"I think I should maybe return home now," Nettle said. She yawned. "My head hurts. Too much time in the sun."

"Sure."

She made no move to get onto her bike.

Wind caught on her auburn hair that the summer sun had dyed fudge on the top. She had freckles on her nose that only appeared during the summer, though they were fewer every year.

"I don't really want to go though. Could I maybe come to spend the evening with you and Moth?"

"Oh. Ermm. Of course. Why not?" I checked my phone for the time. "You'll be home really late though."

She shrugged.

"It's OK. My parents won't mind. They weren't really expecting me home for this summer. I was thinking of maybe working in the city but changed my mind."

Something in my stomach fell.

But of course. Nettle was studying so she could have a profession, to become a doctor. There were no clinics in Grenbrea, only an apothecary near the station. The nearest hospital was in Bearling. An hour's driving distance away.

"There are practices that you have to do as a part of the degree," Nettle went on. "It's really convenient to do a part of them in the summers."

"Ah. Mm... So then you would only come here for the winter break?"

Nettle seemed awkward.

"I suppose. Maybe. I don't know. My parents said they wouldn't mind. They really want me to succeed in life... But... what do you think?"

She was now red and wasn't looking at me.

"It sounds like the logical choice," I ventured. "But I... Don't you like coming here for the summer?"

She lifted her face to answer me. Her gaze slid past me. Nettle stared at something behind my back.

I turned.

And stared with her.

Timothy was striding towards us. He had changed his clothes to ones without any fresh paint on them. He also carried his nephew on his shoulders. Plume's head nodded on every step his uncle took, hanging limply over one shoulder. Timothy was holding onto him by one foot and one hand, as if the other man were a curious shawl he had wrapped around himself for warmth. Plume didn't have shoes. His bare hand and foot seemed impossibly pale compared against Timothy's tanned skin where he gripped his nephew.

"I need a favor," he said when he came close enough to speak. He spoke directly to me, hardly acknowledging Nettle at all. "We need to get to Bearling now."

He held my gaze. Up close the colorless irises made me uncomfortable. And where was the polite smile he always wore? What was this seriousness? Instinctively, I took a step back.

"What do you mean?" I asked, my gaze sliding away from his eyes to Plume's limp form. "And what is wrong with him?"

A short silence fell.

"I cannot explain this to you, Bramble. This is a favor I am asking. Take us to Bearling before the sun sets, please. I'll give you anything you ask for, do anything you wish. But it has to be now."

There was desperation to his tone. I looked back to his face and found something I wasn't prepared for: His eyes were pleading me.

"Is he, like, sick? Should we call an ambulance or something?" And where had Plume come from in the first place, anyway?

"It won't come in time. Bramble, please. Let's get moving. You can change your mind on the road. Let's talk on the road!"

"Does Mom know of this?" I asked, but opened the backseat for him. No one had ever asked anything of me with the same level of desperation that Timothy was showing. I didn't know what to make of it.

"I'll explain to her later, on a Saturday," Timothy said.

He wasn't gentle with the body when he pushed it to the back seat and followed it there. Plume's head thumped heavily against the backseat window while his neck bent in an uncomfortable angle.

Nettle clambered on the passenger seat. She didn't say anything but simply got on it. Timothy didn't remark on it, and I felt a bit safer with someone familiar onboard, so I started the engine before she could change her mind on anything.

I only checked the rear view mirror once we were off the dirt paths on asphalt road, headed towards Bearling.

I didn't see Plume, only Timothy's head. I supposed Plume was now laying on the backseat, his head probably on Timothy's lap.

The thought brought color to my cheeks.

I returned my face to watch the road. There wasn't much to see there, or unsee. Which was probably for the best.

"What's wrong with him?" Nettle asked then.

She turned in her seat, which was now possible as we had left the uneven parts of the journey behind us. Back on the dirt paths it would have been nearly impossible and at least very uncomfortable with her head bouncing to the ceiling.

"Nothing. That is our problem."

"Timothy," Nettle said very seriously. "He is unconscious. And you should support his head better. He'll get a concussion."

Nettle reached behind the seat to the back.

"Hey!" Nettle sounded indignant.

"Nettle, stop." Timothy's voice came a bit clearer now. I checked the mirror and saw only the top of his head. Apparently the boy was leaning closer and possibly gripped Nettle by the wrist.

"You'll achieve nothing but a headache. Look."

I heard Nettle drawing in a sharp breath, but couldn't check the mirror just then as we came to a curve, followed by another.

"What is that? And why won't you let me check the pulse?"

"That is the natural color of his eyes. Vampire eyes, Nettle. Whether you are willing to believe it or not is up to you, but in my world Plume is a vampire. And if he wakes up now, here, he just might reach out to drink you up. Which is why we are taking him to a city, where he can find a more convenient person to drain."

What?

"What?" Nettle echoed my thoughts.

"Think about it," Timothy was saying. "Your memories put together. You do remember I took with me a raven from the pub. You remember Plume as a person as well. If you think carefully about everything, you can see it. Some part in you suspects there is just one thing. And I do not doubt that Daisy said the same, when I was fetched to the City. You do remember that. I mean it, Nettle. In my world, there are vampires. And we are right now carrying one who is possibly very thirsty, to the nearest pool of people. There are intricacies to this, but this is the gist of it. I don't want a thirsty vampire loose near the village, I want it in a big city where there are people close to dying. Plume will know which to take. But the decision might be a desperate one. The more there are to choose from the better."

A silence followed. I watched the road. I didn't know what to think of all this. I was driving a hundred kilometers for this madness? If Timothy really believed all this, it explained why he put up with all the talk of elves. He had his very own fixation.

But if you followed the logic of his words, it was a twisted tale.

The man was absolutely nuts.

"You are mad." Nettle said.

"Am I?" Timothy challenged her. "Aren't you the one seeking drugs so you can remember elves? I at least know my own story. And I am not playing with magic mushrooms. Here, please, check the pulse. Why not? Please try it out. You are the doctor, tell me what you see?"

Nettle reached over the seat again. She supported herself on the driver's seat. Her hair tickled my nose.

A long moment passed. Nettle shifted her weight.

"He is dead," she said at last. "He doesn't breathe. There is no pulse."

She withdrew back to her seat.

"He is dead." She sounded dazed.

"He has been dead for thirty years," Timothy answered from the back.

Nettle turned suddenly back.

After a while she declared: "You are not. You have a pulse."

Then she screamed suddenly and I steered on the other side of the middle line, to the opposite lane. I got us back to our side just when she returned to her seat again.

I glanced at the mirror. Timothy was looking back at me. His eyes seemed red. I didn't know what caused it. I looked at the road again.

"And before you try calling 112, take a picture. A vampire cannot be photographed. Or seen in mirrors."

Right. Of course.

I snorted.

Then, for the first time, I intervene in the conversation:

"If we are carrying a dead man, you don't mind if I drive to the police station, once we get to Bearling, do you?"

"No. I don't mind. As long as we get to a town, I don't mind. Just don't stop before that. Please."