by Darren Shan
Arrow nodded gruffly at Vancha, ran a cold eye over Larten, then sniffed. “Sarah will have dinner ready soon. You’re welcome to share it with us.”
Larten and Vancha exchanged a glance, then moved forward. Vancha looked relaxed, but Larten noted the way his fingers stayed by his shurikens. He made sure his knives were within easy reach and kept close to Vancha, ready to back him up if they were attacked.
The woman inside the house — Sarah — looked up with surprise when Arrow stomped in and said, “We have visitors.” She started to smile curiously when the odd pair entered. Then Arrow said, “They’re vampires.” Her smile vanished in an instant and she set the table in silence.
Arrow laid the bucket close to the fire, kissed Sarah again, then sat and nodded for Vancha and Larten to join him. “Sarah’s my wife,” he said quietly, his hands clenched into fists. “Where does the clan stand on such issues these nights?”
“You married a human?” Vancha frowned.
“I married a beautiful, loving woman,” Arrow corrected him. Larten saw a smile dart across Sarah’s lips as she half-turned to look at her husband. “Now answer my question.”
Vancha scratched an armpit. “You weren’t this grumpy before. The soft life doesn’t agree with you.”
“It agreed with me nicely until you and your assistant turned up,” Arrow said.
“Larten’s not my assistant, just a friend.”
“No matter. I’ve asked twice already, Vancha. Don’t make me —”
“The Generals aren’t interested,” Vancha said. “We don’t approve of vampires mating with humans, but it’s been a long time since we banned such unions, so why are you worried?”
“Times change,” Arrow noted. “I wasn’t sure what the current mood was. When you turned up, after I’d asked to be left alone, I thought —”
“Slow down,” Vancha interrupted. “Who did you ask? You dropped out of sight without a word to anyone. That’s why I came.”
Arrow frowned. “I told Azis Bendetta of my decision when I chose to abandon my studies and not become a General.”
Vancha sighed. “Azis is dead.”
“When?”
“Four years or more.”
“Even in death may he be triumphant,” Arrow muttered, making the death’s touch sign. He looked sad as he lowered his hand, but relieved too. “He must have died before he delivered my message.”
“Aye.” Vancha was smiling now.
“So I’m not in any trouble?”
“No.”
Arrow shook his head and chuckled, then boomed,
“Sarah! Ale and warm milk for our guests.”
“I’ll take mine cold, thanks,” Vancha laughed, then leaned forward and clapped Arrow’s shoulder. When Larten saw that, he relaxed and smiled at Sarah as she passed him a mug of ale. When no one was looking, he shifted his knives around to the side. This wasn’t to be a night for fighting after all.
Arrow’s story was short and simple. He had met Sarah and fall en in love. He’d told her the truth about himself early in their relationship, that he was a barren, bloodsucking night creature who would live for hundreds of years.
“His sterility was the hardest thing to accept,” Sarah said. She had a soft voice and a shy smile. “I wasn’t worried about the vampire part — I could tel he wasn’t evil — and I’m glad he’ll live so long. But not being able to have children…”
“We’ll probably take in some orphans one day,” Arrow said, rubbing a finger down Sarah’s arm. “But at the moment we’re still enjoying being a couple. The novelty hasn’t worn off yet. We’ll start a family in a few years, aye?”
“Aye,” Sarah giggled.
It wasn’t unheard of for a vampire to take a human mate, but usually only Cubs crossed that divide.
“Five years ago I’d have said you were crazy if you’d told me this would happen,” Arrow insisted. “I didn’t approve of those who mated outside the —”
“Arrow…” Sarah said warningly.
“Sorry. Those who married outside the clan.”
“What’s wrong with mating?” Vancha asked.
“Animals mate,” Sarah said frostily. “Humans marry.”
“But we’re neither,” Vancha noted.
“You’re more human than animal,” Sarah said. “At least Arrow and Larten are.” She cocked an eyebrow at the odd-looking, green-haired General and he hooted with delight. To Vancha, an insult from a beautiful woman counted as a twisted compliment.
