'Now,' said Dragosani, 'you have said I must be mad. Far from it, Max. But you see this vampire has secrets that only the undead know. They are secrets I want. And one way or the other I intend to get them. Especially now that there's this Harry Keogh to deal with. So far Thibor has frustrated me, but not this time. And if I have to raise him up to get at these secrets… then so be it!'
'And do you know how? — to raise him up, I mean?'
'Not yet, no. But he'll tell me, Max. Be sure of that…'
They were there. Dragosani parked the car off the road under the cover of overhanging trees, and in the cold bright light of the stars they trudged slowly up the overgrown fire break together, snaring the burden of the twitching sheep between them.
Approaching the secret glade, Dragosani took the animal on his shoulder and whispered: 'Now, Max, you're to stay here. You may follow a little closer if you wish, and watch by all means — but remember, keep out of it!'
The other nodded, came a few paces closer, huddled down and wrapped his overcoat tightly about himself. And alone Dragosani went on under the trees and up to the tomb of the Thing in the ground.
He paused at the rim of the circle, but farther out than when last he'd visited. 'How now, old dragon?' he softly said, letting the trembling, half-dead ewe thump to the hard ground at his feet. 'How now, Thibor Ferenczy, you who have made a vampire of me!' He spoke softly so that Max Batu could not hear, for as always he found it easier to speak out loud than merely think his conversation at the vampire.
Ahhhh! came the mental hiss, drawn out and sighing, like the waking breath of one roused from deepest dreams. And is it you, Dragosani? Ho! — and so you've guessed, have you?
'It didn't take much guesswork, Thibor. It has been only a matter of months, but I'm a changed man. Indeed, not entirely a man.'
But no rage, Dragosani? No fury? Why, it seems to me that this time you come almost humbly! Why is that? I wonder.
'Oh, you know why, old dragon. I want rid of this thing.'
Ah, no (a mental shake of some monstrous head) unfortunately not. That is quite impossible. You and he are one now, Dragosani. And did I not call you my son, right from the very beginning? It is only fitting, I think, that my real son now grows within you. And he laughed in Dragosani's mind.
Dragosani couldn't afford the luxury of anger. Not yet. 'Son?' he pressed. 'This thing you put in me? Son? Another lie, old devil? Who was it told me that your sort have no sex?'
/ think you never listen, Dragosani, the vampire sighed. You, his host, have determined his sex! As he grows and becomes more properly part of you, so you become more like him. In the end it is one creature, one being.
'But with his mind?'
With your mind — but subtly altered. Your mind and
your body too, but both changed a little. Your appetites will be… sharper? Your needs… different. Listen: as a man your lusts, passions and rages were limited by a man's strength, a man's capabilities. But as one of the Wamphyri… What end would it serve to have that great engine in you with nothing to drive but a bundle of soft flesh and brittle bones? What — a tiger with the heart of a mouse?
Which was more or less what Dragosani had expected from the monster. But before coming to a final, perhaps irrevocable decision, he tried one last time, made one last threat. 'Then I shall go away and give myself into the hands of physicians. They're a different breed to the doctors you knew in your day, Thibor. And I shall tell them a vampire is in me. They'll examine, discover, cut the thing out. They have tools you wouldn't dream of. When they have it they'll cut it open, study it, discover its nature. And they'll want to know how and why. I shall tell them. About the Wamphyri. Oh, they'll laugh, measure me up for a strait-jacket — but they won't be able to explain it away. And so I shall bring them here, show them you. It will be the end. Of you, of your "son", of an entire legend. And wherever the Wamphyri are, men will seek them out and destroy them…'
Well said, Dragosani! Thibor was dryly sardonic. Bravo!
Dragosani waited, and after a moment: 'Is that all you have to say?'
It is. I don't converse with fools.
'Explain yourself.'
