BLOODHOUNDS

Áine usually returned straight to Aughnanure after spending the night together and hunting, but today she felt that her bloodlust still burned too strongly within her. Yes, she had shared the prey with him this time too, but even in wolf form, meat was not enjoyable for her. Although she had licked the blood flowing from the torn throat, it had only been animal blood, which dampened the craving a little and allowed her to continue existing, but it did not ignite the desire that only human blood could satisfy. This ecstasy was more powerful than even the union of love. Perhaps he knew it, even though she had never told him. As much as she enjoyed his presence, the nights they spent together in the moor, and the hunt, her only thought now was to obtain the fresh blood of a human. And the humans she could perceive even from here were the miners, who slept exhausted from their day's work in the house behind the clearing.

Áine didn't hesitate. Her mind reached out to Peregrine. He was on his way through the moor. Too far away for him to receive her thoughts now. Good. With a few leaps, the vampire was on the clearing. She slipped past the deserted horse winch. She sensed the warmth of the two animals in their stable, tirelessly and mindlessly circling during the day to turn the wooden barrel, pulling the load up from the shaft with a large wheel and two ropes several meters long. The horses snorted as they smelled the dangerous predator, but Áine was not interested in their blood.

Silently, she approached the house. Technically, there were several narrow houses built together. The people whose blood the vampire craved slept behind these doors, which posed no obstacle to her. Áine stopped in front of the last one. Here slept the children whose young blood attracted her. For a moment, she stood completely still, calling for the mist, losing herself in the swirling clouds and becoming weightless. The greenish mist seeped through the cracks in the door and reformed into a figure inside the cottage.

Áine looked around the room that occupied the lower part of the house: a fireplace where the peat remnants still smoldered, emitting biting fumes into the room; a rough table with some stools; a shelf with pottery and a few foodstuffs. A lone figure had fallen asleep at the table and slumped forward. Now the scruffy head rested on the arms. The body rose and fell in rhythm with the rattling breaths. The man hadn't even taken off his heavy boots, which still had the muddy fragments of rock from the mine clinging to them. The vampire approached and smelled his neck.

She felt the blood pulsating under the skin, although it was so covered in sweat and dirt that one couldn't see the blue vein. The sharp smell of sweat didn't bother her, but the emanations of the earth, which deprived the workers of their treasures, would lie unpleasantly bitter on her tongue: baryte and zinc, copper and pyrite, fluorite and sulfur. They not only stuck to his long unwashed skin, they flowed through the veins of the old man who had toiled in this mine for more than two dozen years. His lungs had absorbed them, he had taken them in with the water from his flask and his evening meal. Áine turned away.

No, there was something better than his poisoned blood here. She hurried up the narrow, ladder-like stairs. Several men, women, and children were sleeping under the sloping rafters on their straw mattresses. Áine approached the first bed, where a little boy clung to a girl who would soon be counted among the adults. Áine could sense that her body was ready to make her a woman with her first menstruation. While the boy looked quite well-nourished, the girl was alarmingly thin, yet it tempted the vampire to taste her blood.

Carefully, she lifted the thin woolen blanket from the hands, which were calloused from hard work and scraped at some points. Then she leaned down. The girl sighed softly as the sharp teeth pierced her skin. The warm blood shot into the vampire's throat, causing her to moan with pleasure. It was so wonderfully intoxicating and invigorating. Although there was already a slight bitter taste in the girl's blood, it was not strong enough to spoil the enjoyment.

Yes, it made the blood interesting.

It was difficult for the vampire to control herself and stop before the heartbeat weakened. A few drops of blood soaked the blanket as she carefully spread it over the sleeping girl again. The girl would recover. Perhaps, if the hard work and meager food hadn't already weakened her body too much. On this day, however, and on several more, she would not be able to crawl into a shaft or strike ore rocks with a hammer.

Next, Áine tried the boy. His blood was pure. He had not yet tasted the heaviness of the work and the darkness of the mine. She couldn't take enough from him to feel satisfied. Therefore, Áine drank from a strong young man who shared the bed with a heavily pregnant woman. Satisfied, she left the house and strolled away across the clearing. However, she would never feel completely satiated; it was in her nature as a restless creature of the night.

