Mina (7 page)

I considered the road we had been
traveling-icy and treacherous even before this heavy snowfall. To me, the
straight descent appeared impossible. "Wait," I said and scanned the
landscape below, pointing to a second pair of riders coming from the west.

"This is the only road to
the castle. If we remain here, they will have to pass right by us," I
said.

Van Helsing
smiled. "Ah, dear Mina, you are right. We stay and trap them. We shall
make certain that the cart does not pass."

I nodded my agreement, and the two
of us waited as the cart and riders began the ascent on our path. There were
nearly a dozen of them, all colorfully dressed, with turban-shaped fur hats
covering their heads and ears. Some carried rifles, others only knives. It seemed
to me that our little band was terribly outnumbered, but I knew Jonathan and
the others coming up behind them were desperate.

Through the
windblown snow, I could see the sun nearly touching the peaks in the clear
western sky. The men would not reach

the cart in time.
"Remember your promise," I whispered to the creature being carried
toward me.

"Madame Mina?" Van Helsing said. "Did you
speak?" "A prayer." "Good," he replied and crouched
lower behind the concealing stones.

As the gypsy leader approached the
place where we were hidden, he raised his hand and the group halted. I thought
we had been spied, but he gave us no notice. The terrain may have been
dangerous or he may have glimpsed the wolves. When they continued forward, it
was with greater caution.

Van Helsing muttered something under
his breath. I glanced sideways at him and saw the gleam in his eye as he waited
for the men to reach us. It was the same expression I had seen when he sat in
Dr. Seward's comfortable parlor and described the powers of the vampire, as well
as when he faced the three vampire women. Whoever served Dracula was an
enemy-human or not, they were easily destroyed. I suddenly felt less guilty
for my duplicity. There, on that snow-covered incline, I understood what an implacable
enemy Van Helsing would be.

I had no
time to contemplate this, for Jonathan and Quincey were riding hard up the
path, closely followed by Arthur and Jack.

The gypsy band halted and drew their
weapons. Without slackening his pace, Quincey fired, hitting the gypsy in the
back of the cart. Another returned fire. I saw Quincey recoil, but though he
had been hit, he drew his knife and charged toward the band.

Taking advantage of a break in the gypsy ranks, Jonathan jumped
onto the cart and began prying at the clasp on Dracula's crate while Quincey
single-handedly held off the band until the others rode up to help him.

They were
too late. The sun, no more than a pale ball of light beneath the clouds, sank
behind the craggy mountains, the shadow

of its passing rolling over
the land.

From the place where I was hiding, I
could look down on the cart. I saw the lid of the crate flung back, Dracula's
eyes open and glowing with triumph as they met Jonathan's. The vampire's
timing had been nearly perfect. Even so, Jonathan did not hesitate to do what
he had been told would save me. He stabbed his knife downward at Dracula's neck
while Quincey aimed his for Dracula's heart.

The look of malice on the vampire's
face became one of peace. The body vanished into a dusty mist that whirled in
an ever widening circle and was lost to the rising wind. The gypsy leader
motioned silently to his men. With those who had been in the wagon riding
double with those on horseback, they fled down the mountain. Van Helsing
watched them go, his brow furrowed in puzzlement at their sudden retreat.

As he did, the sky above the castle
darkened and the wind became a gale, swelling as if demons themselves ordered
it out of revenge for their fallen comrade. As the storm grew, snow began to
fall so heavily that I could no longer see the men. The sound of their cries
and the whinnying of the horses seemed to come from all around me.

And with the
storm came a compulsion so strong that I am certain it could only have come
from Dracula or others of his kind.

Unable to stand in the force
of the terrible wind, I crawled slowly uphill toward the castle.

The outer gates were open. Snow
drifted in the courtyard and softened the jagged edges of the crumbling walls.
I pushed open the carved wood doors and wandered into the hall. Though I had
read a description of the place in Jonathan's diary, it seemed even more
familiar to me, as if I had seen it firsthand many years ago. I found a torch
where I expected to find it, a flint box on a ledge beside it. The smoky light
it threw was scarcely enough to illuminate a portion of one wall. Had I the
time, I would have looked at everything, would have run my hands over the
carved rail of the stone staircase, studied every detail of the ancient
paintings on the walls. Instead, I quickly made my way to the lower chambers
where the women had slept.

