Vlad II (“Dracul”) and Vlad III (“Dracula”)
Stefan Lazarevic, Prince of Serbia
Henry V, King of England
Pope Eugene IV
Revival of order, 1598:
Rudolf II, Holy Roman Emperor (“Golem of Prague”)
Elizabeth I, Queen of England
John Dee, occult philosopher and royal adviser
Elizabeth Báthory, Blood Countess of Hungary
Possible second revival, current?
Unknown
14
OUR TAXI DROVE US AWAYfrom the painted cottage, down the lake’s dirt road, and toward the village center. I spent the first part of the ride in a haze, trying to come to grips with everything Lovena had told us. Fighting the urge to return to her. I still had a million and one questions. About Rothwild and the Order of the Dragon. About talking to my mother. About the talisman she gave us and my so-called old blood. Should I be worried or upset or delighted?
Why wouldn’t she tell me more?
Considering an ever-increasing range of possible answers to these questions made my chest buzz and my head spin. Which wasn’t good. With everything going on right now, I needed my head to stay firmly stationary.
“Focused!” I murmured, snapping my fingers.
“What?” Huck asked.
“Twelve across, seven letters, ‘head straight.’ F-O-C-U-S-E-D.”
“Banshee,” he said. “You’re the only person I know who does crossword puzzles in your head all day long.”
“Must be my old blood,” I said, feeling self-conscious and a little feverish at the same time.
“What does that even mean?” he whispered close to my ear, as if the taxi driver might hear and kick us out of the cab. “How did she know about your mother?”
“I don’t know,” I whispered back.
“All of this feels like one vast web of weirdness, and we’ve flown right into it like stupid insects,” he lamented. “You trust her?”
I did. I couldn’t explain why exactly. It was just a gut feeling, and my mother always said to pay attention to those. Oh, to talk to her again. Just the idea of it was... too much to hope for. Funny, but I think Mother would have liked Lovena. I held on to her coin around my neck, warming the metal with my fingers, and when Huck settled back in the seat next to me, I gave it a quick kiss.
Huck and I briefly talked about following our new lead to Lovena’s sister in Sighi?oara, but it wasn’t much of a discussion. Of course we were going. It was the best clue to my father’s whereabouts we’d had so far. Where else would we go?
Even so, we were both overwhelmed.
I was worried about my father. I was worried about Jean-Bernard.
I was worried for us.
It felt as if we were crossing over a threshold, going deeper into Romania, away from the Orient Express, away from Bucharest, and that once we committed to moving forward, there was no way back.
Our driver dropped us off at a tiny train platform near the village center, where we had to wake a snoozing ticket agent, who provided us with a printed train schedule. I asked the young man if he’d seen my father, giving him a name and physical description, but he just looked confused. “I only work three days a week,” he told me in Romanian, shrugging his shoulders.
