Rachael's Story Begins

Southern Poland, 1512 AD

She felt like a monster.

No, she thought, I AM a monster…

So, she had to leave town.

And fast.

Her father was right.

If the Christians get even a whisper of her, they may kill us all… he had told her mother that night.

Her parents didn’t know that she could hear them both.

Clinging to the ceiling, like a roach, her animal fangs out, she listened to them.

She hadn’t told her parents that her hearing also improved at night.

Her parents were scared and rightly so…

With a heavy heart, she decided to flee the following night. It was too late in the night now.

I wouldn’t get far before the change at dawn…

When she was normal again.

And just a lost 12 year old Jewish girl.

She was happy when she’d had her first menarche, two mornings ago.

She was less happy after that first sunset.

Becoming a woman, like her mother had done, didn’t involve the desire to commit sin.

Drinking blood was expressly prohibited by the Torah, as offensive to God.

And it was offensive to her, too.

She didn’t understand the great strength she had, or the fangs, either, come night fall.

Her parents told her of the vampires, who drank blood in the night.

They told of her the witch cursing her father and her mother, then pregnant with her.

It was too much for a 12 year old Jewish girl to bear.

Parents are coming…

She crawled down the wall to her bed, and crawled in it, pulling the sheets up to her neck.

Closing her eyes, she pretended to sleep.

Both parents came into the room, and watched her, quietly.

“She is sleeping, Jakob,” her mother said.

“She is,” Jakob said, “Such a wonderful child. What are we to do? We must send Rachael away.”

It broke Rachael’s heart to hear that.

The mother sobbed quietly as Jakob held her.

It took all of young Rachael’s emotional strength to not cry out.

*

She secretly packed for her trip as her parents slept. At dusk tonight, she would be ready.

Tears ran quietly down her cheeks.

“Rachael,” her mother called, “I hear you. Why are you awake?”

“Because I’m a monster,” Rachael said, trying not to sob.

She could smell her mother’s blood by her bedroom door.

“Oh, Rachael,” she said, “You are not a monster.”

“Yes, I am,” Rachael hissed quietly, “I am cursed. You should have never taken me. You should have let me die.”

Her mother came into the room.

“Where are you?”

“Up here, Mama,” she said.

Her mother looked up at her daughter, who had her back to the ceiling, and gasped.

“See, Mama?” she said opening her mouth to show her extended fangs, “I AM a monster.”

She heard Papa stirring. “Papa is awake.”

“What?”

“I can hear him getting his robe,” Rachael said, “I can smell his blood, and yours. And I am hungry for blood, Mama… No, not yours… or Papa’s…”

“I have to go, Mama,” Rachael said, as her father came into the room.

“Come down from that ceiling, now!” her father barked.

Rachael dropped from the ceiling onto her bed.

Both parents gasped.

Rachael could feel her parents’ blood calling her, like the scent of a bakery shop when you are hungry.

“Where will you go, my child?” her father asked.

“I do not know, Papa,” Rachael said, “You are right, Papa. I am a danger to all of us in the Jewish Quarter.”

“Oh, Rachael,” her mother said, grabbing her daughter and hugging her, “Were you leaving tonight?”

“It is too late in the night now, Rachael,” Jakob said.

Rachael fought the urge to bite her mother. Their proximity to one another made it even more difficult for Rachael to do so than normal.

Her mother sighed, letting her go. “My Rachael, we both love you,” Jakob nodded his agreement. “Where will you go?”

“Far from here,” Rachael sighed, and began to sob.

Jakob left the room.

Rachael perked up when she suddenly smelled animal blood.

Jakob returned with a wineskin, and it reeked of animal blood.

“I had to bribe the butcher,” he said, with a wink, “If you need to eat blood, then do so…”

“That is a sin, Papa,” Rachael said.

“I know. I have asked the Rabbi for guidance,” Jakob said, “He said to feed you if need it. He is pondering the issue and praying for guidance. And for your soul.”

Her mother looked away as Jakob gave his daughter the wineskin.

Rachael’s head cocked back and she sank her fangs into the skin, drinking greedily.

Jakob watched with fascination tinged with horror at his beloved daughter.

