Vampire Mountain

by Darren Shan

  I caught a couple of squirrels in the forest and cooked them, so they were ready in the morning when the vampires returned. I served hot berries and roots with them — Mr. Crepsley had taught me which wild foods were safe to eat. Gavner thanked me for the food, but Mr. Crepsley was distant and didn't say much. They'd discovered no further trace of the vampaneze, and that worried them — a mad vampaneze couldn't have covered his tracks so expertly. That meant we were dealing with one — or more — in full control of his senses.

  Gavner wanted to flit ahead to consult with the other vampires, but Mr. Crepsley wouldn't let him — the laws against flitting on the way to Vampire Mountain were more important than our safety, he insisted.

  It was strange how Gavner went along with most of what Mr. Crepsley said. As a General, he could have ordered us to do whatever he pleased. But I'd never seen him pull rank on Mr. Crepsley. Maybe it was because Mr. Crepsley had once been a General of high ranking. He'd been on the verge of becoming a Vampire Prince when he quit. Maybe Gavner still considered Mr. Crepsley his superior.

  After a full day's sleep, the vampires set off to scout the land ahead again. If the way was clear, we'd start back on the trail to Vampire Mountain the next night.

  I ate a small breakfast, then Rudi and me headed down to the forest to play. Rudi loved being away from the adult wolves. He was able to explore freely, with no one to snap at him or cuff him around the head if he misbehaved. He tried climbing trees but was too short for most. Finally he found one with low-hanging branches and he clambered halfway up. Once there, he looked down and whimpered.

  "Come on," I laughed. "You're not that high up. You don't need to be afraid." He ignored me and went on whimpering. Then he bared his fangs and growled.

  I stepped closer, puzzled by his behavior. "What's wrong?" I asked. "Are you stuck? Do you want help?" The cub yapped. He sounded genuinely frightened. "Okay, Rudi," I said, "I'm coming up to —"

  I was silenced by a bone-shattering roar. Turning, I saw a huge, dark bear lurching over the top of a snowdrift. It landed heavily, shook its snout, snarled, fixed its gaze on me — then lunged, teeth flashing, claws exposed, hell-bent on tearing me apart!

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  THE BEAR WOULD HAVE KILLED me, if it wasn't for Rudi. The cub leaped from the tree, landing on top of the bear's head, momentarily blinding it. The bear roared and swiped at the cub, who ducked and bit one of its ears. The bear roared again and shook its head viciously from side to side. Rudi held on for a couple of seconds, before he was sent flying into a thicket.

  The bear resumed its attack on me, but in the time the cub had bought, I'd ducked around the tree and was racing for the cave as fast as I could. The bear lurched after me, realized I was too far ahead, bellowed angrily, turned, and went looking for Rudi.

  I stopped when I heard frightened yapping. Looking over my shoulder, I saw that the cub had made it back up the tree, the bark of which the bear was now ripping to pieces with its claws. Rudi wasn't in any immediate danger, but sooner or later he'd slip or the bear would shake him down, and that would be the end of him.

  I paused no more than a second, then turned, picked up a rock and the thickest stick I could find, and sped back to try and save Rudi.

  The bear let go of the tree when it saw me coming, dropped to its hind legs, and met my challenge. It was a huge beast, maybe a yard and a half high; it had black fur, a white quarter-moon mark across its chest, and a whitish face. Foam flecked its jaws and its eyes were wild, like it was touched by rabid madness.

  I stopped in front of the bear and whacked the ground with my stick. "Come on, grizzly," I growled. It snarled and tossed its head. I looked up at Rudi, hoping he'd have enough sense to slink down the tree and retreat to the cave, but he stayed where he was, petrified, unable to let go.

  The bear swiped at me, but I ducked out of the way of its massive paw. Rearing up on its hind legs, it collapsed flat on me, trying to crush me with the weight of its body. I avoided it again, but it was a closer call this time.

  I was prodding at the bear's face with the end of the stick, aiming for its eyes, when the she-wolves rushed onto the scene — they must have heard Rudi's yapping. The bear howled as one of the wolves leaped and bit deep into its shoulder, while the other attached herself to its legs, tearing at them with her teeth and claws. It shook off the uppermost wolf and bent to deal with the lower one, which was when I darted in with my stick and jabbed at its left ear.

