When Giradin was a boy, the other children of his village often made a game of daring each other to go into the graveyard at night. A fence surrounded that old cemetery, and it was said among the children that the bravest boy of all would be the one who could cross from the lychgate at the entrance all the way to the headstone on the opposite end, touch the headstone, then calmly walk back.

Giradin had attempted this several times as a boy, but always lost his nerve.

Now, as a grown man, he entered the graveyard in Kinhan with his fellow plague doctors under the cover of darkness. There'd been some argument as to how, exactly, one killed what was already dead, so they brought with them whatever they could get their hands on.

Giradin carried a cross he'd made by tying together two branches of a hawthorn plant. In his other hand he kept a tight grip on his seax.

Mu held a wooden spike in one hand, cut from the limb of an aspen tree, and his scimitar in the other.

Shlomo held a braid of garlic cloves in one hand and his short sword in the other.

Finally, Fulk carried a shovel he'd "borrowed" from one of the commoners.

Only the moon and the stars lit the Crows' path as they crept into the graveyard, for grave-robbing was punishable by a hangman's noose, and none of them wanted to risk trying to explain that they weren't grave-robbers.

Wooden crosses marked every grave in the cemetery, making Giradin less confident that his hawthorn cross would have any effect on the vampire, if indeed there was one. Not a single name was etched into the grave-markers, for the commoners of Kinhan couldn't read anyway. It was just as well, neither could Giradin, and he suspected his companions were equally illiterate.

"How are we to know which grave to check?" Giradin whispered. "We don't know where Teebald was buried."

"Start by looking for a grave with disturbed dirt," whispered Shlomo as he leaned down to get a closer look at the ground by the crosses.

"Over here!" Mu called, in a hushed voice just above a whisper.

The other three men hurried over to him. Giradin's temples throbbed with each beat of his racing pulse. When they all drew close to the grave where Mu stood, Fulk knelt down and nodded his head. "Aye, someone's dug up this grave recently, then reburied it. They did a poor job of it too." Fulk stood again and pressed the tip of the spade to the disturbed soil. "Shlomo, keep an eye out so we don't get caught. Mu, Giradin, eyes on the grave in case something jumps out."

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Fulk started on the heretical work of digging up the grave while the others kept watch. Spade-full after spade-full tossed aside. It seemed Fulk was digging for days, though the moon had barely moved in the night sky above. Giradin heard the snaps of branches nearby, but he kept his eyes transfixed on the grave, trusting Shlomo would keep an eye on all other threats.

Fulk's spade hit something wooden. "Get ready!" he said before leaning down to clear away some of the dirt by hand. "Here's the coffin." He dug more of the dirt away with his shovel, then leaned down again and felt for the lip of the coffin's lid. With a groan, he pulled the lid off the coffin, letting the remaining dirt slide off. Moonlight poured into the wooden box, illuminating the inside.

It was empty.

All men stood in shocked silence, until Shlomo looked over his shoulder and saw the empty grave. "Baruch Atah Adonai, Elohaynu Melech ha'Olam..."

"Don't panic," Fulk said. "This doesn't mean there's a vampire on the loose. It could just as easily mean someone stole the body already. Or that Teebald was accidentally buried alive, happens all the time."

"But what if it really is a vampire?" Giradin snapped. "What then?"

Fulk shrugged. "Then we kill it, and we make sure we're thorough about it. Beheading, stake through the heart, garlic in the mouth burn it... everything!"

"Better question," Mu chimed in, "Now that we know that Teebald isn't in his grave, how do we track him?"

"Could we lure him out?" asked Giradin. All three of the other doctors turned their beaks toward him, as if waiting for him to explain more. "You know... we could spill blood somewhere and the scent of blood might draw him to it."

Shlomo chuckled. "Kill someone to stop the monster that's killing people, hmm? A cunning plan!"

"No!" Giradin groaned. "Not human blood. Maybe a sheep or a chicken or something."

Mu shook his head. "We don't know that vampires crave animal blood the way they do human blood. Or how intelligent vampires are. He might guess it's a trap."

"Here's a thought," Fulk said, "The girl who told Giradin about the vampire said Teebald's widow saw him, right? So, we find out where Teebald lives and we wait there for him. And whatever we do, we leave this graveyard NOW so we don't get caught! Come on!"

Fulk dropped the spade in the empty grave and pushed past the others on his way out of the graveyard. He passed under the lychgate, checked for witnesses, and motioned for the others to follow.

All four plague doctors left the graveyard together. "Anyone know where Teebald's widow lives?" Mu asked. "Or what her name is?"

"The children do," said Giradin. "And they're sure to help us. Poor little ones are so terrified."

"There's a far easier way," said Shlomo. "Around here, widows hang black wreaths over their doors when they're in mourning for dead husbands. We just find a door with a black wreath over it and lie in wait for our dead friend to show himself."