Renfield Tomar's Arc

Chapter 3 of 3

The root still sat in Renfield's fist a week later. The Mother's words looped in his head. He could not touch the thirst by poison. But she had spoken of another path, one he had missed until now. If Dracula's thirst could not be dulled, perhaps it could be replaced. He needed to know what could feed a vampire besides human blood. So he went where such secrets lived: the great hall, where his master ruled and read. He found Dracula on the throne of black stone and crimson velvet. The gold dragon shone on his chest. Above him hung the crimson banner, its black dragon ringed by bats. Renfield climbed the red-carpeted stair with the goblet. His hunched back ached on every step. He knelt and poured. He tasted first, as the rite demanded. Then he asked the question he had rehearsed. "My lord. Has any vampire ever fed on something other than a mortal's blood?" Dracula's red eyes fixed him. "Why does a cupbearer ask such a thing?" "To serve you better," Renfield said. "To know what your body craves." Dracula considered him for a long moment. "There is animal blood. It sustains but does not satisfy. There is old blood, cold blood. Both are weak." He paused. "Nothing feeds a vampire as a living human heart does. Nothing else will ever be enough." The answer landed like a stone in Renfield's chest. His whole plan rested on finding a substitute. Dracula had just told him none existed. A veil hissed across the floor. The Mother entered, her white train flowing out the doors behind her. She had heard. Her blue eyes moved from Renfield to the goblet to the king. She said nothing, but her look pinned him. Dracula rose and left the hall. His cape dragged down the stair. The Mother stayed. She waited until his steps faded, then crossed to Renfield. "You asked a dangerous question," she said. "I need to know if anything can replace blood," Renfield answered. "He says nothing can." "He is wrong." She said it flat and quiet. "Blood is not the only hunger a vampire can be bound to. There is a rite. A white-magic rite. It can bind a vampire to feed on animals alone. To renounce human blood forever." Renfield's breath caught. "Then bind him. Bind Dracula." "It costs stored moonlight, years of it, gathered in stone worn on the skin. I will not spend mine on his ruin." She leaned close. "But the rite exists. The knowledge exists. Where you find the power is your burden, not mine." She turned and swept out, her veil dragging behind her. Renfield stood alone beneath the banner. His old plan was dead. Dracula's thirst could not be dulled or fooled. But now he knew the shape of the true path. A rite could break the thirst for good. He needed the rite, and he needed moonlight to power it. His hunt had a name at last.