When I
reached the stone passage that led to their hall, I lifted the torch I carried
and surveyed the walls. They were decorated

with tapestries of oriental design. A few were of delightful
landscapes. Others, far more profane, showed naked couples in the varied
positions of lovemaking. Had there been anyone with me, I might have been
embarrassed, but alone I found them fascinating and, in spite of my weariness,
arousing. I suppose that was their purpose, for any visitor who would wander so
far would be ready for the sensual trap the women would have waiting in their
chamber.

The room
where the women lay was as vast as the upper hall, yet signs of Van Helsing's
carnage were everywhere. Blood coated

the stones beneath the caskets and formed dark collars around the
heads that rested together on the ground. Their expressions made it clear that
the women had not died in peace. Rats, surprised at their feast, scurried away
as I walked toward the caskets. As I expected, the bodies had not crumbled
into dust. In horror, I stared at the wooden stakes pounded between their
exposed breasts, the blood covering their smooth flesh.

Throughout this terrible journey, I
had noted Van Helsing's obsession. Often he had hinted at some ancient hatred
he had for the vampire. I had no doubt that Van Helsing believed he served a
righteous purpose, yet I knew otherwise. The seductive power of these women
had unnerved him. A man such as him had no choice but to destroy.

I thought of
Van Helsing ripping open their gowns, stopping to marvel at the perfection of
their flesh. Had he touched them before

he began the killing? Had
their beauty made him pause at all? I doubted it.

I ran my fingers over the tips of
their delicate hands, then, bolder, over the cold breasts that might have
suckled children centuries ago. "I'm sorry," I whispered to each of
them. "Sorry that it came to this." I knew from the color of the body
which had been the fair one. She wore a silver filigree ring with a ruby
stone. I slipped it off her finger and onto mine. Then I kissed her
blood-soaked flesh. Though the blood still tasted sweet, it held no warmth, no
memories. I said a prayer for all of them and for myself as well, for I had
never felt such despair.

I looked around me, hoping to see some sign that what Van Helsing
had done had been justified. All I saw was a pile of animal bones, stripped
clean by the vermin. Recalling Jonathan's journal, I looked closely at the pile
but detected no remnants of human victims.

There were
no settlements in the area, I quickly reminded myself, nor even any farms. The
natives had vanished-fled or devoured.

I wondered why the women had not followed them, traveling as
Dracula had to London, instead of living on animals and occasional unwary
travelers.

The only other thing of interest in
the room was a wooden box on a table near the door. I lifted the lid and found
a book with black leather cover and parchment pages. It appeared to be a
journal, written in a delicate script in a language I did not know. The last
entry was not dated, yet the writing seemed fresh. Had one of them kept an
account as I did? What might she have recorded in all the years of her life? I
placed it in the inner pocket of my coat, vowing to find someone to translate
the account the woman had set down.

But there
was one thing more I had to do. I lifted the torch and set the tapestries that
adorned the room to burning. Without a

backward glance, I made my
way through the passage and started up the too-familiar stairs.

My soul was
mine, as Dracula had promised. My choice was mine, and he had promised that as
well. I could have died in that

room, by my own hand, and
awakened to his world. Instead I had chosen Jonathan and the world I knew.

I brushed my
forehead and felt the smooth skin. The scar left by the host had vanished.

I would be wife to Jonathan, someday mother to his children. And
yet I wonder. Is Dracula alive? I think of him beaten in one more battle,
utterly alone in his dark castle. He has had centuries to grow used to loss. He
will find others to replace the women Van Helsing killed, and in time he will
forget about me. But if he is indeed alive, what consequence is his blood in
me?

A crash in the chamber behind me
must have opened some passage directly to the outside, for suddenly the
stairway I climbed tilled with smoke. Holding my breath, I climbed faster. My
cloak tangled around my legs and I fell. Instinctively, I took a breath and coughed.
My eyes watered, and on hands and knees I climbed the stairs. The air grew
hotter. The inferno rose to claim me.

"Jonathan," I whispered, and as I looked at the now
glowing smoke, I thought I saw my sisters waiting for me. I smiled at them, lay
my head on my arm and closed my eyes. Death was coming. I could feel it a long
way off, but moving closer. I didn't care to struggle any more.

