"They are our traveling companions," Mr. Crepsley said. "The boy is my assistant, a half-vampire."
"Do you vouch for him?" the guard asked.
"I do."
"Then Darren Shan is recognized by the gate." The tip of his spear pointed firmly at Harkat now. "Butthis is no vampire. What business has he at Council?"
"His name is Harkat Mulds. He is a Little Person. He"
"A Little Person!" The guard gasped, lowering his spear. He crouched and made a rude study of Harkat's face (Harkat had removed his hood soon after we entered the tunnels, so he could see better). "He's an ugly specimen, isn't he?" the guard remarked. If he hadn't been carrying a spear, I'd have told him off for speaking so inconsiderately. "I thought the Little People couldn't speak."
"We all thought that," Mr. Crepsley said. "But they can. At least, this one can. He has a message for the Princes, to be delivered in person."
"A message?" The guard scratched his chin with the tip of the spear. "From who?"
"Desmond Tiny," Mr. Crepsley replied.
The guard blanched, stood to attention, and said quickly, "The Little Person known as Harkat Mulds is recognized by the gate. The Halls are open to all of you. Enter and fare well."
He stepped aside and let us pass. A couple of seconds later the door closed behind us and our journey to the Halls of Vampire Mountain was at an end.
CHAPTER TWELVE
ONE OF THE GREEN-CLAD GUARDSescorted us to the Hall of Osca Velm, which was a Hall of welcome (most of the Halls were named after famous vampires). This was a small cavern, the walls knobbly and black with the grime and soot of decades. It was warmed and lit by a couple of open fires, the air pleasantly thick with smoke (the smoke slowly exited the cavern through natural cracks and holes in the ceiling). There were several roughly carved tables and benches where arriving vampires could rest and eat (the legs of the tables had been made from the bones of large animals). There were handwoven baskets full of shoes on the walls, which newcomers were free to pick from. You could also find out who was in attendance at the Council a large black stone was set in one of the walls, and the name of every vampire who'd arrived was etched on it. As we sat at a long wooden table, I saw a vampire climb a ladder and add our names to the list. After Harkat's, he put in brackets, "a Little Person."
There weren't many vampires in the quiet, smoky Hall ourselves, a few more who had recently arrived, and a couple of green-uniformed guards. A vampire with long hair, wearing no shirt, came over to us with two round barrels. One of the barrels was packed to the top with loaves of hard bread, the other was half full of gristly pieces of both raw and cooked meat.
We took as much as we wanted to eat and set it down on the table (there were no plates), using our ringers and teeth to break off chunks. The vampire returned with three large jugs, filled with human blood, wine, and water. I asked for a mug, but Gavner told me you had to drink right from the jug. It was difficult I soaked my chin and chest with water the first time I tried but it was more fun than drinking out of a cup.
The bread was stale, but the vampire brought bowls of hot broth (the bowls were carved out of the skulls of various beasts), and the bread was fine if you tore a piece off and dipped it in the thick, dark broth for a few seconds. "This is great," I said, munching away at my third slice.
"The best," Gavner agreed. He was already on his fifth.
"How come you're not having any broth?" I asked Mr. Crepsley, who was eating his bread plain.
"Bat broth does not agree with me," he replied.
My hand froze on its way to my mouth. The soaked piece of bread I'd been holding fell to the table. "Batbroth? "I yelped.
"Of course," Gavner said. "What did you think it was made of?"
I stared down into the dark liquid of the bowl. The light was bad in the cavern, but now that I focused, I spotted a thin, leathery wing sticking out of the broth. "I think I'm gonna be sick!" I moaned.
"Don't be stupid." Gavner chortled. "You loved it when you didn't know what it was. Just get it down you and pretend it's nice, fresh chicken soup you'll eat a lot worse than bat broth before your stay in Vampire Mountain's over!"
I pushed the bowl away. "Actually, I feel pretty full," I muttered. "I'll leave it for now." I looked at Harkat, who was mopping up the last of his broth with a thick slice of bread. "You don't mind eating bats?" I asked.
Harkat shrugged. "I have no taste buds. Food is all the same to me."
"You can't tasteanything?" I asked.
"Bat dog mud no difference. I have no sense of smell either. That's why no nose."
