The pale, punctured body of the lifeless young scullery maid lay twisted and broken behind the firewood, against the back of the garden shed. She could not have been there for more than a few hours. Small, dark red circles cover her ashen body, dried and clotted. I usually find the bodies first, but the greenskeeper beat me to her this time.

"Mr. Folcwalding!" Colin protests.

"Enough, Colin!" I yell back, breathlessly. "For the last time: we absolutely will not be sending for Scotland Yard!"

"But the girl's been drained o' blood, Sir! Ravaged by a ruddy vampire, lying 'ere now like a brittle bit o' Swiss cheese!"

"Oh, for God's sake, Colin. There are no such things as vampires! Now kindly calm yourself and help me move her into the shed." Colin speaks reason, but I will not hear it. Scotland Yard cannot come here; there is too much at stake. As for Colin's vampires, he may be right there. I've heard more than one account of their horrors in Drakesheath, though I am fairly certain this girl was no victim of their nocturnal delights.

Until I can think of a more plausible reply for the young gardener, I will have to settle for mere power of authority. Dutifully, Colin gives up his argument and helps me in wrapping the girl in a wool blanket from the back of a horse cart. We then place her in the shed before returning to the terrace. Colin crosses himself.

"She mus' be given a Christian burial, Sir," Colin says finally, looking downward.

"Of course she must, Colin," I condescend. I owe the greenskeeper an explanation, but I cannot help but take notice of the raven on the ledge of the stone balcony, above. Eleanor employs many familiars as her eyes and ears, but none are so terrifying to me as the raven. My words must be very careful and deliberate. "Do not doubt my sensibilities, Colin. The girl's death is bizarre and unnatural, and I will do what is within my power to seek justice. But there is also the well-being of Drakesheath to consider. I will do nothing to put the Baron's estates in jeopardy, do you understand me?"

Colin nods as a subordinate does, with only partial understanding. Still, I am confident that my explanation will suffice. As the gardener returns to his duties, I look back at the raven, who continues to eye me carefully. I swallow hard and return to the dining room.