than beefsteak is to a sailor returning from a year at sea.”
I tried to stand, tried to exit the box, but my legs were still wobbly. “I must go to him.”
“You will do no such thing.”
“Am I a prisoner here?”
To this query, the dark man responded not at all. He simply rose and went to the door, pausing but briefly to say, “Rest,” before leaving the chamber. I then heard the door’s heavy lock engage. And I was alone.
When I finally stood up and got out of the box, I quietly went to the window, taking careful steps, and looked out. I did not recognize the countryside. There were mountains and rolling hills, nothing of the Ireland I was familiar with. I turned my gaze to the stars above and saw that the constellations were all wrong. I understood then that he had taken me to a distant place—where, exactly, I knew not.
* * *
I SLEPT AFTER THAT—for how long, I could not be certain. When I awoke, I was again in my box, the soil of my homeland comforting to me, its texture and scent welcoming. A peasant girl was in the room with me. I tried to speak to her, but she found my tongue unfamiliar. She just sat there, smiling at me nervously and pointing to a fresh basin of water on the table in the corner. Next to it was a note—
Refresh yourself, then join me in the dining room when you are ready. The girl is for you.
—D
* * *
? ? ?
THERE WAS a large four-poster bed in my room and lying atop it was the most beautiful gown I ever laid eyes upon. The royal blue fabric was soft to the touch, with a dark lace trim woven throughout in an intricate pattern. Next to the gown was a necklace with sparkling diamonds encircling a sizable red ruby. I could not even begin to calculate the worth of such a necklace, for the stones it displayed were larger than any I had ever seen or even could imagine existed.
The peasant girl just then approached me from behind, and I felt her untying the laces of my white funeral dress, now brown, grimy with dirt and blood. It dropped to the floor and was pushed aside. She undertook the tedious task of washing me with a cloth from the basin. When I was finally cleansed, she assisted me into the blue gown. It fit perfectly. I wished I had a mirror, a habit I had yet to break, but there was none available, not that it would matter. She reached for the diamond-and-ruby necklace and secured it around my neck, then took a step back to admire her handiwork. A smile inched over her lips, and she bowed gently. I thanked her, fully aware she did not comprehend a word, then made for the door. She stopped me before I could leave and held up her wrist. There was a series of tiny bites evident along her forearm, marks I knew all too well.
At the thought of her blood, a need grew within me, an urgency. I had hoped this sick desire had passed after all the death I left in my wake, but it came over me stronger than ever as I looked down upon this poor girl’s wrist, at the throbbing vein just beneath the surface of her skin. I would not take her, though; as I longed for a taste of her life, I could not take her.
I shook my head and turned away, pressing my hand to the door.
She understood this, and a look that mixed offense with relief crossed her face. She opened the door and led me down a narrow hallway, through a small octagonal chamber with no window to speak of, and into a large dining room. The dark man sat at the far end. A plate sat in front of him, but it was covered with years’ worth of dust. I could not help but wonder if this room had ever seen any use.
“You are stunning,” he said, gesturing to the empty chair at the opposite end of the table. “Please be seated.”
I crossed the room and sat down.
He