“Anyway,” Arrow went on, “I was content as a vampire. I never meant to look for a human mate — wife,” he corrected himself quickly as Sarah narrowed her eyes. “But we met while I was recovering from a wound and…” He shrugged.
“… you lived happily ever after,” Vancha finished with a smile. Then his smile faded. “Except you won’t, will you? Forgive me for speaking bluntly, Sarah, but human lives are short compared to ours. Do you plan to let Arrow blood you?”
“No,” Sarah said with conviction. “I love the sun too much to hide from it. I’d rather have a short life of days than centuries of nights.”
“So what happens when your heart gives out and Arrow has to stick you in a hole to rot?” Vancha asked.
“As diplomatic as ever,” Arrow said drily, sharing a sad look with his wife.
“That worries me,” Sarah whispered, grasping Arrow’s hand. “I almost didn’t marry him because I don’t want to leave him like that, but…”
“The future will bring what it brings,” Arrow grunted. “There are no guarantees in life. I might die before her, of disease or an accident. If I don’t, I will grieve as any husband grieves when his wife dies. Then… I’m not sure. If we have children, I’ll finish rearing them. If we have grandchildren, I might stay and watch them grow. If not, or after that… who knows?”
“The clan will welcome you back if you choose to return,” Vancha said. “We won’t cut you off just because you fell in love. You can finish your training — you were only months away from your final test, and you know we all thought highly of you.”
“That’s kind of you, but I can’t see myself ever becoming a General now. Maybe that will change, but I doubt it. Perhaps, if I outlive her, I’ll just sit by Sarah’s grave, drink no blood and wait to join her.”
“You’ll do no such thing!” Sarah barked. “If you do, and there’s a Paradise, I’ll make your life a misery for the rest of eternity.”
Arrow leaned forward and kissed her flushed forehead. “Whatever you say, my dear,” he murmured.
They stayed up late, eating, drinking, chatting. Sarah went to bed a few hours before sunrise and then it was just the vampires. When they were alone, they spoke of the clan. Vancha told Arrow about Azis Bendetta’s death and brought him up to date with all the latest intrigues and happenings.
“The anti-vampaneze brigade is going strong,” he said at one point. “The fools are spoiling for a war. As if one wasn’t enough.”
“Do you really think it might come to that?” Arrow asked, alarmed.
“No,” Vancha said. “The Princes know that war would be catastrophic. One or two might be swayed if the situation was different, but as long as there are the likes of Paris and Chok Yamada to talk sense to them, the truce will hold.”
They slept in Arrow’s house that day — Vancha reluctantly made his bed on the soft (by his standards) wooden floor, not wanting to offend his host by sleeping outside — and ate with him and Sarah the following night. After their meal, Vancha wished the pair the luck of the vampires, then he and Larten took their leave.
Larten was thoughtful as they slipped through the forest. He’d never considered returning to the human fold as Arrow had. Part of him liked the idea of finding a mate, marrying, adopting children. He’d thought that he had left that world behind forever, but now he saw that it could be his again if he truly wanted it.
“That’s a waste of a good vampire,” Vancha sighed, disturbing Larten’s train of thought. “Arrow
was a great fighter. He could have gone far.”
“But he is happy where he is,” Larten noted.
Vancha shrugged. “Since when did vampires care about happiness? A creature of the night feels satisfied when all is well with his world. That’s nature’s way. Happiness is a human folly. Vampires who seek it usually come to no good.”
“That is a cynical way of looking at life,” Larten said.
“I cal it like I see it,” Vancha huffed. “If Arrow had taken a vampiress for a mate, that would be different. But marrying a human…” He shook his head, then chuckled. “Mind you, having cast my eye over the vampiresses at the last Council, I can’t blame him. They’re a grim lot, aren’t they? Fine fighters, but you wouldn’t want to kiss any of them!”
“I do not think that someone in your position can be too particular,” Larten said.
