Hunters Of The Dusk tsods-7 Page 4
"I will," Mr. Tiny said smugly. "But let me make one thing clear — the encounters will only occur if the vampires choose to hunt the Lord of the Vampaneze. The three I name don't have to accept the challenge of hunting him down, or take responsibility for the future of the vampire clan. But if they don't, you're doomed, for in these three alone lies the ability to change that which is destined to be."
He slowly looked around the Hall, meeting the eyes of every vampire present, searching for signs of weakness and fear. Not one of us looked away or wilted in the face of such a dire charge. "Very well," he grunted. "One of the hunters is absent, so I'll not name him. If the other two head for the cave of Lady Evanna, they'll probably run into him along the way. If not, his chance to play an active part in the future will pass, and it will boil down to that lone pair."
"And they are…?" Paris asked tensely.
Mr. Tiny glanced over at me, and with a horrible sinking feeling in my gut, I guessed what was coming next. "The hunters must be Larten Crepsley and his assistant, Darren Shan," Mr. Tiny said simply, and as all eyes in the Hall turned to seek us out, I had the sense of invisible tumblers clicking into place, and knew my years of quiet security inside Vampire Mountain had come to an end.
CHAPTER SEVEN
THE POSSIBILITY of refusing the challenge never entered my thoughts. Six years of living among vampires had filled me with their values and beliefs. Any vampire would lay down his life for the good of the clan. Of course, this wasn't as simple as giving one's life — I had a mission to fulfill, and if I failed, all would suffer — but the principle was the same. I'd been chosen, and a vampire who's been chosen does not say 'no'.
There was a short debate, in which Paris told Mr. Crepsley and me that this was not official duty and we didn't have to agree to represent the clan — no shame would befall us if we refused to co-operate with Mr. Tiny. At the end of the debate, Mr. Crepsley stepped forward, red cloak snapping behind him like wings, and said, "I relish the chance to hunt down the Vampaneze Lord."
I stepped up after him, sorry I wasn't wearing my impressive blue cloak, and said in what I hoped was a brave tone, "Me too."
"The boy knows how to keep it short," Mr. Tiny murmured, winking at Harkat.
"What about the rest of us?" Mika asked. "I've spent five years hunting for that accursed Lord. I wish to accompany them."
"Aye! Me too!" a General in the crowd shouted, and soon everyone was bellowing at Mr. Tiny, seeking permission to join us in the hunt.
Mr. Tiny shook his head. "Three hunters must seek — no more, no less. Non-vampires may assist them, but if any of their kinsmen tag along, they shall fail."
Angry mutters greeted that statement.
"Why should we believe you?" Mika asked. "Surely ten stand a better chance than three, and twenty more than ten, and thirty—"
Mr. Tiny clicked his fingers. There was a sharp, snapping sound and dust fell from overhead. Looking up, I saw long jagged cracks appear in the ceiling of the Hall of Princes. Other vampires saw them too and cried out, alarmed.
"Would you, who has not seen three centuries, dare to tell me, who measures time in continental drifts, about the mechanisms of fate?" Mr. Tiny asked menacingly. He clicked his fingers again and the cracks spread. Chunks of the ceiling crumbled inwards. "A thousand vampaneze couldn't chip the walls of this Hall, yet I, by clicking my fingers, can bring it tumbling down." He lifted his fingers to click them again.
"No!" Mika shouted. "I apologize! I didn't mean to offend you!"
Mr. Tiny lowered his hand. "Think of this before crossing me again, Mika Ver Leth," he growled, then nodded at the Little People he'd brought with him, who headed for the doors of the Hall. "They'll patch the roof up before we leave," Mr. Tiny said. "But next time you anger me, I'll reduce this Hall to rubble, leaving you and your precious Stone of Blood to the whim of the vampaneze."
Blowing dust off his heart-shaped watch, Mr. Tiny beamed around the Hall again. "I take it we're decided — three it shall be?"
"Three," Paris agreed.
"Three," Mika muttered bleakly.
"As I said, non-vampires may — indeed, must — play a part, but for the next year no vampire should seek out any of the hunters, unless for reasons which have nothing to do with the search for the Vampaneze Lord. Alone they must stand and alone they must succeed or fail."
