Michael Belmont and the Heir of Van Helsing (The Adventures of Michael Belmont) (32 page)

They hadn’t gone far when the cave wall appeared out of the darkness before them.
 
In the center, carved out of the stone, was the pillared entrance to a crypt, and as they approached it Michael gaped at the image he saw etched across the stone door.
 
It was the same symbol he’d seen branded on the arm of Caleb Boone and his own father- the symbol of The Order of the Dragon.

“I’ve seen that symbol.
 
It stands for the Order of the Dragon,” Michael said excitedly.
 
“What’s it doing down here?”

“So you know of the order?” the Dragon asked.
 
“Well, it’s not surprising, considering your family history.”

Michael didn’t say anything to that.
 
He didn’t want to let on that he didn’t know much about the order, other than his father and Caleb both wore the symbol.

“If you know of the order, then perhaps you’ve heard of the man to whose remains we are going beyond this wall.”
 
His sad face wandered off to look into the distance, as if he were seeing something that happened a long time ago.

“And that might be?” asked Michael, drawing him back.

“You might know him as Saint George of Lydda, or Saint George the Dragonslayer.”

“You knew him, didn’t you?” Michael asked.

Magda scowled.
 
“What?
 
Don’t be ridiculous, Michael.
 
George the Dragonslayer died over seventeen hundred years ago.”

The old man raised an eyebrow.
 
“I’m impressed.
 
You know your history, young lady.”

“I do when it applies to
monster-slayers
,” she said accusingly.

Michael continued to examine the man’s eyes.
 
“You did, didn’t you?
 
You knew him.
 
He was a friend of yours.”

The Dragon thought for a moment.
 
“I suppose that to deny it would dishonor his memory.
 
Yes, I knew him.
 
He was a great friend, and one of the most brave, purest souls I have ever known, and as you seem to have figured out, I’ve known many.”

“Who exactly
are
you?” Abigail asked him, “and why were you being held in the castle?”

He eyed the three of them over, and for a moment looked as though he would protest.
 
“Alright,” he consented.
 
“I might as well tell you.
 
As the saying goes- an old tongue loves to wag, and I am very old and have had nobody to talk to for quite some time now.”
 
He sat down and leaned against one of the pillars.
 
Michael and Abigail sat as well, and Magda leaned with her back against the cavern wall, fidgeting with her daggers.

“Let’s see,” the old man scratched his stubbled face.
 
“Where should I begin?”
 
He took a long, deep breath.
 
“When I was a boy, I lived alone with my mother in a village not far from here.
 
I remember having a happy childhood, and my mother was very loving and kind, but she was also very sad.
 
She pined for my father, you see, who I only encountered a handful of times as a child.
 
I don’t really remember much about him.
 
Well, at some point, I think I was actually around your age, I discovered my ability to turn into a dragon.
 
Needless to say that it was quite a shock.”

“But you turn into a dinosaur, not a dragon,” Abigail interrupted him.

He shrugged at her.
 
“Call it what you will, my dear, but that word hasn’t been around very long.
 
When I was your age there were many different kinds of dragons wandering the earth.
 
Some of them were fairly gentle, and some were very dangerous.
 
Well, I never posed a threat to anybody, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t give people a terrible fright from time to time, not that I meant to.
 
I even protected my people from the dangerous sort of dragons, but
they
didn’t know what I was doing, they just thought I was another of the bad ones.”

“This is the most ridiculous story I’ve ever heard,” broke in Magda, “the poor old bloke has lost his mind up in that tower.”

“Don’t mind her,” Michael said, waving her off, “she’s just a mean old skeptic.”

The firelight from the torches danced on the old man’s face as he grinned and nodded.
 
“As well she should be,” he said.
 
“At any rate, an aspiring dragon-slayer got wind of my
terrorizing
and came to slay me.
 
He asked several children of the village, myself included, if we knew anything about where to find the beast.
 
I volunteered to help, and we became great friends.
 
I refrained from causing any disturbances, and thought he would eventually give up and leave, but one thing about George, he was persistent.
 
He always got the job done, that was one of the many great things about him.”

“Did you tell him what you could do?” Abigail asked excitedly.

“Actually, I suspected he was on to me, although I couldn’t figure out how.
 
I got tired of lying to everyone and changed by form right there in front of him and the whole village.
 
I thought for sure he was going to kill me, but he actually ended up saving me from the villagers.
 
They didn’t understand what I was, and thought I was a practitioner of some dark magic.”

“Were you?” Magda asked with a frown.

“No,” he replied happily.
 
“Till this day I don’t know for sure where my ability comes from.
 
Though I think the identity of my father might have something to do with it.”

“What happened after he saved you?” Abigail asked,
 
“What did you do then?”

“Well, George brought my mother and I back to this castle, and he took me under his wing and taught me how to fight the forces of evil.
 
Together, we started the Order of the Dragon as a way of training faithful soldiers who could replace us after we died.
 
After George passed away, I continued on with the work we’d started.
 
But something strange happened.
 
My mother grew old and died, as did everyone else around me, but I aged at an astoundingly slow rate.
 
Who knows how much time I have left on this Earth, I only know that I’ve far outlived the timespan of any normal man.”

“And you were never able to find out anything else about your father?” Michael asked him.

“Not really, but to be honest my father is not a subject I’ve ever liked to discuss.”

“So you’re trying to tell us that this castle once belonged to Saint George the Dragonslayer?” Magda asked doubtfully.

“Oh yes,” he nodded.
 
