Trials of Death

TRIALS OF DEATH

THE SAGA OF DARREN SHAN

BOOK 5

TRIALS OF DEATH

THE SAGA OF DARREN SHAN

BOOK 5

If your trip to Vampire Mountain leaves you

bloodthirsty for more, visit Shanville

– home of Darren Shan –

at www.darrenshan.com

For:

Nora & Davey – ever-gracious hosts

OBEs (Order of the Bloody Entrails) to:

The enormous, fearsome Emily Ford

Kellee “take no prisoners” Nunley

Mechanics of the Macabre:

Biddy & Liam

Gillie & Zoë

Emma & Chris

Contents

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Other Books in the Series The Saga of Darren Shan

Copyright

About the Publisher

PROLOGUE

IF PEOPLE ever tell you vampires aren’t real — don’t believe them! The world’s full of vampires. Not evil, shape-changing, cross-fearing creatures like in the legends, but honorable, long-living, extra-strong beings who need to drink blood to survive. They interfere as little as possible in the affairs of humans, and never kill those they drink from.

Hidden away in some snowy, barely accessible corner of the world, stands Vampire Mountain, where vampires meet every twelve years. The Council (as they call it) is presided over by the Vampire Princes – who are obeyed by all vampires – and most of those in attendance are Vampire Generals, whose job is to govern the walking undead.

In order to present me to the Princes, Mr Crepsley had dragged me along to Vampire Mountain and the Council. Mr Crepsley’s a vampire. I’m his assistant, a half-vampire — my name’s Darren Shan.

It was a long, hard journey. We travelled with a friend of ours – Gavner Purl – four wolves and two Little People, strange creatures who work for a mysterious master by the name of Mr Tiny. One of the Little People was killed on the way by a mad bear which had drunk the blood of a dead vampaneze (they’re like vampires, except they have purple skin, red eyes, nails and hair — and they always kill when they feed). The other then spoke – the first time ever that a Little Person had communicated with anyone – and told us his name was Harkat Mulds. He also delivered a chilling message from Mr Tiny: a Vampaneze Lord would soon come into power and lead the purple-skinned killers into war against the vampires — and win!

Finally we arrived at Vampire Mountain, inside which the vampires lived in a warren of tunnels and large caves. There I made friends with a number of vampires, including Seba Nile, who’d been Mr Crepsley’s teacher when he was younger; Arra Sails, one of the few female vampires; Vanez Blane, a one-eyed games master; and Kurda Smahlt, a General who was soon to become a Prince.

The Princes and most of the Generals weren’t impressed with me. They said I was too young to be a vampire and criticized Mr Crepsley for blooding me. To prove myself worthy of being a half-vampire, I had to undertake the Trials of Initiation, a series of tough tests usually reserved for budding Generals. When I was making up my mind to accept the challenge, they told me that if I passed, I’d be accepted into the vampire ranks. What they neglected to tell me until afterwards (when it was too late to back out) was that if I failed — I’d be killed!

CHAPTER ONE

THE VAST cavern known as the Hall of Khledon Lurt was almost deserted. Apart from those sitting at my table – Gavner, Kurda and Harkat – there was only one other vampire present, a guard who sat by himself and sipped from a mug of ale, whistling tunelessly.

Roughly four hours had passed since I learned I was to be judged in the Trials of Initiation. I still didn’t know very much about the Trials, but from the glum faces of my companions, and by what had been said in the Hall of Princes, I gathered my chances of emerging victorious were, at best, slim.

While Kurda and Gavner muttered on about my Trials, I studied Harkat, who I hadn’t seen much of recently (he’d been cooped up in the Hall of Princes, answering questions). He was dressed in his traditional blue robes, although he now wore his hood down, no longer bothering to hide his grey, scarred, stitched-together face. Harkat had no nose, and his ears were sewn beneath the skin of his skull. He had a pair of large, round, green eyes, set near the top of his head. His mouth was jagged and full of sharp teeth. Normal air was poisonous to him – ten or twelve hours of it would kill him – so he wore a special mask which kept him alive. He moved it down over his chin when he was talking or eating, and back up to cover his mouth when he wasn’t. Harkat had once been human, but had died and come back in this body, after striking a deal with Mr Tiny. He couldn’t remember who he’d been or what sort of a deal he’d struck.