With that, he brought the meeting to a close. Dismissing Paris and Mika with an arrogant wave of his hand, he beckoned Mr. Crepsley and me forward, and grinned at us as he lay back on my throne. He kicked off one of his wellies while he was talking. He wasn't wearing socks, and I was shocked to see he had no toes — his feet were webbed at the ends, with six tiny claws jutting out like a cat's.
"Frightened, Master Shan?" he asked, eyes twinkling mischievously.
"Yes," I said, "but I'm proud to be able to help."
"What if you aren't any help?" he jeered. "What if you fail and damn the vampires to extinction?"
I shrugged. "What comes, we take," I said, echoing a saying which was common among the creatures of the night.
Mr. Tiny's smile faded. "I preferred you when you were less clever," he grumbled, then looked to Mr. Crepsley. "What about you? Scared by the weight of your responsibilities?"
"Yes," Mr. Crepsley answered.
"Think you might break beneath it?"
"I might," Mr. Crepsley said evenly.
Mr. Tiny pulled a face. "You two are no fun. It's impossible to get a rise out of you. Harkat!" he bellowed. Harkat approached automatically. "What do you think of this? Does the fate of the vampires bother you?"
"Yes," Harkat replied. "It does."
"You care for them?" Harkat nodded. "Hmmm." Mr. Tiny rubbed his watch, which glowed briefly, then touched the left side of Harkat's head. Harkat gasped and fell to his knees. "You've been having nightmares," Mr. Tiny noted, fingers still at Harkat's temple.
"Yes!" Harkat groaned.
"You want them to stop?"
"Yes."
Mr. Tiny let go of Harkat, who cried out, then gritted his sharp teeth and stood up straight. Small green tears of pain trickled from the corners of his eyes.
"It's time for you to learn the truth about yourself," Mr. Tiny said. "If you come with me, I'll reveal it and the nightmares will stop. If you don't, they'll continue and worsen, and within a year you'll be a screaming wreck."
Harkat trembled at that, but didn't rush to Mr. Tiny's side. "If I wait," he said, "will I have… another chance to learn… the truth?"
"Yes," Mr. Tiny said, "but you'll suffer much in the meantime, and I can't guarantee your safety. If you die before learning who you really are, your soul will be lost forever."
Harkat frowned uncertainly. "I have a feeling," he mumbled. "Something whispers to me—" he touched the left side of his chest "- here. I feel that I should go with Darren… and Larten."
"If you do, it will improve their chances of defeating the Vampaneze Lord," Mr. Tiny said. "Your participation isn't instrumental, but it could be important."
"Harkat," I said softly, "you don't owe us. You've already saved my life twice. Go with Mr. Tiny and learn the truth about yourself."
Harkat frowned. "I think that if I… leave you to learn the truth, the person I was… won't like what I've done." The Little Person spent a few more difficult seconds brooding about it, then squared up to Mr. Tiny. "I'll go with them. Right or wrong, I feel my place is… with the vampires. All else must wait."
"So be it," Mr. Tiny sniffed. "If you survive, our paths will cross again. If not…" His smile was withering.
"What of our search?" Mr. Crepsley asked. "You mentioned Lady Evanna. Do we start with her?"
"If you wish," Mr. Tiny said. "I can't and won't direct you, but that's where I would start. After that, follow your heart. Forget about the quest and go where you feel you belong. Fate will direct you as it pleases."
That was the end of our conversation. Mr. Tiny slipped away without a farewell, taking his Little
People (they'd completed their repair work while he was talking), no doubt anxious to make that fatal volcano of his the next day.
Vampire Mountain was in uproar that night. Mr. Tiny's visit and prophecy were debated and dissected at length. The vampires agreed that Mr. Crepsley and me had to leave on our own, to link up with the third hunter — whoever he might be — but were divided as to what the rest of them should do. Some thought that since the clan's future rested with three lone hunters, they should forget the war with the vampaneze, since it no longer seemed to serve any purpose. Most disagreed and said it would be crazy to stop fighting.
Mr. Crepsley led Harkat and me from the Hall shortly before dawn, leaving the arguing Princes and Generals behind, saying we needed to get a good day's rest. It was hard to sleep with Mr. Tiny's words echoing round my brain, but I managed to squeeze in a few hours.
