In 1346, a plague came up the Silk Road out of China. It swept through India and Persia, and finally into Europe, as well as spreading south into Arabia, Egypt and Africa. But it wasn't a disease in the traditional sense of the term.

Vampires. Specifically, Nosferatu.

According to the histories Master Tremane had me read about the Black Plague, the first people became aware of it was when an entire town in China vanished off the map in one night. Nobody paid attention to it at first, because this wasn't entirely unprecedented. With the country's large population and comparatively small percentage of magically talented individuals, China had always had an unusually bad problem with supernatural predators of all types. Because of this, the surrounding countries had always been extremely cautious about allowing border crossings by people traveling out of China at night, and of those bearing large cargo during the day.

But then news began to arrive that the problem was spreading west along the Silk Road at an alarming rate. This was a breed of vampire rarely seen outside of China and India, and they were much harder to deal with.

You see, there are several different types of vampire. Master Tremane made sure I studied up on all of them, since the odds were good that I’d have to deal with at least some of them during my career.

The most 'common' vampire - that is, the most widely known - is the so-called Noble (or European) vampire. These are beings with all of the classical, overly romanticized vampiric traits - the need to drink blood to survive, unusually pale skin, the ability to shape-shift into wolves, rats or bats (or, rarely, all three), unusual strength and speed, effective immortality and extreme resistance to injury, and so on.

Contrary to the stories, the Noble vampire does have a heartbeat (how else could the blood circulate through their bodies) and do cast shadows and reflections (they are solid matter, after all). The two I've met both liked garlic and had no problems eating it, let alone being near it. One of them attended Mass at a Catholic church every Sunday. The other attended both Friday night and Saturday morning services at his synagogue - so holy symbols honestly aren't an issue for them. They are, however, uncomfortable in direct sunlight, and it strips them of much of their strength, their shapeshifting, and most of their ability to heal from injuries.

Many Noble vampires are even accepted into communities and treated like normal people, as long as they're polite about their feeding. They are, after all, just normal people with extra abilities, a mild problem with sunlight, and the need for a strange dietary supplement. Also, communities don't fear their presence because they are effectively 'sterile' (for lack of a better term). They can only create another vampire through a complex ritual which requires the vampire-to-be to have high Anima potential and - perhaps most importantly - to be a willing participant. Otherwise, it does nothing.

Their population is small, and they like it that way, so there's little fear of them spreading. That's what Europe was used to. I should also note that they genuinely abhor the way they have been romanticized, and mostly just want to be left alone to pursue their individual careers and hobbies.

You know, like everybody else.

There are other types that I won't go into here because they aren't relevant to the conversation. Some of them are supremely bizarre, like the Nippon breed that separates its head from its body at night so the head can go hunting. Freaky.

The type of vampire that caused the Black Plague was one that had only very rarely been seen outside of China and India. Unlike the Noble vampire, this type - commonly referred to today as Nosferatu - are human only in the most technical sense. They don't have a heartbeat, are so emaciated as to appear almost skeletal, and are disturbingly fast and tough. They also have many of the 'traditional' vulnerabilities: Holy items will drive them off and burn them, their silver allergy can poison and even kill them, and daylight will cause them to spontaneously combust rather spectacularly.

But the very worst things about them are the two most devastating: Firstly, they have only a rudimentary intellect and little self-awareness. They operate mainly on two instincts...feed, and hide during the day. And they're very clever about both.

Secondly, under the right conditions they can reproduce extremely quickly.

Under ordinary circumstances, a Nosferatu's presence can be spotted by the signs Hollis told me about. A member of a family will become sick, the symptoms appearing much like pernicious anemia or tuberculosis - only coming on quickly and proceeding quickly. The victim of a Nosferatu attack will usually last three days or three nights of being fed on.

That's when one of three things happens. (The number three, incidentally, comes up a lot when dealing with the supernatural, as do five and seven. These are numbers of power.) If the victim has low or no Anima potential and are drained, they die. Twenty-four hours later, they're reborn as a Nosferatu and are out hunting.

If the victim has moderate or high Anima potential, there are two possible results. Whatever happens, their symptoms proceed into what appears to be something like hemorrhagic fever. I won't go into detail, but it can be pretty gruesome. That lasts two or three days beyond the feeding period, and they either survive and slowly recover, or die - and stay dead.

The Black Plague was not ordinary circumstances. It was a huge population of Nosferatu fighting for prey. Victims were fed upon and often drained in a single night, rising the next night as a newborn Nosferatu. The end result was, in retrospect, predictable.

