'Er... no,' said Agnes. Ah... moral cowardice from the fat girl. 'Er... who are they?'
'Oh, we brought some of the clan in on the carts. They can make themselves useful, Father said.'
'Oh? They're relatives?' Granny Weatherwax would've said yes, Perdita whispered.
Vlad coughed gently. 'By blood,' he said. 'Yes. In a way. But... subservient. Do come this way.'
He gently took her arm and led her back up the passage, treading heavily on Crimson's twitching hand as he did so.
'You mean vampirism is like... pyramid selling?' said Agnes. She was alone with Vlad. Admittedly this had the edge over being alone with the other two, but somehow at a time like this it seemed vital to hear the sound of her own voice, if only to remind herself that she was alive.
'I'm sorry?' said Vlad. 'Who sells pyramids?'
'No, I mean... you bite five necks, and in two months' time you get a lake of blood of your very own?'
He smiled, but a little cautiously. 'I can see we will have a lot to learn,' he said. 'I understood every word in that sentence, but not the sentence itself. I'm sure there is a lot you could teach me. And, indeed, I could teach you...'
'No,' said Agnes, flatly.
'But when we- Oh, what is that moron doing now?'
A cloud of dust was advancing from the direction of the kitchens. In the middle of it, holding a bucket and a shovel, was Igor.
'Igor!'
'Yeth, marthter?'
'You're putting down dust again, aren't you?'
'Yeth, marthter.'
'And why are you putting down dust, Igor?' said Vlad icily.
'You've got to have dutht, marthter. It'th tradi-'
'Igor, Mother told you. We don't want dust. We don't want huge candlesticks. We don't want eyeholes cut in all the pictures, and we certainly don't want your wretched box of damn spiders and your stupid little whip!'
In the ringing, red-hot silence Igor looked down at his feet.
'... thpiderth webth ith what people ecthpect, marthter...' he mumbled.
'We don't want them!'
'... the old Count liked my thpiderth...' said Igor, his voice like some little insect that would nevertheless not be squashed.
'It's ridiculous, Igor.'
'... he uthed to thay, "Good webth today, Igor..."'
'Look, just... just go away, will you? See if you can't sort out that dreadful smell from the garderobe. Mother says it makes her eyes water. And stand up straight and walk properly!' Vlad called after him. 'No one's impressed by the limp!'
Agnes saw Igor's retreating back pause for a moment, and she expected him to say something. But then he continued his wobbly walk.
'He's such a big baby,' said Vlad, shaking his head. 'I'm sorry you had to see that.'
'Yes, I think I'm sorry too,' said Agnes.
'He's going to be replaced. Father's only been keeping him on out of sentiment. I'm afraid he came with the old castle, along with the creaking roof and the strange smell halfway up the main stairs which, I have to say, is not as bad as the one we've noticed here. Oh dear... look at this, will you? We turn our back for five minutes...'