Tunnels of Blood

“It bloody well will be!” Gavner snorted.

“Why?” Mr Crepsley asked. “You can judge my actions and pass verdict.”

“Me? Judge you?” Gavner laughed. “No thanks. I’ll leave you to the Council. The last thing I need is to get involved in something like this.”

“Excuse me,” I said again, “but what’s this all about? Why are you talking about being judged? And who or what are the Council?”

“I shall tell you later,” Mr Crepsley said, waving my questions aside. He studied Gavner curiously. “If you are not here about the boy, why have you come? I thought I made it clear when last we met that I wanted no more to do with the Generals.”

“You made it crystal clear,” Gavner agreed. “Maybe I’m just here to discuss old times.”

Mr Crepsley smiled cynically. “After seventeen years of leaving me to my own devices? I think not, Gavner.”

The Vampire General coughed discreetly. “There is trouble brewing. Nothing to do with the Generals,” he added quickly. “This is personal. I’ve come because I feel there’s something you should know.” He paused.

“Go on,” Mr Crepsley urged him.

Gavner looked at me and cleared his throat. “I have no objections to speaking in front of Darren,” he said, “but you seemed anxious to steer him clear of certain areas when we were discussing our past a while ago. What I have to tell you may not be for his ears.”

“Darren,” Mr Crepsley said immediately, “Gavner and I shall continue our discussion in my quarters, alone. Please find Mr Tall and tell him I shall be unable to perform tonight.”

I wasn’t happy – I wanted to hear what Gavner had to say: he was the first vampire I’d met apart from Mr Crepsley – but from his stern expression, I knew his mind was made up. I turned to leave.

“And Darren,” Mr Crepsley called me back. “I know you are curious by nature, but I warn you: do not attempt to eavesdrop. I shall take a dim view of it if you do.”

“What do you think I am?” I said. “You treat me like—”

“Darren!” he snapped. “No eavesdropping!”

I nodded glumly. “All right.”

“Cheer up,” Gavner Purl said as I walked away dejectedly. “I’ll tell you all about it, as soon as Larten’s back is turned.”

As Mr Crepsley spun round, with fire in his eyes, the Vampire General quickly raised his hands and laughed. “Only joking!”

CHAPTER THREE

I DECIDED to do the act with Madam Octa – Mr Crepsley’s spider – by myself. I was well able to handle her. Besides, it was fun to take over from Mr Crepsley. I’d been on stage with him loads of times, but always as his sidekick.

I went on after Hans Hands – a man who could run a hundred metres on his hands in less than eight seconds – and had great fun. The audience cheered me off, and later I sold loads of candy spiders to clamouring customers.

I hung out with Evra after the show. I told him about Gavner Purl and asked what he knew about Vampire Generals.

“Not much,” he said. “I know they exist but I’ve never met one.”

“What about the Council?” I asked.

“I think that’s a huge meeting they have every ten or fifteen years,” he said. “A big conference where they gather and discuss things.”

That was all he could tell me.

A few hours before dawn, while Evra was tending to his snake, Gavner Purl appeared from Mr Crepsley’s van – the vampire preferred to sleep in the basements of buildings, but there had been no suitable rooms in the old mill – and asked me to walk with him a while.

The Vampire General walked slowly, rubbing the scars on his face, much as Mr Crepsley often did when thinking.

“Do you enjoy being a half-vampire, Darren?” he asked.

“Not really,” I answered honestly. “I’ve got used to it, but I was happier as a human.”

He nodded. “You know that you will age at only a fifth of the human rate? You’ve resigned yourself to a long childhood? It doesn’t bother you?”

“It bothers me,” I said. “I used to look forward to growing up. It bugs me that it’s going to take so long. But there’s nothing I can do about it. I’m stuck, amn’t I?”

“Yes,” he sighed. “That’s the problem with blooding a person: there’s no way to take the vampire blood back. It’s why we don’t blood children: we only want people who know what they’re getting into, who wish to abandon their humanity. Larten shouldn’t have blooded you. It was a mistake.”

“Is that why he was talking about being judged?” I asked.

Gavner nodded. “He’ll have to account for his error,” he said. “He’ll have to convince the Generals and Princes that what he did won’t harm them. If he can’t…” Gavner looked grim.