"That's something I meant to ask about," Gavner said. "If you're not able to smell without a nose, how can you hear without ears?"
"I have ears," Harkat said. "They're under skin." He pointed to two spots on either side of his round, green eyes. (He'd left his hood down.)
Gavner leaned over the table to examine Harkat's ears. "I see them!" he exclaimed, and we all leaned over to gawk. Harkat didn't mind he liked the attention. His ears looked like dry dates, barely visible beneath the gray skin.
"You can hear in spite of the skin stretched over them?" Gavner asked.
"Quite well," Harkat replied. "Not as good as vampires. But better than humans."
"How come you've got ears but no nose?" I asked.
"Mr. Tiny didn't give me nose. Never asked why not. Maybe because of air. Would need another mask for nose.
It was strange to think that Harkat couldn't smell the musky air of the Hall or taste the bat broth. No wonder the Little People never complained when I brought them rotting, stinking animals that had been dead for ages!
I was about to ask Harkat more about his limited senses when an ancient-looking vampire dressed in red sat down opposite Mr. Crepsley and smiled. "I was expecting you weeks ago," he said. "What took you so long?"
"Seba!" Mr. Crepsley roared, and lunged across the table to clasp the older vampire's shoulders. I was surprised I'd never seen him behave so warmly toward another person. He was beaming when he let the vampire go. "It has been a long time, old friend."
"Too long," the older vampire agreed. "I have often searched for you mentally, in the hope that you were near. When I sensed you coming, I hardly dared believe it."
The older vampire ran an eye over Harkat and me. He was wrinkled and shrunken with age, but the light of a younger man burned brightly in his eyes. "Are you going to introduce me to your friends, Larten?" he asked.
"Of course," Mr. Crepsley said. "You know Gavner Purl."
"Gavner." The vampire nodded.
"Seba," Gavner replied.
"This is Harkat Mulds," Mr. Crepsley said.
"A Little Person," Seba noted. "I have not seen one of those since Mr. Tiny visited us when I was a boy. Greetings, Harkat Mulds."
"Hello," Harkat replied.
Seba blinked slowly. "Hetalks? "
"Wait until you hear what he has to say," Mr. Crepsley said somberly. Then, turning to me, he said, "And this is Darren Shan my assistant."
"Greetings, Darren Shan." Seba smiled at me. He looked at Mr. Crepsley strangely. "You, Larten with an assistant?"
"I know." Mr. Crepsley coughed. "I always said I would never take one."
"And so young," Seba murmured. "The Princes will not approve."
"Most probably not," Mr. Crepsley agreed miserably. Then he shook off his gloom. "Darren, Harkat this is Seba Nile, the quartermaster of Vampire Mountain. Do not let his age fool you he is as sly, cunning, and quick as any vampire, and will get the better of those who try and best him."
"As you know from experience." Seba chuckled. "Do you remember when you set out to steal half a vat of my finest wine and replace it with a lesser vintage?"
"Please," Mr. Crepsley said, looking pained. "I was young and foolish. There is no need to remind me."
"What happened?" I asked, delighted by the vampire's discomfort.
"Tell him, Larten," Seba said, and Mr. Crepsley obeyed sullenly, like a child.
"He got to the wine first," he muttered. "Emptied the vat and replaced the wine with vinegar. I had swallowed half a bottle before I realized. I spent the rest of the night retching."
"No!" Gavner burst out laughing.
"I was young," Mr. Crepsley growled. "I did not know better."
"But I taught you, Larten, did I not?" Seba remarked.
"Yes." Mr. Crepsley smiled. "Seba was my tutor. I learned most of what I know at his hands."
The three vampires started talking about old times, and I sat listening. Most of what they said went right over my head names of people and places that meant nothing to me and after a while I sat back and gazed around the cavern, studying the flickering lights of the fires and the shapes the smoke made in the air. I only realized I was dozing off when Mr. Crepsley shook me gently and my eyes snapped open.
"The boy is tired," Seba noted.
"He has never made the journey before," Mr. Crepsley said. "He is not accustomed to such hardship."
"Come," Seba said, standing. "I will find rooms for you. He is not the only one who needs to rest. We will talk more tomorrow."
