, 'tis so!" Cordelia lifted her head. "She doth care for naught! She is not yet herself a vampire!"

"We may save her, then." Magnus stood up, purpose settling about him like a cloak. "Come, my sibs." He stepped forward into the clearing.

"Beware," the elf said near his ankle. "When darkness falls, the vampire will come out."

"I await him with hunger to match his own," Geoffrey answered.

"Thou shouldst hide thee, elf," Gregory advised, hurrying after his brothers and sister.

"Why, so I shall," the elf answered. "Yet be sure, a score of Wee Folk do watch, and await thy need." Then he ducked down into the grass, and was gone.

Magnus stepped up to the girl and inclined his head. "Greetings, lass. I am called Magnus, and I would speak with thee."

The girl's glance strayed to his face, then strayed away. She gave no other sign of having heard him.

"Let me try." Cordelia moved in front of Magnus, gazing up at the bigger girl. "I am Cordelia. Wilt thou not pause to speak with me?"

The lass frowned slightly, her gaze wandering toward Cordelia; but it never quite arrived, for her face smoothed out, and she ended by gazing over the younger girl's head.

"Oh!" Cordelia said. "How rude! Wilt thou not cease dancing for a few moments' speech?"

"I doubt me an she can." Magnus beckoned to Geoffrey and Gregory. "Come, brothers! We must catch and hold her, an we wish speech with her."

"Done!" Geoffrey cried, and dove into a flying tackle.

"Not that way!" Magnus threw his arms around the girl, holding her up. Finally her gaze met his, looking up only a little, and her eyes widened, almost completely open.

"I have her feet," Geoffrey called out from below.

"And I have her arms." Magnus leaned back a little. "Now, lass! Tell me thy name!"

The girl just blinked at him, not understanding.

"Thy name," Magnus urged. "Thy name that folk do call thee by!"

She blinked again, and said, "What matter?"

"What matter!" Cordelia cried. "Wilt thou forget thyself also?"

The girl's eyes strayed to her. She blinked again, and yawned. "Mayhap. 'Tis naught."

"Naught!" Geoffrey exploded. "Is 'naught' thy name, then? Are we to call thee 'Naught'?—'Ho, Naught! How dost thou fare? 'Tis a fine day, Naught, is't not? Come, Naught, let us…' "

"Geoffrey!" Cordelia pinned him with a glare. "The poor lass hath grief enow, without thy…"

"Nay, I have no grief." The girl puckered her brow. "Yet thou art truly a rude fellow. An thou must needs know it, my name is Nan."

Geoffrey returned Cordelia's glare. "There are times when rudeness doth serve purpose, sister."

"Aye, it angered her enow to draw her from her apathy a moment." Gregory studied Nan, watching her face smooth into blandness again. "Yet only a moment. Dost thou care so little for thy name, lass?"

"I ha' told thee, 'tis naught," the girl murmured.

"And thy life?" Gregory whispered.

Finally, Nan sighed. "What matters life? The days do pass; one doth sleep, then doth wake to another day that swimmeth by."

"Wouldst thou liefer be dead?"

"I care not." She blinked several times and yawned again.

"Thou must needs care for summat!" Geoffrey insisted.

But Nan only shrugged once more, her eyelids fluttering, closing. Her head lolled to the side.

"She sleeps," Gregory observed with a start.

"Why, certes!" Cordelia lifted her head. "She hath so little of life within her that if she doth cease to move, she doth sleep! Brother, wake her!"

"Wake?" Magnus protested. "I do well to uphold her!"

" 'Tis thine office, sister," Gregory explained. "Thou art most skilled at moving thoughts within another's mind."

"Thou art not greatly less so," Cordelia huffed, but she turned to gaze intently at Nan, brow wrinkling with concentration. After a moment, the bigger girl sighed; her eyelids fluttered again, and she lifted her head, blinking and looking about her. She started to speak, but the words turned into a yawn, and she passed her tongue-tip over her lips as she looked about her. "What… ? Oh. Thou art not dreams, then?"

"Nay," Magnus assured her, "but thou shalt be little more than such, an thou dost not come away with us."