We woke about three hours before sunset, ate a short meal and packed our meagre belongings (I took a spare set of clothes, some bottles of blood, and my diary). We said private goodbyes to Vanez and Seba — the old quartermaster was especially sad to see us go — then met Paris Skyle at the gate leading out of the Halls. He told us Mika was staying on to assist with the night-to-night running of the war. He looked very poorly as I shook his hand, and I had a feeling that he hadn't many years left — if our search kept us away from Vampire Mountain for a long period, this might be the last time I saw him.
"I'll miss you, Paris," I said, hugging him roughly after we'd shaken hands.
"I will miss you too, young Prince," he said, then squeezed me tight and hissed in my ear: "Find and kill him, Darren. There is a cold chill in my bones, and it is not the chill of old age. Mr. Tiny has spoken the truth — if the Vampaneze Lord comes into his full powers, I am sure we all shall perish."
"I'll find him," I vowed, locking gazes with the ancient Prince. "And if the chance falls to me to kill him, my aim will be true."
"Then may the luck of the vampires be with you," he said.
I joined Mr. Crepsley and Harkat. We saluted to those who'd gathered to see us off, then faced down the tunnels and set off. We moved quickly and surely, and within two hours had left the mountain and were jogging over open ground, beneath a clear night sky.
Our hunt for the Lord of the Vampaneze had begun!
CHAPTER EIGHT
IT WAS great to be back on the road. We might be walking into the heart of an inferno, and our companions would suffer immeasurably if we failed, but those were worries for the future. In those first few weeks all I could think about was how refreshing it was to stretch my legs and breathe clean air, not caged in with dozens of sweaty, smelly vampires.
I was in high spirits as we cut a path through the mountains by night. Harkat was very quiet and spent a lot of time mulling over what Mr. Tiny had said. Mr. Crepsley seemed as glum as ever, though I knew that underneath the gloomy facade he was as pleased to be out in the open as I was.
We struck a firm pace and kept to it, covering many kilometres over the course of each night, sleeping deeply by day beneath trees and bushes, or in caves. The cold was fierce when we set off, but as we wound our way down through the mountain range, the biting chill lessened. By the time we reached the lowlands we were as comfortable as a human would have been on a blustery autumn day.
We carried spare bottles of human blood, and fed on wild animals. It had been a long time since I hunted, and I was rusty to begin with, but I soon got back into the swing of it.
"This is the life, isn't it?" I noted one morning as we chewed on the roasted carcass of a deer. We didn't light a fire most days — we ate our meat raw — but it was nice to relax around a mound of blazing logs every once in a while.
"It is," Mr. Crepsley agreed.
"I wish we could go on like this forever."
The vampire smiled. "You are not in a hurry to return to Vampire Mountain?"
I pulled a face. "Being a Prince is a great honour, but it's not much fun."
"You have had a rough initiation," he said sympathetically. "Were we not at war, there would have been time for adventure. Most Princes wander the world for decades before settling down to royal duty. Your timing was unfortunate."
"Still, I can't complain," I said cheerfully. "I'm free now."
Harkat stirred up the fire and edged closer towards us. He hadn't said a lot since leaving Vampire Mountain, but now he lowered his mask and spoke. "I loved Vampire Mountain. It felt like home. I never felt so at ease before, even when I… was with the Cirque Du Freak. When this is over, if I have… the choice, I'll return."
"There is vampire blood in you," Mr. Crepsley said. He was joking, but Harkat took the statement seriously.
"There might be," he said. "I've often wondered if I was a vampire in… my previous life. That might explain why I was sent to Vampire Mountain… and why I fitted in so well. It could also explain the stakes… in my dreams."
Harkat's dreams often involved stakes. The ground would give way in his nightmares and he'd fall into a pit of stakes, or be chased by shadow men who carried stakes and drove them through his heart.
"Any fresh clues as to who you might have been?" I asked. "Did meeting Mr. Tiny jog your memory?"
Harkat shook his chunky, neckless head. "No further insights," he sighed.
"Why did Mr. Tiny not tell you the truth about yourself if it was time for you to learn?" Mr. Crepsley asked.
