by Di Toft
Scale was still hiding in Crescent’s body. He too had heard Nat Carver’s mindhowl for help, and was glad. He was operating the she-wolf like a puppet, guiding her body and seeing through her eyes. He had made Crescent hide in the caves behind the curtain of ice, spying and listening to the Wolven’s plans. This was better than perfect. The Wolven were going to fight and lead him straight to Nat Carver! He would see to it that they would die trying. He could read the vampire queen’s mind like a well-thumbed book—he knew she had double-crossed him. No matter. He would see to it that she would pay the ultimate price. And so would Nat Carver.
While Scale was making his sick plans, the vampire queen scanned the snowy horizon from the top of the north tower. Her red eyes sought her hive in the darkness. Two hours until dawn! Her search scouts had reported that the small band of Wolven were on the move at last. The Carver boy was safely out of action for now, and when the Wolven clan came to his rescue they would be wiped out by the hive. All except the young one—the one they called Woody. The vampire was grateful to the demon wolf creature, Scale, for awakening her from her long sleep after her own husband had put the stake through her heart all those years ago. But not so grateful that she had any qualms about double-crossing him. Let Scale think she had destroyed the boy and his pet Wolven; she had uses for them herself! She had enjoyed showing the boy how powerful she was just by the simple illusion, and his face had shown her better than any mirror could how her appearance was improving all the time thanks to her moonlit blood baths. And the future? She would bewitch humanity! She would create legions of vampires and be more powerful than any vampire in Europe. Then she would spread her wings farther across the world. She smiled to herself. Things were working out beautifully. She leaned over the top of the tower and called for her last remaining hive, listening keenly for the THWACK THWACK of their beautiful strong wings.
Somewhere deep inside the Black Chateau, Nat was dozing uneasily until a small, freezing cold hand was shoved roughly over his mouth.
“This is no time for a nap,” whispered Fish. “Let’s get you out of here.”
Nat thought he was dreaming until the pain from the tight ropes sharpened his senses.
“Easy does it,” said Fish as she cut through the thick rope with her penknife, helping him to massage his limbs to get the blood flowing again.
“What’s going on?” whispered Nat. “Wha—?”
“Tell you later,” said Fish. “You need to know two things for now: The good news is that Saffi Besson and the other missing kids are still alive. They’re safe for now. The bad news is that the chateau is heaving with vampires.”
Nat stared at her in awe. “Crone was right about you,” he muttered, “you really are superhuman.”
Fish smiled modestly, although inside she agreed with every word. She pulled him to his feet and together they left the hateful room behind them, stepping out into the long passage.
“C’mon,” said Nat, feeling his strength return. “Something’s about to happen. I can feel it.” It was true; familiar feelings were stirring in his body. His hairs—hackles—rose and stuck up like quills at the back of his neck, his eyes felt like they were bugging out, and his breath was coming in quick short pants, like a wolf. And then it came. Loud and clear. No mistake:
NATHOLDONAMCOMINGWILLHELPSOOOOOOOOOOONNN!!!!
It was Woody.
Woody led the King’s Wolven out from behind the ice curtain and onto the frozen plain. He had locked onto the echoes of Nat’s scream for help and it still played like a movie in his brain. Pinpointing Nat’s whereabouts had been easy, and the vision of the Black Chateau helped guide both his clan and his Wolven GPS. Woody ran tirelessly, his thoughts jumbled with the visions he had picked up from his friend. VAMPIRES!
The clan was willing to die in the fight for Woody’s friend, and this made the choice Woody would have to make all the harder to deal with. If I’m still alive, he thought grimly.
As the Black Chateau came into sight for the first time, Woody skidded to a halt and turned to face his clan. Then, placing their power, their loyalty, and their trust in him, the twelve Wolven—together for the first time in the new millennium—prepared to fight.
CHAPTER 32
BLACK SNOW
The twelve Wolven came, manes flowing, eyes glowing.
From the north tower of the Black Chateau, the vampire queen saw them arrive through the blizzard, her bloodred eyes narrowed against the sting of snow. For the first time she felt unease. The Wolven’s white shimmering coats blended perfectly with the deep snow, and it was almost impossible for her to track them. She couldn’t help feeling a grudging admiration at her first sight of them and the speed with which they traveled. Not even the frozen wasteland of the lake could slow them, their lithe bodies moving like soft white smoke. Then, suddenly and impossibly, they had vanished!
The vampire hovered a little above the parapet of the tower, a small cry of dismay escaping from her strange mouth. They had disappeared! She tried to calm herself. She could see her hive clearly, like big ugly ants as they waited to attack, some in the trees, some on the ground at the bottom of her tower. She drew comfort from the fact that her army could attack from the air. The Wolven had no choice but to stay grounded. Her job was to see it all when it happened, to command the battle like a general, guiding and directing, but never endanger her own life. But how could she do it if she couldn’t see the enemy?
Woody had led his Wolven clan across the ice. He remembered the layout of the Black Chateau and could feel that Nat was somewhere close. Burrowing under the deep snow, he tunneled out of sight, the others following eagerly. Their movements were so smooth that there was no evidence on the surface of anything traveling quickly beneath. Then Woody’s nostrils were filled with the familiar stink of the vampires. They were close now.
