THE DRACAS

A late summer day had come to an end. Night had descended over Vienna, and everywhere in the grand squares and along the boulevard leading to the Hofburg, gas lamps were being lit. Today was Thursday, and high society was preparing for their appearance at the court ball or one of the city's theaters. The night would be long, but what did it matter? One could sleep through the day as long as they wanted.

Life also stirred in a townhouse on the new Ringstrasse, which now encircled the old city of Vienna instead of the medieval moat. The house was more of a palace than a townhouse and housed a very special family that considered themselves quite equal to the old nobility of Austria-Hungary. The head of the Dracas family was Baron Maximilian, who was usually seen in the company of his sister Antonia. He was tall and dark, with features as symmetrical as those of almost all members of the family. He wore a well-groomed beard like the Emperor did in his younger years. His sister Antonia resembled him, but with such radiant beauty that the men of society always turned to her and stared at her as if she were an otherworldly presence. Only her often grumpily pursed mouth disturbed the image of perfect harmony. And the shrill sound of her words, Franz Leopold thought, as her voice suddenly reached his ears.

Leisurely, the young vampire wandered through the palace. How intricately adorned the plaster ceilings were, how noble the heavy curtains that matched the upholstery of the chaise lounges and other seats. The gilded candelabras shimmered in the light of the candle flames. Yes, the Dracas palace was magnificent. Franz Leopold let his gaze wander thoughtfully. Such thoughts had never occurred to him before. But now, after spending almost a year in Rome at the Domus Aurea, he saw the Vienna palace with different eyes. Surely Nero's palace must have been even more magnificent once, but that was almost two thousand years ago! Now, beneath the Oppius Hill, one found only damp underground passages and chambers. Yet a smile crossed his face as the memory of the past months flooded his mind like a warm stream.

"Why are you grinning so foolishly?" his cousin Karl Philipp asked as he turned the corner. Behind him appeared his older cousin Anna Christina.

Franz Leopold's smile was wiped away. "I was just thinking about that unspeakable Domus Aurea, and how fortunate we are to be back home."

Karl Philipp made a face. "You can say that again!" He was tall and slender, with dark hair, dark brown eyes, and long lashes. Yet next to his younger cousin, he seemed like a distorted reflection.

"Franz Leopold is the most beautiful boy in the world. He is perfect, as no painter or sculptor could have created him," Marie Luise, the youngest of the Dracas heirs, used to say. A lurking expression always came into her eyes, and she tossed back her long, dark curls until she heard what she wanted to hear in that moment: "Franz Leopold is the most beautiful young vampire, that's true, but you and Anna Christina, you are the most beautiful vampire women the world has ever produced!"

"What are you up to?" Franz Leopold asked. "Is something wrong?"

"Anna Christina wants to see the Baroness, and I was foolish enough to let myself be persuaded to accompany her."

Franz Leopold looked at the two of them in astonishment. "What does she want there?" he asked in a lowered voice.

"She no longer wants to attend that cursed academy for young vampires."

"Yes, because I am now an adult vampire and have nothing to do with this childish nonsense anymore," Anna Christina added with a voice as sharp as a knife blade.

"Baron Maximilian sees it differently and has rejected any discussion, but she fancies she can convince the Baroness. And I'm supposed to help her with that!"

Karl Philipp didn't hide his displeasure. Franz Leopold almost laughed. His cousin simply couldn't handle Anna Christina. She knew how to assert herself— at least with her cousin. Whether she would succeed with the sister of the clan leader, however, was questionable.

Suddenly, Karl Philipp's expression brightened. "You must come too! The Baroness has taken a liking to you and will listen to you more than anyone else. No arguments!" Karl Philipp reached for his arm.

Franz Leopold knew how to defend himself against his cousin, even though he was a year older and a little stronger. But now he nodded, curious to see how the conversation would unfold. He had no doubt about his exit strategy! And Karl Philipp probably knew how it would end. Anna Christina, however, looked confident and approached the door to the Baroness Antonia's chambers with determined steps.

"What do you want? Can't you see I'm busy?" The sharp tone made Anna Christina flinch a little, and her confidence waned for a moment. But then she regained her composure, curtsied elegantly, her expansive hoop skirt swaying, and stood up very straight.