“Will he be killed?” I asked softly.

Gavner smiled. “I doubt it. Larten is widely respected. His wrists will be slapped but I don’t think anybody will look for his head.”

“Why didn’t you judge him?” I asked.

“All Generals have the right to pass judgement on non-ranked vampires,” he said. “But Larten’s an old friend. It’s best for a judge to be unbiased. Even if he’d committed a real crime, I would have found it hard to punish him. Besides, Larten’s no ordinary vampire. He used to be a General.”

“Really?” I stared at Gavner Purl, stunned by the news.

“An important one too,” Gavner said. “He was on the verge of being voted a Vampire Prince when he stood down.”

“A prince?” I asked sceptically. It was hard to imagine Mr Crepsley with a crown and royal cloak.

“That’s what we call our leaders,” Gavner said. “There are very few of them. Only the noblest and most respected vampires are elected.”

“And Mr Crepsley almost became one?” I said. Gavner nodded. “What happened?” I asked. “How did he end up travelling with the Cirque Du Freak?”

“He resigned,” Gavner said. “He was a couple of years shy of being invested – we call the process of Prince-making an investiture – when one night he declared he was sick of the business and wanted nothing more to do with the Generals.”

“Why?” I asked.

Gavner shrugged. “Nobody knows. Larten never gave much away. Maybe he just got tired of the fighting and killing.”

I wanted to ask who it was the Vampire Generals had to fight, but at that moment we cleared the last of the town houses and Gavner Purl smiled and stretched his arms.

“A clear run,” he grunted happily.

“You’re leaving?” I asked.

“Have to,” he said. “A General’s schedule is a busy one. I only dropped by because it was on my way. I’d like to stay and chat over old times with Larten, but I can’t. Anyway, I think Larten will be on the move soon himself.”

My ears perked up. “Where’s he going?” I asked.

Gavner shook his head and grinned. “Sorry. He’d scalp me alive if I told. I’ve already said more than I should. You won’t tell him I told you about his being a General, will you?”

“Not if you don’t want me to,” I said.

“Thanks.” Gavner crouched down and faced me. “Larten’s a pain in the butt sometimes. He plays his cards too close to his chest, and getting information out of him can be like prying teeth from a shark. But he’s a good vampire, one of the best. You couldn’t hope for a better teacher. Trust him, Darren, and you won’t go wrong.”

“I’ll try,” I smiled.

“This can be a dangerous world for vampires,” Gavner said softly. “More dangerous than you know. Stick with Larten and you’ll be in a better position to survive than many of our kind. You don’t live as long as he has without learning more than your fair share of tricks.”

“How old is he?” I asked.

“I’m not sure,” Gavner said. “I think about a hundred and eighty or two hundred.”

“How old are you?” I asked.

“I’m a whippersnapper,” he said. “Barely past the hundred mark.”

“A hundred years old!” I whistled softly.

“That’s nothing for a vampire,” Gavner said. “I was barely nineteen when first blooded and only twenty-two when I became a full-vampire. I could live to be a good five hundred years old, the gods of the vampires permitting.”

“Five hundred…!” I couldn’t imagine being so old.

“Picture trying to blow out the candles on that cake!” Gavner chuckled. Then he stood. “I must be off. I’ve fifty kilometres to make before dawn. I’ll have to slip into overdrive.” He grimaced. “I hate flitting. I always feel sick afterwards.”

“Will I see you again?” I asked.

“Probably,” he replied. “The world’s a small place. I’m sure our paths will cross again one fine gloomy night.” He shook my hand. “So long, Darren Shan.”

“Until next time, Gavner Purl,” I said.

“Next time,” he agreed, and then he was off. He took several deep breaths and started to jog. After a while he broke into a sprint. I stood where I was, watching him run, until he hit flitting speed and disappeared in the snapping of an eyelid, at which point I turned and headed back to camp.

I found Mr Crepsley in his van. He was sitting by the window (it was completely covered with strips of dark sticky tape, to block out the sun during the day), staring moodily off into space.

“Gavner’s gone,” I said.

“Yes,” he sighed.

“He didn’t stay long,” I remarked.