The vampires at the bottom of the tower were ready to fight and were picking up on the queen’s ugly mood. They were unsure from which side the Wolven enemy would approach. The vampire lieutenant had warned them that the Wolven had temporarily disappeared from sight, and this made them very nervous. The survivors of the onion soup attacks had seen what a werewolf could do, let alone a Wolven. Wolven were rock hard, the stuff of legend and—
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO WWWWWRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!!”
The nearest vampires were hit by a snow tsunami as the Wolven sprang out like demented jack-in-the-boxes. The noise of their howls was immense, so loud that some of the vampires tried to run away, their hands clamped awkwardly over their pointed ears. The vampire queen watched in horrified dismay as the Wolven paired off and repeatedly and tirelessly attacked the vampire hive, ripping and tearing at the blackened shapes. They bit easily through the vampires’ scrawny necks, disconnecting their loathsome heads from their bodies, although some still ran around like headless chickens. The snow had turned black with their foul blood.
The queen looked feverishly toward the eastern sky, searching for signs of dawn. The Wolven had dispatched the vampires on the ground in minutes. Shrieking like a banshee, she called again and the sky became black with dark angel wings as the rest of the hive flew down from the trees. With a last glance at the battle below, the queen crawled down the side of the tower like a monstrous spider.
“They’re here,” said Nat.
Fish looked at him, thrilled. Nat’s eyes were glowing a warm orange in the darkness.
“You mean, he’s here,” said Fish, a little shiver running down her back.
Nat shook his head. “No, it … it’s not just Woody. There’s more. I can sense more—more Wolven!”
“Noooo!” said Fish, her excitement reaching fever pitch. “Are you sure?”
Nat was just about to reply when unearthly shrieks interrupted him.
“Something’s happening,” said Fish. “Quick.”
They ran to the bridge and peered over the parapet.
“No way!” said Nat. “Oh, look at them!”
Fish strained her eyes. Hampered as she was by human eyesight, all she could see was the black sky and white snow. But then she caught a glimpse of an enormous white wolf, and then another and another. They glowed blueywhite in the darkness, their eyes shining with topaz colors. They were leaping up into the air, bringing down writhing black shapes, then shaking them like a dog shakes a rag. The Wolven were fighting the vampires!
Nat counted five … no … eight … ten Wolven, but there were too many vampires to count; they seemed hopelessly outnumbered. But the Wolven were equipped with teeth, claws, and incredible strength. The vampires were strong, but the white wolf creatures had an advantage over them: The bloodsuckers had to get up close and really personal to use their teeth.
“We need to get the kids and leave,” said Fish, interrupting his thoughts, “and we can’t stay up here. We’re too exposed.”
Nat agreed reluctantly. He thought about blasting Woody again, but he worried he might knock him off his guard. He hadn’t seen his friend in the midst of the fighting, but just the knowledge he was nearby was comfort enough. He glanced at the sky in hope. How long before dawn?
The Carver boy was gone!
The vampire queen surveyed the room. It was empty except for the rope she herself had bound him with. For the first time since the rats had reanimated her with their blood, she was frightened. Her fears were confirmed when she reached the cellars. The cocoons lay in tatters—the children had gone, too.
She stared at the empty cocoons. If the hive lost the battle, the Wolven would come for her. She needed to find Nat Carver quickly. The others could rot in hell, but Carver was her insurance. He could not leave the chateau!
“You put them where?” asked Nat incredulously.
“In the mausoleum,” said Fish. “I used the Egyptian key to lock ’em in.”
“If they didn’t need therapy before, they will now,” said Nat, shaking his head.
“It’s safer than anywhere else,” said Fish defensively. “The comtesse sleeps in the chateau, and the other coffins were full.”
“We’d better—” Nat stopped abruptly. “Can you hear that?”
Fish could hear nothing apart from the howling wind, and shook her head.
Nat concentrated. The voice in his head was familiar, but very faint. And it kept phasing out like a bad radio signal…. Then …
Cominwhereareyaaaaaaa????
It was Woody!
Meetyaattheblackbridgecominnow!!!! Nat blasted back, and hoped he had done it hard enough. His head aching with the effort, he grabbed Fish’s hand and ran.
“C’mon,” he shouted. “We’ll meet him at the black bridge.”
Their relief at hearing from Woody was cut short by another noise.
THWACK THWACK THWACK. Nat’s reaction was instant. Pulling Fish with him, he shot under the cover of the archway between the chateau and the lower gardens. Flattening themselves to the wall, they prayed they hadn’t been seen by the circling vampires.
“The vampire queen must know I’ve escaped,” panted Nat. “She wouldn’t spare any of them from the fighting unless she’d found out.”
Counting the seconds, Nat risked sliding out from under the thin arch. “They’ve gone,” he said, his face white in the darkness. “C’mon!”
