“I don’t see anything,” she said.
“It’s an old map,” he said. “It was drawn by hand, and is very rough. I’m sure it is not exact. But the markings indicate this area.”
Caleb looked around again, and she did, too. But neither of them saw anything.
“This cottage,” Caitlin said, “was here hundreds of years ago. Isn’t it possible that it’s been destroyed?”
Caleb scrutinized the woods. He headed in a particular direction, and she walked with him, leaves rustling.
“Yes,” he said, “that is possible. Especially if it was built of wood. Then it is most likely. But I am hoping it was built of stone. Most vampire cottages were. Then it could still stand. Or at least a portion of it.”
“But even if so, don’t you think that by now it would have been discovered, or vandalized?” she asked.
“Possibly. Unless…”
She waited. “Unless?”
“Unless it has become overgrown. There is a tradition among vampires, a way to pass a clue on to generations. We build a stone cottage, and then plant wisteria, thorns, layers of thickets closely around it. If left alone, it grows wildly, quickly, so thick and deep, that over time, if it were a remote place, it stays untouched and is virtually impossible for a layperson to see. This way, centuries later, the initiated could still find it.”
He looked around.
“The one advantage we have here is that this forest is remote. That gives me hope.”
“Assuming that was a real map,” Caitlin said, playing devil’s advocate. “Maybe it was planted by someone. Maybe it’s a false lead.”
Caleb looked at her and smiled.
“You have a very sophisticated mind,” he said. “Perhaps you are over thinking this. Yes, that is possible. But I doubt it. That scroll was genuine.”
He took her hand as they walked deeper into the forest, the only sound, that of leaves rustling.
She could feel the cold sinking into her bones.
Caleb suddenly removed his large, leather coat and draped it around her shoulders. As always, she was amazed at how he could read her mind, and touched by his generosity.
“No,” she said, “I can’t take your – “
“Please,” he responded. “I am not cold.”
As he draped his coat around her shoulders, Caitlin loved the feel of it. It was surprisingly heavy, and the inside was still warm from his body heat. She loved the smell of the leather. It felt so worn in, so comfortable, as if he had been wearing it for hundreds of years. It was way too big for her, but somehow it fit perfectly. Wearing it, she felt as if she were his. As if they were boyfriend and girlfriend. She loved the feeling.
Caleb looked down, checked the scroll, and looked back up at the woods. Still nothing.
Caitlin turned herself, in every direction, and squinted into the darkness with all she had.
As her eyes adjusted, she thought she spotted something.
“Caleb,” she said.
He turned, and she raised a finger.
“See that? On the horizon. It looks like a thicket of branches. Do you think?”
He looked at it and squinted. Finally, he took her hand, and led her towards it. “Nothing to lose,” he said.
As they walked towards it, leaves rustling, getting closer, Caitlin felt encouraged. It was a huge, impenetrable thicket of tangled branches and thorns. It almost looked like a wall. They circled it, and it must’ve been 100 feet deep in every direction. It was impenetrable. If anything fit his description, this was it. No one could get anywhere near this thing, unless they had a thick machete, and were willing to spend days chopping. Whatever was at its center—if anything—would likely be untouched.
But then again, maybe this was just a huge thicket of branches and thorns, and all that they would find for their trouble was more thorns.
Caleb nodded slowly. “Yes,” he said. “This could be it.”
He studied it for a while, the finally said, “Stand back.”
Caitlin took several steps back, wondering what he would do.
Caleb pulled his sleeves down, over his hands, shielding them, then reached in, and with his incredible strength, tore at the thicket of branches. It was incredible, like watching a chainsaw attack the pile.
Within seconds, he had cleared a path, just wide enough for one person to walk through. He was already lost deep in the thicket, when she heard his voice call out: “Here!”
Caitlin walked through the narrow pathway, through the wall of branches, a good 30 feet deep, and finally caught up to him.
She saw, over his shoulder, a small, stone wall.
“You found it,” he said, and broke into a grin.
He cleared some more branches, and revealed a small, arched entryway to the tiny stone cottage.
He entered, taking her hand, and she followed close behind.
It was dark and musty, and they both took a few halting steps in, before Caleb suddenly stopped.
They heard something rolling beneath their feet, and Caleb reached down. He held something up.
“What is it?” she asked.
He held it high, but she couldn’t really see in the darkness. Finally, he said, “Old candles. I think they’re intact. Hold this.”
Caitlin took it and rubbed his hands together with lightning speed. She had never seen anything like it. Within seconds, his hands were moving so fast that she could feel the heat coming off of them. He then put his hands over the tip of the candle, and held them there. After a second, he pulled back, and as he did, to Caitlin’s shock, the candle was aflame. She looked up at him in awe.
She wished she could do that, too.
“You have to teach me that one,” she said, smiling.
In the candle light, she could see him smile. She lowered the candle to the floor and revealed several more candles, all spread out. So that was the rolling noise they’d heard. He picked one up and pulled back its wick, and she reached over and lit it. Now they each had a burning candle. And it was enough to light up the place.
The cottage was tiny, just tall enough for her to stand in, and low enough for Caleb to have to crouch. Its one room wasn’t large, maybe ten by ten feet. Its walls were stone, and while they weren’t perfectly aligned, there didn’t seem any obvious places to hide anything in. Against the far wall was a small fireplace, filled with branches which must have gotten in through its small chimney over the centuries.