"I don't think it's as… simple as that," Harkat said. "I have to earn the truth. It's part of the… deal we made."
"Wouldn't it be weird if Harkat had been a vampire?" I remarked. "What if he'd been a Prince — would he still be able to open the doors of the Hall of Princes?"
"I don't think I was a Prince," Harkat chuckled, the corners of his wide mouth lifting in a gaping smile.
"Hey," I said, "if I can become a Prince, anyone can."
"True," Mr. Crepsley muttered, then ducked swiftly as I tossed a leg of deer at him.
Once clear of the mountains, we headed south-east and soon reached the outskirts of civilization. It was strange to see electric lights, cars and planes again. I felt as though I'd been living in the past and had stepped out of a time machine.
"It's so noisy," I commented one night as we passed through a busy town. We'd entered it to draw blood from humans, slicing them in their sleep with our nails, taking a small amount of blood, closing the cuts with Mr. Crepsley's healing spit, leaving them oblivious to the fact that they'd been fed upon. "So much music and laughter and shouting." My ears were ringing from the noise.
"Humans always chatter like monkeys," Mr. Crepsley said. "It is their way."
I used to object when he said things like that, but not any more. When I became Mr. Crepsley's assistant, I'd clung to the hope of returning to my old life. I'd dreamt of regaining my humanity and going home to my family and friends. No longer. My years in Vampire Mountain had rid me of my human desires. I was a creature of the night now — and content to be so.
The itching was getting worse. Before leaving town, I found a pharmacy and bought several anti-itching powders and lotions, which I rubbed into my flesh. The powders and lotions brought no relief. Nothing stopped the itching, and I scratched myself irritably as we journeyed to the cave of Lady Evanna.
Mr. Crepsley wouldn't say much about the woman we were going to meet, where she lived, whether she was a vampire or human, and why we were going to see her.
"You should tell me these things," I grumbled one morning as we made camp. "What if something happens to you? How would Harkat and me find her?"
Mr. Crepsley stroked the long scar running down the left side of his face — after all our years together, I still didn't know how he got it — and nodded thoughtfully. "You are right. I will draw a map before nightfall."
"And tell us who she is?"
He hesitated. "That is harder to explain. It might be best coming from her own lips. Evanna tells different people different things. She might not object to you knowing the truth —
but then again, she might."
"Is she an inventor?" I pressed. Mr. Crepsley owned a collection of pots and pans which folded up into tiny bundles, making them easier to carry. He'd told me that Evanna had made them.
"She sometimes invents," he said. "She is a woman of many talents. Much of her time is spent breeding frogs."
"Excuse me?" I blinked.
"It is her hobby. Some people breed horses, dogs or cats. Evanna breeds frogs."
"How can she breed frogs?" I snorted sceptically.
"You will find out." Then he leant forward and tapped my knee. "Whatever you say, do not call her a witch."
"Why would I call her a witch?" I asked.
"Because she is one — sort of."
"We're going to meet a witch!" Harkat snapped worriedly.
"That troubles you?" Mr. Crepsley asked.
"Sometimes in my dreams… there's a witch. I've never seen her face — not clearly — and I'm not sure… if she's good or bad. There are times when I run to her for help, and times… when I run away, afraid."
"You haven't mentioned that before," I said.
Harkat's smile was shaky. "With all the dragons, stakes and shadow men… what's one little witch?"
The mention of dragons reminded me of something he'd said when we met Mr. Tiny. He'd called him 'the dragon master'. I asked Harkat about this but he couldn't remember saying it. "Although," he mused, "I sometimes see Mr. Tiny in my dreams, riding the… backs of dragons. Once he tore the brain out of one and… tossed it at me. I reached to catch it but… woke before I could."
We thought about that image a long time. Vampires place a lot of importance on dreams. Many believe that dreams act as links to the past or future, and that much can be learnt from them. But Harkat's dreams didn't seem to have any bearing on reality, and in the end Mr. Crepsley and me dismissed them, rolled over and slept. Harkat didn't — he stayed awake, green eyes glowing faintly, putting off sleep as long as he could, avoiding the dragons, stakes, witches and other perils of his troubled nightmares.