“What are you talking about?” Vancha frowned. “I’d be a first-rate catch. No woman could go wrong with a specimen like me.” To prove his point, he spat into his palm and wiped phlegm into his scalp. “I mean, seriously, what lady of taste could resist a shiny green head of hair like mine?”
Chapter Seventeen
Soon after their meeting with Arrow, Vancha was summoned to Vampire Mountain on business. Larten chose not to travel with him. They made vague plans to meet up again, but their paths took them elsewhere and several years passed without any contact.
Larten spent those years falling back into the dark pit from which Vancha had briefly rescued him. His time with the General had refired his love for the clan, reminding him why he’d agreed to become Seba’s assistant in the first place. But he still didn’t want to return to Vampire Mountain and complete his training. Not yet. He had a sense that he wasn’t finished with the human world, that until he worked whatever was troubling him out of his system, he would never know peace.
One night as he glumly considered his options — trying to pick a country or city he hadn’t visited before — he found himself thinking about Lady Evanna. He hadn’t thought of the witch in a long time. He’d meant to take advantage of her offer to visit her at home, but it had slipped his mind.
He knew instantly that this was what he craved. Something different, a place part of neither the human nor vampire world. He had no idea where Evanna lived, but he was sure he could find her. She’d given him that ability. Al he had to do was set off and his feet would lead him.
It was a long trek. He had meant to use trains and carriages, but whenever he got on one he lost track of where he was going. Flitting disoriented him too. Evanna’s directions only revealed themselves when he was on foot, so he had to abandon the easy alternatives and walk. But the path wasn’t difficult and it was a pleasant time of year. He enjoyed the journey more than any he had undertaken recently.
Finally, months after setting out, he arrived at a small hill in a clearing. There was a cave near the base of the hill and a pond farther down. Larten didn’t see the mouth of the cave the first time he looked. If he hadn’t felt certain that this was the place, he would have walked by. But when he forced himself to peer harder, he saw the cave clearly and went towards it.
There were lots of frogs by the rim of the pond, croaking noisily. Some were oddly colored and a few had strange inklike markings on their heads and backs. Larten decided to investigate further and set out to catch one of the frogs.
“I wouldn’t do that,” someone said as he crept towards the pond. Larten looked up and spotted a girl no more than twelve or thirteen years old. She was carrying a bucket and staring at him seriously.
“They’re poisonous.”
“Poisonous frogs?” Larten asked dubiously.
“Sacs along their tongues,” the girl said. “If they hit your skin, they’ll break and poison will seep in. Death within minutes, even if you’re a vampire.”
“You know what I am?”
The girl nodded. “My Lady has been expecting you.” She pulled a face and shook the bucket. “That’s why I’m dragging this. Evanna said you’d want a hot bath when you arrived, so I’ve been fetching water for the last couple of hours.”
“My apologies,” Larten said. “I can carry that for you if you like.”
The girl smiled shyly. “That’s all right. I can manage.”
They chatted as they walked to the cave. The girl was called Malora. She couldn’t remember her surname — Evanna had taken her as an apprentice when she was five or six and much of her early life was a mystery.
“Did your parents let Evanna take you, or did they sell you to her?” Larten asked.
“They didn’t sell me,” Malora huffed. “I’m not a slave, even if my Lady treats me like one much of the time.”
Larten smiled. “I have heard such tales of woe before. Does Arra Sails still serve here?”
“Never heard of her,” Malora said. “Was she one of Evanna’s apprentices?”
“Aye. She did not like her mistress any more than you seem to.”
“Nobody does,” Malora snorted. “She had four other girls when I came. I’m the only one left, and I don’t think I’ll hang around much longer either. As soon as I find someone to escort me safely back to the normal world, I’m gone!”
Larten chuckled. The girl was young but feisty, like Arra had been. It was a pity she wasn’t older — maybe he would have had more success wooing her than he’d had with the fiery Miss Sails.
As they neared the cave, Evanna appeared. She looked exactly as she had the last time he’d seen her. She hadn’t changed or aged. Her hair was long and dirty, she still wore ropes, and her nails were cut in the same unusual fashion.
