The Lake of Souls (2 page)

Evanna gave Vancha a thick deer hide to drape over his head and shoulders, to block out the rays of the sun. Trailing after the witch, we moved quickly through the streets. Evanna must have cast a spell to hide us, because people didn’t notice us, despite our blood-stained faces and clothes. We ended up outside the city, in a small forest, where Evanna had prepared a camp amidst the trees. At her offer, we sat and tucked into the berries, roots, and water she’d set out for us.

We ate silently. I found myself studying the witch, wondering why she was here — if she’d really come to say goodbye to Mr. Crepsley, she’d have gone down to where his body lay in the pit. Evanna was Mr. Tiny’s daughter. He had created her by mixing the blood of a vampire with that of a wolf. Vampires and vampaneze were barren — we couldn’t have children — but Evanna was supposed to be able to bear a child by a male of either clan. When we met her shortly after setting out to hunt the Vampaneze Lord, she’d confirmed Mr. Tiny’s prophecy — that we’d have four chances to kill the Lord — and added the warning that if we failed, two of us would die.

Vancha finished eating first, sat back, and burped. “Speak,” he snapped — he wasn’t in the mood for formalities.

“You’re wondering how many chances you’ve used up,” Evanna said directly. “The answer is — three. The first was when you fought the vampaneze in the glade and let their Lord escape. The second, when you discovered Steve Leonard was a half-vampaneze and took him hostage — although you had several opportunities to kill him, they count as one. The third chance was when Larten faced him on the platform above the pit of stakes.”

“That means we still have a shot at him!” Vancha hissed excitedly.

“Yes,” Evanna said. “Once more the hunters will face the Vampaneze Lord, and on that occasion the future will be decided. But that confrontation will not come in the near future. Steve Leonard has withdrawn to plot anew. For now, you may relax.”

The witch turned to me and her expression softened. “It might not lighten your load,” she said kindly, “but Larten’s soul has flown to Paradise. He died nobly and earned the reward of the righteous. He is at rest.”

“I’d rather he was here,” I said miserably, gazing at the leaves of an overhanging tree, waiting for tears that still wouldn’t come.

“What about the rest of the vampaneze?” Alice asked. “Are any of them still in my city?”

Evanna shook her head. “All have fled.”

“Will they return?” Alice asked, and by the glint in her eyes I saw she was half hoping they would, so she could settle a few scores.

“No, Evanna smiled. “But I think it’s safe to say that you will run into them again.”

“I’d better,” Alice growled, and I knew she was thinking of Morgan James, an officer of hers who’d joined the vampets. They were human allies of the vampaneze, who shaved their heads, daubed blood around their eyes, sported V tattoos above their ears, and dressed in brown uniforms.

“Is the nightmare over then?” Debbie asked, wiping her dark cheeks clean. The teacher had fought like a tigress in the tunnels, but the events of the night had caught up with her and she was shivering helplessly.

“For you — for now,” Evanna answered cryptically.

“What does that mean?” Debbie frowned.

“You and the Chief Inspector can choose to distance yourselves from the War of the Scars,” Evanna said. “You can return to your ordinary lives and pretend this never happened. If you do, the vampaneze won’t come after you again.”

“Of course we’ll return to our lives,” Alice said. “What else can we do? We’re not vampires. We don’t have any further part to play in their war.”

“Perhaps,” Evanna said. “Or perhaps you’ll think differently when you’ve had time to reconsider. You’ll return to the city — you need time to reflect, and you have affairs to put in order — but whether or not you’ll choose to stay …” Evanna’s eyes flicked over Vancha, Harkat, and me. “And where do you three wish to go?”

“I’m continuing after that monster, Leonard,” Vancha said immediately.

“You may if you wish,” Evanna shrugged, “but you’ll be wasting your time and energy. Moreover, you will jeopardize your position. Although you are fated to confront him again, it’s not written in stone — by pursuing him now, you might miss the final destined showdown.”

Vancha cursed bitterly, then asked Evanna where she suggested he should go.

“Vampire Mountain,” she said. “Your clan should be told about the Vampaneze Lord. They must not kill him themselves — that rule still applies — but they can scout for him and point you in the right direction.”

Vancha nodded slowly. “I’ll call a temporary end to the fighting and set everyone searching for him. I’ll flit for Vampire Mountain as soon as night falls. Darren — are you and Harkat coming?”

