by Darren Shan
"Brave words," I grunted sourly.
"The truth," Vancha insisted. "Would you prefer to die at the hands of the Vampaneze Lord, when hope is still on our side, or survive and bear witness to the downfall of the clan?" I didn't reply, so Vancha went on. "If the predictions are true, and we fail, I don't want to be around for the end. It would be a terrible tragedy, and would madden anyone who saw it.
"Believe me," Vancha said, "the two who die in that eventuality will be fortunate. We shouldn't worry about dying — it's living we have to fear if we fail!"
I didn't get much sleep that day, thinking about what Vancha had said. I doubt if any of us slept much, except Evanna, who snored even louder than the Prince.
Vancha was right. If we failed, the one who survived would have the worst time of all. He'd have to watch the vampires perish, and bear the burden of blame. If we were to fail, death along the way was the best any of us could hope for.
Our spirits had lifted when we rose that evening. We were no longer afraid of what lay ahead, and instead of talking negatively, we discussed our route. "Mr Tiny said to follow our hearts," Mr Crepsley reminded us. "He said fate would lead us if we placed ourselves in its hands."
"You don't think we should try tracking down the Vampaneze Lord?" Vancha asked.
"Our people have spent six years seeking him, without success," Mr Crepsley said. "Of course we must keep our eyes peeled, but otherwise I believe we should go about our business as if he did not exist."
"I don't like it," Vancha grumbled. "Fate's a cruel mistress. What if destiny' doesn't lead us to him? Do you want to report back in a year and say, 'Sorry, we didn't run into the blighter, bad luck, what?'"
"Mr Tiny said to follow our hearts," Mr Crepsley repeated stubbornly.
Vancha threw his hands into the air. "OK — we'll do it your way. But you two will have to pick the course — as many women have attested, I'm a boundless cad who doesn't have a heart."
Mr Crepsley smiled thinly. "Darren? Where do you want to go?"
I started to say I didn't care, then stopped as an image flashed through my thoughts — a picture of a snake-boy sticking an extra long tongue up his nose. "I'd like to see how Evra's doing," I said.
Mr Crepsley nodded approvingly. "Good. Just last night I was wondering what my old friend Hibernius Tall was up to. Harkat?"
"Sounds good to me," Harkat agreed.
"So be it." Facing Vancha, Mr Crepsley said in as imperious a tone as he could muster, "Sire, we head for the Cirque Du Freak."
And so our direction was decided and the dice of destiny were cast.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
MR CREPSLEY was able to tap into Mr Tall's thoughts and pinpoint the position of the Cirque Du Freak. The travelling circus was relatively near, and it would take us only three weeks to link up with it if we forced the pace.
After a week, we hit civilization again. As we passed a small town one night, I asked Mr Crepsley why we didn't hop on a bus or train, which would get us to the Cirque Du Freak much quicker. "Vancha does not approve of human modes of transport," he said. "He has never been in a car or on a train."
"Never!" I asked the barefooted Prince.
"I wouldn't even spit on a car," he said. "Awful things. The shape, the noise, the smell." He shivered.
"What about planes?"
"If the gods of the vampires meant for us to fly," he said, "they'd have given us wings."
"What about you, Evanna?" Harkat asked. "Have you ever flown?"
"Only on a broomstick," she said. I didn't know if she was joking or not.
"And you, Larten?" Harkat asked.
"Once, long ago, when the Wright brothers were just getting going." He paused. "It crashed. Luckily, it had not been flying very high, so I was not seriously injured. But these new contraptions, which soar above the clouds… I think not."
"Afraid?" I smirked.
"Once bitten, twice shy," he replied.
We were a strange group, no doubt about it. We had almost nothing in common with humans. They were creatures of the technological age, but we belonged to the past — vampires knew nothing of computers, satellite dishes, microwave ovens, or any other modern conveniences; we travelled by foot most of the time, had simple tastes and pleasures, and hunted as animals. Where humans sent aeroplanes to wage their wars and fought by pressing buttons, we battled with swords and our hands. Vampires and humans might share the same planet, but we lived in different worlds.