“As did the weapon you refer to as the Sword of Van Helsing.”

“He’s telling the truth,” Michael demanded.
 
He’d seen the origin of the sword in his visions when he’d touched it, and knew the old man was being honest with them.

“How do you know that?” Magda insisted.

“It’s hard to explain right now.
 
I’ll tell you everything later, but for now you’re just going to have to trust me.”

Magda gave him a hard stare, and Michael could almost see the gears turning inside her head.
 
Eventually she nodded at him in agreement, although she didn’t look happy about it.

“You still haven’t explained why Mihnea was holding you here,” Magda said.
 
“What were his plans for you?”

“He was holding me here because my blood is valuable to him in his dark rituals.
 
He was holding me because of my relationship to him, and to his father.
 
Tell me, do you not know what the name Dracula means?”

Michael gasped as he realized what the man was saying.
 
“It means…Son of the Dragon.”

“You mean
you’re
Dracula’s father?”
 
Abigail began to back slowly away from him.

“Yes,” he said sadly.
 
“I am Vlad II Dracul- Vlad the Dragon.
 
My son was the great prince of evil, Vlad III Dracula, also known as Vlad the Impaler.
 
But the subject of my son’s betrayal is another thing I’m not eager to talk about.
 
Not right now, anyway.
 
Come, we have work to do.”
 
He rose to his feet and clapped his hands, rubbing them together furiously to warm them up.
 
“It appears I’ve overlooked one thing,” he said more cheerfully.
 
“You’ll have to forgive me, my mind has been a bit clouded.
 
Anyway, we need something to smash our way through this door.
 
I had a key that could open up any door in the castle, but Mihnea took it from me.
 
I was so used to having it with me that I’d forgotten I needed it until we were standing right here in front of this door.”

“I don’t see a keyhole,” Abigail observed.
 
“Is there some way we can pick the lock?”

“I’m afraid it doesn’t work that way.
 
George was the master and guardian of this castle, and only he could open these sealed doors, but he gave me a gauntlet, which acted as a key and allowed me to gain access to them as well.”

Magda bent down and examined the door more closely.
 
“A gauntlet?
 
How would that help us open this thing?”

“I just wore it on my right hand and was able to push the doors open.”

“But how did Mihnea get around the castle before he took it from you?” Michael asked him.

“Most of the doors in the castle aren’t like this one.
 
There are only a few that have the special seal, like the door to the throne room.”

Michael leaned over and gave the door a hard push.
 
It didn’t budge.
 
“So, if this door is sealed magically or whatever, do you really think we’ll be able to smash our way through?”

“I don’t know, but it’s worth a try.
 
I guess we could always go back to the castle and ask Mihnea to return my gauntlet.”

“I’d rather not,” said Magda, reaching for Michael’s torch.
 
“There’s a really big rock over there against the wall, see if that will work.”

Michael followed her pointing finger.
 
“What are you, nuts?
 
That thing’s almost as big as Abigail.”

“All right, I’ll look for something smaller.”
 
She stooped and picked up a few pebbles.
 
“How about these?”

He gave her a sour smile.
 
“Well it’s nice to see your mood’s improved.”
 
He walked to the large stone, which wasn’t nearly as big as Abigail, and knelt down to pick it up.

“Lift with your legs, not your back,” his sister told him.

“Do
you
want to come and do this?”

She crossed her arms and smirked while shaking her head.

Michael grabbed the rock with both hands and lifted.
 
He gritted his teeth and sweat began to bead on his reddening face, but the rock wouldn’t budge.

“Humph,” grunted Magda, placing her hands on her hips.
 
She raised her eyebrows and examined him doubtfully.

“Don’t look at me in that tone of voice,” he told her, rubbing his back.
 
“Besides, I don’t think that rock is just sitting on the ground.
 
Most of it seems to be buried.”

She cocked her head.
 
“If you say so.”

“Maybe I can knock it down,” the Dragon told them.
 
Without saying another word, he changed back into a dracorex, and swatted the door with his tail, but didn’t seem to be doing any damage.
 
He turned around, got some distance, and ran full speed, ramming the doorway with his head.
 
A dull, cracking thud resounded through the cavern, and the beast staggered back and landed on his rear end before changing back into the old man.
 
He immediately began to rub the top of his head.
 
“Ooouuch,” he whimpered.

Michael retrieved a bowling ball sized rock and began to beat it against the door.
 
He was encouraged to see small pieces begin to fall away, but then realized it was all coming from the stone he was holding.
 
He cast the rock to the side and wiped his brow.
 
“Can I borrow one of those daggers of yours?” he asked Magda.

She pulled one out and handed it to him, and he attempted to chisel away at the door.
 
Sparks began to fly, and after a few moments he examined his work.
 
Sure enough, the door was unharmed, and only the dagger’s blade had been damaged.
 
Magda scowled at him accusingly as he handed it back.

“Why don’t you try that fancy little toy light of yours again,” she told him.
 
“You know, the one that told us we could get out through the window.”

“I find your lack of faith disturbing,” he retorted, pulling it from his pocket to hold out before her.

She pursed her lips and scrunched her nose at him.

Michael held it up toward the door, and a warm blue light spread across the entire cavern.
 
He stood looking at the door for a moment, hoping to see something that would show them a way in, but he could see nothing unusual.

The old man looked over Michael’s shoulder with an awed face.
 
“That’s a remarkable trinket, where exactly did you get it?”

“Holy COW,” Abigail shouted.
 
“Michael, look at
her
!”