'Oh, Mother,' said Lacrimosa.
'I'm sure we should love it,' said Verence. Agnes wouldn't have noticed the sweat running down his face if Perdita hadn't pointed it out: He's trying to fight it, she said. Aren't you glad you've got me?
There was some bustling while a wad of sheet music was pulled out of the piano stool and the young lady sat down to play. She glared at Agnes before beginning. There was some sort of chemistry there, although it was the sort that results in the entire building being evacuated.
It's a racket, said the Perdita within, after the first few bars. Everyone's looking as though it's wonderful but it's a din!
Agnes concentrated. The music was beautiful but if she really paid attention, with Perdita nudging her, it wasn't really there at all. It sounded like someone playing scales, badly and angrily.
I can say that at any time, she thought. Any time I want, I can just wake up.
Everyone else applauded politely. Agnes tried to, but found that her left hand was suddenly on strike. Perdita was getting stronger in her left arm.
Vlad was beside her so quickly that she wasn't even aware that he'd moved.
'You are a... fascinating woman, Miss Nitt,' he said. 'Such lovely hair, may I say? But who is Perdita?'
'No one, really,' Agnes mumbled. She fought against the urge to bunch her left hand into a fist. Perdita was screaming at her again.
Vlad stroked a strand of her hair. It was, she knew, good hair. It wasn't simply big hair, it was enormous hair, as if she was trying to counterbalance her body. It was glossy, it never split, and was extremely well behaved except for a tendency to eat combs.
'Eat combs?' said Vlad, coiling the hair around his finger.
'Yes, it-'
He can see what you're thinking.
Vlad looked puzzled again, like someone trying to make out some faint noise.
'You... can resist, can't you?' he said. 'I was watching you when Lacci was playing the piano and losing. Do you have any vampire blood in you?'
'What? No!'
'It could be arranged, haha.' He grinned. It was the sort of grin that Agnes supposed was called infectious but, then, so was measles. It filled her immediate future. Something was pouring over her like a pink fluffy cloud saying: it's all right, everything is fine, this is exactly right...
'Look at Mrs Ogg there,' said Vlad. 'Grinning like a pumpkin, ain't she? And she is apparently one of the more powerful witches in the mountains. It's almost distressing, don't you think?'
Tell him you know he can read minds, Perdita commanded.
And again, the puzzled, quizzical look.
'You can-' Agnes began.
'No, not exactly. Just people,' said Vlad. 'One learns, one learns. One picks things up.' He flung himself down on a sofa, one leg over the arm, and stared thoughtfully at her.
'Things will be changing, Agnes Nitt,' he said. 'My father is right. Why lurk in dark castles? Why be ashamed? We're vampires. Or, rather, vampyres. Father's a bit keen on the new spelling. He says it indicates a clean break with a stupid and superstitious past. In any case, it's not our fault. We were born vampires.'
'I thought you became-'
'-vampires by being bitten? Dear me, no. Oh, we can turn people into vampires, it's an easy technique, but what would be the point? When you eat... now what is it you eat? Oh yes, chocolate... you don't want to turn it into another Agnes Nitt, do you? Less chocolate to go around.' He sighed. 'Oh dear, superstition, superstition everywhere we turn. Isn't it true that we've been here at least ten minutes and your neck is quite free of anything except a small amount of soap you didn't wash off?'
Agnes's hand flew to her throat.
'We notice these things,' said Vlad. 'And now we're here to notice them. Oh, Father is powerful in his way, and quite an advanced thinker, but I don't think even he is aware of the possibilities. I can't tell you how good it is to be out of that place, Miss Nitt. The werewolves... oh dear, the werewolves... Marvellous people, it goes without saying, and of course the Baron has a certain rough style, but really... give them a good deer hunt, a warm spot in front of the fire and a nice big bone and the rest of the world can go hang. We have done our best, we really have. No one has done more than Father to bring our part of the country into the Century of the Fruitbat '
'It's nearly over-' Agnes began.
'Perhaps that's why he's so keen,' said Vlad. 'The place is just full of... well, remnants. I mean... centaurs? Really! They've got no business surviving. They're out of place. And frankly all the lower races are just as bad. The trolls are stupid, the dwarfs are devious, the pixies are evil and the gnomes stick in your teeth. Time they were gone. Driven out. We have great hopes of Lancre.' He looked around disdainfully. 'After some redecoration.'