I awoke one afternoon to the sound of Harkat's moans. He was having another nightmare and was tossing feverishly about on the grassy bank where he'd fallen asleep. I leant over to wake him. "Hold," Evanna said. The witch was in the lower branches of a tree, observing Harkat with unseemly interest. A squirrel was exploring her head of long hair, and another was chewing on the ropes she used as clothes.
"He's having a nightmare," I said.
"He has them often?"
"Almost every time he sleeps. I'm supposed to wake him if I hear him having one." I bent to shake him awake.
"Hold," Evanna said again, jumping down. She shuffled over and touched the three middle fingers of her right hand to Harkat's forehead. She closed her eyes and stood there a minute, then opened them and let go. "Dragons," she said. "Bad dreams. His time of insight is upon him. Did Desmond say nothing about revealing who Harkat was in his previous life?"
"Yes, but Harkat chose to come with us, to search for the Vampaneze Lord."
"Noble but foolish," she mused.
"If you told him who he was, would that ease his nightmares?"
"No. He must learn the truth himself. I'd make things worse if I meddled. But there is a way to temporarily ease his pain."
"How?" I asked.
"One who speaks the language of the dragons could help."
"Where will we find someone like that?" I snorted, then paused. "Can you…?" I left the question hanging.
"Not I," she said. "I can talk to many animals, but not dragons. Only those who have bonded with the flying reptiles can speak their language." She stood. "You could help."
"Me?" I frowned. "I haven't bonded with a dragon. I've never even seen one. I thought they were imaginary."
"In this time and place, they are," Evanna agreed. "But there are other times and places, and bonds can be formed unknown."
That didn't make sense, but if I could somehow help Harkat, I would. "Tell me what I have to do," I said.
Evanna smiled approvingly, then told me to lay my hands on Harkat's head and close my eyes. "Focus," she said. "We need to find an image for you to fix upon. How about the Stone of Blood? Can you picture it, red and throbbing, the blood of the vampires flowing through its mysterious veins?"
"Yes," I said, bringing the stone effortlessly to mind.
"Keep thinking of it. In a few minutes you'll experience unpleasant sensations, and maybe catch glimpses of Harkat's nightmares. Ignore them and stay focused on the Stone. I will do the rest."
I did as she said. At first it was easy, but then I began to feel strange. The air around me seemed to get hotter and it became harder to breathe. I heard the beating of immense wings, then caught a glimpse of something dropping from a blood-red sky. I cringed, almost let go of Harkat, but remembered Evanna's advice and forced myself to focus on the image of the Stone of Blood.
I sensed something huge land behind me, and felt hot eyes boring into my back, but I didn't turn or shrink away. I reminded myself that this was a dream, an illusion, and thought about the Stone.
Harkat appeared before me in the vision, stretched upon a bed of stakes, which impaled him all over. He was alive but in incredible pain. He couldn't see me — the tips of two stakes poked out of the sockets where his eyes should have been.
"His pain is nothing to what you will feel," someone said, and looking up I saw a figure of shadows, elusive and dark, hovering close by.
"Who are you?" I gasped, momentarily forgetting about the Stone.
"I am the Lord of the Crim
son Night," he replied mockingly.
"The Lord of the Vampaneze?" I asked.
"Of them and all others," the shadow man jeered. "I have been waiting for you, Prince of the Damned. Now I have you — and I won't let go!" The shadow man darted forward, his fingers ten long claws of dark menace. Red eyes glowed in the black pit that was his face. For a terrifying moment I thought he was going to grab and devour me. Then a tiny voice — Evanna's — whispered, "It's just a dream. He can't hurt you, not yet, not if you focus on the Stone."
Shutting my eyes within the dream, I ignored the charge of the shadow man and concentrated on the pulsing Stone of Blood. There was a hissing scream and I felt as though a wave of frothing madness had broken over me. Then the nightmare faded and I was back in the real world.
"You can open your eyes now," Evanna said. My eyes snapped open. I let go of Harkat and wiped my hands over my face, reacting as though I'd been touched by something dirty. "You did well," Evanna congratulated me.
