Dracula's Ghost - Chapter 20
A Ruined Tomb in an Unknown Land
London
Spring, 1894
The scar on Mina’s forehead vanishes at the instant of Dracula’s passing, and Van Helsing assures her that she is fully recovered. Still, she wonders, and on the rare nights when Jonathan is away, she sleeps poorly. Mina is surprised to realize that she does not fear Dracula’s return, for Jonathan and Quincy banished that particular demon, nor for Lucy. She does not even fear the countless victims upon whom Dracula might have preyed upon during his short time in London. It is the children that she dreads. The lurid headline plays in her mind - Another Child Assaulted by the Monster of Hampstead Heath.
Lucy’s children are still out there, and she is afraid, lest they come searching for their lost mother.
I.
London
1933
The funeral was over by eleven, and Sarah forced herself to relax as Archie wandered among the tombstones - since her return, even brief separations from her son were nearly unbearable. The autumn rain left her miserable, and she found herself longing for the arid climate of India, where there were no ghosts or unhappy memories. At least the pain in her leg was gone, and perhaps the dreams would fade in time. Is this what it was like for mama? Doing her best to protect me from a world more deadly than her worst fear?
The interrogators had been unfailingly polite, and after her third session, Sarah conceded that her kidnapping could have been related to her father’s business. After all, Jonathan Harker had been a solicitor for a long time, and not every client went away satisfied. When asked if her father had been involved in any illegal activities, she had laughed aloud. They can’t decide if he committed suicide to avoid arrest, or I pushed him over a cliff. Her father, she suspected, would have been amused by the whole mess.
A hand touched her shoulder. Scotland Yard had put Amy through the wringer as well, but she bore the trouble with equanimity. “Nothing to it dear - I just keep my mouth shut and let the barrister handle the hard stuff.” They chatted idly, and when the words ran dry, Sarah let her mind wander as they sat among the tombstones. One more box, unknown to the others.
“Sarah!” Katherine Holmwood made her way through the tombstones. “Are we still having tea this afternoon?”
Amy made her way toward the cemetery gate, and Sarah watched as she paused to talk with Archie. Amy pointed at the sky, and Sarah read the excitement in the boy’s emphatic nod. The clouds parted overhead, and a few rays of sunshine warmed the air as Sarah went to collect her son.
II.
Rain continued to patter against the roof, and the occasional gust rattled the windowpanes as Katherine Holmwood sat upright in bed. The remaining leaves would be gone by morning, she thought with a touch of sadness. When the last servants retired and the house was completely still, she collected the key and went downstairs.
The manor had been wired for electricity after the War, but it had seemed pointless to bring light to the darkest corners of the old house, and Katherine lit an old lantern before turning her key in the lock. The floor was bare earth, and she really should have asked Horace to put down flagstones, but it seemed extravagant for such a little-used room. Besides, she disliked the idea of allowing strangers into the cellar. The box lay in the far corner of the room, and Katherine opened the lid to inhale the scent of moldy earth.
The summer of 1893 had been so good, so perfect, before Jonathan Harker’s disappearance and Lucy’s failing health. By September, Lucy was dead, and Mina was away on the continent, tending to her ill husband. Feeling lonely, she had taken a walk on the Heath at sunset -
And I found Lucy, beautiful as a goddess, with her pale skin and iridescent eyes. She was so happy to see me. Afterward, she had lain in bed for a week, pale and feeble.
Katherine could not understand why the box reminded her of Lucy, just as she could not understand the compulsion that drove her to move the old relic, discovered in Purfleet after Arthur’s suicide, to the cellar of her home. Jonathan could explain its meaning and purpose, she was certain of that much, but she pushed all questions away, just as she kept him at arm’s length . After all, she liked John - Mina did well when she married him. Her dreams were troubling, but Katherine took comfort in her resistance to the whispering voice that urged her onward. Let his blood run into the soil, warm and nourishing, and something wonderful will sprout.
It wasn’t all my doing, she thought. Another voice called to her, faint but audible, always warning of danger. Lucy? Definitely a woman’s voice.
Katherine Holmwood closed the lid and locked the cellar door. Really, I should get rid of the damned thing - let Horace take it to the edge of the estate and burn it with the rubbish. Perhaps tomorrow, after a good night’s sleep. She headed upstairs for her bedroom. In the cellar behind her, the box lay on the earthen floor, forgotten.