"Come away?" Finally, Nan's eyes opened almost fully. "Yet wherefore ought I?"

"For that an thou dost stay, thou wilt be turned into a thing of evil!"

Nan frowned, considering, then shrugged. "What matter what I shall become? I have a dry, warm chamber within. Its walls are hung with tapestries and the floor is covered with thick carpets. There be chairs and tables that glow with the rich gleam of grand woods, and a great couch with soft feather beds. Nor am I lonely, for a proud gentleman doth company me. In truth, he doth dote upon me, bringing me rich foods and fine wines, and doth dance and talk with me till I do sleep."

"Then doth he drink thy blood," Magnus told her, his face grim. " Tis therefore thou art so listless; 'tis therefore thou hast those marks upon thy throat."

Nan raised a hand, fumbling toward her neck. "These… they are but…" Her voice trailed off in confusion.

"He is a vampire," Cordelia explained, more gently. "He doth keep thee to bleed thee for his supper."

Nan frowned. "Oh. Doth he truly so?"

"I assure thee that he doth," Cordelia said, shocked. "Dost thou care naught?"

Nan's gaze strayed. "I think I do not. Upon a time, I might have—yet I do not now."

"Oh, but thou must!" Cordelia cried. "Come away with us! We may still save thee!"

"Save me?" Nan frowned, blinking. "From what?"

"From becoming thyself a vampire! An he doth continue to drain thee, thou shalt become like to him!"

"Oh." Nan pursed her lips, considering. "Is that so bad?"

"Why, 'tis horrible!" Cordelia insisted. "Wouldst thou do to another what he hath done to thee? Wouldst thou take the very life from another's veins?"

Nan concentrated, thinking it over…

"Do not let it trouble thee overlong," Geoffrey said, with sarcasm. "Come, wilt thou be good or evil? 'Tis as simple as that."

Nan blinked, thoroughly confused now, and Cordelia glared at her brother.

"An she truly careth naught," Gregory mused, "we have but to pose the question in another fashion… Nan, why not come with us?"

"Aye!" Cordelia added. "Wherefore not?"

Nan's brow creased in concentration. Then, finally, her face smoothed again. "Wherefore not, indeed?" She actually managed a slight smile as she lifted a hand. Magnus let her go, and stepped back—but her hand came on up to touch his. "Where wilt thou go?"

"Why, to the nearest village," he said, with immense relief. "Geoffrey, lead!"

Geoffrey didn't need persuading. He turned away, drawing his sword, and led them back along the path. Magnus followed, propping up Nan, with Cordelia and Gregory behind him and Fess bringing up the rear.

Geoffrey led them around a curve and under a huge old tree. As they neared it, Magnus pulled back. "Hold! There is summat about this oak that…"

A shadow stirred within shadows, detached itself, and stepped toward them, smiling. His clothes were black, and skintight; his face was white as paint, his eyes shadowed into points, and his lips very, very red. "Kiss," he said, reaching for Cordelia. "Kiss. Kiss."

She struck his hand away, stepping back, and Geoffrey leaped between them, stabbing upward at the vampire, then riposting—but the vampire only looked down at his shirt-front, nettled. "Thou hast ripped my cloth."

Geoffrey stared. There was no spreading stain, no blood on his sword.

The vampire grinned at his discomfiture, showing pointed fangs. "Nay, steel shall not harm me—and I hunger. An thou wilt not give me to drink, then return my lass to me." He reached for Nan.

"Avaunt!" Magnus struck his arm down, in spite of the crawling revulsion within him. "She is no thing of thine, but a woman sole in her own right, and no man's chattel."

"Thou knowest not of what thou speakest, boy," the vampire sneered. "Tell, Nan—whose lass art thou?"

"Why, thine." Nan tried to step toward him, but Magnus held her back. "Lay off!" she cried, struggling against his arm.

"By what right dost thou keep her, when she doth desire to go?" the vampire demanded.

"By what right dost thou keep her, when she would desire to go were she recovered of her senses?" Gregory demanded.

"What sprat is this?" the vampire snarled. "Be gone, mere inconvenience!" He pounced, claws reaching for Gregory.