Now the voice in his mind grew extremely cold and angry, a controlled anger now, but real and frightening for all that. You are a vain and egotistical and stupid man, Boris Dragosani, said Thibor Ferenczy. Always it is "tell me this" and "show me that" and "explain"! I was a power in the land for centuries before you were even spawned, and even that would not have happened but for
me! And here I must lie and let myself be used. Well, all that is at an end. Very well, I will "explain myself as you demand, but for the very last time. For after that… then it will be time for proper discussion and proper bargaining. I'm tired of lying here, inert, Dragosani, as you well know, and you have the power to get me up out of here. That is the only reason I've been patient with you at all! But now my patience is no more. First let us deal with your assessment of your situation.
You say that you will give yourself into the hands of physicians. Well, by now certainly the vampire will be discernible in you. It is there, physically and tangibly, a real organism existing with you in a son of symbiosis — a word you taught me, Dragosani. But cut it out? Exorcise it? Skilled your doctors may well be, but not that skilled! Can they cut it from the individual whorls of your brain? From the fluids of your spine? From your tripes, your heart itself? Can they wrest it from your very blood? Even if you were fool enough to let them try, the vampire would kill you first. It would eat through your spine, leak poison into your brain. Surely by now you have come to understand something of our tenacity? Or did you perhaps think that survival was a purely human trait? Survival — hah! — you do not know the meaning of the word!
Dragosani was silent.
We made promises, you and I, the Thing in the ground finally continued. / have kept my part of the bargain. Now then, what of yours? Is it not time I was paid, Dragosani?
'Bargain?' Dragosani was taken aback. 'Are you joking? What bargain?'
Have you forgotten? You wanted the secrets of the Wamphyri. Very well, they are yours. For now you are a Wamphyri! As he grows within you, so the knowledge will come. He has arts which you will learn together.
'What?' Dragosani was outraged. 'My impregnation by a vampire, with a vampire, was your part of the bargain?
What the hell was that for a bargain? I wanted knowledge, wanted it now, Thibor! For myself — not as the black, rotten fruit of some unnatural, unwanted liaison with a damned parasite thing!'
You dare spurn my egg? For each Wamphyri life there is but one spawning, one new life to move on down through the centuries. And I gave mine to you…
'Don't act the proud father with me, Thibor Ferenczy!' Dragosani raged. 'Don't even try and make out I've hurt your pride. I want rid of this bastard thing in me. Do you tell me you care for it? But I know you vampires hate one another even worse than men hate you!'
The Thing in the ground knew that Dragosani had seen through him. Proper discussion, proper bargaining, he said, coldly.
'The hell with bargaining — I want rid of it!' Dragosani snarled. Tell me how… and then I'll raise you up.'
For long moments there was silence. Then -
You cannot do it. Your doctors cannot do it. Only I can abort what I put there.
'Then do it.'
'What? While I lie here, in the ground? Impossible! Raise me up… and it shall be done.
Now it was Dragosani's turn to ponder the vampire's proposition — or at least to pretend to ponder it. And finally: 'Very well. How do I go about it?'
Thibor was eager now: First, do you do this of your own free will?
'You know I do not!' Dragosani was scornful. 'I do it to be free of the hag in me.'
But of your own free will? Thibor insisted.
'Yes, damn you!'
Good. First there are chains here, in the earth. They were used to bind me but have long since worked loose of wasted tissues. You see, Dragosani, there are chemical ingredients which the Wamphyri find intolerable. Silver
and iron in the correct proportions paralyse us. Even though much of the iron has rusted away, its essence remains in the ground. And the silver is here, too. First, then, you must dig out these silver chains. 'But I haven't the tools!' You have your hands.
'You wish me to grub in the dirt with my hands? How deep?'
Not deep at all but shallow. Through all the long centuries I've worked these silver chains to the surface, hoping someone would find them and take them for treasure. Is silver precious still, Dragosani? 'More than ever.'
Then take it with my blessing. Come, dig. 'But — ' (Dragosani did not want to appear to be stalling, but on the other hand there were certain arrangements still to be made). ' — how long will it take? The entire process, I mean? And what does it involve?'