As the quartermaster of Vampire Mountain, Seba was in charge of the stores and living quarters. It was his job to make sure there was enough food and drink and blood for everyone, and that every vampire had a place to sleep. There were other vampires working for him, but he was the main man. Aside from the Princes, Seba was the most respected vampire in the mountain.
Seba asked me to walk beside him as we made our way from the Hall of Osca Velm to our sleeping quarters. He pointed out various Halls as we passed, and told me their names most of which I couldn't pronounce, never mind remember and what they were used for.
"It will take a while to adjust," he said, seeing my dazed gaze. "For the first few nights you may feel lost. But in time you will grow accustomed to the place."
The network of tunnels connecting the Halls to the sleeping quarters was cold and damp, even with the torches, but the tiny rooms carved out of the rocks were bright and warm, each lit by a powerful torch. Seba asked if we wanted one big room between us, or if we'd rather have separate quarters.
"Separate," Mr. Crepsley immediately replied. "I had enough of Gavner's snoring on the trail."
"Charming!" Gavner huffed.
"Harkat and me don't mind doubling up, do we?" I said, not liking the idea of being left on my own in such a weird place.
"That's fine by me," Harkat agreed.
All the rooms had coffins instead of beds, but when Seba saw my gloomy face, he laughed and said I could have a hammock if I wanted. "I will send one of my staff to you tomorrow," he promised. "Tell him what you need and he will get it I look after my guests!"
"Thank you," I said, glad that I wouldn't have to sleep in the coffin every day.
Seba started to leave. "Wait." Mr. Crepsley called him back. "I have something to show you."
"Oh?" Seba smiled.
"Darren," Mr. Crepsley said, "fetch Madam Octa."
When Seba Nile saw the spider, his breath caught in his throat and he gazed at it as though mesmerized. "Oh, Larten," he sighed. "What a beauty!" He took the cage from me holding it carefully and opened the door.
"Stop!" I hissed. "Don't let her out she's poisonous!"
Seba only smiled and reached into the cage. "I have never met a spider I have not been able to charm," he said.
"But " I began.
"It is all right, Darren," Mr. Crepsley said. "Seba knows what he is doing."
The old vampire coaxed the spider onto his fingers and lifted her out of the cage. She squatted comfortably in the palm of his hand. Seba bent his face over her and whistled softly. The spider's legs twitched, and from her intent look, I knew he must be communicating mentally with her.
Seba stopped whistling and Madam Octa crawled up his arm. Upon reaching his shoulder, she nestled up to his chin and relaxed. I couldn't believe it! I'd always had to whistle continuously with a flute, not my lips and concentrate fiercely to keep her from biting me, but with Seba she was completely submissive.
"She is marvelous," Seba said, stroking her. "You must tell me more about her when you have a chance. I thought I knew of all the spiders in existence, but this one is new to me."
"I thought you would like her." Mr. Crepsley beamed. "That is why I brought her. I wish to make you a present of her."
"You would part with such a wonderful spider?" Seba asked.
"For you, old friend anything."
Seba smiled at Mr. Crepsley, then looked at Madam Octa. Sighing regretfully, he shook his head. "I must refuse," he said. "I am old, and not as sprightly as I used to be. I am kept busy trying to keep up with jobs I once zipped through. I do not have the time to care for such an exotic pet."
"Are you sure?" Mr. Crepsley asked, disappointed.
"I would love to take her but I cannot." He placed Madam Octa back in her cage and handed it to me. "Only the young have the energy to tend to the needs of spiders of such caliber. Look after her, Darren she is beautiful and rare."
"I'll keep my eye on her," I promised. I once thought the spider was beautiful, too, until she bit my best friend and led to me becoming a half-vampire.
"Now," Seba said, "I must go. You are not the only new arrivals. Until we meet again farewell."
There were no doors on the tiny rooms. Mr. Crepsley and Gavner bid us good night before heading for their coffins. Harkat and me stepped into our room and studied our two caskets.
"I don't think you'll fit in that," I said.
"That is .. okay. I can sleep on floor."
"In that case, see you tonight." I looked around the cave. "Or will it be morning? Impossible to tell in here."