“You, my child, we named for the beloved wife of Jacob, the Patriarch,” Jakob said, “We have such hopes and dreams for you. We knew that you had been cursed. I admit, Hannah, your mother, was more willing to take you than I was,” Jakob smiled sheepishly, “But I have never regretted it since. Not 10 years ago, not 5 years ago, not tonight, my beloved Rachael. Tomorrow you will stay home. I have a court appointment, some financial matters for the King. After that, I will try to return before dark. We will help you pack. We will plan your escape, my child.”

Rachael was surprised, and smiled at her father.

“You have blood on your lips dear,” Hannah said, “Let me wipe it for you.”

Hannah carefully wiped her daughters bloody lips and face with the edge of her robe.

“Your lips are very red,” Hannah said, “And so beautiful, my Rachael. I remember when I first saw your tiny, beautiful face peeking out from the blankets that they had swaddled you in, in that basket by the door. I was very surprised to find you outside of my door, my child. I fell in love with you then, and I love you still, my daughter.”

Rachael retracted her fangs, and smiled at her mother.

“Come,” Jakob said, “I have an early day tomorrow, and it is very late. Let us sleep.”

*

Rachael ate her food greedily.

“Thank you, Mama,” she said, “That was a large meal. I feel really full.”

“It was delicious as always, Hannah,” Jakob said, “Are you packed my, little Rachael?”

‘Yes, Papa,” she said.

“There is a wineskin of blood in your room. Take it with you. Be careful to not be seen, Rachael,” Jakob said, “These Christians only need a simple excuse.”

“I know, Papa. I will be careful.”

*

Rachael ran through the woods. On her mother’s advice she ran south.

“Go to Babia Gora,” she said, “Where it is said the witches are…”

The Witches’ Mountain…

So Rachael ran onward through the forest.

She smelled dogs of some sort, so she leapt up into a tree.

“Wolves,” she said, as they began to assemble under her tree.

The barked and growled at her.

And she was afraid.

She growled back.

The wolves weren’t impressed with that….

So Rachael took a deep breath…

And let out an earsplitting growl of her own.

The wolves yelped, and began to leave.

“Where did that come from?” she wondered.

So she did it again.

A smile came across her face, the first one since she’d left Krakow.

*

Morning came, and Rachael was tired.

And alone.

All alone.

And hungry and thirsty.

Her food supplies from home were running low, and her water was nearly gone.

“What am I to do, Lord?” she asked.

Finding a nice quiet spot near a road, but out of view of passersby, she lay down for a nap.

The Sun was high in the sky when she woke up.

Rachael saw no one on the road, so she decided to walk at the road’s edge.

The Sun was bright and warm.

Rachael knew that she only had the summer to decide what to do.

I will not survive the winter.

But I must master this curse, before I go home….

Rachael’s eyes teared at the thought of home.

“Abraham must have felt like this,” she said, “Leaving home.”

Hearing the clatter of horses, and the clanging of armor approaching from behind her, she ducked into the wood.

Laying low, she saw several men galloping by.

Warriors, she thought, Christian warriors.

Hearing nothing, she stood up and carefully left the edge of the forest.

The Sun was a little lower in the sky.

To go south, Rachael knew, the setting Sun had to be to her right.

Rachael shook her head, thinking of her predicament.

A monster by night, but only by night, she had to leave her home to save her family, and her kin.

Adopted kin, yes, but the only family that she had ever known.

They had taken in a cursed Christian child, and told her that it had been God’s will.

Rachael looked up to the sky, then fell to her knees, bowing her head.

“Why, Lord, why me?” she asked, not expecting an answer.

She let herself scream and rail against her God, as the tears flowed.

After a few moments of anger, doubt and self-pity, Rachael got up to her feet, and trudged onward.

She wiped the tears from her face as she walked.

To a witches’ mountain, Rachael realized, to a place her parents only knew by reputation, and she knew even less of.

Maybe a witch from the forest there would help her, where her Rabbi could not.

She ate the apple as she walked along, all too aware that she had little food left.

And no hunting skills, or weapons…

By day, anyway, Rachael realized.

Rachael had an idea.

