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Jonathan said. It was the first time he had countered
any of Van Helsing's instructions. I felt a rush of love for
    him, for I understood that,
like me, he feared Van Helsing's obsessive concern with my change.
    "Cannot?"
Van Helsing bristled, contained his temper then went on soothingly. "I am
an old man. I am not able to travel as you
    do. Though there is danger in
taking Mina to the heart of his so-dark land, I will do it to save her."
    I thought of
the pistol in my traveling bag and how a vampire's strength was incredible. I
could defend myself against Van Helsing.
    If it came to a struggle
between us, it would be better if Jonathan did not witness the outcome.
    "The
professor is right," I said sweetly, taking Jonathan's hand. "He
knows so much about the monster we face, I will be safer
    with him than with any of
you."
    Was it only weeks ago that my aunt
sat with me in her parlor and warned me that in our marriage I would always be
the stronger, the more intelligent? With my mind blinded by love and concern
for Jonathan, I had politely ignored her. Now I understood the truth of her
words. I wish Jonathan had disagreed with me for a while longer. If he had, I
would respect him more. Instead he nodded and, with his hand holding mine,
listened as Arthur and Quincey discussed the arrangements for our pursuit.
    Within hours, I was at the riverbank
saying good-bye to Jonathan. He and Quincey will travel on the water, hoping to
overtake the barge that is carrying Dracula home. Jack and Arthur will travel
by horseback along the river. Van Helsing and I will take a carriage to the
Borgo Pass. Hopefully one party or the other will do "what must be
done," as Jack Seward is so fond of saying.
    Throughout the first day of the
journey, Van Helsing acted the parts of father and physician, watching me
constantly for any sign of fatigue so he could order me to sleep as if I were
a stubborn child. I understood that the difference in our ages was partially responsible
for his behavior and hid my resentment. As it was, I needed the sleep and lay
in the back of the carriage, wrapped tightly in the fur coat and throws Van
Helsing had purchased for our journey. Each time I woke, it was with greater
difficulty. I would sit silently beside Van Helsing as we traveled through
country increasingly more rugged and remote.
    We stopped in mid-afternoon at a
farmer's cottage to exchange horses. I smelled stew cooking and suggested to
Van Helsing that we purchase a meal. The farmer's wife, a portly woman with
flashing black eyes, smiled happily at the amount we offered and invited us
inside to warm ourselves at the hearth, where a half dozen children waited for
dinner. They stared at me with dark, slightly slanted eyes that made me
understand just how far east we have traveled.
    I unwrapped
the scarf from around my face, exposing the scar the host had made on my
forehead. The woman's eyes grew wide.
    She held out her index and smallest finger toward me and glanced
at the door, as if assuring herself that the sun was still high in the sky before
dishing out the stew. I smelled the garlic in it, and though it was spicy, I
ate it anyway. Everyone looked at me so intently that I knew the food was a
test of my nature and I dared not refuse it. Once I had taken a few bites and
commented on the flavor of the bread, the family seemed to relax and fear
turned to curiosity.
    During the meal, I tried to speak to
the woman, using a few of the words I had learned when I had come east to find
Jonathan, but the dialect in this region was too different. However, as I was
finishing the meal, the woman suddenly pressed a plain brass crucifix into my
palm. I thought she was giving it to me, but she pulled it back then gestured
that I hold out my hand. I did as she asked, angling my palm toward the
firelight so she could see that the cross had left no mark. Relieved, she
gripped my hand, made the sign of the cross over me and recited what I thought
was a quick prayer. "She