The Vampire's Assistant and Other Tales from the Cirque Du Freak

by Darren Shan

  The road was really curvy. After the fifth turn, we finally spotted the Cirque Du Freak, nestled in a clearing by the banks of a river. It was quiet — everyone was sleeping, I imagined — and if we’d been in a car and not looking for the vans and tents, it would have been easy to miss.

  It was a weird place for the circus to be. There was no hall or big tent for the freaks to perform in. I figured this must be a pit stop between two towns.

  Mr. Crepsley weaved between the vans and cars with confidence. He knew exactly where he was going. I followed, less sure of myself, remembering the night I crept past the freaks and stole Madam Octa.

  Mr. Crepsley stopped at a long silver van and knocked on the door. It opened almost immediately and the towering figure of Mr. Tall appeared. His eyes looked darker than ever in the dim light. If I hadn’t known better, I would have sworn he had no eyeballs, only two black, empty spaces.

  “Oh, it’s you,” he said, voice low, lips hardly moving. “I thought I felt you searching for me.” He craned over Mr. Crepsley and looked down to where I was shaking. “I see you’ve brought the boy.”

  “May we come in?” Mr. Crepsley asked.

  “Of course. What is it one is supposed to say to you vampires?” He smiled. “Enter of your own free will?”

  “Something like that,” Mr. Crepsley replied, and from the smile on his face, I knew it was an old joke between them.

  We went in the van and sat down. It was pretty bare inside, just a few shelves with posters and pamphlets for the Cirque, the tall red hat and gloves I’d seen Mr. Tall wear before, a couple of knickknacks, and a hide-away bed.

  “I didn’t expect you back so soon, Larten,” Mr. Tall said. Even when he was sitting down he looked enormous.

  “A swift return had not been on the agenda, Hibernius.” Hibernius? That was a weird name. Still, it fit him somehow. Hibernius Tall. It had a strange ring to it.

  “Did you run into trouble?” Mr. Tall asked.

  “No,” Mr. Crepsley said. “Darren was not happy.

  I decided he would be better off here, among those of his own kind.”

  “I see.” Mr. Tall studied me curiously. “You have come a long way since I saw you last, Darren Shan,” he said.

  “I liked it better where I was,” I grumbled. “Then why did you leave?” he asked.

  I glared at him. “You know why,” I said coldly. He nodded slowly.

  “Is it okay if we stay?” Mr. Crepsley asked.

  “Of course,” Mr. Tall replied immediately. “Delighted to have you back, actually. We’re a bit under-staffed at the moment. Alexander Ribs, Sive and Seersa, and Gertha Teeth are off on vacations or business. Cormac Limbs is on his way to join us but is late getting here. Larten Crepsley and his amazing performing spider will be an invaluable addition to the lineup.”

  “Thank you,” Mr. Crepsley said.

  “What about me?” I asked boldly.

  Mr. Tall smiled. “You are less valuable,” he said, “but welcome all the same.”

  I snorted but said nothing.

  “Where shall we be playing?” Mr. Crepsley asked next.

  “Right here,” Mr. Tall told him.

  “Here?” I piped up in surprise.

  “That puzzles you?” Mr. Tall enquired.

  “It’s in the middle of nowhere,” I said. “I thought you only played in towns and cities, where you’d get big audiences.”

  “We always get a big audience,” Mr. Tall said. “No matter where we play, people will come. Usually we stick to more populated areas, but this is a slow time of the year for us. As I’ve said, several of our best performers are absent, as are...certain other members of our company.”

  A strange, secretive look passed between Mr. Tall and Mr. Crepsley, and I felt I was being left out of something.

  “So we are resting for a while,” Mr. Tall went on. “We shall not be putting on any shows for a few days. We’re relaxing.”

  “We passed a camp on our way,” Mr. Crepsley said. “Are they causing any problems?”

  “The foot soldiers of NOP?” Mr. Tall laughed. “They’re too busy defending trees and rocks to interfere with us.”

  “What’s NOP?” I asked.

  “Nature’s Opposing Protectors,” Mr. Tall explained. “They’re ecowarriors. They run around the country trying to stop new roads and bridges from being built. They’ve been here a couple of months but are due to move on soon.”

