Debbie froze at the kiss, then took a step back. "Don't do that."
"Sorry. Just glad to see you."
"I'm glad to see you too. But if anyone sees me kissing a student "
"Oh, Debbie, I'm not really a student. You know that. I'm old enough to be Well, you know how old I am."
"I thought I did. But your face " She traced the outline of my jaw, then my lips and nose, then the small triangular scar above my right eye. "You've been in the wars," she noted.
"You wouldn't believe it if I told you how right you are," I smiled.
"Darren Shan." She shook her head and repeated my name. "Darren Shan."
Then she slapped me!
"What's that for?" I yelped.
"For leaving without saying goodbye and ruining my Christmas," she growled.
"That was thirteen years ago. Surely you're not still upset about it."
"The Hemlocks can carry a grudge a long, long time," she said, but there was the glint of a smile in her eyes.
"I did leave you a going-away present," I said.
For a moment her face was blank. Then she remembered. "The tree!"
Mr Crepsley and me had killed the mad vampaneze Murlough in Debbie's house on Christmas Eve, after using her as bait to lure him out of his lair. Before leaving, I'd placed a small Christmas tree by her bedside and decorated it (I'd drugged Debbie and her parents earlier, so they were unconscious when Murlough attacked).
"I'd forgotten about the tree," she muttered. "Which brings us to another point what happened back then? One moment we were sitting down to dinner, the next I woke up in bed and it was late Christmas Day. Mum and Dad woke in their beds too, with no idea of how they got there."
"How are Donna and Jesse?" I asked, trying to avoid her question.
"Fine. Dad's still travelling the world, going wherever his work takes him, and Mum's started a new No," she said, prodding me in the chest. "Forget what's been going on withme . I want to know what's up withyou . For thirteen years you've been a fond memory. I tried finding you a few times, but you'd vanished without a trace. Now you waltz back into my life, looking as though the years had been months. I want to know what gives."
"It's a long story," I sighed. "And complicated."
"I've got time," she sniffed.
"No, you haven't," I contradicted her, nodding at the closed classroom door.
"Damn. I forgot about them." She strode to the door and opened it. The kids inside had been talking loudly, but they stopped at the sight of their teacher. "Get out your books!" she snapped. "I'll be with you presently." Facing me again, she said, "You're right we don't have time. And my schedule's full for the rest of the day I've a teachers' meeting to attend during lunch. But we have to get together soon and talk."
"How about after school?" I suggested. "I'll go home, change clothes, and we can meet where?"
"My place," Debbie said. "I live on the third floor of an apartment block. 3c, Bungrove Drive. It's about a ten-minute walk from here."
"I'll find it."
"But give me a couple of hours to correct homework," she said. "Don't come before half-six."
"Sounds perfect."
"Darren Shan," she whispered, a small smile lifting the corners of her mouth. "Who'd have believed it?" She leant towards me, and I thought hoped! she was going to kiss me, but then she stopped, adopted a stern expression and pushed me back into class ahead of her.
The lesson passed in a blur. Debbie tried hard not to pay special attention to me, but our eyes kept meeting and we were unable to stop smiling. The others kids noted the remarkable bond between us and it was the talk of the school by lunchtime. If the students had been suspicious of me at the start of the day, now they were downright wary, and everyone gave me a wide berth.
I breezed through the later classes. It didn't bother me that I was out of my depth and ignorant of the subject matter. I no longer cared or tried to act clued up. Debbie was all I could think about. Even when Mr Smarts threw my maths copy at me in science and bawled furiously, I only smiled, nodded and tuned him out.
At the end of the day I rushed back to the hotel. I'd been given the key to a locker, where I was supposed to leave my books, but I was so excited I didn't bother with it, and carried the full bag of books home with me. Mr Crepsley was still in bed when I arrived, but Harkat was awake, and I hurriedly told him about my day and meeting Debbie.
"Isn't it wonderful?" I finished breathlessly. "Isn't it incredible? Isn't it the most " I couldn't think of any way to describe it, so I simply threw my hands into the air and yelled, "Yahoo!"
"It's great," Harkat said, wide mouth spreading into a jagged smile, but he didn't sound happy.
