'I feel a bit... odd,' said Agnes.
'Ah, could be the drink,' said Nanny.
'I haven't had any!'
'No? Well, there's the problem right there. Come on.'
They hurried into the hall. Even though it was now well after midnight, the noise level was approaching the pain threshold. When the midnight hour lies on the glass like a big cocktail onion, there's always an extra edge to the laughter.
Vlad gave them an encouraging wave and beckoned them over to a group around King Verence.
'Ah, Agnes and Nanny,' said the King. 'Count, may I present-'
'Gytha Ogg and Agnes Nitt, I believe,' said the man the King had just been talking to. He bowed. For some reason a tiny part of Agnes was expecting a sombrelooking man with an exciting widow's-peak hairstyle and an opera cloak. She couldn't think why.
This man looked like... well, like a gentleman of independent means and an inquiring mind, perhaps, the kind of man who goes for long walks in the morning and spends the afternoons improving his mind in his own private library or doing small interesting exper-iments on parsnips and never, ever, worrying about money. There was something glossy about him, and also a sort of urgent, hungry enthusiasm, the kind you get when someone has just read a really interesting book and is determined to tell someone all about it.
'Allow me to present the Countess Magpyr,' he said. 'These are the witches I told you about, dear. I believe you've met my son? And this is my daughter, Lacrimosa.'
Agnes met the gaze of a thin girl in a white dress, with very long black hair and far too much eye make-up. There is such a thing as hate at first sight.
'The Count was just telling me how he is planning to move into the castle and rule the country,' said Verence. 'And I was saying that I think we shall be honoured.'
'Well done,' said Nanny. 'But if you don't mind, I don't want to miss the weasel man...'
'The trouble is that people always think of vampires in terms of their diet,' said the Count, as Nanny hurried away. 'It's really rather insulting. You eat animal flesh and vegetables, but it hardly defines you, does it?'
Verence's face was contorted in a smile, but it looked glassy and unreal.
'But you do drink human blood?' he said.
'Of course. And sometimes we kill people, although hardly at all these days. In any case, where exactly is the harm in that? Prey and hunter, hunter and prey. The sheep was designed as dinner for the wolf, the wolf as a means of preventing overgrazing by the sheep. If you examine your teeth, sire, you'll see that they are designed for a particular kind of diet and, indeed, your whole body is constructed to take advantage of it. And so it is with us. I'm sure the nuts and cabbages do not blame you. Hunter and prey are all just part of the great cycle of life.'
'Fascinating,' said Verence. Little beads of sweat were rolling down his face.
'Of course, in Uberwald everyone understands this instinctively,' said the Countess. 'But it is rather a backward place for the children. We are so looking forward to Lancre.'
'Very glad to hear it,' said Verence.
'And so kind of you to invite us,' she went on. 'Otherwise we could not have come, of course.'
'Not exactly,' said the Count, beaming at his wife. 'But I have to admit that the prohibition against entering places uninvited has proved curiously... durable. It must be something to do with ancient territorial instincts. But,' he added brightly, 'I have been working on an instructional technique which I'm sure will, within a few years-'
'Oh, don't let's go through all that dull stuff again,' said Lacrimosa.
'Yes, I suppose it can sound a little tedious,' said the Count, smiling benevolently at his daughter. 'Has anyone any more of that wonderful garlic dip?'
The King still looked uneasy, Agnes noticed. Which was odd, because the Count and his family seemed absolutely charming and what they were saying made perfect sense. Everything was perfectly all right.
'Exactly,' said Vlad, beside her. 'Do you dance, Miss Nitt?' On the other side of the hall, the Lancre Light Symphony Orchestra (cond. S. Ogg) was striking up and out at random.
'Ur...' She stopped it turning into a giggle. 'Not really. Not very well...'
Didn't you listen to what they were saying? They're vampires!
'Shut up,' she said aloud.
'I beg your pardon?' said Vlad, looking puzzled.