"I have to go back," I said regretfully, "but I'll try to drop by soon."
"Do," Harkat said seriously. "You look exhausted. Paris is not the only one who needs rest."
Harkat had to leave shortly afterwards to prepare for the arrival of a group of Generals. I lay in my hammock and stared at the dark rock ceiling, unable to get back to sleep. This was the cell Harkat and me had first shared when we came to Vampire Mountain. I liked this tiny cubbyhole it was the closest thing I had to a bedroom but rarely got to see much of it. Most of my nights were spent in the Hall of Princes, and the few free hours I had by day were normally passed eating or exercising.
I ran a hand over my bald head while I was resting and thought back over my Trials of Initiation. I'd sailed through them the second time. I didn't have to take them as a Prince, I was under no obligation but I wouldn't have felt rightif I hadn't. By passing the Trials, I'd proved myself worthy of being a vampire.
Apart from the scars and burns, I hadn't changed much in the last six years. As a half-vampire, I only aged one year for every five that passed. I was a bit taller than when I left the Cirque Du Freak with Mr Crepsley, and my features had thickened and matured slightly. But I wasn't a full-vampire and wouldn't change vastly until I became one. As a full-vampire I'd be much stronger. I'd also be able to heal cuts with my spit, breathe out a gas which could knock people unconscious, and communicate telepathically with other vampires. Plus I'd be able to flit, which is a super-fast speed vampires can attain. On the down side, I'd be vulnerable to sunlight and couldn't move about during the day.
But all that lay far ahead. Mr Crepsley hadn't said anything about when I'd be fully blooded, but I gathered it wouldn't happen until I was an adult. That was ten or fifteen years away my body was still that of a teenager so I had loads of time to enjoy (or endure) my extended childhood.
I lay relaxing for another half hour, then got up and dressed. I'd taken to wearing light blue clothes, trousers and a tunic, covered by a long, regal-looking robe. My right thumb snagged on the arm of the tunic as I was pulling it on, as it often did I'd broken the thumb six years ago and it still stuck out at an awkward angle.
Taking care not to rip the fabric on my extra tough nails which could gouge holes in soft rock I freed my thumb and finished dressing. I pulled on a pair of light shoes and ran a hand over my head to make sure I hadn't been bitten by ticks. They'd popped up all over the mountain recently, annoying everyone. Then I made my way back to the Hall of Princes for another long night of tactics and debate.
CHAPTER THREE
THE DOORSto the Hall of Princes could only be opened by a Prince, by laying a hand on the doors or touching a panel on the thrones inside the Hall. Nothing could breach the walls of the Hall, which had been built by Mr Tiny and his Little People centuries before.
The Stone of Blood was housed in the Hall, and was of vital importance. It was a magical artefact. Any vampire who came to the mountain (most of the three thousand vampires in the world had made the trek at least once) laid their hands on the Stone and let it absorb some of their blood. The Stone could then be used to track that vampire down. So, if Mr Crepsley wanted to know where Arrow was, he had only to lay his hands on the Stone and think about him, and within seconds he'd have a fix on the Prince. Or, if he thought of an area, the Stone would tell him how many vampires were there.
I couldn't use the Stone of Blood to search for others only full-vampires were able to do that but I could be traced through it, since it had taken blood from me when I became a Prince.
If the Stone ever fell into the hands of the vampaneze, they could use it to track down all the vampires who'd bonded with it. Hiding from them would be impossible. They'd annihilate us. Because of this danger, some vampires wanted to destroy the Stone of Blood but there was a legend that it could save us in our hour of greatest need.
I was thinking about all this while Paris used the Stone of Blood to manoeuvre troops in the field. As reports reached us of vampaneze positions, Paris used the Stone to check where his Generals were, then communicated telepathically with them, giving them orders to move from place to place. It was this which drained him so deeply. Others could have used the Stone, but as a Prince, Paris's word was law, and it was quicker for him to deliver the orders himself.
While Paris focused on the Stone, Mr Crepsley and me spent much of our time putting field reports together and building up a clear picture of the movements of the vampaneze. Many other Generals were also doing this, but it was our job to take their findings, sort through them, pick out the more important nuggets, and make suggestions to Paris. We had loads of maps, with pins stuck in to mark the positions of vampires and vampaneze.