"Forgive me for disturbing you, Baroness Antonia. I would like to discuss something of great importance with you," she said bravely.

"Important for me or for you?" asked the sister of the clan leader, without looking up from her long fingernails, which she was carefully filing into points.

"Important for the family," Anna Christina claimed a little boldly.

Now the Baroness looked up. "Is that so?"

"I think it is not beneficial for anyone if I accompany the children," she emphasized the word contemptuously, "to their schooling in Ireland."

"No? And why not?"

"I am an adult…"

"No, you're not," the Baroness interrupted. "You haven't participated in the ritual yet, so you're not yet considered an adult vampire of pure blood."

"But I will be seventeen, before Midwinter. And then I will be accepted and have the right to hunt and drink human blood myself!" She crossed her arms in front of her chest. Franz Leopold thought she looked like a defiant child. All that was missing was for her to stomp her foot. Apparently, the Baroness thought similarly, as she frowned irritably.

"When you are an adult is determined solely by me—or the Baron," she quickly added. "The year in Ireland won't harm you, even though I don't think much of this whole academy plan. And when you return, we can discuss your admission."

"But that will be already Midsummer," Anna Christina exclaimed in horror. "I cannot and will not wait that long!"

"You'll have no choice," the Baroness replied. She looked at her well-groomed claws in the light of a candlestick and then extended her other hand to the servant.

Anna Christina glanced at her cousins, seeking help. "Won't you say something too?"

Why should he stick up for Anna Christina and risk falling out of favor with the Baroness? On the other hand, the thought of spending almost a year without her nagging had a certain appeal. Franz Leopold cleared his throat.

"Baroness Antonia, perhaps you should reconsider your words? Anna Christina is really only a tiny step away from her crucial birthday and already so clever and... uh... mature. Besides, Ireland is very rough and windy. It's hardly the right place for her. And why does an elegant Viennese Dracas like her need to command the lower animals? Being able to transform into a wolf or a bat, or even into a wisp of mist traveling with the storm wind, what's that all about?" He attempted a dismissive gesture. The Baroness stared at him. Franz Leopold himself felt that there was an inappropriate enthusiasm in his voice.

"My answer is and remains no! You will all go to Ireland. And now, don't strain my nerves any longer."

"You've shattered my last hope," Anna Christina complained as they closed the door behind them and walked down the corridor together. "One could almost have gotten the impression that you're looking forward to this year. Ireland! That's a journey back to the Middle Ages - probably even to the Stone Age! It'll be even more dreadful than backward Rome!"

"Yes, they probably still live there in caves with wolves and bears," Franz Leopold agreed cheerfully. The other two stared at him.

"You're behaving very strangely indeed," Anna Christina remarked.

Karl Philipp nodded. "Yes, ever since we returned from Rome. I've noticed it too. You haven't been infected by that 'Only together are we strong' nonsense, have you? Tell me you still believe that we stand far above those inferior clans and will forever despise and scorn them," Karl Philipp demanded.

Franz Leopold still smiled. "But of course—the Vamalia, the Pyras, the Nosferas, the Vyrad, and especially our despicable hosts in Ireland, the Lycana stuck in the Stone Age."

The image of a young vampire rose in his mind. Her long silver locks gleamed in the moonlight. Her garment seemed to flow down her slender figure. She was small and delicate, but seemed anything but childish. Beauty and harmony mixed in her features with the wisdom that could be read in her turquoise eyes. He could even see the white wolf that never left her side.

"Excuse me," he said, bowing with a mocking expression, "I must give Matthias a few instructions before we submit to the harsh fate of our exile." Franz Leopold hurried away lightly to find his shadow. Like every family member of pure bloodline, he had an impure vampire who served him, had to obey him unconditionally, and protect him. The impure had once lived as humans until they were bitten and transformed by a vampire. From that night on, they retained their appearance forever, even as they gained strength and experience, while the pure were born as vampires and, like humans, grew and changed their appearance. Only the existence of vampires spanned centuries, during which their strength steadily increased until they too surpassed their peak. And when their powers and speed diminished, they mingled with the venerable ones and left it to the younger ones to lead the fate of the clan.