  “Are they real warriors?” I asked. “Do they have guns and grenades and tanks?”

  The two adults almost laughed their heads off. “He can be quite silly sometimes,” Mr. Crepsley said between fits of laughter, “but he is not as dumb as he seems.”

  I felt my face reddening but held my tongue. I knew from experience that it was no use getting mad at grown-ups when they laugh at you; it only makes them laugh even harder.

  “They call themselves warriors,” Mr. Tall said, “but they’re not really. They chain themselves to trees and pour sand into the engines of backhoes and toss nails in the paths of cars. That sort of thing.”

  “Why —,” I started, but Mr. Crepsley interrupted. “We do not have time for questions,” he said. “A few more minutes and the sun will be up.” He rose and shook Mr. Tall’s hand. “Thank you for taking us back, Hibernius.”

  “My pleasure,” Mr. Tall replied.

  “I trust you took good care of my coffin?”

  “Of course.”

  Mr. Crepsley smiled happily and rubbed his hands together. “That is what I miss most when I am away. It will be nice to sleep in it once more.”

  “What about the boy?” Mr. Tall asked. “Do you want us to knock together a coffin for him?”

  “Don’t even think about it!” I shouted. “You won’t get me in one of those again!” I remembered what it felt like to be in a coffin — when I was buried alive — and shivered.

  Mr. Crepsley smiled. “Put Darren in with one of the other performers,” he said. “Somebody his own age, if possible.”

  Mr. Tall thought a moment. “How about Evra?” Mr. Crepsley’s smile spread. “Yes. I think putting him in with Evra is a marvelous idea.”

  “Who’s Evra?” I asked nervously.

  “You will find out,” Mr. Crepsley promised, opening the door to the van. “I will leave you to Mr. Tall. He will take care of you. I have to be away.”

  And then he was gone, off to find his beloved coffin.

  I glanced over my shoulder and saw Mr. Tall standing directly behind me. I don’t know how he crossed the room so quickly. I didn’t even hear him moving to stand up.

  “Shall we go?” he said.

  I gulped and nodded.

  He led the way through the campsite. The morning was breaking and I saw a couple of lights coming on in a few of the vans and tents. Mr. Tall led me to an old gray tent, big enough for five or six people.

  “Here are some blankets,” he said, handing over a bunch of woolly sheets. “And a pillow.” I didn’t know where he got them from — he didn’t have them when we left the van — but was too tired to ask. “You may sleep as late as you wish. I will come for you when you are awake and explain your duties. Evra will take care of you until then.”

  I lifted the flap of the tent and looked inside. It was too dark to see anything. “Who’s Evra?” I asked, turning back to Mr. Tall. But he was gone, having disappeared with his usual quick, silent speed.

  I sighed and entered, clutching the blankets to my chest. I let the flap fall back into place, then stood quietly inside, waiting for my eyes to adjust. I could hear someone breathing softly and could make out a vague shape in a hammock in the darkness beyond the middle of the tent. I looked for somewhere to make my bed. I didn’t want my tentmate tripping over me when he was getting up.

  I walked forward a few blind steps. Suddenly something slithered toward me through the darkness.

  I stopped and stared ahead, wishing so badly that I could see (without the light of the stars or moon, eve
n a vampire struggles to make things out).

  “Hello?” I whispered. “Are you Evra? I’m Darren Shan. I’m your new —”

  I stopped. The slithering noise had reached my feet. As I stood rooted to the spot, something fleshy and slimy wrapped itself around my legs. I instantly knew what it was but didn’t dare look down until it had climbed more than halfway up my body. Finally, as its coils curled around my chest, I worked up the courage to look down and stare into the eyes of a long, thick, hissing . . . snake!

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  I stood frozen with fear for more than an hour, staring into the snake’s deathly cold eyes, waiting for it to strike.

  Finally, with the light of the strong morning sun shining through the canvas of the tent, the sleeping shape in the hammock shifted, yawned, sat up, and glanced around.

  It was the snake-boy, and he looked shocked when he saw me. He immediately rocked back in the hammock and raised the covers, as though to protect himself. Then he saw the snake wrapped around me and breathed easily.