Still dragging Fish by the hand, he belted across the black bridge, trying not to look at the drop on either side. As they ran they instinctively ducked their heads, keeping themselves as low and small as possible. Reaching the enormous door of the mausoleum, Fish fumbled in her pocket for the Egyptian key. There was a truly horrible moment when her frozen fingers dropped it in the snow. Falling to her knees, she scrabbled about for it while Nat scanned the black sky, expecting to see red eyes and black wings and hear the THWACK THWACK of wings.
“Got it!” shouted Fish triumphantly, holding the key out to Nat.
But Nat wasn’t listening. He was just standing there, grinning like an idiot. For galloping over the black bridge, tongue lolling, eyes glowing like headlights, came a large, white wolf creature. It was Woody.
Saffi Besson had been busy. She had surprised herself over the last dreadful weeks in the company of the vampire, and knew that whatever happened—whether they managed to get out of here alive or not—it wasn’t because she hadn’t tried to save herself. Now she was in charge of these shocked and freezing kids. Her mum always said that God helps those who help themselves. Well, she didn’t know about that, but she—or God—had found some paraffin lamps and matches and, with the help of a couple of the bigger kids, she had smashed up a couple of coffin lids to get a fire going. And when she heard the key turn in the lock, she was ready. Brandishing a flaming piece of wood, she waited, wild-eyed and grim.
The heavy door crashed open, the kids by the fire cowering in fright, covering their eyes. Saffi, her breath held, her feet planted firmly so she could get a good swing at whoever it was, almost fainted in relief. It was the girl, Alex Fish!
But there was someone with her—a boy—a boy whom Saffi had no difficulty in recognizing. It was the boy from the lake! The boy she had prayed would get help. He was smiling at her. But … this had to be a dream, for behind him there was—and Saffi took a few steps back—behind him there was a great big white wolf!
“It’s OK,” said Fish hastily as she saw Saffi raise the piece of burning wood. “He’s harmless.”
Then the boy with the dark blue eyes smiled. “Ready to get out of here?”
Saffi nodded, her eyes filling with grateful tears.
Gathering up the children, Nat opened the door of the mausoleum for the last time. The moon had come out from the snow-laden sky, showing the black bridge and the white ice in perfect monochrome. And there were vampires roosted silently on the parapets.
The vampire queen grinned obscenely as she stood in front of them.
“Caught like rats in a trap,” she cackled. “And now I have a pet Wolven, too. How convenient.”
CHAPTER 33
DEATH BY WOLVEN
It didn’t take Nat and Fish long to realize they were outnumbered. Woody’s lip was drawn into a deadly snarl that showed all his teeth. He looked terrifying.
“Down, boy.” The vampire queen smirked, flanked by her deadly assistants, their red eyes glowing malevolently with thirst. “Master Carver, you’ll have to control your beast; he’s frightening the children!”
But Woody knew something else, and he hoped Nat was sharing his thoughts. The clan had been victorious. They had all but demolished the hive and they were coming. Coming for the last of the hive and their evil queen.
“AAAAAAAAAHWOOOOOOOOOOO RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGHHHHHHHHHHHH!”
The howling cut through the tension like a knife. Fish noticed the expression on the face of the vampire queen with satisfaction. She looked petrified. Well, it serves her right, thought Fish. A good general never leaves the battle without making sure they’re winning.
In the moonlight came Woody’s clan, so glaringly white it almost hurt Fish’s eyes to look at them. In one minute flat, the queen had gone from triumph to dismay. Fish watched as the last of the vampire hive swooped to meet the approaching Wolven.
Woody galloped toward them, snarling and growling. Nat watched in horror as a red-eyed bloodsucker landed on Woody’s back. In a trice, Woody had rolled over and grabbed the surprised vamp by the throat. Black blood splattered Woody and onto the ice. The Wolven were tireless. As the remaining vampires tried to flee, the clan leaped high into the air, bringing them down effortlessly and finishing them off, the snow melting with their stinking gore.
The queen stood alone. Smiling at them, she backed away, her wings quivering as she tried to unfold them.
“Get her!” screamed Fish. “She’s trying to morph!”
The queen laughed, a harsh, grating sound, and leaped
up onto the top of the bridge, preparing to morph into her wings. Just as her feet left the ground, a white blur shot past Nat and Fish and rocketed high into the air, just managing to lock onto her horrid long toes with its teeth.
“AAAAAIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!” A ghastly shriek came from the maw of the vampire’s mouth as both vampire and Woody plummeted from the top of the parapet down onto the ice-covered lake.
“Get the children inside!” yelled Nat to Fish. “They’re going to freeze out here!”
Fish hesitated; she wanted to follow the Wolven, not babysit. But common sense told her she had no choice. Reluctantly she agreed, and she and Saffi took the children back inside the mausoleum, out of the freezing wind.
Nat raced over to the edge of the bridge and looked down. All he could see was a black hole in the ice where Woody had taken down the vampire queen and crashed through. There was no sign of either.
He watched, his heart in his mouth, as the remaining eleven Wolven raced down the rocky path to the lake below. Remembering Mac’s words, he hoped they were true: I can even drown. If Woody had survived the fall and was strong enough to keep the vampire under the water long enough to drown her, the reign of terror would be finished—at least for now.
