Prologue

1. By seven, Kunigund’ saw plainly
   The burdens she would grow up with:
   Her name (romantic, if ungainly)
   And knowledge vampires weren’t a myth.
   The Heller clan, for generations
   Had hunted such abominations.
   A very few were left alive
   That summer night in fifty-five
   When, at her grandmother’s insistence,
   Her mother stuffed her in a new
   Pink dress, and Oma drove them to
   The castle looming in the distance.
   There she would meet, at eight o’clock,
   The vampire Graf of Sternendach.
2. Such visits are about tradition
   And not a pleasant social act.
   They satisfy but one condition
   Of many in a solemn pact.
   In eighteen ninety-seven, Hellers
   Slew Graf and Gräfin in their cellars.
   The new Graf, ruling in their stead,
   And wishing no more people dead,
   Proposed a compromise that stated
   No vampire might, to sate his needs,
   Cause death for those on whom he feeds.
   The Hellers, too, cooperated
   And as consideration, swore
   They’d not slay vampires any more.
3. The two sides signed a treaty, saying
   That anyone who breaks this peace
   Will find himself (or herself) paying
   A fatal price for that caprice.
   To keep this grim arrangement going,
   One extra thing is needed. Knowing
   The Hellers are but mortal, one—
   A woman—serves as liaison,
   Succeeded later by her daughter.
   The one who rules the fam’ly now
   Is eldest of this party: Frau
   Luzia Heller. She has brought her
   One grandchild up to be prepared
   To take a role she can’t be spared.
4. Luzia’s mother, called Maria,
   First set these women on this path,
   Conceding to the Graf’s idea
   To save her people from his wrath.
   This took no small amount of will: her
   Own father was the old Graf’s killer.
   Luzia has her mother’s hair;
   In all else, she’s her grandsire’s heir.
   More patient, though. More calculating.
   She knows her enemies by heart,
   Has mastered many weapons’ art,
   And seldom smiles. Participating
   Despite her hatred seems a way
   Of keeping other pain at bay.
5. Now, Eva, Kunigunde’s mother,
   Her husband was Luzia’s son.
   They loved their child and one another,
   But Eva’s dreams were come undone
   The night he took his father driving
   And crashed, with neither one surviving.
   For Kunigunde, Eva stayed
   And tried to learn the fam’ly trade.
   Alas, she has no stomach for it.
   She firmly grips her daughter’s hand
   And gives in to the Graf’s demand
   To meet. She knows she can’t ignore it,
   And wishes she had strength to fight.
   Someday she may, but not tonight.
6. Amid this roiling fam’ly drama,
   Young Kunigunde chatters. “Does
   The castle have a princess, Mama?”
   She wants to know. What interest is
   Her Oma’s spite, her mother’s worry?
   The castle beckons—Hurry! Hurry!
   The last of sunset’s golden glow
   Receding from the town below
   Is gone, but gets a grand revival
   As towers loom and turrets rise
   Against the star-strewn velvet skies.
   It dazzles her at their arrival.
   She gets one final look before
   They sweep her through the castle’s door.
7. They’re not in yet. The room before them
   Is simple, well-secured, and small.
   An iron safe is waiting for them
   Behind a panel in the wall.
   The women, as is necessary,
   Remove the weapons which they carry
   As heirlooms and as points of pride
   And place the pistols safe inside.
   They do not carry stakes. Though charming,
   Their rustic, rough-hewn quality
   Ill suits the present century.
   Most hunters nowadays are arming
   Themselves with guns which, like as not,
   They load with custom wooden shot.
8. These precious guns now locked securely
   Away, Luzia takes the key.
   “Good ev’ning, Timoch,” she says. “Surely
   You’ll come out now where we can see.”
   He steps from out the shadow lightly.
   He greets Luzia, nods politely,
   Then shows the way with outstretched hand.
   The child knows Timoch is no man.
