Carpe Jugulum (Discworld 23)

The crowd parted. Granny Weatherwax walked forward, slowly stirring.

'No milk in this place,' she said. 'Not to be wondered at, really. I sliced a bit of lemon, but it's not the same, I always think.'

She laid the spoon in the saucer with a clink that echoed around the hall, and gave the Count a smile.

'Am I too late?' she said.

The bolts rattled back, one by one.

'... 'th gone too far,' Igor muttered. 'The old marthter wouldn't...'

The door creaked back on lovingly rusted hinges. Cool dry air puffed out of the darkness.

Igor fumbled with some matches and lit a torch.

'... it'th all very well wanting a nithe long retht, but thith ith a dithgrathe...'

He ran along the dark corridors, half rough masonry, half sheer naked rock, and reached another chamber that was completely empty apart from a large stone sarcophagus in the centre, on the side of which was carved MAGPYR.

He stuffed the torch into a bracket, removed his coat and after considerable pushing heaved the stone lid aside.

'Thorry about thith, marthter,' he grunted as it thudded to the ground.

Inside the coffin grey dust twinkled in the torchlight.

'... coming up here, mething everything up...' Igor picked up his coat and took a thick wad of material out of his pocket. He unrolled it on the edge of the stone,. Now the light glinted off an array of scalpels, scissors and needles.

... threatening little babieth now... you never done that... only adventurouth femaleth over the age of theventeen and looking good in a nightie, you alwayth thed...'

He selected a scalpel and, with some care, nicked the little finger of his left hand.

A drop of blood appeared, swelled and dropped on to the dust, where it smoked.

'That one'th for Thcrapth,' said Igor with grim satisfaction.

By the time he'd reached the door white mist was already pouring over the edge of the coffin.

'I'm an old lady' said Granny Weatherwax, looking around sternly. 'I'd like to sit down, thank you so very much.'

A bench was rushed forward. Granny sat, and eyed the Count.

'What were you saying?' she said.

'Ah, Esmerelda,' said the Count. 'At last you come to join us. The call of the blood is too strong to be disobeyed, yes?'

'I hope so,' said Granny.

'We're all going to walk out of here, Miss Weatherwax.'

'You're not leaving here,' said Granny. She stirred the tea again. The eyes of all three vampires swivelled to follow the spoon.

'You have no choice but to obey me. You know that,' said the Count.

'Oh, there's always a choice,' said Granny.

Vlad and Lacrimosa leaned down on either side of their father. There was some hurried whispering. The Count looked up.

'No, you couldn't have resisted it,' he said. 'Not even you!'