The Snow Vampire Read Online Free Page A

aware that this was the first time I had actually touched him, and a small thrill ran through me; despite the heat of the sun beating down on me, I shivered just a little. “Come,” I said, determined to hold on to his shoulder as long as decorum would allow. “It is nearly suppertime now. Soon you will know all you need to know of the ruins. And then some.” As we turned and walked toward home, I watched as Hendrik turned back, his eyes desperate to catch further glimpses of the broken rock parapets that he now knew were hidden somewhere above us.
     
     
    “ S O ,” Grandmamma intoned, “you wish to know of the snagov vrolok .”
    “The snagov —what?” Hendrik said, half-laughing his reply. “I thought I was asking about the old monastery in the hills.”
    “And indeed you were,” Grandmamma said, her face as grave as mine was giddy. “And I happen to know that the vrolok is the only reason young boys ever ask an old woman like me about those ruins,” she added, casting an unfavorable eye toward her only grandson.
    We were sitting at the small butcher block table in the kitchen that the women in my family had been preparing meals on and swapping stories over for generations. Dinner had been concluded, and Grandmamma was sitting down to a hot kettle and some tea. She shook the kettle at each of us, offering a cup, but we both declined. Hendrik, I could tell, was too intrigued.
    “A snagov vrolok ?” he repeated. The old Czech term did not roll easily off his tongue. “The first word is snow, that I know. But I am afraid I don’t know the second….” He trailed off, looking at Grandmamma expectantly.
    She did not disappoint. With all the severity an old woman could muster, she leaned across the table and whispered the other word into his ear. “Vampire,” she said.
    Hendrik laughed, loud and hearty. Grandmamma disapproved of his less-than-serious response, rolling her eyes and sipping her tea. As for me, I was delighting in this moment, reveling in Hendrik’s curiosity and joy. I was still quite happy that I had given him this, and that there was more to come.
    “A snow vampire ?” he asked, hitting the last word hard for emphasis. “I have never heard of such a thing.”
    Grandmamma wagged a finger at each of us, a signal that, for the moment, quieted our chuckles. “Laugh all you want,” she said. “But I tell you, that place is cursed. Always has been.”
    “We’re sorry, Grandmamma. We mean no disrespect,” I said, suppressing an urge to continue giggling. I could not help it; Hendrik’s delight, the first time I had ever seen such emotion in him, was positively contagious. Still, I coughed and swallowed, taking a deep breath to still the last giggles that threatened to continue disrupting the solemn tenor of Grandmamma’s voice.
    “Yes, ma’am,” Hendrik added. “I would very much like to hear the tale, if you would tell me.”
    “Mm,” Grandmamma said, a noncommittal noise indicating that she would, for the moment, reserve judgment. “Very well. It all started centuries ago. Before there was even this town here, there was the monastery. Hundreds of years old, it is. At first it was like any other holy order. The brothers there cared for travelers, rescuing them from storms and snow when they could. In time a large vein of tin was discovered in the mountain, and so the miners came, and the little village grew up around them. Because of the village, travelers now had a place to bed down at night and eat a hot meal. More came through the pass on the way north, and because of this and the mine, both the town and monastery prospered.
    “For many years the town and the monastery co-existed peacefully; the brothers tended to the spiritual needs of the community while the villagers would send up extra stores of food and supplies when the winter was especially harsh and the brothers’ meager rations ran low. There was peace and harmony in the pass for many years. But something happened