Mr Crepsley had been intently studying a map for ten minutes, and he looked worried. "Have you seen this?" he asked eventually, summoning me over.
I stared at the map. There were three yellow flags and two red flags stuck close together around a city. We used five main colours to keep track of things. Blue flags for vampires. Yellow for vampaneze. Green for vampaneze strongholds cities and towns which they defended like bases. White flags were stuck in places where we'd won fights. Red flags where we'd lost.
"What am I looking for?" I asked, staring at the yellow and red flags. My eyes were bleary from lack of sleep and too much concentrating on maps and poorly scrawled reports.
"The name of the city," Mr Crepsley said, running a fingernail over it.
The name meant nothing to me at first. Then my head cleared. "That's your original home," I muttered. It was the city where Mr Crepsley had lived when he was human. Twelve years ago, he'd returned, taking me and Evra Von a snake-boy from the Cirque Du Freak with him, to stop a mad vampaneze called Murlough, who'd gone on a killing spree.
"Find the reports," Mr Crepsley said. There was a number on each flag, linking it to reports in our files, so we knew exactly what each flag represented. After a few minutes, I found the relevant sheets of paper and quickly scanned them.
"Of the vampaneze seen there," I muttered, "two were heading into the city. The other was leaving. The first red flag's from a year ago four Generals were killed in a large clash with several vampaneze."
"And the second red flag marks the spot where Staffen Irve lost two of his men," Mr Crepsley said. "It was when I was adding this flag to the map that I noticed the degree of activity around the city."
"Do you think it means anything?" I asked. It was unusual for so many vampaneze to be sighted in one location.
"I am not sure," he said. "The vampaneze may have made a base there, but I do not see why it is out of the way of their other strongholds."
"We could send someone to check," I suggested.
He considered that, then shook his head. "We have already lost too many Generals there. It is not a strategically important site. Best to leave it alone."
Mr Crepsley rubbed the long scar which divided the flesh on the left side of his face and went on staring at the map. He'd cut his orange crop of hair tighter than usual most vampires were cutting their hair short, because of the ticks and he looked almost bald in the strong light of the Hall.
"It bothers you, doesn't it?" I noted.
He nodded. "If theyhave set up a base, they must be feeding on the humans. I still consider it home, and I do not like to think of my spiritual neighbours and relations suffering at the hands of the vampaneze."
"We could send in a team to flush them out."
He sighed. "That would not be fitting. I would be putting personal considerations before the welfare of the clan. If I ever get out in the field, I shall check on the situation myself, but there is no need to send others."
"What are the odds on you and me ever getting out of here?" I asked wryly. I didn't enjoy fighting, but after six years cooped up inside the mountain, I'd have given my fingernails for a few nights out in the open, even if it meant taking on a dozen vampaneze single-handed.
"The way things stand poor," Mr Crepsley admitted. "I think we will be stuck here until the end of the war. If one of the other Princes suffers a serious injury and withdraws from battle, we might have to replace him. Otherwise " He drummed his fingers on the map and grimaced.
"Youdon't have to stay," I said quietly. "There are plenty of others who could guide me."
He barked a laugh. "There are plenty who would steer you," he agreed, "but how many would clip you around the ear if you made an error?"
"Not many," I chuckled.
"They think of you as a Prince," he said, "whereas I still think of you first and foremost as a meddlesome little brat with apenchant for stealing spiders."
"Charming!" I huffed. I knew he was kidding Mr Crepsley always treated me with the respect my position deserved but there was some truth to his teasing. There was a special bond between Mr Crepsley and me, like between a father and son. He could say things to me that no other vampire would dare. I'd be lost without him.
Placing the map of Mr Crepsley's former home to one side, we returned to the more important business of the night, little dreaming of the events which would eventually lead us back to the city of Mr Crepsley's youth, or the awful confrontation with evil that awaited us there.
