last looked in a mirror.
“Are you quite finished, Cezar?”
“Don’t be angry, Jena, I—”
“Are you finished?”
“For now. I simply ask you to think about this. You judge me too harshly.”
“All things considered,” I said, “I think I’ve shown remarkable self-restraint. You can forget about my making little trips to your door through the snow to grovel for money. You can forget about sending men over to help on the farm. As you can see, I’m perfectly capable of making my own arrangements. And I’ll find someone else to take my letters to Constan?ta.”
He did not reply. Both of us knew there was nobody else.
Few people had the means to travel such difficult ways in wintertime. Our position was so isolated that I’d have no opportunity to seek out other merchants or traders before the spring. When Father was home, much of the business was conducted through his agents in the towns, using Dorin as a go-between. But Dorin had been asked to stay away. If I wanted to send letters to Father, Cezar was my only means of delivery.
That meant I could not write the truth—not all of it.
“I’d advise you not to come here for a while,” I said, struggling 147
to keep my voice under control. “You’ve made me quite angry and you’ve upset Paula. Please take your friends and go home.”
“I think—” said Cezar, but I never heard what he thought.
We opened the kitchen door on an uproar. In the center of the room stood small, wizened Petru, and by the hearth a younger man of similar build: his grandson, Ivan. Petru was telling some kind of tale, stumbling over his words as Daniel and R?azvan and my sisters bombarded him with questions. Florica, pale as bread dough, was muttering and crossing herself. Tati alarmed me most of all, for there were hectic red spots on her cheeks and she was clutching her tea glass so tightly I expected it to shatter at any moment.
“What—” I began, but Cezar’s bigger voice boomed over mine.
“Sit down, all of you, and speak one at a time. Tatiana, what has happened here?”
Tati turned her big violet eyes on him, but did not speak.
“Iulia?” I queried. “What is it?”
“Petru has a terrible story,” Iulia said, her lip quivering.
“A killing.” Petru’s voice was as grim as his seamed and creviced face. “Ivona, daughter of Marius the miller. Only fifteen years old. Her mother went in at dawn, and there was the girl, sprawled across the quilt like a rag doll, white as snow: a bloodless corpse.”
“What are you saying?” I whispered, not prepared to acknowledge, even to myself, that I already knew the answer.
“She had puncture wounds on her neck,” said Florica heavily. “A bite.”
148
“You know what that means.” Petru tightened his lips.
And although nobody actually said it aloud, our blanched faces and shocked eyes spoke the words for us, into the silence of a shared terror. Without a shred of doubt, this was the work of the Night People.
149
Chapter Seven
Cezar took charge immediately. He would head straight down to the village to meet with Judge Rinaldo. The able-bodied men of the district must arm themselves however they could in readiness for going out into the forest at dusk to hunt down the evildoer. They would bring him to justice or they would kill him. Even as Cezar spoke, Petru and Ivan, R?azvan and Daniel were donning cloaks and gathering their belongings to leave.
Tati had fled upstairs. After a little, my other sisters followed, leaving me to deal with the situation.
“Jena,” Cezar said gravely, “I will be advising all households to install appropriate defensive measures—not just on their dwellings, but on barns and outhouses as well. I want Florica to do the same: garlic, iron nails, amulets— whatever you can manage.”
“Marius’s place was well protected,” Petru said, pulling his 150
sheepskin hat down over his ears. “That didn’t stop the creature from coming in.”
Tadeusz’s words rang in my head:
“I don’t want any of you girls going outside,” Cezar said.
“Nor you, Florica, unless you absolutely must. You’ll need to tend to the work of the farm, I know, at least until we can spare Petru. But keep it to what is essential, and be always on your guard. Come back inside and bolt your doors and windows well before dusk.” He was looking at me closely. “It’s all right, Jena,” he said in a different tone. “We’ll catch this beast—
I give you my promise.” He took my hand. “I think, after all, one of us should remain here with you. R?azvan, will you stay at Piscul Dracului in my absence? Make sure the young ladies are not frightened. You should keep your crossbow at hand at all times.”
R?azvan gave a curt nod. He looked annoyed. It was plain that the task of guarding a household of women was less to his liking than a manly mission of vengeance.
“Remember my warnings. Keep the doors locked,” said Cezar. “Be watchful, all of you. This is a dark time.” And he was gone.