I didn't like getting into the coffin but took comfort in the fact that it was for one time only. Lying back, I left the lid open and stared up at the rocky gray ceiling. I thought that with the excitement of having arrived at Vampire Mountain, it'd take a long time to fall asleep, but within minutes I was out and slept just as content as I would have in my hammock back at the Cirque Du Freak.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
HARKAT WAS STANDINGby his coffin when I woke up, his green eyes wide open. I stretched and said good morning. There was a brief pause, then he shook his head and looked at me. "Good morning," he replied.
"Been awake long?" I asked.
"Just woke now. When you spoke to me. Fell asleep standing up."
I frowned. "But your eyes were open."
He nodded. "Always open. No lids or lashes. Can't shut them."
The more I learned about Harkat, the weirder he got! "Does that mean you can see things while you're asleep?"
"Yes, but I take no notice of them."
Gavner appeared at the entrance to our room.
"Rise and shine, boys," he boomed. "Night's wearing on. There's work to be done. Anybody for bat broth?"
I asked to use the bathroom before we went to eat. Gavner led me to a small door with the letters WC carved into it. "What does that stand for?" I asked.
"Water closet," he informed me, then added, "Don't fall in!"
I thought that was a joke, but when I stepped inside, I realized it was a genuine warning there was no toilet in the water closet, just a round hole in the ground that led to a gurgling mountain stream. I stared down the hole it wasn't large enough for an adult to fall through, but somebody my size might just fit and shivered when I saw dark, gushing water at the bottom. I didn't like the idea of squatting over the hole, but there was no other option, so I just did it.
"Are all the toilets like that?" I asked when I came out.
"Yes." Gavner laughed. "It's the easiest way to get rid of the waste. There are a couple of big streams leading out of the mountain and the toilets are built over them. The streams wash everything away."
Gavner led Harkat and me to the Hall of Khledon Lurt. Seba Nile had pointed out the Hall to me the day before and said it was where meals were served. He also told me a little about Khledon Lurt; he had been a General of great standing, who had died saving other vampires in the fight with the vampaneze, when they broke away.
Vampires loved telling tales about their ancestors. They kept only a few written records, choosing instead to keep their history alive by word of mouth, passing on stories and legends around fires or over tables from one generation to another.
Red drapes hung from the ceiling, covering the walls, and there was a large statue of Khledon Lurt at the center of the Hall. (Like most of the mountain's sculptures, it had been carved from the bones of animals.) The Hall was lit by strong torches, and it was almost full when we arrived. Gavner, Harkat, and me sat at a table with Mr. Crepsley, Seba Nile, and a bunch of vampires I didn't know. Talk was loud and rough. A lot of it had to do with fighting and daring acts of endurance.
This was my first good look at a crowd of vampires, and I spent more time gazing around than I did eating. They didn't look that different from humans, except many were scarred from battle and hard living, and not a single one pretty obvious why! was suntanned.
They were a smelly bunch. They didn't use deodorant, although a couple had strings of wildflowers or naturally scented herbs around their necks and wrists. Although vampires made sure they washed in the world of humans a foul stench could lead a vampire hunter to his prey here in the mountain hardly any of them bothered with such luxuries. With all the soot and dirt of the Halls, they didn't see the point it was impossible to stay clean.
I noticed pretty much no women. After a long time scanning, I spotted one sitting at a table in a corner, and another serving food. Besides that, the vampires were all men. There were hardly any old people either; Seba seemed to be the oldest vampire present. I asked him about this.
"Very few vampires live to be a ripe, old age," he replied. "While vampires live far longer than humans, very few of us make it to our vampiric sixties or seventies."
"What do you mean?" I asked.
"Vampires measure age in two ways earth years and vampire years," he explained. "The vampiric age is the age of the body physically, I am in my eighties. The earth age refers to how many years a vampire has been alive I was a young boy when I was blooded, so I am seven hundred earth years old."
Sevenhundred! It was an incredible age.
"Though many vampires live for hundreds of earth years," Seba went on, "hardly any make it to their vampiric sixties."
"Why not? "I asked.
"Vampires live hard. We push ourselves to the limit, undergoing many tests of strength, wit, and courage. Hardly any sit around in pajamas and slippers, growing old quietly. Most, when they grow too old to care for themselves, meet death on their feet, rather than let their friends look after them."