“He is a Vampire General,” Mr Crepsley said. “His time is not his own.”

“I liked him.”

“He is a fine vampire and a good friend,” Mr Crepsley agreed.

I cleared my throat. “He said you might be leaving too.”

Mr Crepsley regarded me suspiciously. “What else did he say?”

“Nothing,” I lied quickly. “I asked why he couldn’t stay longer and he said there was no point, as you’d probably be moving on soon.”

Mr Crepsley nodded. “Gavner brought unpleasant news,” he said carefully. “I will have to leave the Cirque for a while.”

“Where are you going?” I asked.

“To a city,” he responded vaguely.

“What about me?” I asked.

Mr Crepsley scratched his scar thoughtfully. “That is what I have been contemplating,” he said. “I would prefer not to take you with me but I think I must. I may have need of you.”

“But I like it here,” I complained. “I don’t want to leave.”

“Nor do I,” Mr Crepsley snapped. “But I must. And you have to come with me. Remember: we are vampires, not circus performers. The Cirque Du Freak is a means of cover, not our home.”

“How long will we be away?” I asked unhappily.

“Days. Weeks. Months. I cannot say for sure.”

“What if I refuse to come?”

He studied me ominously. “An assistant who does not obey orders has no purpose,” he said quietly. “If I cannot rely on your cooperation, I will have to take steps to remove you from my employ.”

“You mean you’d sack me?” I smiled bitterly.

“There is only one way to deal with a rebellious half-vampire,” he answered, and I knew what that way was – a stake through the heart!

“It’s not fair,” I grumbled. “What am I going to do by myself all day in a strange city while you’re asleep?”

“What did you do when you were a human?” he asked.

“Things were different,” I said. “I had friends and a family. I’m going to be alone again if we leave, like when I first joined up with you.”

“It will be hard,” Mr Crepsley said compassionately, “but we have no choice. I must be away with the coming of dusk – I would leave now, were we not so near to dawn – and you must come with me. There is no other…”

He stopped as a thought struck him. “Of course,” he said slowly, “we could bring another along.”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“We could take Evra with us.”

I frowned as I considered it.

“The two of you are good friends, yes?” Mr Crepsley asked.

“Yes,” I said, “but I don’t know how he’d feel about leaving. And there’s his snake: what would we do with that?”

“I am sure somebody could look after the snake,” Mr Crepsley said, warming to the idea. “Evra would be good company for you. And he is wiser: he could keep you out of mischief when I am not around.”

“I don’t need a babysitter!” I huffed.

“No,” Mr Crepsley agreed, “but a guardian would not go amiss. You have a habit of getting into trouble when left to your own devices. Remember when you stole Madam Octa? And the mess we had with that human boy, Sam whatever his name was?”

“That wasn’t my fault!” I yelled.

“Indeed not,” Mr Crepsley said. “But it happened when you were by yourself.”

I pulled a face but didn’t say anything.

“Will I ask him or not?” Mr Crepsley pressed.

“I’ll ask him,” I said. “You’d probably bully him into going.”

“Have it your own way.” Mr Crepsley rose. “I will go and clear it with Hibernius.” That was Mr Tall’s first name. “Be back here before dawn so I can brief you – I want to make sure we are prepared to travel as soon as night falls.”

Evra took a lot of time deciding. He didn’t like the idea of parting company with his friends in the Cirque Du Freak – or with his snake.

“It won’t be for ever,” I told him.

“I know,” he said uncertainly.

“Look on it as a holiday,” I suggested.

“I like the idea of a holiday,” he admitted. “But it would be nice to know where I was going.”

“Sometimes surprises are more fun,” I said.

“And sometimes they aren’t,” Evra muttered.

“Mr Crepsley will be asleep all day,” I reminded him. “We’ll be free to do as we like. We can go sightseeing, to cinemas, swimming, whatever we want.”

“I’ve never been swimming,” Evra said, and I could tell by the way he grinned that he’d decided to come.

“I’ll tell Mr Tall you’re coming?” I asked. “And get him to arrange for your snake to be looked after?”

Evra nodded. “She doesn’t like the cold weather in any case,” he said. “She’ll be asleep most of the winter.”