  “Who are you?” he asked sharply. “What are you doing here?”

  I shook my head slowly. I didn’t dare speak for fear that the movement of my lungs would cause the snake to strike.

  “You’d better answer,” he warned, “or I’ll tell her to take your eyes out.”

  “I ...I... I’m Duh-Darren Sh-sh-Shan,” I stuttered. “Mr. Tuh-Tall told me to cuh-come in. He said I wuh-wuh-was supposed to be your new ruh-ruh-ruh-roommate.”

  “Darren Shan?” The snake-boy frowned, then pointed knowingly. “You’re Mr. Crepsley’s assistant, aren’t you?”

  “Yes,” I said quietly.

  The snake-boy grinned. “Did he know Mr. Tall was putting you in with me?” I nodded and he laughed. “I’ve never met a vampire without a nasty sense of humor.”

  He swung down out of the hammock, crossed the tent, took hold of the snake’s head, and began unwrapping it. “You’re okay,” he assured me. “In fact, you were never in danger. The snake’s been asleep the whole time. You could have tugged her off and she wouldn’t have stirred. She’s a deep sleeper.”

  “She’s asleep?” I squeaked. “But . . . how come she wrapped herself around me?”

  He smiled. “She sleepcrawls.”

  “Sleepcrawls!” I stared at him, then at the snake, which hadn’t moved while he was unwinding her. The last of her coils came free and I could step away to one side. My legs were stiff and full of pins and needles.

  “A sleepcrawling snake.” I laughed uneasily. “Thank God she’s not a sleepeating snake!”

  The snake-boy tucked his pet away in a corner and stroked her head lovingly. “She wouldn’t have eaten you even if she had woken up,” he informed me. “She ate a goat yesterday. Snakes her size don’t have to eat very often.”

  Leaving his snake, he threw back the tent flap and stepped out. I followed quickly, not wanting to be left alone with the reptile.

  I studied him closely outside. He was exactly as I remembered: a few years older than me and very thin, with long yellow-green hair, narrow eyes, and strangely webbed fingers and toes; his body was covered in green, gold, yellow, and blue scales. He was wearing a pair of shorts and nothing else.

  “By the way,” he said, “my name’s Evra Von.” He held out a hand and we shook. His palm felt slippery, but dry. A few of the scales came off and stuck to my hand when I pulled it away. They were like scraps of colored dead skin.

  “Evra Von what?” I asked.

  “Just plain Von,” he said, rubbing his stomach. “You hungry?”

  “Yes,” I said, and went with Evra to get something to eat.

  The camp was alive with activity. Since there had been no show the night before, most of the freaks and their helpers had gone to bed early, and so now they were up and about earlier than usual.

  I was fascinated by the hustle and bustle. I hadn’t realized there were so many people working for the Cirque. I’d thought it would just be the performers and assistants I’d seen the night I went to the show with Steve, but as I looked around I saw that those were just the tip of the iceberg. There were at least two dozen people walking or talking, washing or cooking, none of whom I’d seen before.

  “Who are all these?” I asked.

  “The backbone of the Cirque Du Freak,” Evra replied. “They do the driving, set up the tents, do the laundry and the cooking, fix our costumes, clean up after shows. It’s a big operation.”

  “Are they normal humans?” I asked.

  “Most of them,” he said.

  “How did they come to work here?”

  “Some are related to the performers. Some are friends of Mr. Tall. Some just wandered in, liked what they saw, and stayed.”

  “People can do that?” I asked.

  “If Mr. Tall likes the look of them,” Evra said. “There are always openings at the Cirque Du Freak.”

  Evra stopped at a large campfire, and I stopped beside him. Hans Hands (a man who could walk on his hands and run faster on them than the world’s fastest sprinter) was resting on a log, while Truska (the bearded lady, who grew her beard whenever she wanted) cooked sausages on a wooden stick. Several humans were sitting or lying around.

  “Good morning, Evra Von,” Hans Hands said. “How are you, Hans?” Evra replied.

  “Who’s your young friend?” Hans asked, eyeing me suspiciously.

  “This is Darren Shan,” Evra said.

  “The Darren Shan?” Hans asked, eyebrows raising.

  “None other.” Evra grinned.