Harkat had carried a message to the Princes from Mr Tiny, to the effect that the night of the Vampaneze Lord was at hand. The Vampaneze Lord was a mythical figure whose arrival would supposedly signal the start of a war between the vampires and vampaneze, which – according to Mr Tiny – the vampaneze would win, wiping out the vampire forces in the process.

Catching my eye, Harkat lowered his mask and said, “Have you … seen much of … the Halls?”

“A fair bit of them,” I replied.

“You must … take me … on a tour.”

“Darren won’t have much time for tours,” Kurda sighed miserably. “Not with the Trials to prepare for.”

“Tell me more about these Trials,” I said.

“The Trials are part of our vampiric heritage, going back as long as any vampire can remember,” Gavner told me. Gavner Purl was a Vampire General. He was very burly, with short brown hair, and he had a scarred, beaten face. Mr Crepsley often teased him about his heavy breathing and snoring. “In the old nights they were held at every Council,” Gavner continued, “and every vampire had to endure them, even if they’d passed a dozen times already.

“About a thousand years ago, the Trials were restructured. This was about the time that the Generals came into being. Before that, there were just Princes and ordinary vampires. Under the new terms, only those who wished to be Generals needed to undertake the Trials. A lot of ordinary vampires take the Trials even if they don’t want to be a General – a vampire must usually pass the Trials of Initiation to earn the respect of his peers – but they aren’t required to.”

“I don’t understand,” I said. “I thought if you passed the Trials, you automatically became a General.”

“No,” Kurda answered ahead of Gavner, running a hand through his blond hair. Kurda Smahlt wasn’t as muscular as most vampires – he believed in brains over brawn – and he bore less scar tissue than most, though he had three small red permanent scratches on his left cheek, marks of the vampaneze (Kurda’s dream was to reunite the vampires and vampaneze, and he’d spent many decades discussing peace treaties with the murderous outcasts). “The Trials are only the first test for would-be Generals. There are other tests of strength, endurance and wisdom, which come later. Passing the Trials just means you’re a vampire of good standing.”

Good standing was a phrase I’d heard many times. Respect and honour were vitally important to vampires. If you were a vampire of good standing, it meant you were respected by your colleagues.

“What happens in the Trials?” I asked.

“There are many different tests,” Gavner said, taking over again from Kurda. “You have to complete five of them. They’ll be picked at random, one at a time. The challenges range from fighting wild boars to climbing perilous mountains to crawling through a pit filled with snakes.”

“Snakes?” I asked, alarmed. My best friend at the Cirque Du Freak – Evra Von – kept a huge snake, which I’d grown accustomed to but never learned to like. Snakes gave me the shivers.

“There won’t be any snakes in Darren’s Trials,” Kurda said. “Our last snake-keeper died nine years ago and hasn’t been replaced. We still have a few snakes, but not enough to fill a tub, never mind a pit.”

“The Trials take place one night after another,” Gavner said. “A day’s rest is all you’re allowed in between. So you have to be especially careful at the start — if you get injured early on, you won’t have much time to recover.”

“Actually, he might get lucky there,” Kurda mused. “The Festival of the Undead is almost upon us.”

“What’s that?” I asked.

“We celebrate with a huge feast when every vampire who’s coming to Council has arrived,” Kurda explained. “We used the Stone of Blood to search for latecomers a couple of nights ago, and only three more are on their way. When the last arrives, the Festival starts and no official business may take place for three nights and days.”

“That’s right,” Gavner said. “If the Festival starts during your Trials, you’ll have a three night break. That would be a great bonus.”

“If the latecomers arrive in time,” Kurda noted gloomily.

Kurda seemed to think I didn’t stand a chance in the Trials. “Why are you so sure I’ll fail?” I asked.

“It’s not that I think poorly of you,” Kurda said. “You’re just too young and inexperienced. Apart from the fact that you’re physically unprepared, you haven’t had time to assess the different tasks and practise for them. You’re being thrown in at the deep end and it isn’t fair.”

“Still harping on about fairness?” someone commented behind us — Mr Crepsley. Seba Nile – the quartermaster of Vampire Mountain – was with him. The pair sat and greeted us with silent nods.

“You were very quick to agree to the Trials, Larten,” Kurda said disapprovingly. “Don’t you think you should have explained the rules to Darren more thoroughly? He didn’t even know that failure to complete the Trials means certain death!”

“Is that true?” Mr Crepsley asked me.

I nodded. “I thought I could quit if things weren’t working out.”

“Ah. I should have made it clearer. My apologies.”

“A bit late for those now,” Kurda sniffed.