"What's wrong?" I asked, reading the unease in his round green eyes.
"Nothing," he said. "It's great. Really. I'm thrilled for you."
"Don't lie to me, Harkat. Something's bugging you. What?"
He came out with it. "Doesn't this seem a bit too coincidental?"
"What do you mean?"
"Of all the schools you could have gone to all the teachers in the world you end up at the one where your old girlfriend's teaching? And in her class?"
"Life's like that, Harkat. Strange things happen all the time."
"Yes," the Little Person agreed. "And sometimes they happen by chance. But other times they're arranged."
I'd been unbuttoning my shirt, having slipped off my jumper and tie. Now I paused, fingers on the buttons, and studied him. "What are you saying?"
"Something smells rotten. If you'd run into Debbie in the street, that would be something else. But you're in her class at a school where you shouldn't be. Somebody set you up to go to Mahler's, someone who knows about Murlough, and about your past."
"You think the person who forged our signatures knew Debbie was working at Mahler's?" I asked.
"That's obvious," Harkat said. "And that in itself is cause for worry. But there's something else we must consider. What if the person who set you up didn't justknow about Debbie what if itwas Debbie?"
CHAPTER SEVEN
ICOULDN'Tbelieve Debbie was in league with the vampaneze or Mr Tiny, or had played any part in setting me up to go to Mahler's. I told Harkat how stunned she'd been to see me, but he said she might have been acting. "If she went to all the trouble of getting you there, she'd hardlynot act surprised," he noted.
I shook my head stubbornly. "She wouldn't do something like this."
"I don't know her, so I can't voice an opinion. Butyou don't really know her either. She was a child when you last saw her. People change as they grow."
"You don't think I should trust her?"
"I'm not saying that. Maybe she's genuine. Maybe she had nothing to do with faking the forms, or with you being there itcould be a huge coincidence. But caution is required. Go see her, but keep an eye on her. Be careful what you say. Put some probing questions to her. And take a weapon."
"I couldn't hurt her," I said quietly. "Even if she has plotted against us, there's no way I could kill her."
"Take one anyway," Harkat insisted. "If she's working with the vampaneze, it may not be her you have to use it on."
"You reckon the vampaneze could be lying in wait there?"
"Maybe. We couldn't understand why the vampaneze if they're behind the fake forms would send you to school. If they're working with Debbie or using her this might explain it."
"You mean they want to get me at Debbie's alone, so they can pick me off?"
"They might."
I nodded thoughtfully. I didn't believe Debbie was working with our foes, but it was possible that they were manipulating her to get to me. "How should we handle this?" I asked.
Harkat's green eyes betrayed his uncertainty. "I'm not sure. It would be foolish to walk into a trap. But sometimes risks must be taken. Perhaps this is our way to flush out those who would ensnare us."
Chewing my lower lip, I brooded upon it a while, then followed the most sensible course of action I went and woke Mr Crepsley.
I rang the bell for 3c and waited. A moment later, Debbie'svoice came over the intercom. "Darren?"
"The one and only."
"You're late." It was twenty past seven. The sun was setting.
"Got stuck doing homework. Blame my English teacher she's a real dragon."
"Ha-flaming-ha."
There was a buzzing noise and the door opened. I paused before entering and looked across the street at the opposite block of apartments. I spotted a lurking shadow on the roof Mr Crepsley. Harkat was behind Debbie's building. Both would rush to my rescue at the first sign of trouble. That was the plan we'd hatched. Mr Crepsley had suggested beating a hasty retreat things were getting too complicated for his liking but when I pulled rank, he'd agreed to make the most of the situation and attempt to turn the tables on our opponents if they showed.
"If a fight develops," he warned me before setting out, "it may not be possible to choose targets. You are not prepared to raise a hand against your friend, butI am, if she is working with the enemy. Do not get in my way if that happens."
I nodded grimly. I wasn't sure I could stand by and let him harm Debbie, even if it turned out that she was conspiring against us but I'd try.
Trotting up the stairs, I was painfully aware of the two knives I was carrying, strapped to my calves so as not to show. I hoped I wouldn't have to use them, but it was good to know they were there if needed.