Two became four. Four became eight. Eight became sixteen, sixteen became thirty-two, thirty-two became sixty-four...and the Black Plague spread faster than it could be contained or stopped.

In 1347, the first of the famous vampire hunting clans, the Belmonts, organized and went to work. They gathered spellcasters, holy men, scholars and soldiers alike, and in under a year there were no less than fifteen hunting clans hard at work.

By 1348, the number dead was estimated to be around 75 million people. Naturally, panic began to spread as quickly as the Plague. Whole towns were burned to the ground, citizens and all, when infection was even suspected. Noble vampires were rounded up and driven from their homes or killed, even though they had nothing at all to do with it.

Late October 1349 showed a marked decrease in the spread of the Plague. A lot of credit is due to the vampire hunters, who worked tirelessly to educate people, calm panic and - of course - eradicate the Nosferatu whenever and wherever they were found. But statistically speaking, a lot of it was probably due to the dwindling population of people with little or no Anima potential.

By August of 1350, the Black Plague was effectively over. In the end, the number of deaths was estimated to be around 150 million men, women and children. Nearly a third of the world's population (a number I still have trouble believing and find absolutely horrifying) wiped out in four years.

In the following years, most of the vampire hunting clans disbanded or dwindled away. Today, only a few of them still keep to the old ways and remained organized, standing vigilant against another such outbreak. To help them, spellcasters all over the world have been taught the ways of finding, identifying and eliminating vampires, especially Nosferatu. It was one of the most important duties that we fulfilled. But we're not perfect, and we can't be everywhere at once.

It was why when an actual outbreak occurred in Vinland in 1975, the entire town ended up being burned to the ground in a panic.

And it was why I was so ambivalent about having to look into a case potentially involving a Nosferatu by myself. This was, frankly, a serious public health threat and I had only the smallest amount of experience dealing with such things. But I knew when I started my apprenticeship that it was one of the heaviest responsibilities I would be expected to take on, and one I intended to live up to.

"Is all of this relevant somehow?" Athena asked carefully as our cab rounded a corner and approached a home near Chiswick Park.

I looked over at her, startled. "Um…I thought some history would…"

She smiled gently. "How about a quick briefing on what we should be looking for instead?"

"I thought it was pretty interesting," the cabby interjected.

Artemis yawned.

My cheeks flushed with embarrassment. I did have a way of rambling when I got started on a subject. "Sorry. Okay, Nosferatu…low animal intelligence, no real consciousness. Predatory behavior, they'll go for weak prey before strong, so children, the elderly and the infirm are usually their first targets. We'll be looking for small puncture-like injuries on the victim, and someplace close by where the thing could be hiding during the day - it'd need to stay out of direct sunlight."

Athena nodded.

"Oh, and there'll probably be a rotting smell where it's been hiding," I added as an afterthought.

"Lass," the cabby said earnestly over his shoulder, "Your job sucks. I dunno how many people say it, so I will…thank you kindly for your service to the community. We're here."

I paid the cabby as Athena and Artemis got out, giving him a large tip for his kind words, then watched the automobile - still a novelty to me - pull away from the curb and putter off down the street.

Steam-driven automobiles were extremely uncommon in Éire. It wasn't so much that there was no way to use them there as there was simply no serious market for them. For some reason - I blame the Druids - the vast majority of Éire's citizens had largely eschewed modern technology in favor of ‘traditional’ ways of living. Dublin was by far the most advanced city in the country, and even it had few buildings over five or six stories and most of its roads were unpaved. Seeing one automobile a day in Dublin was a lot. Seeing one in a week out in Killarney was almost unheard of until about a year ago.

Being in a place where automobiles were so common that one could be hired to take you wherever you wanted to go in the city for a reasonable amount of money, just by stepping to the curb and sticking out your hand as one approached, was still unusual to me even after several weeks. So I tended to behave like a tourist when riding in a cab...gawking at the sleek finish of the vehicle, listening to the contented chuff and hum of the engine, and sometimes asking more questions about how it worked than the cabby could possible have answered. Hollis found it amusing and assured me I'd get used to it before too much longer.

Standing on the curb, I turned to survey our destination.

It was a lovely little two story house with gabled windows on the second floor. Its lawn was well-groomed in preparation for winter, and the two trees in its front yard nearly barren of leaves. The windows had cozy-looking burgundy drapes visible inside them and matching shutters on the outside, blending comfortably into the brick. A matching brick path led up to a big natural oak front door.