  I must have hurt it, because it lost interest in the wolves and hurled itself at me. I ducked out of the way of its body, but one of its burly forelegs connected with the side of my head and knocked me to the ground.

  The bear rolled to its feet and went for me, scattering the wolves with swipes of its claws. I scrambled backward, but not fast enough. Suddenly the bear was above me, standing erect, bellowing triumphantly — it had me exactly where it wanted! I slammed the stick against its stomach, then the rock, but it didn't take any notice of such feeble blows. Leering, it started to fall ….

  Which was when the Little People barreled into its back and knocked it off balance. Their timing couldn't have been any sweeter.

  The bear must have thought the entire world was conspiring against it. Every time it had me in its sights, something new got in the way. Roaring loudly at the Little People, it threw itself at them madly. The one with the limp stepped out of its way, but the other got trapped beneath it.

  The Little Person raised his short arms, jammed them against the bear's torso, and tried to shove it aside. The Little Person was strong, but he stood no chance against such a massive enemy, and the bear came crashing down and flattened him. There was a horrible crunching sound, and when the bear got to its feet, I saw the Little Person lying in pieces, broken bones jutting out of his body at crooked red angles.

  The bear lifted its head and bellowed at the sky, then fixed its eyes on me and leered hungrily. Dropping to all fours, it advanced. The wolves leaped at it but it shook them loose as though they were fleas. I was still dazed from the blow, not able to get to my feet. I began crawling through the snow.

  As the bear closed in for the kill, the second Little Person — the one I called Lefty — stepped in front of it, caught it by its ears, and head-butted it! It was the craziest thing I'd ever seen, but it did an amazingly effective job. The bear grunted and blinked dumbly. Lefty head-butted it again and was rearing his head back for a third blow when the bear struck at him with its right paw, like a boxer.

  It hit Lefty in the chest and knocked him down. His hood had fallen off during the struggle and I could see his gray, stitched-together face and round, green eyes. There was a mask over his mouth, like the kind doctors wear during surgery. He stared up at the bear, unafraid, waiting for the killer blow.

  "No!" I screamed. Stumbling to my knees, I threw a punch at the bear. It snarled at me. I punched it again, then grabbed a handful of snow and threw it into the beast's eyes.

  While the bear cleared its vision, I looked for a weapon. I was desperate — anything was better than my bare hands. At first I saw nothing I could use, but then my eyes fell on the bones sticking out of the dead Little Person's body. Acting on instinct, I rolled across to where the Little Person lay, took hold of one of the longer bones, and pulled. It was covered in blood and my fingers slipped off. Trying again, I got a firmer hold and worked it from side to side. After a few tugs it snapped near the base and suddenly I wasn't defenseless anymore.

  The bear had regained its sight and was pounding toward me. Lefty was still on the ground. The wolves were barking furiously, unable to do anything to stop the charging bear. The cub yapped from its perch in the tree.

  I was on my own. Me against the bear. No one could help me now.

  Spinning, using all my extra-sharp vampire abilities, I rolled underneath the clutching claws of the bear, jumped to my feet, picked my spot, and rammed the tip of the bone deep into the bear's unprotected neck.

  The bear came to a halt.
Its eyes bulged. Its forelegs dropped by its sides. For a moment it stood, gasping painfully, the bone sticking out of its neck. Then it crashed to the ground, shook horribly for a few seconds — and died.

  I fell on top of the dead bear and lay there. I was shaking and crying, more from fright than pain. I'd looked death in the eye before, but never had I been involved in a fight as savage as this.

  Eventually, one of the she-wolves — the normally shy one — cuddled up to me and licked around my face, making sure I was all right. I patted her to show I was okay, and buried my face in her neck, drying my tears on her hair. When I felt steady, I stood and gazed at the area around me.

  The other she-wolf was by the tree, coaxing Rudi down — the cub was even more shaken than me. The dead Little Person lay not far away, his blood seeping into the snow, turning it crimson. Lefty was sitting up, checking himself for injuries.

  I made my way over to Lefty to thank him for saving my life. He was incredibly ugly without his hood: He had gray skin, and his face was a mass of scars and stitches. He had no ears or nose that I could see, and his round, green eyes were set near the top of his head, not in the middle of his face like they are with most people. He was completely hairless.