The door to 3c was open, but I knocked before entering. "Come in," Debbie called. "I'm in the kitchen."
I closed the door but didn't lock it. Quickly scanned the apartment. Very tidy. Several bookcases, overflowing with books. A CD player and stand; lots of CDs. A portable TV set. A cover poster ofThe Lord of the Rings on one wall, a picture of Debbie with her parents on another.
Debbie stepped in from the kitchen. She was wearing a long red apron and there was flour in her hair. "I got bored waiting for you," she said, "so I started to make scones. Do you like yours with currants or without?"
"Without," I said and smiled as she ducked back into the kitchen killers and their cohorts don't greet you with flour in their hair! Any half-doubts I had about Debbie quickly vanished and I knew I'd nothing to fear from her. But I didn't drop my guard Debbie didn't pose a threat, but there might be vampaneze in the room next door or hovering on the fire escape.
"How did you enjoy your first day at school?" Debbie asked, as I wandered round the living room.
"It was strange. I haven't been inside a school since Well, it's been a long time. So much has changed. When I was " I stopped. The cover of a book had caught my eye:The Three Musketeers . "Is Donna still making you read this?"
Debbie poked her head through the doorway and looked at the book. "Oh," she laughed. "I was reading that when we first met, wasn't I?"
"Yep. You hated it."
"Really? That's odd I love it now. It's one of my favourites. I recommend it to my pupils all the time."
Shaking my head wryly, I laid the book down and went to view the kitchen. It was small, but professionally organized. There was a lovely smell of fresh dough. "Donna taught you well," I remarked. Debbie's mum used to be a chef.
"She wouldn't let me leave home until I could run a good kitchen," Debbie smiled. "Graduating university was easier than passing the tests she set."
"You've been to university?" I asked.
"I'd hardly be teaching if I hadn't."
Laying a tray of unbaked scones into a petite oven, she switched off the light and motioned me back to the living room. As I flopped into one of the soft chairs she went to the CD stand and looked for something to play. "Any preferences?"
"Not really."
"I don't have much in the way of pop or rock. Jazz or classical?"
"I don't mind."
Choosing a CD, she took it out of its case, inserted it in the player and turned it on. She stood by the player a couple of minutes while flowing, lifting music filled the air. "Like it?" she asked.
"Not bad. What is it?"
"The Titan. Do you know who it's by?"
"Mahler?" I guessed.
"Right. I thought I'd play it for you, so you're familiar with it Mr Chivers gets very upset if his students don't recognize Mahler." Taking the chair next to mine, Debbie studied my face in silence. I felt uncomfortable, but didn't turn away. "So," she sighed. "Want to tell me about it?"
I'd discussed what I should tell her with Mr Crepsley and Harkat, and quickly launched into the story we'd settled upon. I said I was the victim of an ageing disease, which meant I aged slower than normal people. I reminded her of the snake-boy, Evra Von, whom she'd met, and said the two of us were patients at a special clinic.
"You aren't brothers?" she asked.
"No. And the man we were with wasn't our father he was a nurse at the hospital. That's why I never let you meet him it was fun, having you think I was an ordinary person, and I didn't want him giving the game away."
"So how oldare you?" she enquired.
"Not much older than you," I said. "The disease didn't set in until I was twelve. I wasn't very different to other children until then."
She considered that in her careful, thoughtful manner. "If that's true," she said, "what are you doing in school now? And why pick mine?"
"I didn't know you were working at Mahler's," I said. "That's a freak occurrence. I've returned to school because It's hard to explain. I didn't get a proper education when I was growing up. I was rebellious and spent a lot of time off fishing or playing football when I should have been learning. Lately I've been feeling like I missed out. A few weeks ago I met a man who forges papers passports, birth certificates, stuff like that. I asked him to set me up with a fake ID, so I could pretend I was fifteen."
"Whatever for?" Debbie asked. "Why didn't you go to an adult night school?"
"Because, looks-wise, I'mnot an adult." I pulled a sad face. "You don't know how miserable it gets, growing so slowly, explaining myself to strangers, knowing they're talking about me. I don't mingle much. I live alone and stay indoors most of the time. I felt this was an opportunity to pretend I was normal. I thought I could fit in with the people I most resemble fifteen year olds. I hoped, if I dressed and talked like them, and went to school with them, maybe they'd accept me and I wouldn't feel so lonely." Lowering my gaze; I added mournfully, "I guess the pretence stops now."