I looked at my fellow Prince, then down at the hard brown earth of the forest floor. “No,” I said softly. “I’ve had all I can take of vampires and vampaneze. I know I’m a Prince and have duties to attend to. But I feel like my head’s about to explode. Mr. Crepsley meant more to me than anything else. I need to get away from it all, maybe for a while — maybe forever.”

“It’s a dangerous time to cut yourself off from those who care for you,” Vancha said quietly.

“I can’t help that,” I sighed.

Vancha was troubled by my choice, but he accepted it. “I don’t approve — a Prince should put the needs of his people before his own — but I understand. I’ll explain it to the others. Nobody will trouble you.” He cocked an eyebrow at Harkat. “I suppose you’ll be going with him?”

Harkat lowered the mask from his mouth (air was poisonous to the grey-skinned Little People) and smiled thinly. “Of course.” Mr. Tiny had resurrected Harkat from the dead. Harkat didn’t know who he used to be, but he believed he could find out by sticking with me.

“Where will you go?” Vancha asked. “I can find you using the Stone of Blood, but it’ll be easier if I have a rough idea of where you’re heading.”

“I don’t know,” I said. “I’ll just pick a direction and …” I stopped as a picture flashed through my thoughts, of circus vans, snake-boys and hammocks. “The Cirque Du Freak,” I decided. “It’s the nearest place outside Vampire Mountain that I can call home.”

“A good choice,” Evanna said, and by the way her lips lifted at the edges, I realized the witch had known all along that I’d choose to return to the Cirque.

We went our separate ways as the sun was setting, even though we hadn’t slept and were ready to drop with exhaustion. Vancha departed first, on his long trek to Vampire Mountain. He said little when leaving, but hugged me hard and hissed in my ear, “Be brave!”

“You too,” I whispered back.

“We’ll kill Leonard next time,” he vowed.

“Aye,” I grinned weakly.

He turned and ran, hitting flitting speed seconds later, vanishing into the gloom of the dusk.

Debbie and Alice left next, to return to the city. Debbie asked me to stay with her, but I couldn’t, not as things stood. I needed to be by myself for a while. She wept and clutched me close. “Will you come back later?” she asked.

“I’ll try,” I croaked.

“If he doesn’t,” Evanna said, “you can always go looking for him.” She handed a folded-up piece of paper to Alice Burgess. “Hold on to that. Keep it closed. When the two of you decide upon your course, open it.”

The Chief Inspector asked no questions, just tucked the paper away and waited for Debbie to join her. Debbie looked at me pleadingly. She wanted me to go with her — or ask her to come with me — but there was a huge ball of grief sitting cold and hard in my gut. I couldn’t think of anything else right now.

“Take care,” I said, turning aside and breaking eye contact.

“You too,” she croaked, then sobbed loudly and stumbled away. With a quick “Goodbye,” Alice hurried after her and the two women slipped through the trees, back to the city, supporting one another as they went.

That left just me, Harkat and Evanna.

“Any idea where the Cirque’s playing?” the witch asked. We shook our heads. “Then it’s lucky that I do and am going there.” She smiled. Standing between us, she looped her arms around my left arm and Harkat’s right, and led us through the forest, away from the city and its underground caverns of death, back to where my voyage into the night first started — the Cirque Du Freak.

CHAPTER TWO

A
LEXANDER RIBS WAS SLEEPING
in a large tire hanging from a tree. He always slept curled up — it kept his body supple and made it easier for him to twist and contort when he was performing. Normally he kept the tire on a special stand in his caravan, but occasionally he’d drag it outside and sleep in the open. It was a cold night for sleeping outdoors — the middle of a wintry November — but he had a thick, fur-lined body bag to keep the chill out.

As Alexander snored musically a young boy crept toward him, a cockroach in his right hand, with the intention of dropping it into Alexander’s mouth. Behind him, his older brother and younger sister looked on with impish glee, urging him forward with harsh hand gestures whenever he paused nervously.

As the boy neared the tire and held up the cockroach, his mother — always alert to mischief — stuck her head out of a nearby tent, ripped her left ear off and threw it at him. It spun through the air like a boomerang and knocked the cockroach from the boy’s pudgy fingers. Yelping, he raced back to his brother and sister, while Alexander slept on, unaware of his narrow escape.

“Urcha!” Merla snapped, catching her ear as it circled back, then reattaching it to her head. “If I catch you bothering Alexander again, I’ll lock you in with the Wolf-Man until morning!”