As often happened, her thoughts wandered into the past, and she only noticed where her subconscious had led her when the hut was already in front of her. Where did her continued attachment to her human existence come from? Stealthily, the vampire approached the window, hidden by bushes and trees, to hear what was discussed at the secret meeting tonight. There were more men present than last time. Áine sensed the dogs locked in the adjacent room but paid them no mind as a name was mentioned that made her perk up. It was the woman Karen who spoke, her voice filled with enthusiasm.

"On my trip to Dublin, I spoke with her, and she has pledged her support to our cause. Jane Elgee will come here and speak with us!"

"Who is Jane Elgee?" asked the young Cowan, puzzled, while his sister emitted a sound of surprise.

"She is a poet," said Myles. "Elgee was her name before she married the doctor William Wilde."

"A great poet!" emphasized Karen, cutting him off. "Under the pseudonym 'Speranza,' she confronted the British government! Sharp as our bloodhounds, I tell you. When the editor of the Nation newspaper was arrested, she took over the paper and, until it was banned in 1848, reached two hundred and fifty thousand readers! A few years later, she married Wilde, with whom she had two sons."

Nellie's eyes glowed with enthusiasm. The girl dreamed of playing an important role in the fight against the yoke imposed on Ireland by the English kingdom. In her thoughts, she was already committing the most daring deeds and bravely suffering for her fatherland, with unwavering loyalty. A strange feeling rose in Áine. Was it perhaps compassion?

Unlike Nellie, the announced visit of the poet did not impress her brother. "I don't understand what good that will do us. She is an old woman now. We need young, strong men and weapons!"

His sister looked at him shaking her head. "So, you think this fight can be won with muscles alone? What use is a brain when you can swing a weapon!"

"At least with the eloquence of a woman's tongue, it won't be won," countered Cowan.

"No one said that. But if you had studied the many failed uprisings of the past, you would know that it wasn't just the number of men and their weapons. They need a leader who can give them courage when they despair. One who can inspire them with words. They must trust and believe in him so that no one betrays the plan. Because that was far more often the reason for failure than us Irish being defeated."

"Miss Know-It-All, I know. But as you yourself say, we need a leader, not an old poet!"

"Now, both of you, be quiet!" Myles scolded his children. "Karen still has something to say."

The two closed their mouths, turned away from each other, and sulked as Karen resumed speaking.

"I am aware that the rebels are looking for a man as their leader, so I am pleased to tell you that Jane will probably not travel alone. Her son Oscar will accompany her. Oscar has embraced his mother's legacy and already shows that he knows how to handle words. If we have him on our side, it could be the crucial support we need when we strike. Our countrymen in Dublin need to know what's going on so they can rise up at the right moment and have our backs. The press must be our mouthpiece!"

She continued to speak with enthusiasm for a while, and the men listened, some more convinced than others. The two youngest participants, however, still sulked a little and pretended that the whole thing didn't concern them. While Cowan focused on bread and cheese, Nellie approached the half-high door to the second small room, behind which the dogs were whining pitifully. She spoke soothingly to the animals.

"What's wrong with you? Why are you acting like this? Be quiet already. It will be a while before you can go out."

But the dogs wouldn't calm down. Áine saw the girl's back suddenly stiffen, and she could feel her understanding dawning. Slowly, she turned around, allowing her gaze to drift to the window, knowing what she would find there, yet still with a glimmer of hope that her intuition might be wrong.

Of course, the vampire could have disappeared unseen in time. Perhaps it was the allure of danger that prompted her to take another step closer and peek through the crack until her eyes met the girl's. The hypnotic effect froze her. Her blue eyes sank into the deep green of the vampire's. Áine loosened her grip on the girl's mind slightly, allowing horror to take hold. Nellie took a deep breath and then let out a plaintive sound. The men fell silent, turning to her in surprise. Her hand trembled as she pointed at the window.

"It's back! The creature has returned," Nellie whispered, slumping against the wall. Her knees gave way, and she slid down until she huddled on the floor. Myles was the first to react.

"Release the dogs, quickly! Cowan, take care of your sister." And he was already at the pen, ripping open the door. Calling those beasts dogs was a gross understatement, thought the vampire. Howling and barking, they pressed toward the door, fangs bared and thirsty for blood. But they wouldn't get hers tonight!