  Any other time I might have been frightened, but this creature had risked his life to save mine, and all I felt was gratitude. "Are you okay, Lefty?" I asked. He looked up and nodded. "That was a close call." I half-laughed. Again he nodded. "Thanks for coming to my rescue. I would have been a goner if you hadn't stepped in." I sank to the ground beside him and gazed at the bear, then at the dead Little Person. "Sorry about your partner, Lefty," I said softly. "Should we bury him?"

  The Little Person shook his large head, started to rise, then paused. He stared into my eyes, and I stared back questioningly. By the expression on his face, I almost expected him to speak.

  Reaching up, Lefty gently tugged down the mask that covered the lower half of his face. He had a wide mouth full of sharp, yellow teeth. He stuck out his tongue — which was a weird gray color, like his skin — and licked his lips. When they were wet, he flexed and stretched them a few times, then did the one thing I was sure the Little People could never do. In a creaky, slow, mechanical tone — he spoke.

  "Name … not Lefty. Name … Harkat … Harkat Mulds." And his lips spread into a jagged gash, which was as close to a smile as he could come.

  CHAPTER NINE

  MR. CREPSLEY, GAVNER, AND STREAK had been checking a maze of cliff-top tunnels when they heard faint echoes of the fight. They raced back, arriving fifteen minutes or so after I'd killed the bear. They were stunned when I explained what happened and told them about Harkat Mulds. The Little Person had replaced his robes and hood, and when they asked him if it was true that he could talk, there was a long moment of silence during which I thought he wasn't going to say anything. Then he nodded and croaked, "Yes." Gavner actually jumped back a few steps when he heard the Little Person speak. Mr. Crepsley shook his head, amazed. "We will discuss this later," he said. "First there is the bear to deal with." He crouched beside the dead bear and studied it from top to bottom. "Describe how it attacked you," he said, and I told him about the bear's sudden appearance and savage attack. "It makes no sense." Mr. Crepsley frowned. "Bears do not behave in such a fashion unless agitated or starving. It was not hunger that motivated it — look at its round stomach — and if you did nothing to upset it …"

  "It was foaming at the mouth," I said. "I think it had rabies."

  "We shall soon see." The vampire used his sharp nails to cut open the bear's belly. He stuck his nose close to the cut and sniffed the blood that was oozing out. After a few seconds he made a face and stood up.

  "Well?" Gavner asked.

  "The bear was insane," Mr. Crepsley said, "but not with rabies — it had consumed the blood of a vampaneze!"

  "How?" I gasped.

  "I am not sure," Mr. Crepsley replied, then looked up at the sky. "We have time before dawn. We will trace this bear's trail and perhaps learn more along the way."

  "What about the dead Little Person?" Gavner asked. "Should we bury him?"

  "Do you want to bury him … Harkat?" Mr. Crepsley asked, echoing my earlier question.

  Harkat Mulds shook his head. "Not really."

  "Then leave him," the vampire snapped. "Scavengers and birds will pick his bones clean. We do not have time to waste."

  The path of the bear was easy to follow — even an untrained tracker like me could have traced it by the deep footprints and broken twigs.

  Night was coming to a close as we pulled up at a small mound of stones and found what had driven the bear mad. Half-buried underneath the stones was a purple body with a red head of hair — a vampaneze!

  "By the way his skull is crushed, he must have died in a fall," Mr. Crepsley said, examining the dead man. "The bear found him after he was buried and dug him up. See the chunks that have been bitten out of him?" He pointed to the gaping holes in the vampaneze's belly. "That is what drove it mad — the blood of vampaneze and vampires is poisonous. Had you not killed it, it would have died in another night or two anyway."

  "So that's where our mystery vampaneze was," Gavner grunted. "No wonder we couldn't find him."

  "We don't have to worry about him anymore, do we?" I sighed.

  "Quite the contrary," Mr. Crepsley snapped. "We have more reason to worry now than before."

  "Why?" I asked. "He's dead, isn't he?"

  "He is," Mr. Crepsley agreed, then pointed to the stones which had been laid over the vampaneze. "But who buried him?"