November 9.
We are on the train, this
time heading west. Our little group is smaller. Only Dr. Seward, Jonathan and I
are traveling to England. Van Helsing chose to stay in the area and continue
his research on Dracula and vampirism. I understand his need to do this all
too well, for he knows that nothing is really settled. As for Arthur ...

Order, Mina!
Even in this private journal events should be recorded in order, particularly
now that the others have finished their

accounts of this terrible
adventure and this will be the only recording of its aftermath.

i woke in the courtyard of Dracula's castle with my head resting
on Jonathan's knees. He had been using snow to wipe the soot from my face. I
think the coldness of it shocked me into consciousness. My lungs were still
filled with smoke, and I coughed and gagged until I caught my breath. When I
did, I looked around me. The winds had diminished and a light snow fell, the
huge flakes softening the jagged stones of the walls, the pitted ground of the
courtyard. Whisps of smoke still rose from the open castle doors.

The fire must have died
before it reached the upper floors, no doubt because the passage had been made
of stone.

"Are
the others with you?" I asked when I was able.

I saw sorrow
in Jonathan's expression, heard the pain in his reply. "The others are
with Quincey. The gypsies shot him and he is

dying, I think. He lost a
great deal of blood. I could do nothing for him so I came to find you."

"Do the
others know I've come up here?"

"We
couldn't see anything in that storm. Don't you remember?"

"I do." But I wanted to be
certain, absolutely certain. "Van Helsing told me not to come here. He
said the walls themselves would tempt me. But . . ." I paused, loathing
the idea of telling him how I had been drawn here.” . . . But the storm came so
fast, I lost my way. The only thing I could see in the gale was the castle
wall above me. I knew there would be shelter here. And then ... Oh, Jonathan,
I had to see the place where they had lain and be certain they were truly gone.
You'll understand when Van Helsing and I tell you everything that happened to
us."

"Did
you find that place?" he asked in a low voice.

I wanted to
tell him about the bodies and Van Helsing's lie, but everyone had been so
concerned about me that I feared to do so.

"I found the coffins.
Then I burned their chamber, but the fire grew so fast."

He held me
tightly. I had never felt so thankful for his arms before. "When I brought
you outside and saw that the scar had

vanished from your forehead, I was so afraid. I though it was a
sign that you were dying," he whispered. "Now it's over. We can go home."

"The
others, we must go to them," I said.

"Not
yet. Rest awhile."

"Take
me to Quincey, please. I want to say good-bye.
^,
” Jonathan
helped me to stand, and I leaned heavily against him, fighting

the terrible dizziness as we
descended to the place where Van Helsing and the others tried with no real hope
to save Quincey's life.

Nothing could be done. As Jonathan
watched, I walked forward and knelt beside the brash American, making certain
that he saw my unblemished forehead. "Ah," he said and smiled and
let out one final breath. The vapor hung in the cold air then dissipated in
the frigid wind.

They unloaded the box that had held
Dracula, wrapped Quincey in some of the fur rugs and started back to Galati.
Arthur decided to book passage to America and take Quincey's body home. Van
Helsing seemed triumphant at their victory over the vampire. The others only
mourned.

As we
traveled down the mountain, Van Helsing looked up at the castle, noting the
wisps of smoke rising from inside its walls. He

glanced at me and I met his
gaze steadily. "Let it burn," I said.

He did not
question me.

We held the final meeting of our quest after we returned to
Galati. Arthur, who had lost his love and one of his closest friends, seemed
the most affected by the events, the most sedate as we discussed our future. He
had already decided to take Quincey's body back to America. Van Helsing
declared his intentions to remain in the area and continue his research on
vampires.

"Everything
is finished. We've won, haven't we?" Jonathan asked with concern.

Van Helsing
knew the truth as well as I, but he replied, "Of course. But there may be
more of those creatures. We must be

careful." Van Helsing looked directly at me as he continued,
"And you must keep silent about what we have done, particularly what happened
to Madame Mina."

"I
hadn't intended to speak about any of it," Arthur said. "But why
shouldn't I?"

"I
obtained my knowledge from others who are just as determined as I to end the
vampires' curse. Some of them are not so

trusting in God's grace and
goodness. Do not draw their interest."