*

She smelled the blood of the deer as it made its way through the dark forest.

The Moon was out, and full, showing through some of the trees.

Rachael found that she could see in total darkness, as she tried to stalk the deer.

Snap!

“No!” she hissed.

The deer, suddenly spooked, turned away from her and ran at a gallop.

She ran after it.

To her surprise, she was able to run and avoid all of the tree limbs, just like the deer.

And she began to catch the deer.

It turned its head and lowered its antlers.

It charged her.

Rachael leapt up into a tree so fast that the world was a momentary blur.

And she was gasping for air.

She needed blood, so she leapt down and bit into the back of the deer.

The creature cried and bucked.

Rachael grabbed it and held on so hard she heard its bones break.

She grimaced at the dying noises that it made.

Rachael had killed her first animal, and not a crawling unclean insect or spider, or flying bug.

She prayed to God for forgiveness, then drank its blood greedily.

Lying back, she was satiated.

Licking the tasty blood off her now plump lips, she decided that she had to figure out a way to eat this animal.

Or at least cut up some meat for the daytime.

It was then that she realized that she wasn’t alone here.

Or the only one interested in the meat of her kill.

Rachael saw their shapes in the dark wood.

Wolves…

All around her now.

They growled at her.

Remembering last night, Rachael growled back.

It came out as more of a growling hiss.

Looking around for a weapon, she saw a sturdy looking branch.

Rachael grabbed at it.

It cracked a little, but stayed on the tree.

Scared and a bit frustrated now, she pulled harder.

The branch broke off in her hand.

Now she had a club to wield.

To everyone’s surprise, the tree fell toward her with a mighty crash.

Rachael leapt up into another tree.

As she did so, she stepped on a wolf’s head with a bone-jarring crunch.

She hit the wolf so hard that it went face down in the dirt with a whelp.

Up in the safety of a tree, she saw that she had crushed the wolf’s head into the dirt.

The wolf didn’t move.

The other wolves slowly backed off of her, sniffing the dead wolf and the dead deer.

“There’s plenty,” she said, “I can’t eat that much!”

The wolves began to settle down as she watched them devour her exsanguinated kill.

It occurred to Rachael that once the wolves were done, there was just enough meat left for her.

She roared in excitement.

The wolves howled and then ran off.

Sniffing around, Rachael realized that the wolves weren’t laying in wait for her.

She dropped from the tree.

“Ow! Ow! Ow!” she cried hitting branches on the way down.

She felt the bruises and cuts, especially the one oozing blood on her cheek.

She wiped her hand on her cut, and sniffing it, licked her fingers clean of her own blood.

Then she pulled out her knife that her father had given her and cut up some of the meat reaming on the carcass.

“It’s not kosher,” she said, “Lord, please forgive me.”

Satisfied, Rachael also realized that the meat would spoil if she didn’t cook it right away. Mama had taught her that.

But how? She wondered.

Her father had described to her how to dig a pit, line it with stones and then wood.

For a makeshift fireplace.

Rachael had helped Mama smoke some of the meat, drying it over the fire. It lasted longer that way.

She touched her cheek, suddenly noticing that it had stopped bleeding on its own.

Odd.

And it stopped hurting.

All of her cuts and bruises stopped hurting.

Am I dying?

Rachael smiled as she heard her Mama’s voice in her head. Should I be so lucky…?

Papa had shown her how to use the tinder box that he had given her.

Soon, Rachael had a small fire going.

She felt so much better now.

Except for feeling lonely.

And dirty.

So dirty, yuck.

She decided that she would dry the meat for a little longer and then make her way south.

Rachael wondered how fast she could run at night.

*

Rachael decided to test that.

She removed her boots, and what was left of her socks, throwing them into her backpack.

Rachael sighed.

The cool grass by the road felt good on her feet.

“Ow!” she said.

Except for the rocks…

She looked at the cut at the bottom of her dirty foot.

Rachael’s eyes widened as she saw the cut heal instantly.

Rachael took a breath.

Remembering how out of breath she was when she avoided that tree earlier, she decided to try hold her breath as she ran.

Rachael began running.

Faster.

And faster.

And faster yet.

The world had just begun to look a bit blurry to her.