  We made camp at the base of a cliff, using branches and leaves to make a shelter where the vampires could sleep, safe from the sun. Once they were inside, Harkat and me sat by the entrance and the Little Person told his incredible story. The wolves had gone off hunting, except for Rudi, who curled up in my lap and dozed.

  "My memories … are not … complete," said Harkat. Speaking wasn't easy for him and he had to pause for breath a lot. "Much is … clouded. I will tell … you what … I remember. First — I am a … ghost."

  Our jaws dropped.

  "A ghost!" Mr. Crepsley shouted. "Absurd!"

  "Absolutely," Gavner agreed with a grin. "Vampires don't believe in crazy things like ghosts, do we, Larten?"

  Before Mr. Crepsley could reply, Harkat corrected himself. "What I should … have said … is, I … was a ghost. All … Little People … were ghosts. Until … they agreed to terms … with Mr. Tiny."

  "I don't understand," Gavner said. "Agreed to what terms? How?"

  "Mr. Tiny can … talk with … dead," Harkat explained. "I did not … leave Earth … when I died. Soul … could not. I was … stuck. Mr. Tiny found … me. Said he'd give … me a … body, so I … could live again. In return … I'd serve him, as a … Little Person."

  According to Harkat, each of the Little People had struck a deal with Mr. Tiny, and each deal was different. They didn't have to serve him forever. Sooner or later, they would be freed, some to live on in the gray, short bodies, some to be reborn, others to move on to heaven or paradise or wherever it is that dead souls go.

  "Mr. Tiny has that much power?" Mr. Crepsley asked.

  Harkat nodded.

  "What deal did you strike with him?" I asked curiously.

  "I do not … know," he said. "I cannot … remember."

  There were lots of things he couldn't remember. He didn't know who he'd been when he was alive, when or where he'd lived, or how long he'd been dead. He didn't even know if he'd been a man or a woman! The Little People were genderless, which meant they were neither male nor female.

  "So how do we refer to you?" Gavner asked. "He? She? It?"

  "He will … do fine," Harkat said.

  Their blue robes and hoods were for show. Their masks, on the other hand, were necessary, and they carried several spares, some sewn under their skin for extra safekeeping! Air was lethal to them — if they breathed normal air for ten or twelve hours, they'd die. There wer
e chemicals in their masks that purified the air.

  "How can you die of you're already dead?" I asked, confused.

  "My body can … die, like anyone … else's. If it does … my soul goes … back to the way … it was."

  "Could you agree to another contract with Mr. Tiny?" Mr. Crepsley asked.

  Harkat shook his head. "Not sure. But don't … think so. One shot at … extra life is … all I think … we get."

  The Little People could read each other's minds. That's why they never spoke. He wasn't sure if the others were able to speak or not. When asked why he'd never spoken before, he flashed a crooked grin and said he'd never had cause to.

  "But there must be a reason," Mr. Crepsley pressed. "In all the hundreds of years that we have known them, no Little Person has ever spoken, even when dying or in great pain. Why have you broken that long silence? And why?"

  Harkat hesitated. "I have a … message," he finally said. "Mr. Tiny … gave me it … to give to … Vampire Princes. So I'd … have had to speak … soon anyway."

  "A message?" Mr. Crepsley leaned forward intently, but pulled back into the shadows of the shelter when the sun hit him. "What sort of message?"

  "It is for … Princes," Harkat said. "I do not … think I should … tell you."

  "Go on, Harkat," I urged him. "We won't tell them you told us. You can trust us."

  "You will … not tell?" he asked Mr. Crepsley and Gavner.

  "My lips are sealed," Gavner promised.

  Mr. Crepsley was slower to make his pledge, but finally nodded.

  Harkat took a deep, shuddering breath. "Mr. Tiny told … me to tell … Princes that the … night of the … Vampaneze Lord … is at hand. That is … all."

  "The night of the Vampaneze Lord is at hand?" I repeated. "What kind of a message is that?"

  "I do not … know what … it means," Harkat said. "I'm just … the messenger."

  "Gavner, do you —" I started to ask, but stopped when I saw the expressions of the vampires. Although Harkat's message didn't mean anything to me, it obviously meant a whole lot to them. Their faces were even paler than usual, and they were trembling with fear. In fact, they couldn't have looked more terrified if they'd been staked to the ground out in the open and left for the sun to rise!