“Great!” I beamed. “We’ll have a wonderful time.”

“We’d better,” he said, “or it’ll be the last time I come on ‘holiday’ with you.”

I spent the rest of the day packing and unpacking. I only had two small bags to bring, one for me and one for Mr Crepsley, but – apart from my diary, which went everywhere with me – I kept changing my mind about what to put in.

Then I remembered Madam Octa – I wasn’t bringing her along – and hurried off to find somebody to look after her. Hans Hands agreed to mind her, though he said there was no way he’d let her out of her cage.

Finally, after hours of rushing about – Mr Crepsley had it easy, the wily old goat! – night fell and it was time to leave.

Mr Crepsley checked the bags and nodded curtly. I told him about leaving Madam Octa with Hans Hands and again he nodded. We picked up Evra, said goodbye to Mr Tall and some of the others, then faced away from the camp and began walking.

“Will you be able to carry both of us when you flit?” I asked Mr Crepsley.

“I have no intention of flitting,” he said.

“Then how are we going to travel?” I asked.

“Buses and trains,” he replied. He laughed when I looked surprised. “Vampires can use public transport as well as humans. There are no laws against it.”

“I suppose not,” I said, grinning, wondering what other passengers would think if they knew they were travelling with a vampire, a half-vampire and a snake-boy. “Shall we go, then?” I asked.

“Yes,” Mr Crepsley answered simply, and the three of us headed into town to catch the first train out.

CHAPTER FOUR

IT FELT strange being in a city. The noise and smell nearly drove me mad the first couple of days: with my heightened senses it was like being in the middle of a whirring food blender. I lay in bed during the daytime, covering my head with the thickest pillow I could find. But by the end of the week I’d grown used to the super-sharp sounds and scents and learned to ignore them.

We stayed at a hotel situated in the corner of a quiet city square. In the evenings, when traffic was slow, neighbourhood kids gathered outside for a game of football. I’d have loved to join in but dared not – with my extra strength, I might accidentally end up breaking somebody’s bones, or worse.

By the start of our second week we’d fallen into a comfortable routine. Evra and me rose every morning – Mr Crepsley went off by himself at night without telling us where – and ate a big breakfast. After that we’d head out and explore the city, which was big and old and full of interesting stuff. We’d get back to the hotel for nightfall, in case Mr Crepsley wanted us, then watch some TV or play computer games. We usually got to bed between eleven and twelve.

After a year with the Cirque Du Freak, it was a thrill to live like a normal human again. I loved being able to sleep late in the morning, not having to worry about finding food for the Little People; it was great not to be rushing about, running errands for the performers; and sitting back at night, stuffing my face with sweets and pickled onions, watching TV shows – that was heaven!

Evra was enjoying himself too. He’d never known a life like this. He’d been part of the circus world for as long as he could remember, first with a nasty side-show owner, then with Mr Tall. He liked the Cirque – I did too – and was looking forward to returning, but he had to admit it was nice to have a break.

“I never realized TV could be so addictive,” he said one night, after we’d watched five soap operas in a row.

“My mum and dad never let me watch too much,” I told him, “but I knew guys in school who watched five or six hours of it every night of the week!”

“I wouldn’t take it that far,” Evra mused, “but it’s fun in small doses. Perhaps I’ll buy a portable set when we return to the Cirque Du Freak.”

“I never thought of getting a TV since I joined,” I said. “So much else was going on, it was the last thing on my mind. But you’re right – it would be nice to have a set, even if only for reruns of The Simpsons.” That was our favourite show.

I wondered sometimes what Mr Crepsley was up to – he’d always been mysterious, but never this secretive – but in truth I wasn’t overly bothered: it was nice to have him out of my hair.

Evra had to wrap up in layers of clothes whenever we went out. Not because of the cold – though it was chilly: the first snow had fallen a couple of days after our arrival – but because of how he looked. Though he didn’t mind people gawping at him – he was used to it – it was easier to get around if he was able to pass for a normal human. That way he didn’t have to stop every five or ten minutes to explain to a curious stranger who and what he was.