Myles reached for his rifle, pulling back the latch of the hut door with his other hand. It was time to leave! The first two dogs were already pushing their heads through the gap when Áine turned away and dashed toward the bushes. A shot rang out, the bullet hitting a tree trunk barely a step away from her. Who would have thought the simple fisherman capable of such a quick reaction! Áine could hear the dogs behind her. Well, let them try to catch her. It would be an exciting race. She didn't have time to transform into a wolf. The dogs were already too close. The vampire veered off and circled the first village. She could still hear the barking behind her. The dogs were more persistent than she had thought. And faster too. Áine quickened her pace. The wind cooled her cheeks and blew her hair back. Although she had already run a good distance with Peregrine tonight, she felt no fatigue. She couldn't lead the dogs too close to the castle. The vampire ran a wide circle, but she couldn't shake off the bloodhounds. It was time to resort to another trick. She quickly looked left and right until she spotted a tree in the valley, overgrown with moor grasses and occasional bushes, that seemed suitable. She ran toward it, climbed the lowest, thick branch, and pulled herself up. She climbed skillfully higher and had reached the crown when the dogs skidded to a stop under the tree. Of course, they spotted their prey in the branches and jumped, barking, at the tree trunk. But they couldn't follow her up, and by the time the men arrived with their rifles, she would have long disappeared.

Áine closed her eyes and concentrated. The barking and howling sounded distant to her. She felt her mind drawing in the mist. Its cold mists licked over her skin and began to swirl. The voices of men reached her consciousness. They were closer than she had thought. The fog dispersed. No! She had to focus entirely on her transformation! Again, the barking and voices ebbed away, and then she felt the pulling and the brief stabbing pain that accompanied the change. When she opened her eyes and the mist dissipated, she perceived her world with the senses of a bat. She spread her wings, dropped from the branch, and emitted a rapid sequence of high-pitched tones. As little as she could see, every obstacle against which the sound waves bounced back formed clearly in her mind. Áine fluttered once around the heads of the bloodhounds and then flew to the men, who, with another dog on a leash, were following the track, sweaty and completely out of breath.

I must unfortunately end our game now, she thought, made one last loop, and then fluttered away toward Aughnanure.

Up on the boggy slopes of the hills, Peregrine had stopped. He turned his head and sniffed in all directions. Even though he couldn't smell anything unusual, there was something that didn't sit right with him. Something that even frightened him. Thoughtfully, Peregrine let his gaze wander back to the valley. In his mind flickered a stirring whose origin was somewhere down there. Áine! She should have been back in Aughnanure long ago, but something was happening there that was disturbing her spirit. Morning was not far off. She needed his help! With long strides, the werewolf returned to the valley.

They set off in the early evening after the Lycans had provided them with fresh sheep's blood once again. The Cioclón set sail first, as the crates and their owners didn't have to be laboriously ferried across with the dinghy. Alisa, Ivy, Luciano, and Franz Leopold were on board again, but this time Tammo, Joanne, and Fernand were also traveling with them. Fernand's rat perched cheekily on his shoulder, its fur ruffled by the breeze. Franz Leopold kept a little distance from the two Pyras. They were abhorrent to him and embodied everything he despised: They were dirty, had no manners, spoke uncouthly, and were ugly! Franz Leopold looked down at his manicured hands with the clean and neatly filed fingernails. The Pyras', on the other hand, were greasy brown, their claws grew wild and eventually broke off on their own. And then there was that rat, to which Fernand obviously harbored some sort of friendly feelings. It was disgusting and ridiculous at the same time! Franz Leopold felt Ivy's gaze on him and quickly diverted his thoughts in another direction. Even though he wondered why it should bother him if she learned his opinion. His views were good and right, and everyone should hear them. Yet, he felt uncomfortable at the thought of what Ivy might think. Franz Leopold turned abruptly and snapped at the Lycan.

"What's wrong? Why are you looking at me like that?"

"I was mainly looking at the island and keeping an eye out for the ship we spotted yesterday," she said calmly.

It annoyed him that he felt guilty for snapping at her so harshly. Nevertheless, he tried to adopt a friendly tone. "And, did you see anything?"

"Either they set off at daylight, or the ship is still hidden somewhere," she replied.

Franz Leopold stood next to her, scanning the shore at some distance as they glided past. "I can't see anything," he admitted regretfully. He turned to Ivy, but then his gaze wandered back to Joanne and Fernand. The Pyras were currently laughing crudely at something Tammo had said, revealing her missing tooth. The incisor had been a casualty of a brawl. Given their penchant for fights, one had to wonder how they had managed to keep it at just one loss so far. Franz Leopold's upper lip curled in disdain. Nothing could persuade him to engage in

 a fight with members of this clan. If fighting were to occur, it would be with serious intent in a duel with a rapier, a sword, or a few pistols in hand!

