Carpe Jugulum

behind the sofa, myself,” said Nanny. Oats looked away.
    There was a scream from somewhere on the battlements. The phoenix had spotted another vampire.
    “All over now bar sweeping up the dust, then,” said Nanny. “They didn’t seem very smart—”
    “The Count’s still here,” said Granny flatly.
    “Oh, I vote we just set fire to the place and go home,” said Nanny. “It’s not as though he’ll be coming back to Lancre in a hurry—”
    “There’th a crowd coming,” said Igor.
    “I can’t hear anything,” said Nanny.
    “I’ve got very good ear’th,” said Igor.
    “Ah, well, of course some of us don’t get to choose,” said Nanny.
    There was a clattering of footsteps across the bridge and people were suddenly swarming over the rubble.
    “Isn’t that Agnes?” said Nanny. Normally, there’d be no mistaking the figure advancing across the courtyard, but there was something about the walk, the way every foot thudded down as though the boots were not on speaking terms with the earth. And the arms, too, swung in a way—
    “I can’t be having with this!” Agnes shouted, marching up to Granny. “I can’t think straight. It’s you, isn’t it?”
    Granny reached out and touched the wounds on her neck.
    “Ah, I see,” she said. “One them bit you, yes?”
    “Yes! And somehow you spoke to me!”
    “Not me. That was something in your blood talkin’, I reckon,” said Granny. “Who’re all these people? Why’s that man trying to set fire to the wall?

Don’t he know stone don’t burn?”
    “Oh, that’s Claude, he’s a bit single-minded. Just let me know if he picks up a stake, will you? Look, they’re from Escrow, it’s a town not far away…the Magpyrs treated them like…well… pets. Farm animals! Just like they were trying to do back home!”
    “We ain’t leaving until we’ve dealt with the Count,” said Granny. “Otherwise he’ll be sneaking back—”
    “Er, excuse me,” said Oats, who seemed to have been thinking about something. “Excuse me, but did someone mention that the Queen was locked up in the crypt?”
    “Safe as houses,” said Nanny. “Huge thick door and you can bar it from the inside.”
    “How safe are houses from vampires?” said Oats.
    Granny’s head turned sharply. “What do you mean?”
    Oats took a step backward.
    “Ah, I know what he means,” said Nanny. “It’s all right, we’re not daft, she won’t open up until she’s knows it’s us—”
    “I meant, how does the door stop vampires?”
    “Stop them? It’s a door .”
    “So…they can’t turn themselves into some sort of mist, then?” said Oats, frying in the joint radiation of their stares. “Only I thought that vampires could, you see. I thought everyone knew that who knows anything about vampires…”
    Granny turned on Igor. “D’you know anything about this?”
    Igor’s mouth opened and shut a few times.
    “The old Count never did anything like that ,” he said.
    “Yes,” said Nanny, “But he played fair .”
    There was a rising howl from the depths of the castle, cut off suddenly.
    “That was Thcrapth!” said Igor, breaking into a run.
    “Thcraapthhh?” said Agnes, wrinkling her brow. Nanny grabbed her arm and dragged her after Igor.
    Granny swayed a little. Her eyes had an unfocused look.
    Oats glanced at her, made up his mind, staggered rather theatrically and sprawled in the dust.
    Granny blinked, shook her head and glared down at him.
    “Hah! All too much for you, eh?” she said hoarsely.
    Trembling fingers reached down for Oats. He took them, taking care not to pull, and stood up.
    “If you could just give me a hand,” he said, as her grateful weight hit his shoulder.
    “Right,” said Granny. “Now let’s find the kitchens.”
    “Huh? What do we want with the kitchens?”
    “After a night like this we could all do with a cup of tea,” said Granny.

Magrat leaned against the door as a second thump rattled the bolts. Beside her, Scraps started to growl. Perhaps it was something to do with his extensive surgery, but Scraps growled in half a dozen different pitches all at once.
    Then there was silence, which was even more terrifying than the thumping.
    A faint noise made her look down. A green smoke was pouring through the keyhole.
    It was thick, and had an oily quality…
    She darted across the room and snatched up a jar that had contained lemons so sportingly provided by the mysterious old Count that Igor thought so highly of. She