The place appeared to have been a windmill in a past life, the exterior repaired and patched together with spare scraps of metal. At the very top, a giant metal contraption that looked like a weathervane but clearly was not hung motionless in the breeze. Nathan squinted up at it. “Is that a lightning rod?” He followed a thick tangle of wires down from the roof to… “Are those graves?” Pulling Nathan onward, Vlad told him, “Don’t worry about it!” It was only when they were outside a sturdy door which had definitely had a pitchfork embedded in it at some point, Vlad finally let go of Nathan’s
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