"Would you rather have the company of your cousins on board?" Ivy inquired, noticing everything as usual.

Franz Leopold pondered for a moment, then vigorously shook his head. "Certainly not!" he exclaimed from the depths of his heart. The image of Anna Christina arose within him. Her flawless beauty faded at the sight of her disgusted expression. He could hear her shrill voice, complaining about everything. You couldn't please her! And the pretty little head of little Marie Luise was so empty that she simply parroted whatever her older cousin said.

And Karl Philipp? His noble features were marred by a hint of brutality. Of course, he spoke Franz Leopold's mind when he complained about the bastards of the other clans, whom one could only find contemptible, no more valuable than vermin. It was only his rough tone that grated on Franz Leopold's nerves. 

Really?

Franz Leopold wasn't sure if he had heard the question or just thought it. He looked at Ivy, standing before him, her head tilted slightly to the side, her turquoise eyes attentively fixed on him. The wind played with her long silver locks. She was so clever, so brave, and so beautiful...

He felt something constricting his chest and wished she would look away. And yet, there was nothing he feared more in this moment. A picture formed in his mind. At first, foggy and obscure, then clearer and clearer. It made him swallow dryly. His hands clenched around the railing, as if he needed to restrain himself from doing something improper.

"There you are!" suddenly came Luciano's voice beside him. "What are you doing?" he asked suspiciously.

For the first time in his life, he was relieved by Luciano's appearance, yet at the same time disappointed and angry. Of course, Alisa wasn't far. Ivy turned to them as if nothing had happened. - But had something happened?

"We were searching the shore of the island," Ivy replied.

"Searching? Searching for what?" Alisa wanted to know. And so Ivy recounted the boat they had seen in the bay that morning.

"You're seeing ghosts," Luciano said when she finished.

"Oh, and were the traces in the cave and in the old hut also from ghosts?" Alisa exclaimed.

"No. But why would they pursue us? To destroy us?" He laughed. "Hardly. There are only five of them!"

"They certainly won't openly attack us," Alisa agreed. "If they want to harm us or the Lycan, they'll have to resort to trickery. They could have used humans while we were lying in our coffins in Dunluce. Since we're still unharmed, I assume these people are not vampire hunters."

"Vampire hunters traveling with vampires? What a strange idea," Luciano laughed.

"It's not that far-fetched," Ivy disagreed. "A common enemy can lead to the strangest alliances."

"How true," Luciano murmured, his expression darkening. They all knew what he was thinking. Of his own clan members in Rome who had betrayed the family and the vampire pact.

"Besides, that may well have been their intention, but then it turned out to be more difficult to infiltrate Dunluce Castle than they had expected. And now they are following us with their human allies, waiting for a good opportunity."

The four fell silent for a while. It was Alisa who broke the silence. "If your fears are correct, Ivy, then we're lucky to have woken up tonight. Rockfleet didn't offer us much protection! And if they've been watching us, they could have ambushed us there during the day..."

Luciano swallowed hard. "...open the coffins, pierce our hearts, and behead us."

"Get over your legendary cowardice already," Franz Leopold snapped irritably. "After all, you're still in one piece, and our pursuers are nowhere to be seen."

"Uh, not exactly," Alisa contradicted, pointing south. "Do you see that ship there? It looks like it's been waiting for us!"

The others turned around. The island, from whose castle Grace O'Malley once watched over the bay and the open sea, had also been used by their pursuers to lurk unseen for their prey. The position was chosen so that they couldn't escape unseen, no matter which way they turned. Now that they had spotted the two ships of the Lycans, they set sail. However, the sailors of the foreign ship were clever enough to choose a distance that wouldn't attract attention to an inattentive observer.

After a while, Luciano even suggested they weren't following them at all, but Ivy and Franz Leopold remained convinced. Alisa looked hesitantly at the small patch of white sails, barely standing out against the night sky. "I'm not sure. Should we tell Murrough about this? He's a sailor and might be able to assess it better."

"What advantage would it bring us to tell him?" Franz Leopold, the only one not in favor of the suggestion, objected. "He might decide, for example, to sail through the day again. Then we make it more difficult for the pursuers to keep up with us. Yes, if Murrough is a better sailor or if we have the faster ship, then maybe we can shake them off! Isn't that a good suggestion?" He challenged Alisa, but Franz Leopold only shrugged.

