Carpe Jugulum

millions of years, oh, that sounds very boring to me.” She raised a hand to silence the crowd.
    “No. Fifty years to think about things, that’s about right. People need vampires,” she said. “They helps ’em remember what stakes and garlic are for.”
    She snapped her fingers at the crowd. “Come on, two of you take him down to the vaults. Show some respect for the dead—”
    “That’s not enough!” said Piotr, stepping forward. “Not after all he—”
    “Then when he comes back you deal with him yourself!” snapped Granny loudly. “Teach your children! Don’t trust the cannibal just ’cos he’s usin’ a knife and fork! And remember that vampires don’t go where they’re not invited!”
    They backed away. Granny relaxed a little.
    “This time round, it’s up to me. My…choice.” She leaned closer to the Count’s horrible grimace. “You tried to take my mind away from me,” she said, in a lower voice. “And that’s everything to me. Reflect on that. Try to learn .” She stood back. “Take him away.”
    She turned away, to the tall figure. “So…you’re the old master, are you?” she said.
    “Alison Weatherwax?” said the old master. “I have a good memory for necks.”
    Granny froze for a second.
    “What? No! Er…how do you know the name?”
    “Why, she passed through here, what, fifty years ago. We met briefly, and then she cut off my head and stuck a stake in my heart.” The Count sighed happily. “A very spirited woman. You’re a relative, I presume? I lose track of generations, I’m afraid.”
    “Granddaughter,” said Granny weakly.
    “There’s a phoenix outside the castle, Igor tells me…”
    “It’ll leave, I expect.”
    The Count nodded. “I’ve always rather liked them,” he said, wistfully. “There were so many of them when I was young. They made the nights…pretty. So pretty. Everything was so much simpler then…” His voice trailed off, and then came back louder. “But now, apparently, we’re in modern times .”
    “That’s what they say,” murmured Granny.
    “Well, madam, I’ve never taken too much notice of them. Fifty years later they never seem so modern as all that.” He shook the younger vampires like dolls. “I do apologize for my nephew’s behavior. Quite out of keeping for a vampire. Would you people from Escrow like to kill these two? It’s the least I could do.”
    “Ain’t they your relatives?” said Nanny Ogg, as the crowd surged forward.
    “Oh yes. But we’ve never been much of a species for playing happy families.”
    Vlad looked imploringly at Agnes, and reached out to her.
    “You wouldn’t let them kill me, would you? You wouldn’t let them do this to me? We could have…we might…you wouldn’t , would you?”
    The crowd hesitated. This sounded like an important plea. A hundred pairs of eyes stared at Agnes.
    She took his hand. I suppose we could work on him, said Perdita. But Agnes thought about Escrow, and the queues, and the children playing while they waited, and how evil might come animal sharp in the night, or grayly by day on a list…
    “Vlad,” she said gently, looking deep into his eyes, “I’d even hold their coats.”
    “A fine sentiment but that ain’t happenin’,” said Granny, behind her. “You take ’em away, Count. Teach ’em the old ways. Teach ’em stupidity.”
    The Count nodded, and grinned toothily.
    “Certainly. I shall teach them that to live you have to rise again—”
    “Hah! You don’t live , Count. The phoenix lives. You just don’t know you’re dead. Now get along with you!”
    There was another moment sliced out of time and then a flock of magpies rose up from where the three vampires had been, screaming and chattering, and disappeared in the darkness of the roof.
    “There’s hundreds of them!” said Agnes to Nanny.
    “Well, vampires can turn into things,” said Nanny. “Everyone knows that, who knows anything about vampires.”
    “And what do three hundred magpies mean?”
    “They mean it’s time to put covers on all the furniture,” said Nanny. “And that it’s time for me to have a very big drink.”
    The crowd began to break up, aware that the show was over.
    “Why didn’t she just let us wipe them out?” hissed Piotr by Agnes’s ear. “Death’s too good for them!”
    “Yes,” said Agnes.” I suppose that’s why she didn’t let them have it.”
    Oats hadn’t moved. He was still staring straight ahead of him, but his hands were