Franz Leopold entered his chamber, where Matthias was packing his suitcase. Before Baron Maximilian had made him a vampire, he had been a coachman. He was a tall, burly man with the darker skin and black hair of the Hungarians, and extremely taciturn. But by now, he had at least learned to handle his master's wardrobe carefully. He was currently folding one of the silk tailcoats and storing it in the chest. Matthias looked up.

"What do you wish?" he asked as he reached for the black tailcoat.

"I want you to get me a book and pack it in the suitcase," Franz Leopold replied.

"What book? There are many different books," the impure vampire remained unfazed.

"I know," Franz Leopold snapped. "It must be something special. Oh, I don't know exactly."

"For your trip to Ireland?"

"Of course, otherwise you wouldn't need to pack it, would you?"

"Maybe about druids and ancient magic or something about wolves? About very specific wolves?" His tone didn't change, and he didn't look up from his work.

Franz Leopold regarded him suspiciously. "Yes, that wouldn't be bad. Get me something like that. Otherwise, I don't need you tonight. Just finish packing the suitcases and wait here for me."

Without another word, Franz Leopold turned and left. As he ran down the red carpeted stairs to the main entrance, he wondered if Matthias had learned more than his master would like. Franz Leopold was a masterful mind reader even for a Dracas— at least for his age. But this wasn't a skill he liked seeing in his servant, especially not when his fantasies once again rushed ahead to Ireland and he could hear her voice.

"Leo," she had called him, and he cherished the memory of the sound of that one word like a treasure. Franz Leopold pushed open the portal and ran down the last steps. He breathed in the spicy evening air of late summer, mingled with the first hint of decay. Soon, the lush green of the leaves would fade and turn to autumnal yellow. But then he wouldn't stroll beneath these trees through the night, casting eerie shadows in the light of the gas lamps. No, a different landscape awaited him, a different land—a whole other world and Ivy-Máire!

Alisa folded her hands over her chest. Despite trembling with nervousness, she tried to lie still as the pounding of hammer blows vibrated through her body. She counted the nails Hindrik was driving in to seal her travel chest.

"Done!" she heard his voice somewhat muffled through the wood. "Are you all right?"

"Yes," Alisa replied. "If only we could finally get going!"

Hindrik laughed. "You've become faster and stronger over the year, but certainly not more patient."

She heard his footsteps moving away, and then again the strikes of the hammer as he closed the chests of her younger brother Tammo and her cousin Sören. The servient, as the Vamalia called their impure clan members, would accompany them. Hindrik, with his long blond hair and stubble on his chin and cheeks, looked like a young man but was one of the older and more experienced vampires of the Hamburg clan. His human life had ended sometime in the late 17th century. So Dame Elina, who led the Vamalia family, confidently entrusted the fate of the three heirs to Hindrik during their stay on the island.

Finally, Alisa felt the chest being lifted. The smell of mud and brackish water intensified, and when the chest was set down again, she felt the gentle sway of the ship's planks beneath her. The tide hadn't yet come in, but then they would finally set sail. She had counted the nights, and now the time had come. The great journey across the sea was about to begin. Alisa had never traveled on a ship, although the Vamalia lived in two baroque merchant houses on Wandrahm Island at the old inland port. Every night, she gazed longingly at the forest of masts, yards, and rigging— the far-traveled schooners and brigs of the merchant fleet, barges and flatboats, the hulks of the deep-sea fishermen, and the frigates and sloops of the navy bristling with countless cannons. Now she would sail on a barque, one of the great ocean-going cargo ships with four masts, and she was condemned to lie in a nailed chest. She wouldn't be able to see the sailors climbing the shrouds or hear their songs as they hoisted the sheets around the winches, until the wind filled the canvas like white wings. Alisa felt the ship slowly rising. Orders were shouted outside. The swaying intensified as the ropes were cast off the bollards. The song of men's voices reached into the hold. Then the ship leaned to leeward and gained speed—the Elbe downstream to its mouth, out into the North Sea through the canal, and then up to Ireland's north!