Then Rachael fell to her knees.

“Ow!” she said, her left knee connecting painfully with a rock.

Rachael rolled over onto her back, breathless.

She looked back to where she had started, and it seemed so far away!

Had she run that fast?

Recovering her breath, Rachael held her skinned knee upwards into the night air, and watched it heal instantly.

She sat up.

Dawn couldn’t be too far away, Rachael reckoned.

Now, she thought, Now how do I breathe, running that fast? Lord, a little help, please?

Rachael smiled at the idea of God helping her to breathe while running.

Rachael got back to her feet, and gathering her wits and belongings, she began to run.

Faster.

And faster still.

Rachael ran through the pains of the stones cutting her feet, of sore muscles.

All pain left her as she ran.

The world was a blur to her now.

Rachael glanced back as she ran, seeing the wind, her wind, blowing the grass and the greenery by the road’s edge.

Delighted, Rachael smiled, and tucking her head down a bit, ran as hard and as fast as she could.

She stumbled and fell when dawn came.

And to Rachael’s annoyance, her cuts and soreness didn’t heal up.

“Only at night then,” she said.

She stopped to put her shoes and a fresh pair of socks on, and noticed that her pants were torn in a few places.

Rachael sighed and looked for a place to hide.

“Moving at night is better for me,” she realized.

Papa had dressed his daughter like a boy, much to his and Mama’s chagrin. But both knew Papa was right, no matter how scandalous it was.

Boy’s clothes were more practical for this kind of situation.

After a meal of dried venison, and a nap, Rachael decided it was time to find a stream.

For bathing and for drinking.

*

After filling her water skin, and a having a bath in that awfully cold stream, Rachael had spent the rest of the day sewing up her socks and pants as best she could with the needle and thread Mama had given her.

Rachael began to look forward to night again, when all of her aches and bruises would magically go away.

Maybe this curse wasn’t all bad… she decided.

She noticed that it was a lot hillier where she was now.

This must be a good sign…

Her parents had warned her about the hill folk, that they may not be friendly to her, especially a Jew.

But Rachael had hoped that the witches, if there were any, at Babia Gora, might accept her, at least.

Who else would accept a blood sucking monster of the night like her?

Rachael began to cry, and then she railed against her God for doing this to her.

She wanted to know why she deserved this fate.

She was cursed at birth.

For no other reason than her parents, her real parents, had condemned a witch to death.

Her mother had died in childbirth, and her father had banished her from his sight.

Why Mama and Papa had taken the cursed baby in, Rachael could not understand.

No, Rachael decided, her real parents were her Mama and Papa.

Still, Rachael wished she could meet her real parents, to know them. To understand why her father had turned her away.

Well, Rachael reasoned through the tears, I was cursed…. And my mother died bearing me.

Could Father have feared that I would kill him, too?

Was he even alive now?

Rachael had no answers, and doubted that her answers lay on the Witches’ Mountain.

But maybe a cure does…

So, after a meal of dried venison, she decided to nap.

When she awoke, the Moon was sailing through the clouds.

Shadows danced all around her.

Rachael was a monster again.

Sighing, she sat up.

She could hear farther, smell farther, and see better in the dark than anyone she ever knew.

Including herself, come daylight.

And run faster.

So Rachael removed her shoes and socks, and stashing them in her backpack, she started to run down the road.

She ignored the pains of stones as twigs as she ran barefoot.

Hungry, for blood, little Rachael began to sniff as she ran.

A scent caught her attention.

Like a cow, but different.

She stopped, wary.

On edge.

She didn’t know what it was until it came out of the woods.

It was a huge bull.

And it looked at her with a snort.

With a bellow, it lowered its great horns her way and charged!

She panicked, leaping upwards onto a tree branch.

As the animal passed under her, she lost her balance…

And fell, catching herself on the side of the tree.

Upside down!

And, like an insect, Rachael stayed fast to the tree.

The massive animal, clearly an aurochs bull, looked up at her snorting.

Rachael was afraid.

She wanted to calm the great beast.

“Please, calm down,” she said, focusing her mental efforts at the great beast.

After a few moments, Rachael felt warmth in her eyes.