“Shancus made me do it!” Urcha whined, receiving a dig in the ribs from his older brother.

“I don’t doubt he put you up to it,” Merla growled, “but you’re old enough to know better. Don’t do it again, Shancus!” she added. The snake-boy looked at his mother innocently. “If Urcha or Lilia get into trouble tonight, I’ll hold you responsible.”

“I didn’t do anything!” Shancus shouted. “They’re always —”

“Enough!” Merla cut him short. She started toward her children, then saw me sitting in the shadow of the tree next to the one Alexander Ribs was hanging from. Her expression softened. “Hello, Darren,” she said. “What are you doing?”

“Looking for cockroaches,” I said, managing a short smile. Merla and her husband, Evra Von — a snake-man and one of my oldest friends — had been very kind to me since I’d arrived a couple of weeks earlier. Though I found it hard to respond to their kindness in my miserable mood, I made as much of an effort as I could.

“It’s cold,” Merla noted. “Shall I fetch you a blanket?”

I shook my head. “It takes more than a slight frost to chill a half-vampire.”

“Well, would you mind keeping an eye on these three as long as you’re outside?” she asked. “Evra’s snake is molting. If you can keep the kids out of the way, it’d be a real help.”

“No problem,” I said, rising and dusting myself down as she went back inside the tent. I walked over to the three Von children. They gazed up at me uncertainly. I’d been unusually solemn since returning to the Cirque Du Freak, and they weren’t quite sure what to make of me. “What would you like to do?” I asked.

“Cockroach!” Lilia squealed. She was only three years old, but looked five or six because of her rough, colored scales. Like Shancus, Lilia was half-human, half-snake. Urcha was an ordinary human, though he wished he could be like the other two, and sometimes glued painted scraps of aluminum foil to his body, driving his mother wild with exasperation.

“No more cockroaches,” I said. “Anything else?”

“Show us how you drink blood,” Urcha said, and Shancus hissed at him angrily.

“What’s wrong?” I asked Shancus, who’d been named in my honor.

“He’s not supposed to say that,” Shancus said, slicking back his yellow-green hair. “Mom told us not to say anything about vampires — it might upset you.”

I smiled. “Moms worry about silly things. Don’t worry — you can say whatever you like. I don’t mind.”

“Can you show us how you drink then?” Urcha asked again.

“Sure, I said, then spread my arms, pulled a scary face, and made a deep groaning noise. The children shrieked with delight and ran away. I plodded after them, threatening to rip their stomachs open and drink all their blood.

Although I was able to put on a merry display for the kids, inside I felt as empty as ever. I still hadn’t come to terms with Mr. Crepsley’s death. I was sleeping very little, no more than an hour or two most nights, and I’d lost my appetite. I hadn’t drunk blood since leaving the city. Nor had I washed, changed out of my clothes, cut my nails — they grew quicker than a human’s — or cried. I felt hollow and lost, and nothing in the world seemed worthwhile.

When I’d arrived at the Cirque, Mr. Tall had spent the day locked in his trailer with Evanna. They emerged late that night and Evanna took off without a word. Mr. Tall checked that Harkat and I were OK, then set us up with a tent, hammocks and anything else we required. Since then he’d spent a lot of time talking with me, recounting tales of Mr. Crepsley and what the pair of them had gotten up to in the past. He kept asking me to chip in with my own recollections, but I could only smile faintly and shake my head. I found it impossible to mention the dead vampire’s name without my stomach tightening and my head pulsing with pain.

I hadn’t said much to Harkat lately. He wanted to discuss our friend’s death but I couldn’t talk about it, and kept turning him away, which upset him. I was being selfish, but I couldn’t help it. My sorrow was all-consuming and endless, cutting me off from those who cared and wished to help.

Ahead, the Von children stopped, grabbed twigs and pebbles, and threw them at me. I stooped to grab a stick, but as I did, my thoughts flashed back to that underground cavern and Mr. Crepsley’s face as he let go of Steve and crashed upon the fiery stakes. Sighing mournfully, I sat down in the middle of the clearing, taking no notice as the Vons covered me with moss and dirt and prodded me curiously. They thought this was part of the game. I hadn’t the heart to tell them otherwise, so I just sat still until they grew bored and wandered away. Then I remained there, filthy and alone, as the night darkened and grew colder around me.