"That was the last of Rossi's letters, probably the last he had written his friend. Sitting beside Helen on the bus back to Budapest, I refolded the pages with care and took her hand for just a second. 'Helen,' I said hesitantly, because I felt one of us, at least, must say it aloud. 'You are descended from Vlad Dracula.' She looked at me, and then out the bus window, and I thought I saw on her face that she herself did not know how to feel about this, but that it made all the blood in her veins suddenly writhe and coil."
"When Helen and I stepped off the bus in Budapest, it was nearly evening already, but I realized with a feeling of shock that we had left this bus station the same day, that very morning. I felt I had lived a couple of years since that moment. Rossi's letters rested safely in my briefcase and their contents filled my head with poignant images; I could see a reflection of them in Helen's eyes, too. She kept one hand tucked around my arm, as if the revelations of the day had shaken her confidence. I wanted to put my whole arm around her, to embrace and kiss her in the street, to tell her I would never leave her and that Rossi never should have - never should have left her mother, that is. I contented myself with pressing her hand firmly to my side, and letting her guide us back to the hotel.
"At the moment we reached the lobby, I had again the feeling that we'd been away a long time - how strange it was that these unfamiliar places were starting to seem familiar to me within a couple of days, I thought. There was a note for Helen from her aunt, which she read eagerly. 'I thought so. She wants us to have dinner with her this evening, here in the hotel. She will tell us her good-byes then, I suppose.'
"'Will you tell her?'
"'About the letters? Probably. I always tell ?va everything, sooner or later.' I wondered if she had told her anything about me that I did not know, and suppressed the idea.
"We had scant time to wash and dress in our rooms before supper - I changed into the cleaner of two dirty shirts and shaved over the elaborate basin - and when I came downstairs again ?va was already there, although Helen was not. ?va stood at the front window, her back to me, her face toward the street and the fading evening light. Seen this way she had less of the formidable alertness and intensity of her public demeanor; her back in its dark green jacket was relaxed, even a little stooped. Turning suddenly, she saved me the trouble of deciding whether or not to call out to her, and I saw worry in her face before her wonderful smile dawned in my direction. She hurried forward to shake my hand, I to kiss hers. We did not exchange a word, but for all that we could have been old friends meeting after a separation of months or years.
"A moment later Helen appeared, to my relief, and she translated us into the dining room, with its glossy white cloths and ugly china. Aunt ?va ordered for all of us, as before, and I sat back, tired, while they spoke together for a few minutes. They seemed at first to be exchanging affectionate jokes, but soon ?va's face clouded and I saw her pick up her fork and twirl it somberly between thumb and forefinger. Then she whispered something to Helen that made Helen's brow knit, too.
"'What's wrong?' I asked uneasily. I had already had my fill of secrets and mysteries.
"'My aunt has made a discovery.' Helen lowered her voice, although few of the diners around us could have known English. 'Something that may be unpleasant for us.'
"'What?'
"?va nodded and spoke again, again very quietly, and Helen's brow furrowed deep. 'This is bad,' she said in a whisper. 'My aunt has been questioned about you - about us. She told me she received a visit this afternoon from a police detective whom she has known for a long time. He apologized and said it was only their routine, but he interrogated her about your presence in Hungary, your interests, and our - our relationship. My aunt is very clever in these matters, and when she questioned him in return, he managed to reveal that he had been - how do you say? - put on the case by G¨¦za J¨®zsef.' Her voice dropped to an almost inaudible murmur.
"'G¨¦za!' I stared at her.
"'I told you he is a nuisance. He tried to question me at the conference, too, but I ignored him. Apparently that made him angrier than I had guessed.' She paused. 'My aunt says he is a member of the secret police and can be quite dangerous to us. They do not like the liberal reforms of the government and are trying to keep the old ways.'
"Something in her tone made me ask, 'Did you already know this? What his position is?'
"She nodded guiltily. 'I'll tell you about it later.'
"I wasn't sure how much I wanted to know, but the idea of our being pursued by the handsome giant was certainly distasteful to me. 'What does he want?'
"'He apparently feels you are involved in more than historical research. He believes you have come here looking for something else.'
"'He's right,' I pointed out in a low voice.
"'He is determined to find out what it is. I am sure he knows where we went today - I hope he will not question my mother, too. My aunt turned the detective away from the - the scent as well as she could, but now she is worried.'
"'Does your aunt know what - whom - I'm looking for?'
"Helen was silent for a moment, and when she raised her eyes there was something like a plea in them.
"'Yes. I thought she might be able to help us somehow.'
"'Does she have any advice?'
"'She only says it's a good thing we are leaving Hungary tomorrow. She warned us not to talk with any strangers as we depart.'
"'Of course,' I said angrily. 'Maybe J¨®zsef would like to study Dracula documents with us at the airport.'