"Stop doing what you can't help," Ivy agreed, and the two vampire women joined the helmsman who had taken over the steering wheel. Luciano followed them. Franz Leopold, on the other hand, remained standing at the railing, continuing to watch the tiny spot on the pitch-black water that was their pursuer - presumably.

Murrough listened to what Alisa had to say and then fell silent for a while before responding. "So, you've noticed it then. I wouldn't have thought so. That's why we withdrew to the tower, which can be easily barricaded and well defended. If we had just anchored in the bay, we would have been too tempting a target."

"Do you know who they are and what they want?" Alisa pressed, but the sailor only shook his head.

"You'll have to ask Donnchadh and Catriona about that. All I know is that it's my job to make sure they don't catch up with us before I drop you off at your destination. On land, Donnchadh and Catriona will then ensure your safety."

"Where is our destination? Are we going to Connemara in the moors? You could drop us off tonight in Killary Harbour." There was such longing in Ivy's voice that Alisa looked at her astonished.

"No, not to Connemara. We sail to the coast of the Burren. We'll land in Galway Bay."

Ivy looked at him surprised. "To the Burren? But what are we going to do there?" But before Murrough could answer, she suddenly nodded knowingly. "The caves, right? Our destination is the caves."

"Yes, I suppose so. Now, let's make sure we catch the better winds - once the Réalta is close enough." He stretched his neck to see where the second ship was. It sailed a few ship lengths diagonally behind them, so they couldn't take each other's wind. Murrough nodded satisfactorily.

"That sounds like we're trying to create our own winds," Luciano said incredulously. "As if such a thing were possible."

"Look at him," Alisa whispered, not taking her eyes off the sailor. "I think he's actually trying to do that."

From the bow, Catriona came to them at the helm and stood behind the helmsman. She swayed to the rhythm of the waves and spoke softly, then it sounded like singing. Murrough also hummed in his deep bass. Alisa couldn't understand a word, but it seemed to be a kind of dialogue. She stared at the two of them fascinated. Luciano leaned over the railing and looked into the water, then his gaze wandered up to the billowing sails.

"We seem to be really going faster, and the boat isn't leaning as much in the water anymore."

Ivy nodded. "The wind has shifted. We're sailing before the wind now. That naturally increases our speed."

"What luck," Luciano exclaimed.

"Luck?" Alisa murmured. "Is that really luck?" She glanced at Ivy, but her expression remained impassive.

"Why is it going so slowly?" the thin man snapped at the captain.

"We're going as fast as we can sail this ship close to the wind," Liam said unperturbed, although he had to suppress a shudder. The cold of the night and the sea didn't bother him. But what the figure without a shadow next to him emanated was the cold of evil.

"And why are they moving further away then? You said your ship is faster than theirs."

Liam nodded. Outwardly, he remained calm. He handed Danilo his telescope. "There, look through it. Look at the position of their sails. They have different winds. Up there it comes from the north and pushes their ships ahead of it. When we reach that spot and also get into this current, then we'll make more headway."

"Let's hope so," said the pale stranger. Then they fell silent.

Columban stepped up to the captain and gave him a meaningful look.

"What's wrong?" he asked quietly.

"We won't reach the wind," he replied just as quietly.

"Do you see the foam crests? They seem to be fleeing ahead of us."

"Or following them," Liam grumbled. "I've never experienced anything like this. They were on the level of this island earlier, and see how our ship still leans and struggles not to drift east."

"Where have we gotten ourselves into?" Columban shrugged as if he were cold. "What are they? Demons who can command the wind?"

"If such a thing were possible. Holy Virgin, protect our souls," the captain exclaimed.

They fell silent as the thin stranger approached them again. "What now? I can hardly see them on the horizon anymore. They're slipping away from us!"

Liam struggled to meet the piercing eyes. They flickered in deep red.

"Yes, we'll lose them, but it's not our fault. It almost seems like the wind is on their side." He nodded into the distance, where the sails were no longer visible with the naked eye to the south.

Liam expected the stranger to become angry, but he only nodded gravely, almost approvingly.

"I've heard of this. Very well, then let's continue our

 course. We'll track them down again." And to their relief, he withdrew to the other four fellow travelers.