Chapter III: Lilian Again
Lilian came down the stairs, slowly, as if descending the stairs represented facing his rather bleak future. He had dressed in "comfort" clothes after waking – his old jeans and a baggy sweatshirt from a previous trip that read:
Gdansk?
Why, are you asking?
The jeans were old and worn and possibly too tight, and the cheap dye in the sweatshirt had faded from red to a fairly even pink after several washings. He had no clean socks and so his ankles showed between the top of his runners and the hem of his pants. But these clothes helped him to feel miserable so he was wearing them.
Maria checked the clock as Lilian found his way to a table at the back. "It is past noon," she called across the empty dining room. "I wondered if I should wake you. I know you had an important meeting this morning. I hope you did not miss it."
"No, but thank you for asking, Maria," Lilian replied, putting on a smile. "My meeting has been postponed. I need to set another date, some time next..." Lilian's voice trailed off as he realized, he didn't have the heart for more lies. His eyes glistened, and Lilian held back tears as he was suddenly compelled to confess, "Oh, Maria, it isn't true. None of it is true. There never was any meeting! I thought I could arrange everything once I got here, but the buildings are empty, and there's no one to meet with, and I spent so much money for nothing and now I'll be lucky if all my uncle does is fire me!"
Maria sat beside Lilian to hold his hand, but soon had her arms around him, stroking his hair and comforting him like a distraught child.
"There, there, mein liebchen, don't worry so," Maria comforted him. "Everything will be fine, you'll see. These things that seem so important to us today, they either work out or they don't. And if they don't, they are soon forgotten. You will see."
"But I might lose my job," wept Lilian.
"So, you might lose your job. Everyone loses a job at some time or other. Then they go out and find another. You will too."
"Are you sure?" asked Lilian, not really believing the words meant to comfort him.
"Of course," said Maria. "I have seen this many times in my life. You can trust me. It's only because you are still a young girl that you don't know these things."
Lilian sniffled, still held tight in Maria's arms. "Thank you Maria, that makes me feel better. Except... I'm not a girl," he said quietly.
Maria laughed softly. "Of course. 'Young woman', then. The point is, you are young. Look at me! I am so old compared to you. You have so much life yet to live, you mustn't waste it crying. Now you will dry your eyes, and whatever your problems are, you must fix them. And if you can't fix them, you must face the consequences bravely, without tears, yes?"
Lilian thought about correcting Maria's misperception again, but decided it didn't really matter. He sat up and faced her, wiped at his eyes and smiled. "Yes, I can do that," he agreed.
"That is my brave little one," said Maria. "Now you should have a good breakfast."
"But I thought breakfast for guests ended at noon, didn't it?" he asked.
"I know the owner," Maria said with a conspiratorial wink, making Lilian laugh. "You need a big plate of pancakes to help you face your troubles."
"Thank you, Maria," Lilian called out as Maria disappeared into the kitchen. With no one to talk to, he distracted himself by looking out the window at the pretty flower boxes on the building across the street.
"My Master wishes to meet with you!"
Lilian nearly jumped out of his skin at the sudden voice. He turned from the window to see a gaunt, pale man with dark thinning hair standing at his table, exactly where Maria had been only a moment before. The man had a haunted look to him, and his rumpled suit looked as if he regularly slept in it. Lilian placed his hand over his heart in an attempt to control its rapid beating.
"You startled me! I didn't know anyone else was here," he managed to say. Then he thought about the man's words and asked, "Your Master? Oh, do you mean your employer?"
"Yes, my... Employer," the man corrected himself. "My name is Renfield, and my Employer must meet with you."
Lilian jumped to several very wrong conclusions at once and said, "Oh, that's fantastic! Won't you please sit down, Mr. Renfield?"
Renfield served the Count by running errands and delivering messages during the day, the type of things the Count obviously could not do for himself. Although no one actually knew the Count's secret, everyone sensed it. And everyone knew that Renfield worked for the Count. A message delivered by Renfield was generally not something celebrated.
Renfield stared at the chair. No one had ever asked him to sit before. He was unsure how to respond.
"Please, sit," said Lilian encouragingly. "I need to ask you some questions. Can I get you some breakfast?"
Renfield sat awkwardly in the chair. "No, thank you," he said nervously. This was not going the way he had expected.
"Just say so if you change your mind," said Lilian. "Now please, tell me more about your employer."
So that was the problem! She obviously did not understand the power represented by the presence of Renfield. She would quake with fear when he told her, "My Master is the Count Vladimir Dodrescu!"
"A Count!" said Lilian with excitement. "That's wonderful. Where are his offices?"
"His offices?" asked Renfield, confused again.
"Yes, his offices!" said Lilian excitedly. "Where does he work? Where am I to meet him?"
This was a question Renfield felt he could answer. "My Lord lives in the Castle Dodrescu, high in the Carpathian Mountains. He wishes you to join him this..."
"And how many employees does he have?" Lilian interrupted. This was better than he had dreamed! Imagine, a castle converted to offices.