"'Please.' Her voice was a bare whisper. 'Don't joke about this, Paul. It can be very serious. If I ever want to return here - '
"I subsided into a shamed silence. I hadn't meant it as a joke, only as an expression of exasperation. The waiter was bringing dessert - pastries and coffee that Aunt ?va urged on us with motherly concern, as if by fattening us a little she could guard us from the world's evils. While we ate, Helen told her aunt about Rossi's letters, and ?va nodded slowly, attentive, but said nothing.
When our cups were empty, she turned deliberately to me, and Helen translated with downcast eyes.
"'My dear young man,' ?va said, pressing my hand just as her sister had done earlier in the day. 'I do not know if we will ever see each other again, but it is my hope that we will. In the meantime, look after my beloved niece, or at least let her look after you' - she gave Helen a sly glance, which Helen apparently pretended not to see - 'and be certain that you both return safely to your studies. Helen has told me about your mission, and it is a worthy one, but if you do not accomplish it soon, you must return home with the knowledge that you did everything that you could. Then you must go on with your life, my friend, because you are young and it is in front of you.' She patted her lips with her napkin and rose. At the door to the hotel she silently embraced Helen and leaned forward to kiss me on each cheek. She was grave, and no tears glistened in her eyes, but I saw on her face a deep, still sorrow. The elegant car was waiting. My last glimpse of her was her sober wave from its back window.
"For a few seconds, Helen seemed unable to speak. She turned toward me, turned away. Then she rallied and looked at me decisively. 'Come, Paul. This is our final hour of freedom in Budapest. Tomorrow we will have to hurry to the airport. I want to go for a walk.'
"'A walk?' I said. 'What about the secret police and their interest in me?' "'They want to know what you know, not to stab you in a dark alley. And don't be vain,' she said, smiling. 'They are just as interested in me as in you.
We will stay in well-lit places, along the main street, but I wish you to see the city one more time.' "I was glad enough to do this, knowing it might be my last view of it in a lifetime, and we went out again into the balmy night. We wandered toward the river, staying, as Helen had promised, on the main thoroughfares. At the great bridge we paused, and then she strolled onto it, running one hand thoughtfully along the railings. Above the vast water we paused again, looking back and forth at the two sides of Budapest, and I felt again its majesty and the explosion of war that had nearly destroyed it. The lights of the city shone everywhere, quivering in the black surface of the water. Helen stood for a while at the railing, then turned, as if reluctantly, to walk back toward Pest. She had taken off her jacket, and when she turned I saw a jagged shape on the back of her blouse. Leaning closer, I suddenly realized it was an enormous spider. It had spun a web all the way across her back; I could clearly see the glinting filaments. I remembered then that I'd seen cobwebs all along the bridge railing, where she'd been running her hand. 'Helen,' I said softly. 'Don't get upset - there's something on your back.'
"'What?' She froze.
"'I'm going to brush it off,' I said gently. 'It's just a spider.'
"A shudder went through her, but she stood obediently motionless while I flicked the creature off her back. I admit that it gave me a shudder, too, because the spider was the largest I'd ever seen, almost half the width of my hand. It hit the railing next to us with an audible thwack and Helen screamed. I'd never heard her express fear before, and that little scream made me suddenly want to grab her and shake her, even hit her. 'It's all right,' I said quickly, taking her by the arm, trying to stay calm. To my surprise, she gave a sob or two before she could steady herself. It astonished me that a woman who could shoot at vampires was so shaken by a spider, but this had been a long day and a strained one. She surprised me again by turning to look at the river and saying in a low voice, 'I promised I would tell you about G¨¦za.'
"'You don't have to tell me anything.' I hoped I didn't sound irritable.
"'I don't want to lie by silence.' She walked a few feet away, as if to leave the spider completely behind, although it had vanished, probably into the Danube. 'When I was a university student, I was in love with him for a little while, or thought I was, and in return he helped my aunt to get me my fellowship and passport to leave Hungary.'
"I recoiled, staring at her.
"'Oh, it wasn't so crude,' she said. 'He did not say, "You sleep with me and then you can go to England." He is actually rather subtle. He did not get everything he wanted from me, either. But by the time I was no longer charmed with him, I had my passport in my hand. That was how it happened, and when I realized it, I already had a ticket to freedom, to the West, and I was not willing to give it up. And I thought it was worth it to find my father. So I played along with G¨¦za until I could escape to London, and then I left him a letter breaking my ties with him. I wanted to be honest about that, at least. He must have been very angry, but he never wrote me.'
"'And how did you know he was with the secret police?'
"She laughed. 'He was too vain to keep it to himself. He wanted to impress me. I did not tell him that I was more frightened than impressed, and more disgusted than frightened. He told me about people he had sent to jail, or had sent to be tortured, and implied that there was worse. It is impossible not to hate such a person, ultimately.'
"'I'm not glad to hear this, since he's interested in my movements,' I said.