"That… thing" I gasped. "What was it?"
"The Lord of Destruction," she said. "The Master of Shadows. The would-be ruler of the eternal night."
"He was so powerful, so evil."
She nodded. "He will be."
"Will be?" I echoed.
"What you saw was a shade of the future. The Lord of the Shadows has not yet come into his own, but he will, eventually. This cannot be avoided, and you should not worry about it. All that matters for the time being is that your friend will sleep untroubled now."
I glanced down at Harkat, who was resting peacefully. "He's OK?"
"He will be, for a time," Evanna said. "The nightmares will return, and when they do he'll have to face his past and learn who he was, or succumb to madness. But for now he can sleep soundly, unafraid."
She headed back to her tree.
"Evanna," I stopped her with a soft call. "This Lord of the Shadows… There was something familiar about him. I couldn't make out his face, but I felt I knew him."
"So you should," she whispered in reply. She hesitated, pondering how much to tell me. "What I say now is between you and me," she warned. "It must go no further. You can tell no one, not even Larten or Vancha."
"I won't," I promised.
Keeping her back to me, she said, "The future is dark, Darren. There are two paths, and both are winding and troubled, paved with the souls of the dead. In one of the possible futures, the Vampaneze Lord has become the Master of Shadows and ruler of the dark. In the other…"
She paused, and her head tilted backwards, as though she was staring up at the sky for an answer. "In the other, the Lord of the Shadows is you."
And she departed, leaving me confused and shaken, dearly wishing that Harkat's moans hadn't woken me up.
A couple of nights later, we hooked up with the Cirque Du Freak.
Mr Tall and his band of magical performers were playing outside a small village, in an abandoned church. The show was drawing to a close when we arrived, so we slipped inside and watched the finale from the back. Sive and Seersa — the twisting twins — were onstage, twirling around each other and performing incredible acrobatic stunts. Mr Tall came on after them, dressed in a dark suit, with his customary red hat and gloves, and said the show was over. People began to leave, many muttering about the weak finish, when two snakes slid down from the rafters, sending waves of fear rippling through the crowd.
I grinned when I saw the snakes. This was how most of the shows drew to a close. People were tricked into thinking the show was over, then the snakes appeared and gave the crowd one last scare. Before the serpents could do any damage, Evra Von — their master — would step in and calm them down.
Sure enough, as the snakes were about to slither on to the floor, Evra stepped forward. But he wasn't alone — there was a small child with him, who went to one of the snakes and controlled it as Evra controlled the other. The kid was a new addition. I assumed Mr Tall had picked him up on his travels.
After Evra and the boy had wrapped the snakes around themselves, Mr Tall came on again and said the show was over for real. We kept to the shadows while the crowd streamed past, chattering with excitement. Then, as Evra and the child unwound and brushed themselves down, I moved. "Evra Von!" I roared.
Evra whirled around, startled. "Who's there?" I didn't answer, but walked forward briskly. His eyes widened with astonished delight. "Darren?" he yelled, and threw his arms around me. I hugged him tightly, ignoring the feel of his slippery scales, delighted to see him after so many years. "Where have you been?" he cried when we let go of one another. There were tears of happiness in his eyes — mine were wet too.
"Vampire Mountain," I said lightly. "How about you?"
"All over the world." He studied me curiously. "You've grown."
"Only recently. And not as much as you." Evra was a man now. He was only a few years older than me, and we'd looked much the same age when I first joined the Cirque Du Freak, but now he could have passed for my father.
"Good evening, Evra Von," Mr Crepsley said, stepping forward to shake hands.
"Larten," Evra nodded. "It's been a long time. I'm glad to see you."
Mr Crepsley stood to one side and introduced our companions. "I would like you to meet Vancha March, Lady Evanna, and Harkat Mulds, whom I believe you already know."
"Hello," Vancha grunted.
"Greetings," Evanna smiled.
"Hi, Evra," Harkat said.
Evra blinked. "It spoke!" he gasped.
"Harkat speaks a lot these nights," I grinned.