“Welcome, wanderer.” She curtsied before Larten, then hugged him hard. She didn’t pick him off the ground, but she did pinch his cheek. “I thought you were never going to pay me a visit,” she chided him. “Come — the bath is ready.”
Larten frowned. “What makes you think I am desperate to have a bath?”
“It’s not for you, fool,” she snorted. “Don’t you remember what you said when we last parted?” He stared at her blankly. “You promised to scrub my back,” she reminded him, and as he recalled that brash boast, his face dropped and his cheeks turned several shades redder than they had when she’d pinched him.
Larten spent the next few nights with the Lady of the Wilds, Malora always in close attendance, although the apprentice didn’t say much, so he often forgot she was there. The vampire and witch sparred — she enjoyed testing herself in battle against him, although he was sure she could have flattened him with a flick of a wrist if she’d wished — and she treated him to a variety of vegetarian dishes. He had been skeptical of the food at first, but Evanna had surprised him with a variety of extraordinary concoctions. It wasn’t enough to sway Larten away from meat, even though she kept urging him to put his carnivorous side behind him, but he wouldn’t turn up his nose at vegetables and fruit again.
Evanna had some news of Seba and Wester, which she shared. It was all minor — reports of changes Seba had made in his role as quartermaster, news that Wester was close to becoming a guard — but Larten lapped up the tidbits.
In return Larten told Evanna of his indecision. It was good to get the doubts and regrets off his chest, to admit how sorry he felt about the way he’d spoken to Seba, bemoan the years he had wasted and wonder aloud at what the future held. He asked her for advice, but she was reluctant to give any.
“When it comes to the future, I have to be careful,” she said. “I have the gift of foresight — I see things that have not yet happened — so I can’t interfere.”
“Have you seen my future?” Larten asked eagerly.
“Parts of it,” she said cagily. “I try not to learn too much about the destinies of those I like. It’s not nice knowing how much time a friend has left, the hardships they’ll face, the pain they’ll suffer.”
“You see hardship and suffering in my future?” Larten asked quietly.
“I was speaking in general terms,” she corrected
him. “We all suffer one way or another. In your case…” She seemed set to reveal something and he leaned forward eagerly. Then she paused and cocked her head. Larten thought he heard a faint ticking noise — a watch perhaps — but he couldn’t place it.
“Destiny watches over all of us,” she said softly. “But some catch its eye more than others.” She gazed at Malora and her expression was troubled. Then her head swung towards the mouth of the cave. By the way her face creased, Larten thought that somebody must be lurking there. But he could see no one, and moments later the witch waved away her worries.
“This is not the time to worry about what the future might bring,” she said. “Let us drink and be merry. Your fate will reveal itself in due course, as it always does. But muse on this the next time you fret about your path — we always travel the way we must. You might think that you have strayed, but no one ever steps from the path of destiny. Your doubts have always been waiting for you. Accept them, deal with them, and you will find your way to that which destiny requires of you.
“For better or for worse,” she finished glumly and would say no more about it, leaving Larten to puzzle over her strange mutterings for a long time to come.
That night Larten took Evanna’s advice to drink and be merry a little too closely to heart. Ale was his tipple of choice, but he had tried most alcoholic brews in his time. Since Evanna preferred wine, he drank it with her, even though she warned him that it was stronger than the wines he was familiar with.
“I can drink any man under the table,” Larten laughed. “And any vampire too.”
“What about a sorceress?” Evanna asked.
“I will give it a good try,” he winked, toasting her health and asking Malora to refill his glass.
In a light mood, Evanna drank more than usual, and although she could never get drunk — it was physically impossible for one of her kind — she relaxed to the point where she wasn’t thinking clearly. She laughed at Larten’s jokes and smiled when he flattered her. The flattery was nothing new, but her response was different. Larten began to think that she might be warming to his advances. The more he drank, the surer he became that the Lady of the Wilds was falling for his charms. She would become his mate and they’d have many powerful children. He wouldn’t have to worry about his future then — every vampire would idolize him, regardless of whether he’d completed his training or not.