There was a silent beat. Another. Then Debbie said, "Why should it?"
"Because you know about me. You'll tell Mr Chivers. I'll have to leave."
Debbie reached across and took my left hand in hers. "I think you're crazy," she said. "Practically everyone I know couldn't wait to leave school, and here you are, desperate to return. But I admire you for this. I think it's great that you want to learn. I think you're very brave, and I won't say anything about it."
"Really?"
"I think you'll be found out eventually an act like this is impossible to sustain but I won't blow the whistle on you."
"Thanks, Debbie. I " Clearing my throat, I looked at our joined hands. "I'd like to kiss you to thank you but I don't know if you want me to."
Debbie frowned, and I could see what she was thinking was it acceptable for a teacher to let one of her pupils kiss her? Then she chuckled and said, "OK but just on my cheek."
Lifting my head, I leant over and brushed her cheek with my lips. I would have liked to kiss her properly, but knew I couldn't. Although we were of similar ages, in her eyes I was still a teenager. There was a line between us we couldn't step over much as the adult within me hungered to cross it.
We talked for hours. I learnt all about Debbie's life, how she'd gone to university after school, studied English and sociology, graduated and went on to become a teacher. After a few part-time appointments elsewhere, she'd applied for a number of permanent positions here she'd seen out her schooldays in this city, and felt it was the nearest place she had to a home. She ended up at Mahler's. She'd been there two years and loved it. There'd been men in her life she'd been engaged at one stage! but none at the moment. And she said very pointedly that she wasn't looking for any either!
She asked me about that night thirteen years ago and what had happened to her and her parents. I lied and said there'd been something wrong with the wine. "You all fell asleep at the table. I rang for the nurse who was looking after Evra and me. He came, checked, said you were OK and would be fine when you woke. We put the three of you to bed and I slipped away. I've never been good at saying farewell."
I told Debbie I was living alone. If she checked with Mr Blaws, she'd know that was a lie, but I didn't think ordinary teachers mixed much with inspectors.
"It's going to be bizarre having you in my class," she murmured. We were sitting on the couch. "We'll have to be careful. If anyone suspects there was ever anything between us, we must tell the truth. It'd mean my career if we didn't."
"Maybe it's a problem we won't have to worry about much longer," I said.
"What do you mean?"
"I don't think I'm cut out for school. I'm behind in all the subjects. In some maths and science I'm not even within sighting distance of everyone else. I think I'll have to drop out."
"That's quitting talk," she growled, "and I won't stand for it." She popped one of the scones they were chestnut brown, smeared with butter and jam into my mouth and made me munch on it. "Finish what you start or you'll regret it."
"Buh I cahn't duh iht," I mumbled, mouth full of scone.
"Of course you can," she insisted. "It won't be easy. You'll have to study hard, maybe get some private tuition " She stopped and her face lit up. "That's it!"
"What?" I asked.
"You can come tome for lessons."
"What sort of lessons?"
She punched my arm. "School lessons, you ninny! You can come round for an hour or two after school every day. I'll help you with your homework and fill you in on stuff you've missed."
"You wouldn't mind?" I asked.
"Of course not," she smiled. "It will be a pleasure."
Enjoyable as the night was, it had to end eventually. I'd forgotten about the possible threat of the vampaneze, but when Debbie excused herself and went to the bathroom, I fell to thinking about them, and wondered if Mr Crepsley or Harkat had sighted any I didn't want to come to Debbie's for lessons if it meant getting her mixed up in our dangerous affairs.
If I waited for her to return, I might forget about the threat again, so I composed a quick note 'Have to go. Wonderful to see you. Meet you at school in the morning. Hope you won't mind if I don't do my homework!' left it on the bare plate which had contained the scones, and ducked out as quietly as possible.
I trotted down the stairs, humming happily, paused outside the main door at the bottom and let rip with three long whistles my signal to Mr Crepsley to let him know that I was leaving. Then I made my way round to the back of the building and found Harkat hiding behind a couple of large black rubbish bins. "Any trouble?" I asked.