'But I'm glad to know that's how you feel about him.'
"'What did you think?' she demanded. 'I've been trying to stay away from him from the minute we got here.'
"'But I sensed some complicated feeling in you when you saw him at the conference,' I admitted. 'I couldn't help thinking that perhaps you had loved him, or still loved him, something like that.'
"'No.' She shook her head, looking down at the dark current. 'I could not love an interrogator - a torturer - probably a murderer. And if I did not reject him for all this - in the past and even more now - there would be other things for which I would reject him.' She turned slightly in my direction, but without meeting my gaze. 'They are smaller things, but still very important. He is not kind. He does not know when to say something comforting and when to be silent. He does not really care about history. He does not have soft gray eyes or bushy eyebrows, or roll his sleeves up to the elbow.' I stared at her, and now she looked me full in the face with a kind of determined courage. 'In short, the biggest problem with him is that he is not you.'
"Her gaze was almost unreadable, but after a moment she began to smile, as if in spite of herself, as if fighting herself, and it was the beautiful smile of all the women in her family. I stared, an unbeliever still, and then I took her into my arms and kissed her passionately. 'What did you think?' she murmured, as soon as I could let her go for a second. 'What did you think?'
"We stood there for long minutes - it might have been an hour - and then she suddenly drew back with a groan and put her hand to her neck. 'What is it?' I asked quickly.
"She hesitated for a moment. 'My wound,' she said slowly. 'It has healed, but sometimes it hurts me for a moment. And just now I thought - what if I should not have touched you?'
"We stared at each other. 'Let me see it,' I said. 'Helen, let me see it.'
"Silently, she untied her scarf and lifted her chin in the light of the streetlamp. On the skin of her strong throat I saw two purple marks, nearly closed over. My fears receded a little; she had clearly not been bitten since the first attack. I leaned over and touched my lips to the spot.
"'Oh, Paul, don't!' she cried, starting back.
"'I don't care,' I said. 'I will heal it myself.' I searched her face, then. 'Or did that make it hurt?'
"'No, it was soothing,' she admitted, but she put her hand over the spot, almost protectively, and after a minute tied her scarf on again. I knew then that even if her contamination had been slight, I must watch her more carefully than ever. I fished in my pocket. 'We should have done this long ago. I want you to wear this.' It was one of the little crucifixes we'd brought from Saint Mary's Church at home. I fastened it around her neck, so that it hung discreetly below the scarf. She seemed to breathe a sigh of relief, touching it with her finger.
"'I am not a believer, you know, and I felt I was too much the scholar to - '
"'I know. But what about that time in Saint Mary's Church?'
"'Saint Mary's?' She frowned.
"'At home, near the university. When you came in to read Rossi's letters with me, you put some holy water on your forehead.'
She thought a minute. 'Yes, I did. But that was not belief. It was from a feeling of homesickness.'
"We walked slowly back over the bridge and along the dark streets without touching each other. I could still feel her arms twined around me.
"'Let me come to your room with you,' I whispered as we came in sight of the hotel.
"'Not here.' I thought her lips quivered. 'We are being watched.'
"I didn't repeat my request, and was glad for the distraction that awaited us at the front desk of the hotel. When I asked for my key, the clerk handed it over with a scrap of paper scrawled in German: Turgut had called and wanted me to call him back. Helen waited while I went through the ritual of begging for the phone and giving the guard a little incentive to help me - I had stooped low, in these last days here - and then I dialed hopelessly for a while until it rang far away. Turgut answered with a rumble and a quick switch to English. 'Paul, dear man! Thank the gods you have called. I have news for you - important news!'
"My heart leaped into my throat. 'Did you find - ' A map? The tomb? Rossi?
"'No, my friend, nothing so miraculous. But the letter Selim found has been translated and it is an astounding document. It was written by a monk of the Orthodox faith, in Istanbul, in 1477. Can you hear me?'
"'Yes, yes!' I shouted, so that the clerk glared at me and Helen looked anxious. 'Go on.'
"'In 1477. There is much more. I think it is important that you follow the information of this letter. I will show it to you when you get back tomorrow. Yes?'
"'Yes!' I shouted. 'But does the letter say they buried - him - in Istanbul?'
Helen was shaking her head, and I could read her thoughts - the line might be bugged.
"'I cannot tell, from the letter,' Turgut rumbled. 'I am still uncertain where he is buried, but it is not very likely that the tomb is here. I think you must prepare yourself for a new trip. You will probably need succor from the good aunt again, also.' Despite the static, I could hear a grim note in his voice.
"'A new trip? But where?'
"'To Bulgaria!' shouted Turgut, far away.
"I stared at Helen, the receiver slipping in my hand. 'Bulgaria?'"
Part Three
There was one great tomb more lordly than all the rest; huge it was, and nobly proportioned. On it was but one word, DRACULA.
- Bram Stoker, Dracula,1897