Mina and I had been spending our days by the cliff lately. I wrote while she picked marigolds along the edge. We did not return even at lunchtime or afternoon tea, staying until the sun hung low on the horizon and its fading light spread across the cliffs and the ancient monastery, bathing everything in magnificent radiance. Only then did we head back down the tiered steps for dinner.
These marigolds were ordinary wildflowers by the roadside, far inferior to the roses and lilies grown in aristocratic gardens, yet the Harker family used them to decorate every corner of the inn. Mina had an excellent appetite and seemed never to worry about her waistline.
I hoped something would bring us a turning point. If necessary, I would visit the captain's home again.
The soil samples we had collected were tested, and not a single box contained human remains. Van Helsing was not surprised by the result. He turned his attention to the local stray dogs.
Because of my warning, the villagers no longer let their children play outside and had deliberately begun culling the dogs. After dissecting them, Van Helsing discovered that many of their stomachs contained ground bees.
Bees always gave people the impression of being busy and lively, but they grew old too. Young bees and old bees were easy to distinguish: young bees were brightly colored, while old ones were dull and listless.
These old bees were despised by the younger swarm when they became too weak to work, eventually being driven from the colony. Unable to return to the hive, they became food for creatures such as lizards.
Ground bees were solitary. They laid eggs in soft soil and stored the materials needed for the eggs to hatch in their burrows. These dogs seemed to have