Not like the Change, as she had come to call it, when she became a monster at sunset.

This was different.

The great beast silently stared up at her.

Its snorting softened as it breathes grew slower.

Rachael felt a connection with the beast.

“Stay put,” she said, “Stay put.” Rachael imagined the beast not moving, but still looking up.

She quickly scampered around the far side of the tree from the aurochs.

Finding a way down the tree that involved hitting no branches, Rachael let herself fall.

Her feet moved away from the tree, and passed under her, so that she was upright as she…

Ow! She thought, her head bouncing off the tree trunk with a thud.

The beast snorted as she landed on the ground.

With her feet, then falling to her butt.

Rachael sensed the great beast coming around the tree towards her.

She fought a wave of panic, and stayed very still.

The beast came over to her and sniffed her.

She stared it in the eyes, imagining it falling asleep.

The warmth returned to her eyes.

To Rachael’s surprise, and then delight, the great beast lay down on the forest floor and slept.

She dared to move a little.

The aurochs, many times her size, didn’t react.

So she moved again.

The smell of its delicious blood overcame her.

Her head cocked back, and she hissed as her eyes felt hot and her fangs came out.

She moved over to the sleeping beast and seeing blood vessels on the animal’s flank dilate.

Rachael sank her fangs into one of those vessels.

The aurochs stirred, scaring her.

She drank her fill of blood.

Withdrawing, she saw the two puncture marks she had left.

Thanking the beast, she patted it near its wound.

Full of energy now, Rachael readjusted her back pack and left the forest.

Dawn isn’t too far away, and I lost a lot of time with that beast…

Soon, young Rachael was running down the lane faster than any person ever could.

Rachael had somehow found the key to breathing at this speed.

She just had to breathe normally.

Rachael ran by a small far so fast that the dogs there barely had time to bark before she was out of their reach.

Another farmstead sped by her as she ran in the night.

Rachael dashed into some woods as she felt dawn was approaching.

She found a nice quiet spot on a hill by a brook.

The top of the hill had a small depression at its crown.

A good place to hide for the day, Rachael reasoned.

Once comfortable, there, she chewed on some of her venison.

Not much left, she thought.

Reciting lessons from the Torah, she fell asleep there.

Rachael awoke to the sounds of dogs barking.

She quickly became panicked at that.

“They smell me,” she muttered.

Then she remembered what she had done to the aurochs.

But that was at night… she thought.

*

That night, Rachael ran through the woods for a while.

It was slower, but she feared being seen.

Somehow, she dodged the branches as she ran, as she had seen deer do.

During the day, Rachael swore that she hit about very branch in the forest.

Hearing wolves howling in the distance, she made for the road.

At least there I may be able to outrun them… she reasoned.

She was hungry, and needed to feed.

On blood.

Rachael stopped running, gasping for air as she re-entered the forest.

“I smell blood,” she whispered.

A little while later, she was exsanguinating a grouse, no mean feat she found.

Dawn was near, but, luckily, no villages were near her.

She found a quiet spot by a brook, and with the use of her flint and tinder, she dried her grouse.

Hungry, she ate a few pieces of grouse, and of her venison.

She drank from her water skin.

Once, Rachael had deboned the grouse, as best she could, and dried the meat over the fire, she let the fire die down as she moved on.

When night fell, she had the feeling that she was being watched.

Rachael saw the dark shapes around her in the woods.

She smelled them, too.

“Wolves,” she spat.

Looking upwards, she leapt up into a tree.

The branch she landed on fell to the forest floor with a crash, startling the wolves.

She remained stuck to the side of the tree, her feet pointing at the ground

There she stayed until the dawn, when the wolves seemed nowhere to be found.

*

After a quick meal on another branch of the tree, Rachael carefully climbed down the tree.

Losing her balance, she wound up landing on her butt.

And her butt wouldn’t heal until sunset.

Rachael sighed at that thought of spending the day with a sore backside.

Spooked a bit by the wolves, she made for the road.

She decided to risk walking on the side of the road, in the open.

Rachael walked along, carefully looking and listening to her surroundings as she walked.

The air was a bit cooler today, and she felt really tired.