"It has a name?"
"It has," Harkat said. "And 'it' would like very much… to be called 'he'."
Evra didn't know what to say. When I'd lived with him, we'd spent a lot of our time gathering food for the Little People, and never once had one of them said a word. We thought they couldn't speak. Now here I was with a Little Person — the limping one, whom we'd nicknamed Lefty — acting as if his being able to talk was no big deal.
"Welcome back to the Cirque Du Freak, Darren," somebody said, and looking up I found myself face to belly button with Mr Tall. I'd forgotten how quickly and silently the owner of the Cirque could move.
"Mr Tall," I replied, nodding politely (he didn't like to shake hands).
He greeted the others by name, including Harkat. When Harkat returned the greeting, Mr Tall didn't look in the least surprised. "Would you care to eat?" he asked us.
"That would be delightful," Evanna answered. "And I would have a word or two with you afterwards, Hibernius. There are things we must discuss."
"Yes," he agreed without batting an eyelid. "There are."
As we filed out of the church, I fell in step with Evra to discuss old times. He was carrying his snake over his shoulders. The boy who'd performed with Evra caught up with us as we exited, dragging the other snake behind him like a toy. "Darren," Evra said, "I'd like you to meet Shancus."
"Hello, Shancus," I said, shaking the boy's hand.
"'Lo," he replied. He had the same yellow, green hair, narrow eyes, and multicoloured scales as Evra. "Are you the Darren Shan I was named after?" he asked.
I glanced sideways at Evra. "Am I?"
"Yes," he laughed. "Shancus was my first-born. I thought it would be—"
"First-born?" I interrupted. "He's yours? You're his father?"
"I certainly hope so," Evra grinned.
"But he's so big! So old!"
Shancus preened proudly at the remark.
"He'll be five soon," Evra said. "He's large for his age. I started him out in the act a couple of months ago. He's a natural."
This was bizarre! Of course, Evra was old enough to be married with kids, and there was no reason for me to be surprised by the news — but it seemed like only a few months since we'd been hanging out together as teenagers, wondering what life would be like when we grew up.
"You've got other children?" I asked.
"A couple," he said. "Urcha — three — and Lilia, who'll be two next month."
"Are they all snake-children?"
"Urcha isn't. He's upset — he wants scales too — but we try to make him feel as loved and extraordinary as the others."
"We being…?"
"Me and Merla. You don't know her. She joined the show shortly after you left — ours was a whirlwind romance. She can detach her ears and use them as mini-boomerangs. You'll like her."
Laughing, I said I was sure I would, then followed Evra and Shancus after the others, to dinner.
It was wonderful to be back with the Cirque Du Freak. I'd been edgy and moody for the last week and a half, thinking about what Evanna had said, but my fears faded within an hour of returning to the circus fold. I met many old friends — Hans Hands, Rhamus Twobellies, Sive and Seersa,
Cormac Limbs and Gertha Teeth. I also saw the Wolf Man, but he wasn't quite as welcome a sight as the others, and I kept clear of him as much as possible.
Truska — who could grow a beard at will, then suck the hairs back inside her face — was there too, and delighted to see me. She greeted me in broken English. She hadn't been able to speak the language six years ago, but Evra had been teaching her and she was making good progress. "It is hard," she said as we mingled with the others in a large, run-down school which was serving as the Cirque's base. "I not good at language. But Evra is patient and I slowly learning. I make mistakes still, but—"
"We all make mistakes, gorgeous," Vancha interrupted, popping up beside us. "And yours was not making an honest vampire of me when you had the chance!" He wrapped his arms around Truska and kissed her. She laughed when he let go and waved a finger at him.
"Naughty!" she giggled.
"You two know each other, I take it," I commented dryly.
"Oh, yes," Vancha leered. "We're old friends. Many's the night we went skinny-dipping together in oceans deep and blue, eh, Truska?"
"Vancha," she tutted. "You promised not of that to mention!"
"So I did," he chuckled, then began talking with her in her native tongue. They sounded like a pair of seals barking at each other.