"None," he replied. "Nobody's gone near the place."
Mr Crepsley arrived and crouched behind the bins with us. He looked more solemn than usual. "Spot any vampaneze?" I asked.
"No."
"Mr Tiny?"
"No."
"Things are looking good then," I smiled.
"What about Debbie?" Harkat asked. "Is she on the level?"
"Oh, yes." I gave them a quick account of my conversation with Debbie. Mr Crepsley said nothing, only grunted as I filled him in. He appeared very moody and distant.
" so we've arranged to meet each evening after school," I finished. "We haven't set a time yet. I wanted to discuss it with you two first, to see if you want to shadow us when we meet. I don't think there's any need I'm sure Debbie isn't part of a plot but if you want, we can schedule the lessons for late at night."
Mr Crepsley sighed half-heartedly. "I do not think that will be necessary. I have scouted the area thoroughly. There is no evidence of the vampaneze. It would be preferable if you came in daylight, but not essential."
"Is that a seal of approval?"
"Yes." Again he sounded unusually downhearted.
"What's wrong?" I asked. "You're not still suspicious of Debbie, are you?"
"It has nothing to do with her. I " He looked at us sadly. "I have bad news."
"Oh?" Harkat and me exchanged uncertain glances.
"Mika Ver Leth transmitted a short telepathic message to me while you were inside."
"Is this about the Lord of the Vampaneze?" I asked nervously.
"No. It is about our friend, your fellow Prince, Paris Skyle. He " Mr Crepsley sighed again, then said dully, "Paris is dead."
CHAPTER EIGHT
THE DEATHof the ancient Prince should have come as no great surprise he was the wrong side of eight hundred, the War of the Scars had taken its toll on him, and I remembered thinking when I left Vampire Mountain how poorly he looked but I hadn't expected him to go this quickly, and the news knocked the wind out of me.
As far as Mr Crepsley knew, the Prince had died of natural causes. He wouldn't be sure until he got to Vampire Mountain vampires could only send basic telepathic messages but there'd been no hint of foul play in Mika's message.
I wanted to go with him to the funeral it would be a huge affair, which almost every vampire in the world would attend but Mr Crepsley asked me not to. "One Prince must always remain absent from Vampire Mountain," he reminded me, "in case anything happens to the others. I know you were fond of Paris, but Mika, Arrow and Vancha knew him far longer than you. It would be unfair to ask one of them to give up their place."
I was disappointed, but bowed to his wishes it would have been selfish of me to put myself before the elder Princes. "Tell them to be careful," I warned him. "I don't want to be the only Prince left if they all perished together, and I had to lead the clan by myself, it would be a disaster!"
"You can say that again," Harkat laughed, but there was no merriment in his voice. "Can I come with you?" he asked Mr Crepsley. "I'd like to pay my respects."
"I would rather you remained with Darren," Mr Crepsley said. "I do not like the idea of leaving him on his own."
Harkat nodded immediately. "You're right. I'll stay."
"Thanks," I said softly.
"Now," Mr Crepsley mused, "that leaves us with the question of whether you hold camp here or locate elsewhere."
"We'll stay, of course," I said rather quickly.
Morose as he was, the vampire managed a wry smile. "I thought you would say that. I glimpsed you through the window as you kissed your teachers cheek."
"You were spying on me!" I huffed.
"That was the general idea, was it not?" he replied. I sputtered indignantly, but of course thathad been the plan. "You and Harkat should withdraw while I am away," Mr Crepsley continued. "If you come under attack, you will be hard-pushed to defend yourselves."
"I'm ready to risk it if Harkat is," I said.
Harkat shrugged. "The thought of staying doesn't frighten me."
"Very well," Mr Crepsley sighed. "But promise me you will abandon the search for the killers while I am absent, and do nothing to endanger yourselves."
"You've no fear on that score," I told him. "Chasing killers is the last thing an my mind. I've something far more terrifying to deal with homework!"