  “What do you mean, ‘The Darren Shan’?” I asked. “You’re famous in these parts,” Hans said.

  “Why? Because I’m a” — I lowered my voice — “half-vampire?”

  Hans laughed pleasantly. “Half-vampires are nothing new. If I had a silver dollar for every half-vampire

  I’d seen, I’d have . . .” He scrunched up his face and thought. “Twenty-nine silver dollars. But young half-vampires are a different story. I never saw or heard of a guy your age living it up among the ranks of the walking dead. Tell me: Have the Vampire Generals been around to inspect you yet?”

  “Who are the Vampire Generals?” I asked. “They’re —”

  “Hans!” a lady washing clothes barked. He stopped speaking and looked around guiltily. “Do you think Larten would enjoy hearing you spreading tales?” she snapped.

  Hans made a face. “Sorry,” he said. “It’s the morning air. I’m not used to it. It makes me say things I shouldn’t.”

  I wanted him to explain about the Vampire Generals, but I guess it would have been impolite to ask.

  Truska checked the sausages, pulled a couple off the stick, and handed them out. She smiled when she came to me, and said something in a strange, foreign language.

  Evra laughed. “She wants to know if you like sausages or if you’re a vegetarian.”

  “That’s a good one!” Hans chuckled. “A vampire vegetarian!”

  “You speak her language?” I asked Evra.

  “Yes,” he said proudly. “I’m still learning — it’s the hardest language I’ve ever tried to learn — but I’m the only one in the camp who knows what she’s saying. I’m excellent at languages,” he bragged.

  “What language is it?” I asked.

  “I don’t know,” he said, frowning. “She won’t tell me.”

  That sounded weird, but I didn’t want to say anything to offend him. Instead, I took one of the sausages and smiled thanks. I bit into it and had to drop it immediately; it was piping hot! Evra laughed and handed me a glass of water. I drank until my mouth was back to normal, then blew on the sausage to cool it down.

  We sat with Hans and Truska and the others for a while, chatting and eating and soaking up the morning sun. The grass was wet with dew, but none of us minded. Evra introduced me to everyone in the group. There were too many names for me to remember at once, so I just smiled and shook hands.

  Mr. Tall soon appeared. One minute he wasn’t there,
the next he was standing behind Evra, warming his hands over the fire.

  “You’re up early, Master Shan,” Mr. Tall remarked.

  “I couldn’t sleep,” I told him. “I was too —” I looked over at Evra and smiled “— wound-up.”

  “I hope it will not affect your ability to work,” Mr. Tall said.

  “I’ll be fine,” I said. “I’m ready to work.” “You’re sure?”

  “I’m sure.”

  “That’s what I like to hear.” He pulled out a large notebook and flipped through the pages. “Let’s see what we can find for you to do today,” he said. “Tell me: Are you a good cook?”

  “I can cook stew. Mr. Crepsley taught me.” “Have you ever cooked for thirty or forty humans?”

  “No.”

  “Too bad. Maybe you’ll learn.” He flipped through another couple of pages. “Can you sew?”

  “No.”

  “Have you washed clothes before?”

  “By hand?”

  “Yes.”

  “No.”

  “Hmmm.” He flipped some more, then snapped the book shut. “Okay,” he said, “until we find a more permanent position for you, stick with Evra and help him with his chores. Does that sound fair?”

  “I’d like that,” I said.

  “You don’t mind, Evra?” he asked the snake-boy.

  “Not at all,” Evra replied.

  “Very well. It’s settled. Evra will be in charge of you until further notice. Do what he says. When your colleague-in-blood arises” — he meant Mr. Crepsley — “you’re free to spend the night with him if he so desires. We’ll see how you do, then make a decision on how best to utilize your talents.”

  “Thank you,” I said.

  “My pleasure,” he replied.

  I expected him to suddenly vanish then, but instead he turned and walked away slowly, whistling, enjoying the sunshine.

  “Well, Darren,” Evra said, sticking a scaly arm around my shoulders, “looks like you and I are partners now. How do you feel about that?”

  “I feel good . . . partner.”

  “Cool!” He slapped my shoulder and gulped down the last of his sausage. “Then let’s get going.”