Dracula, Ergo, Terror!

  Chapter 3

  There wasn’t as much to the Transylvania airport as Ergo had expected. There were a few landing strips and docking bays leading to an anachronistically bizarre airport terminal, built entirely of wood and stone and resembling a large, flattened castle with steaming metal pipes protruding and a number of windmills on the roof. Flags flew magnificently above a large granite banner that proclaimed Transylvania International.

  Stepping from the shuttle, Ergo shivered, instantly aware of the biting cold and a sinister gray pall that hung moodily over the airport. Gone was warm California sunshine and instead was a stone cold quiet airport clenched in a sinister bone chill. The three travelers hurriedly made their way into the airport and arrived at a rickety wooden frame of customs, which consisted of a stern man in lederhosen and with a moustache, sitting in a rocking chair, beside a drug-detecting wombat.

  Angst was the last through, and as the inspector examined his papers, he stopped, looked up, studied the papers again, and then visibly paled. Nodding slightly to himself, he turned and reached for a tan envelope, stamped with a blood red wax seal. He handed it to Angst with a trembling hand. Ergo looked inquiringly at Angst, but the severe old man simply slid the envelope into his coat pocket and walked past the boy.

  Beyond the gate in the central section of the terminal there were a number of small stores, some with clothing, some with books, and one gift shop which seemed to be equipped with medieval weaponry.

  Strolling past these, the travelers encountered a small yet quaint Transylvanian diner, where they settled into wooden booths and examined handwritten menus with various incomprehensible local dishes. The air was thick with a steamy haze and the musty stench of heavily roasted something.

  A large woman with a head of elaborately braided black hair appeared through the fog and set three leather mugs of beer on the table. The two elders politely declined and requested coffee instead, while Ergo asked for a fizzy lemon drink with cherry flavoring. The flummoxed waitress gathered the drinks back again, shook her head, and departed for the kitchen.

  “Correct me if I’m wrong,” interjected Ergo, “but Transylvania ceased to exist long ago, and just became part of Romania…?”

  “What sort of bizarre history are they teaching at your school?” asked Henry. “Of course Transylvania exists. Sounds like your school is a messed-up place of distorted misinformation.”

  “You have no idea,” Ergo replied, then noticed a shelf with a local paper which he retrieved, a look of illumination on his face. “Take a look at this.” He pointed to a small article on the cover.

  LOCAL VILLAGER INVOLVED IN FATAL BAT ATTACK

  “I bet this has something to do with the vampire!” Ergo said loudly, but then noticed the cafe seemed to grow uncomfortably quiet. Even Henry and Angst both seemed to fidget, as though nervous. Ergo bunched his shoulders and lowered his voice.

  The waitress returned with two coffees and, surprisingly, a frosty glass filled with bubbly pink soda and a tiny plastic sword impaled through a bright red cherry. Except on closer inspection it wasn’t a sword but rather a tiny wooden stake. The waitress, in a huff, asked impatiently what they wanted to order. She scribbled each order with a hasty series of scratches on a notepad then left without a word.

  “Well, perhaps we can find this villager and get more information from him?” Ergo pointed to the newspaper headline again, but Henry shook his head.

  “Read the headline again, Ergo,” Henry said. “This villager was involved in a fatal attack. It was fatal, and he was involved. Therefore, he’s dead.”

  “Well, I’m not so sure,” Angst said “His involvement doesn’t necessarily imply the fatality included him.”

  “But if he was involved in an attack that was fatal, then the logical conclusion would be that, since the attack was a fatal one, to be involved in it would mean his involvement meant his death.”

  “I think there’s a misplaced modifier used in the story…” continued Henry, and Ergo, having tuned out this ridiculous bit of dialogue, walked about the cafe and studied some of the decorations on the walls.

  Included with various items such as hats, farm equipment, and weapons were also several grainy, black and white photographs in battered wooden frames hanging crookedly on the walls. Most of the pictures were of people but some were landscapes. Notable in each picture was the inclusion of a tall, shadowy castle that lingered menacingly in the background. Always the same, it appeared to be the central fixture. Ergo stopped the waitress as she passed by and inquired about the castle. She paled.

  “Vy vuld you vant to know about ze castle?” she whispered, looking around nervously.

  “Uh, no reason, really. Just, ah, curious who dwells there. Must be someone really rich!” Ergo laughed uneasily. The laugh was not shared by the waitress.

  She glanced around again and said, in a voice that was much softer and more menacing, “Zat is ze castle of Count Frederick. Ve do not speak about…” The waitress caught the appearance of a shadowy figure standing in the doorway to the kitchen then turned, dismissed Ergo with a wave, and returned to serving tables.

  Ergo slouched back to his seat and quietly finished his schnitzel while his companions continued their banter over grammatical ambiguities.