Mr Crepsley wished us well, then hurried back to the hotel to gather his belongings and depart. He was gone when we got there, probably already at the edge of the city, getting ready to flit. It felt lonely without him, and a little bit scary, but we weren't too worried. He should only be gone a few weeks at most. What could possibly go wrong in so short a time?
The next fortnight was tough. With Mr Crepsley out of the city, the hunt for the vampaneze suspended, and the death count stable (nobody new had been killed recently), I was able to concentrate on school which was just as well, given the amount of work I had to put into it.
Debbie pulled some strings to lighten my load. Guided by her, I played up the effects of the imaginary fire I'd been trapped in and said I'd missed a lot of school. I explained the good marks by saying my father had been best friends with the headmaster of my old school. Mr Chivers was decidedly unimpressed when he heard that, but Debbie convinced him not to take matters further.
I opted out of modern languages and dropped back a couple of years in maths and science. I felt more peculiar than ever sitting amidst a bunch of thirteen year olds, but at least I was able to follow what they were doing. I still had Mr Smarts for science, but he was more understanding now that he knew I hadn't been faking ignorance, and spent a lot of time helping me catch up.
I faced difficulties in English, history and geography, but with the extra free periods I had instead of languages, I was able to focus on them and was gradually pulling even with the others in my class.
I enjoyed mechanical drawing and computer studies. My Dad had taught me the basics of MD when I was a kid he'd hoped I'd go into draughtsmanship when I grew up and I quickly picked up on what I'd missed. To my surprise, I took to computers like a vampire to blood, aided by my super-fast fingers, which could speed about a keyboard faster than any human typist's.
I had to keep a close watch on my powers. I was finding it hard to make friends my classmates were still suspicious of me but I knew I could become popularif I took part in the lunchtime sporting activities. I could shine in any game football, basketball, handball and everyone likes a winner. The temptation to show off, and earn a few friends in the process, was strong.
But I resisted. The risk was too great. It wasn't just the possibility that I'd do something superhuman like leap higher than a professional basketball player which might tip people off to my powers, but the fear that I might injure somebody. If someone dug me in the ribs while playing football, I might lose my temper and take a punch at him, and my punches could put a human in hospital, or worse a morgue!
PE was therefore a frustrating class I had to deliberately mask my strength behind a clumsy, pathetic facade. English, oddly enough, was a pain too. It was great to be with Debbie, but when we were in class we had to act like an ordinary teacher and student. There could be no undue familiarity. We maintained a cool, distant air, which made the forty minutes eighty on Wednesdays and Fridays, when I had double English pass with agonizing slowness.
After school and at weekends, when I went round to her apartment for private tuition, it was different. There we could relax and discuss whatever we wanted; we could curl up on the couch with a bottle of wine and watch an old film on the TV, or listen to music and chat about the past.
I ate at Debbie's most nights. She loved cooking, and we experimented with a variety of culinary feasts. I soon put on weight, and had to go jogging late at night to keep myself trim.
But it wasn't all relaxation and good food with Debbie. She was determined to educate me to a satisfactory level and spent two or three hours every evening working on my subjects with me. It wasn't easy for her apart from being tired after her day at work, she didn't know a lot about maths, science and geography but she stuck with it and set an example which I felt compelled to follow.
"Your grammar's shaky," she said one night, reading through an essay I'd written, "Your English is good but you have some bad habits you need to break."
"Such as?"
"This sentence, for instance: 'John and me went to the store to buy a magazine.' What's wrong with that?"
I thought about it. "We went to buy newspapers?" I suggested innocently.
Debbie threw the copy at me. "Seriously," she giggled.
I picked up the copy and studied the sentence. "It should be 'John andI' ?" I guessed.
"Yes," she nodded. "You use 'and me' all the time. It's not grammatically correct. You'll have to rise out of it."
"I know," I sighed. "But it'll be tough. I keep a diary, and for the last fifteen years I've been using 'and me' it just seems more natural."
"Nobody ever said English was natural," Debbie scolded me, then cocked an eyebrow and added, "I didn't know you kept a diary."
"I've kept one since I was nine years old. All my secrets are in it."
"I hope you don't write aboutme . If it fell into the wrong hands "
"Hmm," I smirked. "I could blackmail you if I wanted, couldn't I?"