"How come you've lived so long then?" I asked.
"Darren!" Mr. Crepsley snapped, shooting me a piercing glare.
"Do not chastise the boy." Seba smiled. "His open curiosity is refreshing. I have lived to this long age because of my position," he said to me. "I was asked many decades ago to become the quartermaster of Vampire Mountain. It is not an enviable job, since it means living inside hardly ever going hunting or fighting. But quartermasters are essential and much honored it would have been impolite of me to refuse. If I was free, I would have been long dead by now, but one who does not exert oneself tends to live longer than those who do."
"It seems crazy to me," I said. "Why do you push yourselves so hard?"
"It is our way," Seba answered. "Also, we have more time on our hands than humans, so it is less precious to us. If, in vampire years, a sixty-year-old man was blooded when he was twenty, he will have lived for more than four hundred earth years. A man grows tired of life when he has lived so much of it."
I was trying to see it from their point of view, but it was hard. Maybe I'd think differently when I'd been around a century or two!
Gavner rose before we finished eating and said he had to leave. He asked Harkat to accompany him.
"Where are you going?" I asked.
"The Hall of Princes," he said. "I must present myself to the Princes and tell them about the dead vampire and vampaneze we discovered. I also want to introduce Harkat, so he can pass on his message. The sooner the better, I think."
When they left, I asked Mr. Crepsley why we hadn't gone with them. "It is not our place to present ourselves to the Princes," he said. "Gavner is a General, so he has the right to ask to see the Princes. As ordinary vampires, we must wait to be invited before them."
"But you used to be a General," I reminded him. "They wouldn't mind if you popped in to say hello, would they?"
"Of course they would." Mr. Crepsley scowled, then turned to Seba and sighed. "He is slow to learn our ways."
Seba laughed. "Andyou are slow to learn the ways of the teacher. You forget how eagerly you questioned our way of life when you were blooded. I recall the night you stormed into my chambers and swore you would never become a General. You said Generals were backward imbeciles, and we should be looking to the future, not dwelling in the past."
"I never said that!" Mr. Crepsley gasped.
"You certainly did," Seba insisted. "And more! You were a fiery youth, and there were times when I thought you would never calm down. I was often tempted to dismiss you, but I did not. I let you ask your questions and air your rage, and in time you learned that yours was not the wisest head in the world, and that the old ways might indeed be best.
"Students never appreciate their teachers while they are learning. It is only later, when they know more of the world, that they understand how indebted they are to those who instructed them. Good teachers expect no praise or love from the young. They wait for it, and in time, it comes."
"Are you scolding me?" Mr. Crepsley asked.
"Yes." Seba smiled. "You are a fine vampire, Larten, but you have much to learn about teaching. Do not be so quick to criticize. Accept Darren's questions and stubbornness. Answer patiently and do not scold him for his opinions. Only in this way can he mature and develop as you did."
I extracted a guilty pleasure out of watching Mr. Crepsley being hauled down a peg or two. I was extremely close to the vampire, but his pomposity sometimes got on my nerves. It was fun to see him have his wrists slapped!
"Stop smirking!" he snapped when he saw me.
"Now, now," I scolded him. "You heard what Mr. Nile said bepatient strive tounderstand me."
Mr. Crepsley was puffing himself up to roar at me when Seba coughed discreetly. The vampire glanced at his old teacher, the air wheezed out of him, and he grinned sheepishly. Instead of giving out, he politely asked me to pass him a loaf of bread.
"My pleasure, Larten," I responded wryly, and the three of us shared a quiet laugh while the other vampires in the Hall of Khledon Lurt bellowed, told stories, and cracked mischievous jokes around us.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
AFTER BREAKFAST, MR. CREPSLEYand me went to shower, since we were filthy from the trek. He said we wouldn't wash a lot while we were here, but a shower at the start was a good idea. The Hall of Perta Vin-Grahl was a huge cavern with modest stalactites and two natural waterfalls, set close together to the right of the door. The water fell from high up into a vampire-made pond and flowed to a hole near the back of the cavern, through which it disappeared and joined up with other streams underground.