Rachael was surprised when her ears popped.

Popping her ears back, she wondered why they had done that.

Looking around a bit, Rachael saw that the road was quickly climbing upwards, and the terrain was a lot hillier than it had been before.

Up over the top of a rise, Rachael lay down in the grass by the road.

Looking a bit ahead, the road dipped a little and then climbed to an even higher point.

Happily, she saw no one.

And no one, she hoped, saw her.

Looking up from the road, she saw them.

The mountains loomed before her now.

She wondered which one was the Witches’ Mountain, Babia Gora.

To her surprise, she awoke with the heat of the sun burning her neck.

“I fell asleep…” she muttered to herself.

Moving she realized that she hurt in a number of spots.

Most especially on the back of her neck her ears and her now-pink arms.

“Sunburn, you fool,” she muttered.

Grunting, she made for the forest.

*

That night, Rachael made her way south along the road.

Passing a pond, she stopped for a moment to fill her water skin.

Seeing her reflection briefly, Rachael had an idea.

Once she was done filling her water skin, she looked back at the water.

Rachael peered down at her own image.

“Sleep for 10 minutes,” she commanded herself.

She felt that warmth in her eyes again, as she had with the aurochs.

To her awe, she saw gold rings begin to glow around her pupils, reflected in the still water.

They began to spin…

Rachael awoke with a start.

“Did I fall asleep?” she asked herself, quickly sitting up.

Then it she wondered. “Was it for just ten minutes?”

Rachael had no way of knowing that.

She thought about doing that again, so that she could see her eyes again.

“Wait, silly girl, think of a better command,” Rachael told herself.

She pondered it for a moment.

She looked down at her reflection in the pond and said, “Kiss my right hand.”

She felt the warmth in her eyes again, and the same glowing rings, too.

The rings began to spin…

Rachael reached down and kissed her right hand.

“Ow!” she said, realizing that she had just bitten her hand with her fangs.

She shook her head.

“Wow,” she said, despite the pain, “I can make people do things…”

Then she noticed that the bite marks on her hand didn’t heal right away.

“I don’t heal so fast from a vampire bite, at least not my own,” Rachael observed.

The wound left a short pair of parallel scrapes on the back of her hand.

*

She was following a narrow twisty trail through the forest as the Sun was lowering in the sky.

The shadows in the woods were long, now.

And to a twelve year old girl on her own, rather spooky.

“I wonder who made such a skinny, twisty trail.” Rachael muttered.

“Animals,” a woman’s voice said behind her.

With a yell, Rachael spun around, her knife in her hand.

She brandished the knife.

“Who said that?” Rachael asked.

A woman stepped on the trail.

“Relax, Child,” she said, eyeing Rachael’s knife, “I’m not going to kill you.”

“Papa says to not trust strangers,” Rachael said.

The woman smiled. She had long dark hair, pleated into braids, with dark eyes and a fair complexion.

Rachael apprised her, still not convinced of the woman’s benevolence.

The woman was dressed in a dark brown cloak, over a simple peasant’s work dress.

“Your Papa is a wise man, Child,” she said, “I am just wondering what brings a young girl like you into the woods.”

“I am going to Babia Gora,” Rachael said.

“The Witches’ Mountain? Why?”

Rachael restrained herself from blurting out the answer to a total stranger.

“Are you a witch?”

“I might be,” Rachael said.

The woman wasn’t entirely convinced. “There is something special about you. You may be a witch.”

“Who are you?” Rachael asked.

The woman smiled, “I am Ilona. You are?”

Rachael hesitated. “Rachael.”

The woman cocked an eyebrow. “A Jew?”

Rachael hesitated. “Yes…”

Looking around, she said, “It is getting late. If you want to, you can follow me to where I am going.”

Rachael hesitated.

“I won’t hurt you,” Ilona said, “I am meeting a friend at her home tonight. Much nicer than these woods. And the food is better, too.”

“I don’t know…” Rachael said.

Distracted by Ilona, Rachael suddenly closed her eyes and balled her fists.

It was sunset.

The Change had occurred.

Rachael waited for the warmth in her eyes to fade before she opened them again.

It was dark now.