"Come on," I said to the girls and set up off the walk, my staff clicking softly with every other step.

There was an old-fashioned bell-pull attached to a small brass bell that hung beside the door, which I took hold of and rung gently. After a moment, the front door opened to reveal a woman who appeared to be in her mid-forties. She had lustrous black hair in tight curls that fell to her shoulders, just showing the first signs of gray at her temples, and was wearing oval wire-framed glasses over clear green eyes that took me in with a glance.

"Yes?" She asked, her eyes moving to my staff, then to Athena and Artemis flanking me.

"My name is Alys Kinnear," I said quietly and politely. "I'm a Mage working for Wizard Hollis Ellister, and these are my familiars, Athena and Artemis. Rabbi Cohen asked us to look into events here."

Her eyes changed from wary to relieved in an instant. "Thank God," she breathed out. "Come in young lady, do come in. I'm Margaret Fisher."

She opened the door for me and stepped aside. As I walked through the door, I took a moment to reach up and lightly touch the Mezuzah affixed to the outside of the door frame. I could feel the gentle hum of power in it…warm, protective, and subtle. These were people of genuine faith, then, and the house would have a fairly solid threshold. Good to know.

Mrs. Fisher gave me a surprised look. "Are you Jewish, young lady? If you'll forgive me for saying so, you don't look it."

I smiled. "No, I'm not," I replied warmly. "But I've studied all of the major religions and try to be respectful of them."

That seemed to please her and put her at ease. "That's a wise outlook. Do come in, you and your familiars both, and be welcome. We're glad you've come."

"Thank you." I glanced around the living room the door had opened onto and found it cozy. The floor was lightly carpeted, there was a large fireplace on one wall, a sofa, chairs, coffee table, the usual. Pictures of the children were on every available bit of wall-space that wasn't taken up by other bits of artwork.

"My husband Joseph will be home in an hour or so," she went on. "Will you be joining us for dinner?"

I nodded, returning my attention to her, "And standing vigil tonight, if you'll have us."

"Gladly," she replied, her relief written large across her face and in her voice. "We're so afraid that little Jane has become...has become..."

I held up a hand to let her know she didn't have to say it. "I know, and I understand. I'm here to find out, and to help you deal with it if our fears are correct. How many children do you have?" There were an awful lot of pictures.

"Four," she replied, then corrected herself. "Three, now that Jane is gone." She sighed. "Billy - William - is the next youngest after her. He's thirteen. Then there's Rose, she's fifteen, and their oldest brother Phillip, who's seventeen."

"And Billy is the one who..." I trailed off, not sure how to put it delicately, or if I even needed to.

"Says he saw Jane?" She smiled hollowly. "Yes. It's all right to speak plainly with me, dear. I'll bear up."

I reached out and touched her arm lightly. "We'll get this straightened out, one way or another. Tonight, I'd like to have Athena stay in Billy's room while Artemis and I check the house and grounds, then we'll all stay in his room the rest of the night, with Athena and I alternating on...patrols, for lack of a better term."

"That would set my mind at ease," she replied with a nod.

"I'd like to speak with Billy before then, if I may," I said quietly. "I need to know what he's seen."

"Of course," she said. "Come with me, I'll show you to his room."

Billy's room was practically a stereotype of the pre-teen boy's room. Sports equipment, models, half-finished homework on an old roll-top desk, you name it. I was silently thankful that he (or, more likely, his mother) had cleaned up any dirty clothes that had been lying around before I arrived.

The boy himself was sitting propped up in bed with a book open on his blanket-covered lap. He looked up as we walked in, letting me get a good look at how pale and wan he was. His skin was a pasty, unhealthy-looking shade, and even his eyes - blue - seemed faded somehow. His short brown hair was rumpled, and his pajama shirt appeared to have Cricket bats printed on it.

"Billy," Mrs. Fisher said, "This young lady is Mage Alys Kinnear. She's here to talk to you about how you saw Jane."

He looked at me curiously, his eyes bright and intelligent in spite of showing his exhaustion clearly. The dark smudges under his eyes seemed to emphasize how faded he was. "Hello, Mage Kinnear."

I smiled. "Hi, Billy. It's nice to meet you."

"Thank you, ma'am," he replied quietly.

Ma'am? Ouch. Oh well, I was sort of an authority figure, after all.