Geoffrey shouted and leaped at him again, but this time the vampire turned, catching him and lifting him toward his mouth. "Tender," he growled, "succulent."

Magnus let go of Nan and hurtled into the vampire, knocking Geoffrey out of his grasp. The pale man went flying—and kept flying, as his cape spread out into wings and all of him shrank into a bat. He wheeled about in the air, streaking back toward Gregory.

"Why, 'tis a birdbrain!" Geoffrey laughed. "Come, hen! What fowl prank wilt thou play next? O bird absurd!"

The bat wheeled, its eyes glowing fire, and pounced— but Geoffrey dodged behind Fess. The bat didn't even try to follow—it sailed straight at Fess's neck, needle-fangs glinting—and striking down through horsehair with a resounding clang as they met Fess's metal neck. It spun toward the ground, stunned, and just barely managed to pull out of its nosedive and start flapping up.

But that was long enough for Magnus to find a long stick. "One bad bat doth deserve another," he grunted, and swung.

The club cracked into the vampire. He lurched and went spiralling down to the dirt, out cold.

The children stood transfixed.

Then Nan gave a wordless cry and reached out toward the fallen creature.

Geoffrey leaped to block her. "Nay! Thou art freed of him now, and shalt remain so!"

"It will be a while before she ceases to crave his presence," Fess advised him. Geoffrey nodded, caught Nan by the wrists, and pulled her away.

"What now?" Cordelia demanded. "We dare not leave him so, or he will revive and begin his depredations anew."

"Why, we have one who doth await the occasion," Gregory answered. "Magnus, summon."

Magnus straightened, gaining a smile and calling out, "Wee Folk! We have done what we can! Now come and aid!"

"Why, that will we, and right gladly!" The elves stepped out of the long grass all around. "We had hoped for such as thee, young witchfolk, who could disable this nemesis long enough for us to… seek its disposition."

"Then we may leave it to thee?" Magnus asked, relieved.

"Assuredly," an elf replied. "He shall ne'er trouble the folk of this shire again, I promise thee."

"In truth," a brownie agreed. "He was not here a year agone; he shall not be here after."

"Gramercy, then." But Cordelia was still troubled. "What shall we do with Nan, though? We cannot bring her with us—and she cannot care for herself now."

"Be of ease in thy mind," an elf-woman assured her. "We shall care for her till her body hath filled itself up with blood again, then take from her mind all memory of Elfland and bring her once again unto her own village."

The circle of elves closed around the form of the vampire, and the spokesman said, "Thou shouldst be gone now, younglings. We shall do as we must, yet thou hast no need to see."

"Why, therefore shall we take our leave," Cordelia said. "Fare well, good elves! Be kind to Nan!"

"We shall," the little woman assured her, and they turned away.

They had only travelled for fifteen minutes or so when another elf stepped out onto the trail ahead of them. They looked up and stopped. "What cheer?" Geoffrey called.

"All," the elf answered. "The lass sleeps, and mends; the vampire will sleep forever—unless some fool comes upon him, not knowing how much is at stake."

"Thou hast buried him at a crossroad, then?"

"Nay, for folk might come upon him there, if they sought to rear up buildings. We have hidden him in a deep, dark cave."

Magnus frowned. "There are ever human folk who cannot resist the lure of such deep places."

"Even so," the elf agreed, "so we have taken him by dark and secret ways too small for mortal folk, or for any but an elf—or bat."

" Tis well." But Magnus still wasn't smiling. "Yet there are folk, good elf, who have much more of enthusiasm than of good sense."

"And ever will be," the elf rejoined. "There is no guarding 'gainst them, young wizard, whatsoe'er we may do."

Magnus lifted his head, then gazed off into space. He had never heard someone call him "young wizard" before, and the thought gave him pause.

"And Nan will be well?" Cordelia asked anxiously.

"She will," the elf assured her, "though she will never again be so filled with the joy of living as she once was."

"Ah." Gregory smiled sadly. "Yet is that not the fate that doth await all folk, soon or late?"

"Not always," the elf said.

"Nay," Cordelia said, "it need not."

That brought Magnus out of his daze. He glanced at her, worried—but all he said was, "Come. Away!" And he turned to lead them on down the trail again.