“I know what you are, now, Child,” Ilona said, “Come with me. You will be safe.”

Ilona used her walking stick as she made her way past Rachael down the path.

“Come, Child,” she said, “It is not safe here. Even for you…”

Intrigued, Rachael followed Ilona at a distance.

The trail led away from the road, which did not make Rachael happy at all.

Still she followed, Ilona.

Soon, the woods began to clear.

At the edge of a clearing, Ilona stopped.

“Come, come, Child,” she said, “We are here.”

Rachael slowly approached Ilona, her senses alert.

She could hear the sounds of a woman fussing with her pots, speaking in a language that Rachael did not recognize.

She smelled the woman’s blood in her veins.

And the smell of delicious vegetables being cooked.

The smell of the food made Rachael, though hungry for blood, even hungrier.

Ilona stepped forward into the clearing.

Rachael stopped when she smelled the blood of a dog.

The dog growled at her and at Ilona.

“Relax, girl,” Ilona said, “It’s only Ilona. I have a friend coming, so behave.”

The woman that Rachael smelled and heard came to the door.

“By Perchta, get in here,” she said, “And bring your friend. There is trouble tonight.”

Rachael cautiously approached the hut, its entrance guarded by a large dog.

The dog looked at her, and sniffed at her.

Rachael relaxed, trying her best to not be afraid of the dog.

*

Rachael looked around, at the different witches and such.

Rachael realized that she was unsure if the men present should be called witches.

One, a young woman, seemed like a ghost.

It was a bit creepy.

Rachael quietly asked if the woman were dead.

Ilona laughed. “No, no, child. That is a Benandanta, a “Good Walker”. Her spirit leaves her body as she sleeps at home, far away. She is alive.”

Rachael was amazed.

“Let the Benandanta speak,” said Ilona.

Rachael merely sat by Ilona, quiet but observant.

Rachael tried to ignore the stares of the other witches as everyone sat and ate and drank.

Ilona translated for Rachael what the other witches said as the meeting went.

“It has come to our attention that both Perchta and Jezi have gone away now,” said the Benandanta, a young dark haired and dark eyed woman.

That caused a commotion.

Another witch, from the Black Forest Region, spoke up. “Our Fruilian friend has been through much this past year, ever since the Cruel Thursday of Abundance and the ensuing troubles. But she is right, Perchta has left our forests for parts unknown. Now you say Jezi has gone, too. Do you know where they have gone?”

“No,” the Benandanta said, “We have heard that Jezi left with a woman, said to have been a courtesan in Florence. The courtesan fled court intrigues, I am told. The Holy Inquisition had been looking for Jezi recently. The courtesan found Jezi somehow and the two fled north together.”

The witch from the Black Forest nodded. “It is true. Jezi headed north and disappeared with a mysterious woman.”

“Dark times are coming,” a witch from Serbia said, “There is a new Sultan, Selim, in Constantinople now. He will probably fight the Hungarians again. Worse, we have heard tell of two things. One, there is a new dark power rising in Wallachia. He is rumored to be a vampire, a day-walker. He is called Dracula…”

“Is he the Voivode, Vlad III Dracula, raised from the dead?” Ilona asked.

“He is said to be. There is also a new learning center of black magic, said to be led by ten scholars, called Scholomari. Nine teach,” the Serbian witch paused, “And the tenth is said to be given to the Devil, or some dark power, as an aide and in payment. Koshchey, the immortal wizard, is said to be among the nine. This Dracula is said to be there, too. As a student or one of the Scholomari teachers, I do not know.”

“A Voivode, or nobleman,” Ilona said, “Said to be the cruelest and darkest of them all, has returned as one of the living dead, a vampire. And to be learning dark magic. Most disturbing.”

“I have traveled from Armenia, and the thought of Koshchey teaching his dark knowledge is a truly disturbing thought,” said one male witch, “For those who do not know, Koshchey is a powerful and evil wizard. So powerful, he is said to have found a way to cheat Death itself. Somehow, with dark magic. We in the Caucasus know Koshchey all too well. And now you tell us that the cruel Vladimir, the Tepes, the Impaler, has returned as a daywalker. Most disturbing. We will have to consult with Baba Yaga and her allies.”