CHAPTER FOUR
THE HALLSand tunnels of Vampire Mountain were buzzing with excitement Mika Ver Leth had returned after an absence of five years, and the rumour was that he had news of the Vampaneze Lord! I was in my cell, resting, when word broke. Wasting no time, I pulled on my clothes and hurried to the Hall of Princes at the top of the mountain, to check if the stories were true.
Mika was talking with Paris and Mr Crepsley when I arrived, surrounded by a pack of Generals eager for news. He was clad entirely in black, as was his custom, and his hawklike eyes seemed darker and grimmer than ever. He raised one gloved hand in salute when he saw me pushing my way forward. I stood to attention and saluted back. "How's the cub Prince?" he asked with a quick, tight grin.
"Not bad," I replied, studying him for signs of injury many who returned to Vampire Mountain carried the scars of battle. But although Mika looked tired, he hadn't been visibly wounded. "What about the Vampaneze Lord?" I asked directly. "According to the gossip, you know where he is."
Mika grimaced. "If only!" Looking around, he said, "Shall we assemble? Ihave news, but I'd rather announce it to the Hall in general." Everyone present made straight for their seats. Mika settled on his throne and sighed contentedly. "It's good to be back," he said, patting the arms of the hard chair. "Has Seba been taking good care of my coffin?"
"To the vampaneze with your coffin!" a General shouted, momentarily forgetting his place. "What news of the Vampaneze Lord?"
Mika ran a hand through his jet-black hair. "First, let's make it clear I don't know where he is." A groan spread through the Hall. "But I've had word of him," Mika added, and all ears pricked up at that.
"Before I begin," Mika said, "do you know about the latest vampaneze recruits?" Everybody looked blank. "The vampaneze have been adding to their ranks since the start of the war, blooding more humans than usual, to drive their numbers up."
"This is old news," Paris murmured. "There are far fewer vampaneze than vampires in the world. We expected them to blood recklessly. It is nothing to worry about we still outnumber them greatly."
"Yes," Mika said. "But now they're also using unblooded humans. They call them 'vampets'. Apparently the Vampaneze Lord himself came up with the name. Like him, they're learning the rules of vampaneze life and warfare as humans, before being blooded. He plans to build an army of human helpers."
"We can deal with humans," a General snarled, and there were shouts of agreement.
"Normally," Mika agreed. "But we must be wary of these vampets. While they lack the powers of the vampaneze, they're learning to fight like them. Also, since they aren't blooded, they don't have to abide by the more restrictive vampaneze laws. They aren't honour bound to tell the truth, they don't have to follow ancient customs and they don't have to limit themselves to hand to hand weapons."
Angry mutters swept through the Hall.
"The vampaneze are usingguns ?" Paris asked, shocked. The vampaneze were even stricter than vampires where weapons were involved. We could use boomerangs and spears, but most vampaneze wouldn't touch them.
"The vampets aren't vampaneze," Mika grunted. "There's no reason why a non-blooded vampet shouldn't use a gun. I don't think all their masters approve, but under orders from their Lord, they allow it.
"But the vampets are a problem for another night," Mika continued. "I only mention them now because it's relevant to how I found out about their Lord. A vampaneze would die screaming before betraying his clan, but the vampets aren't so hardened. I captured one a few months ago and squeezed some interesting details out of him. Foremost of which is the Vampaneze Lord doesn't have a base. He's travelling the world with a small band of guards, moving among the various fighting units, keeping up morale."
The Generals received the news with great excitement if the Vampaneze Lord was mobile and lightly protected, he was more vulnerable to attack.
"Did thisvampet know where the Vampaneze Lord was?" Mr Crepsley asked.
"No," Mika said. "He'd seen him, but that had been more than a year ago. Only those who accompany him know of his travel patterns."
"What else did he tell you?" Paris enquired.
"That their Lord still hasn't been blooded. And that despite his efforts, morale is low. Vampaneze losses are high, and many don't believe they can win the war. There has been talk of a peace treaty even outright surrender."
Loud cheering broke out. Some Generals were so elated by Mika's words that a group swept forward, picked him up, and carried him from the Hall. They could be heard singing and shouting as they headed for the crates of ale and wine stored below. The other, more sober-headed Generals looked to Paris for guidance.