'It's too dark and far too wet. Wait until morning.'
Granny pulled herself up. 'No. Find a stick or something I can lean on. Go on.'
'Well... there's a hazel grove just along the slope, but...'
'Just the thing, a good bit of hazel. Well, don't just stand there. I'm feeling better every minute. Off you go.'
He disappeared into the dripping shadows.
Granny flapped her skirts in front of the blaze to circulate some warm air, and something small and white flew up from the ashes, dancing in the fire and sleet.
She picked it up from the moss where it had landed.
It was a piece of thin paper, the charred corner of a page. She could just make out, in the red light, the words '... of Om... aid unto... Ossory smote...' The paper was attached to a burnt strip of leather binding.
She regarded it for a while, and then dropped it carefully into the flames as the sound of crackling twigs indicated Oats's return.
'Can you even find the way in all this?' he said, handing her a long hazel pole.
'Yes. You go on one side of me, and I've got this staff. Then it's just a walk in the woods, eh?' 'You don't look better.'
'Young man, if we're going to wait for me to look interestin' we'll be here for years.'
She raised a hand and the wowhawk flew down out of the shadows.
'Good thing you were able to get a fire going, all the same,' she said, without turning round.
'I have always found that if I put my trust in Om a way will be found,' said Oats, hurrying after her.
'I reckon Om helps those who helps themselves,' said Granny.
Through the town of Escrow the windows glowed as lamps were lit and there was the sound of doors being unbolted. Over all, the bell went on ringing out through the fog.
'Normally we congregate in the town square,' said Vlad.
'It's the middle of the night!' said Agnes.
'Yes, but it doesn't happen very often, and our covenant says never more than twice in a month,' said Vlad. 'Do you see how prosperous the place is? People are safe in Escrow. They've seen reason. No shutters on the windows, do you see? They don't have to bar their windows or hide in the cellar, which I have to admit is what people do in the... less well regulated areas of our country. They exchanged fear for security. They-' He stumbled, and steadied himself against a wall. Then he rubbed his forehead. 'Sorry. I felt a little... strange. What was I saying?'
'How should I know?' snapped Agnes. 'You were talking about how happy everyone is because the vampires visit, or something.'
'Oh, yes. Yes. Because of co-operation, not enmity. Because...' he pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his face '... because... well, you'll see... is it rather cold here?'
'Just clammy,' said Agnes.
'Let's get to the square,' Vlad muttered. 'I'm sure I shall feel better.'
It was just ahead. Torches had been lit. People had congregated there, most of them with blankets across their shoulders or a coat over their night clothes, standing around in aimless groups like people who'd heard the fire alarm but hadn't seen the smoke.
One or two of them caught sight of Vlad and there was a certain amount of coughing and shuffling.
Other vampires were descending through the mist. The Count landed gently and nodded to Agnes.
'Ah, Miss Nitt,' he said vaguely. 'Are we all here, Vlad?'
The bell stopped. A moment later Lacrimosa descended.
'You've still got her?' she said to Vlad, raising her eyebrows. 'Oh, well...'