'Thorry. But they won't be able to try that on the inthide doorth. Come on!'
'What's that smell?' said Nanny, sniffing. 'Igor, your boots are on fire!'
'Damn! And thethe feet were nearly new thicth month ago,' said Igor, as Nanny's holy water sizzled over the smoking leather. 'It'th my wire, it pickth up thtray currentth.'
'What happened, someone was hit by a falling buffalo?' said Nanny, as they hurried down the stairs.
'It wath a tree,' said Igor reproachfully. 'Mikhail Thwenitth up at the logging camp, the poor man. Practically nothing left, but hith parentth thaid I could have hith feet to remember him by.'
'That was strangely kind of them.'
'Well, I gave him a thpare arm after the acthe acthident a few yearth ago and when old Mr Thwenitth'th liver gave out I let him have the one Mr Kochak left to me for giving Mithith Kochak a new eye.'
'People round here don't so much die as pass on,' said Nanny.
'What goeth around cometh around,' said Igor.
'And your new plan is... ?' said Lacrimosa, stepping across the rubble.
'We'll kill everyone. Not an original plan, I admit, but tried and tested,' said the Count. This met with general approval, but his daughter looked unsatisfied.
'What, everyone? All at once?'
'Oh, you can save some for later if you must.'
The Countess clutched his arm.
'Oh, this does so remind me of our honeymoon,' she said. 'Don't you remember those wonderful nights in Grjsknvij?'
'Oh, fresh morning of the world indeed,' said the Count solemnly.
'Such romance... and we met such lovely people, too. Do you remember Mr and Mrs Harker?'
'Very fondly. I recall they lasted nearly all week. Now, listen all of you. Holy symbols will not hurt us. Holy water is just water - yes, I know, but Cryptopher just wasn't concentrating. Garlic is just another member of the allium family. Do onions hurt us? Are we frightened of shallots? No. We've just got a bit tired, that's all. Malicia, call up the rest of the clan. We will have a little holiday from reason. And afterwards, in the morning, there will be room for a new world order I can't be having with this at all...'
He rubbed his forehead. The Count prided himself on his mind, and tended it carefully. But right now it felt exposed, as though someone was looking over his shoulder. He wasn't certain he was thinking right. She couldn't have got into his head, could she? He'd had hundreds of years of experience. There was no way some village witch could get past his defences. It stood to reason...
His throat felt parched. At least he could obey the call of his nature. But this time it was an oddly disquieting one.
'Do we have any... tea?' he said.
'What is tea?' said the Countess.
'It... grow on a bush, I think,' said the Count.
'How do you bite it, then?'
'You... er... lower it into boiling water, don't you?' The Count shook his head, trying to free himself of this demonic urge.
'While it's still alive?' said Lacrimosa, brightening up.
... sweet biscuits...'mumbled the Count.
'I think you should try to get a grip, dear,' said the Countess.
'This... tea,' said Lacrimosa. 'Is it... brown?'
'Yes,' whispered the Count..