Dracula's Arc

Chapter 4 of 4

The wedding order had gone out, and Walachia stirred with plans. But Dracula sat alone in his throne hall, under the great crimson banner with its black dragon. He had told himself he was done with Maria. He had chosen his wives, his children, the sun Ali had gifted him. Yet the empty medallion still weighed on his chest like a stone. He needed one thing before he could truly let go. He needed to know her soul could still be reached. He sent for the Mother. She came the length of the hall, her three-mile veil sliding across the black stone behind her. She stopped at the foot of his throne and did not climb the steps. "You called me from my shield," she said. "Say why." "Summon Maria," Dracula said. "One last time. I only want to see her. To know she can be reached." The Mother's face did not move. "No." "I am not asking for the rite. That is gone. I ask for a single call across the dark." "When I summoned her before, something followed her out," the Mother said. "It is still climbing. Every call opens the door wider. I will not open it again." She stated it once. She did not soften it. Dracula stood. His voice dropped low. "You resurrected me. You can reach the dead better than any witch alive. Do this, or I will find a witch who will." "There is no other," she said. "And no witch would live through it." She turned and started back down the hall, her veil dragging after her. Renfield waited at the base of the great spiral stair, a wine jug in his thin hands. He had heard it all. He watched the Mother pass, then looked up at his master. "She will not," he said. It was not a question. "No." Dracula sank back onto the throne. Renfield climbed three steps and set the jug on the stone. "I open the vault under the chapel," he said. "No magic works inside it. Not the Mother's shield. Not the thing that climbs." He paused. "If a soul cannot be called there, it cannot be called at all. You would have your answer. Clean." Dracula looked at the starved familiar he had cursed and kept. "You would open it for me?" "I open it for whoever asks," Renfield said, dry. "You are asking." That night they went down. Renfield laid his welted hand on the sealed door and it swung wide. Dracula stepped into the dead air. He spoke Maria's name into the silence. He waited. Nothing answered. No voice. No shape. No thread across the dark. He understood then. It was not that the Mother refused. It was that magic itself was sealed here, and Maria was on the other side of a door only magic could open. His answer was plain. To reach her, he would have to face the thing that guarded the way out.