Covering his body, legs and arms was easy – trousers, a jumper and gloves – but his face was tricky: it wasn’t as strongly scaled or coloured as the rest of him, but it wasn’t the face of an ordinary human. A thick cap took care of his long yellow-green hair, and dark glasses shaded much of the upper half of his face. But as for the lower half…

We experimented with bandages and flesh-coloured paints before hitting on the answer: a fake beard! We bought it in a joke shop and though it looked silly – nobody could mistake it for a real one – it did the job.

“We must look a right pair,” Evra giggled one day as we strolled around a zoo. “You in your pirate costume, me in this get-up. People probably think we’re a couple of escaped crazies.”

“The folks at the hotel definitely do,” I giggled. “I’ve heard the bellboys and maids talking about us and they reckon Mr Crepsley is a mad doctor and we’re two of his patients.”

“Yeah?” Evra laughed. “Imagine if they knew the truth – that you’re a couple of vampires and I’m a snake-boy!”

“I don’t think it would matter,” I said. “Mr Crepsley tips well and that’s the important thing. ‘Money buys privacy’, as I heard one of the managers say when a maid was complaining about a guy who’d been walking about naked in the corridors.”

“I saw him!” Evra exclaimed. “I thought he’d locked himself out of his room.”

“Nope,” I smiled. “Apparently he’s been walking about starkers for four or five days. According to the manager, he comes every year for a couple of weeks and spends the entire time roaming around, naked as a baby.”

“They let him?” Evra asked incredulously.

“‘Money buys privacy,’” I repeated.

“And I thought the Cirque Du Freak was a strange place to live,” Evra muttered wryly. “Humans are even weirder than us!”

As the days passed the city became more and more Christmassy as people geared themselves up for the twenty-fifth of December. Christmas trees appeared; lights and decorations lit up the streets and windows at night; Father Christmas touched down and took orders; toys of every shape and size filled shop shelves from floor to ceiling.

I was looking forward to Christmas: last year’s had passed unnoticed, since Christmas was something hardly anyone associated with the Cirque Du Freak bothered celebrating.

Evra couldn’t understand what the fuss was about.

“What’s the point of it?” he kept asking. “People spend loads of money buying each other presents they don’t really need; they drive themselves half-crazy getting a fancy dinner ready; trees and turkeys are bred and slaughtered in frightening numbers. It’s ridiculous!”

I tried telling him that it was a day of peace and goodwill, for families to come together and rejoice, but he was having none of it. As far as he was concerned, it was a mad, money-spinning racket.

Mr Crepsley, of course, only snorted whenever the subject was mentioned. “A silly human custom,” was how he put it. He wanted nothing to do with the festival.

It would be a lonely Christmas without my family – I missed them more at this time of the year than ever, especially Annie – but I was looking forward to it all the same. The hotel staff were throwing a big party for the guests. There’d be turkey and ham and Christmas pudding and crackers. I was determined to drag Evra into the spirit of the day: I was sure he’d change his opinion when he experienced Christmas firsthand.

“Want to come shopping?” I asked one frosty afternoon, wrapping a scarf around my neck (I didn’t need it – my vampire blood kept me warm – nor the thick coat or woolly jumper, but I’d draw attention if I went out without them).

Evra glanced out of the window. It had been snowing earlier and the world outside was frosty-white.

“I can’t be bothered,” he said. “I don’t feel like getting into heavy clothes again.” We’d been out that morning, throwing snowballs at each other.

“OK,” I said, glad he wasn’t coming: I wanted to look over a few presents for him. “I won’t be more than an hour or two.”

“Will you be back before dark?” Evra asked.

“Maybe,” I said.

“You’d better be.” He nodded towards the room where Mr Crepsley lay sleeping. “You know how it goes: the one night you aren’t here when he wakes will be the one night he wants you.”

I laughed. “I’ll risk it. Want me to bring you back anything?” Evra shook his head. “OK. See you soon.”

I walked through the snow, whistling to myself. I liked snow: it covered up most of the smells and muffled a lot of the noise. Some of the kids who lived in the Square were out building a snowman. I stopped to watch them but moved on before they could ask me to join in: it was easier not to get involved with humans.

As I stood outside a large department store, studying the window display, wondering what to buy Evra, a girl walked over and stood beside me. She was dark-skinned, with long black hair, about my age, and a little shorter than me.