His eyes bulged in amazement as Athena and Artemis entered behind me, which made me smile. "These are my familiars, Athena, and Artemis."

"Wow!" He said with obvious enthusiasm. The first real life he'd shown yet, and it seemed to relieve his mother somehow. "Are they snow leopards?"

"Yes, they are," I smiled. "Do you mind if we sit down and ask you a few questions?"

"No, ma'am."

I turned to Mrs. Fisher and smiled gently. "Would you be so kind as to put on some tea for us?"

She seemed to understand that I was trying to find an excuse to talk to Billy alone and nodded. "Of course. I'll be in the kitchen if you need anything."

"Thanks." I grabbed the desk chair and pulled it over so I could sit beside Billy's bed, while Artemis prowled around the room, sniffing here and there. Athena walked to the room's window and looked out of it.

"When did you first see your little sister, Billy?" I asked softly.

"About a week after her funeral," he replied just as softly. "I really missed her. She was always a pain, but when she was gone..." His eyes filled with tears.

I nodded gently. "It's all right, I understand. How did she look when you saw her after she died?"

"Well," he hesitated. "It looked like her, but she looked...I dunno...she looked thinner or something. And her skin was kind of a weird light gray color. She looked kinda sick, but I guess that kinda makes sense. But I thought she'd've gotten better after she died, you know?"

I nodded. "Yeah, I do. Can you tell me what happened?"

"It was a little after my bedtime, like around 8:30," he said. "I'd just finished getting ready for bed when something tapped against my window. It really scared me, you know? 'Cause my room's way off the ground. And when I looked over, she was looking in at me. Her eyes were weird...they were black. I know it should've scared me, 'cause it wasn't right, but I wasn't scared. I just wanted to open the window really badly, so I did and told her to come in."

Billy trailed off into silence, and after a moment I asked, "Then what, Billy?"

"I dunno," he shook his head. "Then nothing. I woke up the next morning. I guess it was a dream."

He sounded awfully uncertain.

"How long ago was that?" I asked.

"Three or four days ago," he said hesitantly. "I've kinda lost track of time."

I smiled gently. "Being sick will do that."

But three or four days? That was a little odd. By the third day, a Nosferatu victim was usually so ill they wouldn't even be able to talk, let alone sit up in bed, read, and gush over a young Mage's cool familiars. For it to have been drawn out this long, it meant one of two things: Either she wasn't a Nosferatu, but some other sort of nocturnal predator, which would make my life less stressful; or she was spreading her hunting around, in which case there would be more victims and a bigger problem than anticipated.

But all I said out loud was, "All right. Have you seen her again since?"

"Yeah," he said with a nod, "Two nights ago, I had the same dream again. Or whatever."

A day between feedings, then. That was pretty odd too, unless - as I had already considered - she was spreading her hunting around. If she kept to that schedule, that would make her third visit tonight. How convenient.

"Okay," I said. "And that's about when you got sick? After the first time?"

He nodded gravely, trying not to look upset and scared. "Yeah. Do you think I have the same thing she had? Am I gonna die?" His bottom lip quivered a little as he asked the question and his eyes filled with tears.

I gave him my most reassuring smile. "Not if Athena, Artemis and I have anything to say about it. Athena's going to stay here with you for now while Artemis and I go and have a look around. Then we'll be back, and at least one of us will be with you all night long."

The relief he felt was practically a tangible thing, and was painted across his face in broad strokes. He wiped away his unshed tears and smiled up at me shyly. "Thanks, Miss Kinnear." He hesitated. "Do you really think Jane's become a vampire or something?"

"I honestly don't know yet. That's what we're here to find out, Billy," I patted his arm gently. "But no matter what, we're also here to protect you and help you get better. Okay?"

He smiled and nodded. "Okay."

I rose and looked around. Athena was still peering out the window, and Artemis was sniffing around the base of the bed. >

> Athena said. >

> Artemis added. >

I blew out a breath. > Out loud, I said, "Athena, make yourself comfortable here. Billy, she's really friendly, so you go right ahead and talk to her."

Athena moved over and sat down where I'd been, smiling at him. "Hi, Billy." She held out her hand for him to shake.

He did so, looking at her with awe. "I've never met a familiar before. What's it like?"

Athena beamed at him, her radiant smile lighting up her whole face and causing him to smile in return. "It's about the greatest thing in the world, as far as I'm concerned," she said with a quick glance in my direction.

I smiled. "Come on, Artemis. Let's go have a look around."