"What do you think of the waterfalls?" Mr. Crepsley asked, raising his voice to be heard over the noise of the running water.
"Beautiful," I said, admiring the way the torchlight reflected in the cascading water. "But where are the showers?"
Mr. Crepsley grinned sadistically and I realized where we were meant to wash.
"No way!" I shouted. "The water must be freezing!"
"It is," Mr. Crepsley agreed, slipping off his clothes, "but there are no other bathing facilities in Vampire Mountain."
I started to protest, but he laughed, walked to the nearest waterfall, and immersed himself in the spray. I felt chilly just looking at the vampire showering, but I'd been eager to wash, and I knew he'd mock me for the rest of our stay if I backed out. So, wriggling free of my clothes, I walked to the edge of the pond, tested the water with my toes yowch! then leaped forward and surrendered myself to the flow of the second waterfall.
"Oh, man!" I roared with ice-cold shock. "This is torture!"
"Aye!" Mr. Crepsley shouted. "Now you understand why so few vampires bother to wash while at Council!"
"Is there a law against hot water?" I screeched, furiously scrubbing my chest, back, and under my arms in a hurry to finish with the shower.
"Not as such," Mr. Crepsley replied, stepping out of his waterfall and running a hand through his short crop of orange hair, before shaking it dry like a dog.
"But cold water is good enough for nature's other creatures of the wilds we prefer not to heat it, at least not here, in the heart of our homeland."
Rough, prickly towels had been laid out close to the pond, and I wrapped myself in two of them as soon as I got out from under the waterfall. For a few minutes I felt like my blood had turned to ice, but then my sensations returned, and I was able to enjoy the warmth of the thick towels.
"Bracing," Mr. Crepsley commented, rubbing himself dry.
"Murder, more like," I grumbled, though secretly I kind of enjoyed the originality of the primitive shower.
While we were dressing, I stared at the rocky ceiling and walls and wondered how old the Halls were. I asked Mr. Crepsley.
"Nobody knows exactly when vampires first came here or how they found it," he said. "The oldest discovered artifacts date back about three thousand years, but it is likely that for a long time it was only used occasionally, by small bands of wandering vampires.
"As far as we know, the Halls were established as a permanent base about fourteen hundred years ago. That is when the first Princes moved in and the Councils began. The Halls have grown since then. There are vampires at work on the structure all the time, hollowing out new rooms, extending old ones, building tunnels. It is long, tiring work no mechanical equipment is allowed but we have plenty of time to attend to it."
By the time we emerged from the Hall of Perta Vin-Grahl, word of Harkat's message had spread. He had told the Princes that the night of the Vampaneze Lord was at hand, and the vampires were in an uproar. They milled around the mountain like ants, passing on the word to those who hadn't heard, discussing it hotly and making ridiculous plans to go out and kill all the vampaneze they could find.
Mr. Crepsley had promised to take me on a tour of the Halls, but postponed it because of the commotion. He said we'd go when things quieted down I might be trampled by agitated vampires if we went now. I was disappointed, but knew he was right. This was no time to go exploring.
When we got back to my sleeping area, a young vampire had taken away our coffins and was stringing up hammocks. He offered to find new clothes for Mr. Crepsley and me if we wanted. We thanked him and accompanied him to one of the storerooms to be outfitted. The stores of Vampire Mountain were full of treasures food and blood vats and hidden weapons but I only got a brief look at these; the young vampire took us directly to the rooms where spare clothes were stored, and left us alone to pick whatever we liked.
I searched for a costume like my old one, but there were no pirate suits, so I chose a brown sweatshirt and dark pants, with a pair of soft shoes. Mr. Crepsley dressed all in red his favorite color although these clothes were less fancy than the ones he normally wore.
It was while he was adjusting his cape that I realized how similar his dress sense and Seba Nile's were. I mentioned it to him and he smiled. "I have copied many of Seba's ways," he said. "Not just his way of dressing, but also his way of speaking. I did not always use these precise, measured tones. When I was your age, I ran my words together the same as anybody. Years spent in the company of Seba taught me to slow down and consider my words before speaking."
"You mean I might end up like you one day?" I asked, alarmed at the thought of sounding so serious and stuffy.