The fifth night at sea arrived. The Tweedsale had passed through the Strait of Dover, sailed along the south coast of England, and now continued north between Wales and Ireland. In the morning, it had docked in the port of Dublin, and now the ship was heading toward an island rising from the Irish Sea. As the last light of day faded, the captain dropped the anchor chains off the rocky coast and assigned the night watch. Then he retired to his cabin, entrusting the fate of the ship and its cargo to the guards. Like his barque, the captain hailed from Glasgow. The Tweedsale was the first iron four-masted barque ever built. It was much smaller than its wooden predecessors, but also more agile and robust in the stormy reaches of the North Sea. The captain slept peacefully. Perhaps his dreams wouldn't have been so serene had he known what rested in the crates in two of his cargo holds. Everything was quiet in the forward compartment, but in the aft one, something suddenly stirred. A lid was lifted. Then a figure sat up and looked around. A rat scurried away and took refuge among the other crates. From there, it observed the figure with human contours, its eyes glowing with a strange reddish shimmer. No, it wasn't dealing with a human here. Moreover, the rat had experienced that once humans' bodies were placed in closed crates, they didn't rise again.

Franz Leopold looked around. It was dark in the cargo hold. A human wouldn't have been able to see his hand in front of his face, but he could make out various crates, sacks, and barrels. It smelled of damp wood, salt, and tar, but also of the cargo. Franz Leopold believed he could discern pepper and anise, tea and cocoa beans. He wrinkled his nose. Was this fitting for a Dracas? To be transported like a sack of pepper or a crate of tea in the belly of this soul peddler?

As quietly as possible, he crept toward the door. Franz Leopold reached out for the thoughts of the other Dracas, who must have awakened as soon as the sun had sunk below the horizon outside. He would be wise to hide his joyful anticipation from them, so they wouldn't notice that one of their charges was slipping away. Deceiving Matthias, in particular, was not easy.

Silently, Franz Leopold closed the door and stood in the dark corridor for a while. There was no movement in the cargo hold. Good! They still believed him to be safely sealed in his transport crate. A superior smile flickered across his face. The new impure in Vienna had succumbed to his threats and a hefty bribe, using nails that were too short for his crate, which didn't properly seal the lid. Franz Leopold swiftly ascended the steep ladder and then proceeded along a corridor. Two deck guards approached him, but that didn't concern him. Humans were so blind in their confidence that they believed if they didn't want to acknowledge something, it couldn't exist.

The vampire pressed himself into a niche and let the two men pass. The scent of warm skin and sweat wafted to his nose, reminding him all too vividly of his hunger. He felt his fangs protruding and struggled to resist the urge to follow the two men and take their blood. If he did that, he risked far more than a reprimand for leaving his coffin unauthorized. Young vampires were forbidden to hunt and drink human blood. Franz Leopold had painfully learned that this wasn't just a cruel whim of the elders but served to protect the younger ones. His greed had almost sucked him to his death! And now, having tasted the sweetness of human blood once, the abstinence was even more cruel. Franz Leopold swallowed dryly and turned abruptly away. He couldn't dwell on that now. He just wanted to escape the confines of the narrow crate for a while and enjoy the freedom of the night.

He pushed open the door, stepped up to the railing, and let his gaze sweep around the bow, back to the stern, and then up to the four masts with their secured sails. From the shrouds, one must have a marvelous view of the sea and the island they were anchored off. Franz Leopold reached for the ropes tied into a net and pulled himself up. Despite the tailcoat and the elegant leather shoes with smooth soles, he had no trouble. He climbed higher and higher until he reached the yardarm to which the top sail of the mainmast was attached. Franz Leopold crouched on the rounded wood and greedily breathed in the scents. The moon painted silver streaks on the smooth water, and the night wind ruffled his hair. He could see the two deck guards up front. But his gaze focused on another figure stepping out onto the deck through a door at the back. The moon hid behind the clouds for a moment and then bathed the ship in its light again. The figure below him stepped up to the railing. He frowned. Two things struck him: She lacked the warm aura of humans—and she cast no shadow! Franz Leopold groaned. So his disappearance hadn't gone unnoticed after all. Well, let them search for him. The pursuer hadn't spotted him yet.