Renfield was getting tired of being constantly interrupted. "My Master is Lord over all!" he told Lilian forcefully. "All are his servants!"
"Okay, but I need to know how many actually work at the castle. How many offices does he have?"
Renfield thought this over. "How many rooms?" he finally asked.
"Yes!" said Lilian. "How many rooms are there?"
Renfield could imagine that someone summoned by the Count might have a lot of questions. But why she would want to know the number of rooms in the castle was beyond him. However he answered, "I'm not sure. About fifty, I think? Although there remain wings that are unopened, that contain many more rooms."
"Fantastic! So he's prepared for potential growth. And what kind of furniture does he currently have?" asked Lilian.
Renfield was beginning to realize, it was probably easier to just answer the girl's odd questions. "Most rooms are empty. Some contain old chairs and desks."
"That is definitely not a problem. Not a problem at all," Lilian told him.
"Good..." said Renfield slowly, wondering exactly what kind of problem empty rooms and old furniture might present. And to who.
"So when would the Count like to meet?" asked Lilian. "I'm free this afternoon. I can arrange for a meeting room here at the inn, if that's convenient."
Renfield had never encountered anyone like this woman. "My Master will not meet with you during the day. He wishes you to join him for dinner this evening at Castle Dodrescu."
"Perfect!" exclaimed Lilian. "Then I can see the location, maybe make some suggestions."
"Right..." responded Renfield submissively, giving in to Lilian's control of the conversation. "Fantastic. My Lord will be expecting you for dinner at eight o'clock."
"I have my own car so I should be okay getting there myself. Can you give me directions?"
An eerie reverence entered Renfield's voice as he pointed in an easterly direction and said, "Take the east route out of town. Then follow the roads, high into the mountains. Turn always in the direction that causes your blood to pound and fear to clutch at your chest. This will bring you to Castle Dodrescu."
"... at, your, chest," repeated Lilian as he wrote it all down. "Got it. And drive for how long?"
"About thirty minutes."
"Super. I'll probably Google it as well, just to be sure."
Renfield stared at this strange woman. She didn't dress like a woman. She didn't speak like a woman. She didn't act like a woman. In fact, Renfield was beginning to have his doubts. Certainly, she was an American. But this could only explain so much odd behaviour.
"The Count expects his guests to wear proper evening dress for dinner," he said, intending to settle his doubts.
"Of course," Lilian replied.
"A man, for example, would be expected to wear an evening suit, and a tie."
Lilian nodded.
"A woman, then, should wear an evening gown," he continued.
Lilian nodded again, telling Renfield exactly nothing.
Frustrated, Renfield asked, "So might I ask, what can we expect you to be wearing?"
Lilian looked at Renfield in confusion, but then his face brightened. "Oh, you're worried because of what I'm wearing!" he said, indicating his sweatshirt and jeans. "Don't worry, these aren't my only clothes! I'll be dressed appropriately."
"So we can expect you to be wearing..." prompted Renfield.
"Evening dress," replied Lilian.
Exasperated, Renfield tried again. "So will you be wearing an evening dress..." Lilian gave him a puzzled look so he continued, "or, or do you mean proper evening dress? I mean..."
"Don't worry!" replied Lilian. "I know exactly what you mean."
"Good," replied Renfield, not exactly sure what he meant and wondering how Lilian could be so sure.
A fly landed on the table, and rather than continue the difficult conversation Renfield watched it fixedly. Lilian watched Renfield as he watched the fly, only slightly disturbed by Renfield's intent expression. Only slightly disturbed, that is, until Renfield's hand shot out, snatching up the fly between thumb and forefinger faster than it could move.
Lilian watched, his expression turning to horrified, and perhaps slightly nauseated, as Renfield lifted the fly toward his opening mouth. Renfield stopped, the fly held a few inches from his gaping jaws, when he noticed Lilian's reaction. He lowered the fly, and slowly closed his mouth as he watched Lilian watching him.
"You weren't going to, um, eat that, were you?" asked Lilian, more than a little grossed out.
Renfield looked at the fly buzzing in his fingers, as if he had just noticed it for the first time. "This? Of course not!" he said, laughing dismissively but not at all convincingly. Lilian watched as Renfield opened a pocket in his jacket and placed the fly inside, patting the pocket softly closed.
Renfield stood quickly and left, saying, "My Master will expect you at eight."
"I'll be there. Thank you, Mr. Renfield!" Lilian called after him.
Maria chose this moment to return from the kitchen with Lilian's plate of pancakes, and a pitcher of syrup. She placed these on his table, saying, "Did I hear you speaking to someone?"
"Maria," said Lilian excitedly. "You were right! I've got another chance to prove I can do this job!"
"That's wonderful," said Maria. "I'm so very happy for you."
Lilian ate his pancakes, planning out all the things he needed to do before his eight o'clock dinner meeting.
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A/N: And so, the plot thickens! Finally Lilian has a client, and a business meeting. And trust me, this will be a meeting you will never forget! But first, in Chapter IV both Lilian and the demons will prepare for very different purposes...
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