“At least the Inquisition hasn’t found us yet,” the Benandanta witch said, “I fear for us when they do. We remember what they did to the Albigensians, who were Christian. We are not, although we serve Christ. We have lost all contact with our friend in the Vatican. We fear that the Holy Inquisition has come for him at last.”

She produced a scroll. “We have a copy of the Malleus Maleficarum, the Hammer of the Witches. Our sources tell us that this has yet to be accepted as Church doctrine by Rome, but the Inquisition seems to be reading it, anyway. Rome will use it against us all.”

“Aye,” said a man with an odd accent, “They will try to, all the way to Wales, or even further, over to Ireland.”

Ilona leaned over and whispered to Rachael. “He is our representative from Wales, near England.”

Rachael nodded.

“Ilona,” said the Serbian witch, “Is this a new witch in our midst? Please tell us who she is.”

Ilona sighed. “Her name is Rachael. She is a day walker. From Poland…”

That caused quite a stir.

“Yes,” Ilona said, talking through the stir, “She has come to us for answers.”

“Answers? A day walker?” one witch asked.

Ilona said, “She has come to us for answers. Rachael is a Jew. She doesn’t understand vampires the way we do.”

“We must keep her from Dracula and the Scholomancy,” the Serbian witch said, “Were you outcast, child?”

Ilona translated for Rachael.

Rachael nodded as she listened to Ilona, then paused for a moment to gather her wits.

“My parents helped me flee,” Rachael said, tears welling up in her eyes, “Papa, my Papa, feared that if the Christians knew of me, they would kill me. And all of us Jews in the Jewish Quarter.”

Ilona translated that for some of the witches.

“I just want to go home. I don’t want to serve this… this Dracula, or any evil power,” Rachael said, the tears beginning to stream down her cheeks, “But I can’t go home until I learn to hide and control this, this monster that I become after sunset. And before sunrise… Papa is right, the Christians will kill us all if they know about me.”

Ilona put her arm around the sobbing Rachael.

In this arena, Rachael had a lot of sympathy.

Her tears needed no translation, even as her words were translated amongst the witches.

There was much discussion, along with a lot of sympathetic looks, as Rachael took her seat. Ilona held her quietly as Rachael sobbed.

Ilona quietly translated for Rachael. “The covens are very sympathetic to your plight. None of us want to see you or your family killed, and none of us want you to become a vassal to this Dracula.”

“Are you an Estrie, young Rachael?” Ilona asked.

“Oh no,” Rachael said, “Mama told me of them. I was cursed before birth by some witch. My mother died giving birth to me, and my father abandoned me out, well, of fear, I guess. I was dropped off at my Mama and Papa’s home in Krakow, in a basket, swaddled in a blanket. They took me in, and raised me, knowing that I was a cursed baby. I don’t know what I am…”

“Well,” said the Benandanta, in German, “You are a vampire, Child. A day walker.”

“What does that mean?” Rachael asked, “A day walker?”

“Some vampires, Child,” The Benandanta said, “Are burned by daylight. Others can walk in it without dying.”

“I did get a sunburn,” Rachael said.

“No, no, Child,” the Benandanta said, with an amused smile, “Some vampires burn up. Burn like logs on a fire, in daylight.”

“Oh, that’s horrible! I don’t to that,” Rachael said.

“Hence,” Ilona said, “You are a day walker.”

“It is a terrible sight to behold,” the witch from the Black Forest said, “But as all vampires are evil, it is lucky for us that they do.”

Rachael was taken aback as Ilona translated that comment.

“Not all,” Ilona said, “We have the chance to keep a vampire on the good path. Rachael here is no evil monster. Just a lost child. Cursed by one of our evil sisters.”

“Who?”

“I do not know,” Rachael said.

“I will bless her,” Ilona said.

This caused a lot of discussion around the group.

“They say that blessing you will be a good thing, young Rachael,” the Benandanta said.

Rachael nodded.

*

All chaos had broken out.

The witches had been attacked by their darker brothers and sisters.

Ilona ran with Rachael trying to defend her from the evil witches.

“Run little witch, run!” Ilona yelled.