   A vampire, and the Graf’s retainer,
   He’s seen three hundred winters pass.
   And there’s no fighter in his class,
   Her Oma says, though he looks plainer
   Than she’d have thought. A poor surprise,
   This vampire first to meet her eyes.
9. Their footfalls echo in the quiet
   Of hallways lined with tapestries.
   A candle winks as they walk by. It
   Sends shadows dancing, and she sees
   The figures as alive. The glinting
   Of golden thread, its richness hinting
   At fairy-story opulence,
   Appeals to seven-year-old sense.
   When Timoch stands aside, revealing
   His Excellency’s private suite,
   She almost cannot keep her feet.
   And yet it’s not the painted ceiling,
   The draperies, or cornices
   That draw her gasp—for there he is.
10. If Timoch’s only ordinary,
    His lord looks every inch the part
    Of vampire prince. His height, his very
    Demeanor serve to touch her heart
    With frost. He leans against a table,
    In formal suit of grey and sable
    With only one chromatic note:
    The red silk knotted at his throat.
    He turns toward them. Is she staring?
    Does she sense something just beneath
    His smile, which does not hide his teeth?
    He has a graceful, noble bearing,
    But Oma gave her this advice:
    There’s none alive who’s crossed him twice.
11. “Good ev’ning, ladies.” (And his voice is
    As smooth as glass and just as fine.)
    “What can I offer you? Your choice is
    Some coffee, or perhaps some wine.”
    Luzia is the first to answer:
    “I beg you, spare this courtly dance, sir.
    We understand why we are here,
    Since you required we appear.”
    With narrowed eyes and sour expression,
    He says, “It is a true delight
    To have you in my home tonight.”
    He softens. “Eva, you’re a vision.
    How kind of you to come.” But she
    Looks wistful at his courtesy.
12. “So this, at last, is Kunigunde,”
    The Graf says, in his silken tone.
    “Just seven years? It is a wonder
    How in such time the child has grown.”
    Although his presence may have jarred her
    He kneels now, better to regard her,
    And asks for only her to hear,
    “How do you like my castle, dear?”
    It makes her feel a little braver,
    The gentle way he asks, and soon
    She sheds her diffident cocoon.
    His eyes upon her never waver.
    He listens to his youthful guest
    Describe the parts she likes the best.
13. “What’s that?” she asks. The vampire rises
    And turns to look, then gives a laugh
    As he sees what so tantalizes
    The child: a volume bound in calf
    And tooled with gold. He reads the title,
    “The Stars of Sternendach. A vital
    Retelling of our country’s lore.
    Perhaps you’ve seen its like before?”
    He opens to an illustration
    Of knights and princesses below
    An astral vault, and bends to show
    It her. She nods appreciation
    But says to him, “And now I need
    To hold the book so I can read.”
14. He hesitates, but she’s insistent.
    He says, “Then take it for your own.”
    Luzia’s face shows she’s resistant
    To this largesse their host has shown.
    She says, “If this concludes our meeting,
    You must excuse us. We’ll be needing
    To take our Kinge home. It’s late.
    Might Timoch lead us to the gate?”
    The Graf, ignoring her, releases
    The book to Kinge’s eager hand
    And says to her, “Now, understand
    This work contains some favorite pieces
    Of mine. Enjoy them, little one.
    I’d like your thoughts when you are done.
15. “For now, good night and pleasant dreaming.”
    And so her heart completes its thaw.
    She clasps her lovely present, beaming,
    Her fear of him transformed to awe.
    She curtseys, like her mother told her,
    And only once looks ov’r her shoulder
    To watch the Graf recede from view.
    Once Timoch leads her fam’ly through
    The halls, Luzia stops to gather
    Their weapons and, like that, it’s done.
    The ride home is a silent one.
    A tired Kunigund’ would rather
    Stay up to read, but in the car’s
    Back seat she sleeps, and dreams of stars.