Thoughtfully, Franz Leopold regarded the vampire below him. Why was she gazing out at the sea when her task was to find him? And who was she anyway? Since his cousins didn't even discard their voluminous dresses when they went to bed, they were ruled out. Matthias couldn't be the one either. The figure was too slender. Now she strolled along the railing. No, it wasn't Karl Philipp either, but the way she moved was familiar to him.

A memory rose within him. At first blurry, then clearer and clearer. Could it be possible? Curiously, Franz Leopold began to descend. He had only descended half of the net ladder when he was already certain. She hadn't noticed him yet. She probably didn't even know they were traveling on the same ship.

When he was only seven rungs above the floor, Franz Leopold opened his mind until it brushed against her thoughts. He found only joyful anticipation and memories of Rome, and an almost childlike wonder at the beauty of the night and the moonlight that skipped from wave to wave, reminding her of Ivy. But suddenly she hesitated. Before the vampire could grasp what had aroused her suspicion, Franz Leopold dropped behind her onto the planks. She spun around and widened her blue-gray eyes.

Leisurely, Franz Leopold straightened to his full height and flicked a hemp fiber from the sleeve of his tailcoat. "Ah, Alisa de Vamalia from Hamburg," he said with a nasal voice. "Surprised to see me? Yes, I couldn't help but notice that your senses were so captivated by the sight of the nocturnal sea that you criminally neglected to observe your surroundings. You've become careless over the summer! I could have sprung on you unnoticed—if I had felt like it."

He examined her closely. Alisa had grown a little taller and slimmer over the summer. Her cheekbones seemed more prominent. She wore a simple jacket over black trousers. She had braided her long blond hair with a copper shimmer and pinned it up in a knot. Not exactly a sophisticated attire, yet it suited her somewhat boyish figure and open features.

She recovered from her shock faster than Franz Leopold had expected, and she almost mastered her expression masterfully. Had he not read her emotions, he might have been deceived by her seemingly bored tone of voice. But he felt the rapid succession of shock, surprise, a moment of joy suppressed by the old animosity she harbored toward him.

"Franz Leopold de Dracas, well, well. Look at what they've packed into the cargo holds in Hamburg," she said, her tone laced with irony.

At that moment, she noticed the eavesdropper in her thoughts and forcefully expelled him. Not only had she learned to keep her heart from her sleeve, but her mental powers had also grown stronger.

"You haven't secretly run away from your minders, have you?" Franz Leopold couldn't suppress a smile. "I might return that question to you. I suspect you also haven't been given explicit permission to wander around here alone."

Alisa smiled back. "No, I haven't, although I suspect Hindrik has once again noticed that I've slipped away."

"I can imagine. You're just not there yet! On the other hand, no one noticed my escape. Unlike you, I don't just move completely silently. I'm also working on a new technique that influences feelings and thoughts."

"What do you mean, I'm just not there yet?" Her voice was dangerously calm, but Franz Leopold was sure that she would soon be so enraged that she would hurl her anger in his face. Would she also attack him with her fists? She was close to it. But instead of shouting at him or even hitting him, she suddenly chuckled.

"Ah, I understand. Your new technique works quite excellently!"

Franz Leopold spun around. In the door leading to the deck stood Matthias, who now approached his master. His expression was impassive, but Franz Leopold could sense his displeasure. He was responsible for his well-being and had to be accountable to the Baron if anything happened to him. But Franz Leopold didn't care. That was Matthias' problem alone.

"Come back with me," the servant said curtly. "You're not allowed to leave your crate during the journey."

"What do you think you're doing!" Franz Leopold complained grumpily but didn't dare to contradict. He couldn't risk embarrassing himself in front of Alisa. Perhaps Matthias would just grab him and drag him downstairs.

Alisa raised her hand and waved casually. "Well then, have fun in your crate. I'll enjoy the warm night a little longer."

"I doubt that," Franz Leopold replied, pretending to be charming. "Look who's coming."

"Hindrik!" Alisa groaned without turning around. The two servants nodded at each other, and Hindrik urged his charge to follow him back to the cargo holds.

"We'll meet again soon," said Alisa, hooking her arm under Hindrik's.

"I'm afraid that's unavoidable," Franz Leopold replied, but his voice didn't sound as dismissive as his words. He watched them until the door closed behind them, then followed Matthias provocatively slowly back downstairs.