“All the same,” Mr Crepsley said, “I stand by my decision. It was a delicate situation. I did wrong to blood Darren — there was no hiding from that. It is important for both our sakes that one of us clears our names. Had I the choice, I would face the challenge, but the Princes elected Darren. Their word, as far as I am concerned, is law.”

“Besides,” Seba Nile added, “all is far from lost. When I heard the news, I hurried to the Hall of Princes and invoked the old and almost forgotten Period of Preparation clause.”

“The what?” Gavner asked.

“Before the time of the Generals,” Seba explained, “vampires did not spend years preparing for the Trials. They would draw a Trial at random – as they do now – but rather than tackle it immediately, they had a night and a day to prepare. This was to give them time to practise. Many chose to ignore the Period of Preparation – usually those who had undertaken the Trials before – but there was no dishonour in taking advantage of it.”

“I never heard of that rule,” Gavner said.

“I did,” Kurda noted, “but I’d never have thought of it. Does it still apply? It hasn’t been used in more than a thousand years.”

“Just because it is unfashionable does not mean it is invalid,” Seba chuckled. “The Period of Preparation was never formally abolished. Given that Darren is a special case, I went to the Princes and asked that he be allowed to avail himself of it. Mika objected, of course – that vampire was born to object – but Paris talked him round.”

“So Darren has twenty-four hours to prepare for each Trial,” Mr Crepsley said. “And twenty-four hours to rest afterwards — which adds up to a forty-eight hour gap between each test.”

“That is good news,” Gavner agreed, brightening up.

“There is more,” Mr Crepsley said. “We also convinced the Princes to rule out some of the more foreboding Trials, those which are clearly beyond Darren’s means.”

“I thought you said you weren’t going to ask for favours,” Gavner noted with a grin.

“Nor did I,” Mr Crepsley replied. “I merely asked that the Princes use their common sense. It would be illogical to ask a blind man to paint, or a mute man to sing. So too would it be senseless to expect a half-vampire to compete on even terms with a full-vampire. Many of the Trials remain, but those which are clearly impossible for one of Darren’s stature have been eliminated.”

“I still say it’s unfair,” Kurda complained. He faced the ancient Seba Nile. “Are there any other old laws we could make use of? Anything about children not being allowed to compete, or that they can’t be killed if they fail?”

“None that I am aware of,” Seba said. “The only vampires who cannot be killed for failing the Trials of Initiation are the Princes. All others are judged equally.”

“Why would Princes be taking the Trials?” I asked.

“Long ago they had to participate in the Trials at every Council, like everybody else,” Seba said. “Some still undertake them from time to time, if they feel they need to prove themselves. However, it is forbidden for a vampire to kill a Prince, so if a Prince fails and does not die during the Trial, nobody can execute him.”

“What happens in cases like that?” I asked.

“There have not been many,” Seba said. “Of the few that I know of, the Princes elected to leave Vampire Mountain and die in the wilds. Only one – Fredor Morsh – resumed his place in the Hall of Princes. That was when the vampaneze broke away, when we had need of all our leaders. Once the crisis had abated, he left to meet his fate.”

“Come,” Mr Crepsley said, rising and yawning. “I am tired. It is time to turn in for the day.”

“I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep,” I said.

“You must,” he grunted. “Rest is vital if you are to complete the Trials. You will need to be fully alert, with all your wits about you.”

“OK,” I sighed, joining him. Harkat stood too. “See you all tomorrow,” I said to the other vampires, and they nodded glumly in reply.

Back in my cell, I made myself as comfortable as possible in my hammock – most vampires slept in coffins, but I couldn’t stand them – while Harkat climbed into his. It took ages to drift off, but finally I did, and though I didn’t manage a full day’s sleep, I was reasonably clear-headed when night rolled round and I had to report to the Hall of Princes to learn the nature of my first deathly Trial.

CHAPTER TWO

ARRA SAILS was waiting for Mr Crepsley and me outside the Hall of Princes. Arra was one of the rare female vampires at Vampire Mountain. She was a fierce fighter, the equal – or better – of most males. We’d fought a contest earlier during my stay and I’d won her hard-to-earn respect.

“How are you?” she asked, shaking my hand.

“Pretty good,” I said.

“Nervous?”

“Yes.”

“I was too, when facing my Trials,” she smiled. “Only a fool goes into them without feeling anxious. The important thing is not to panic.”

“I’ll try not to.”

Arra cleared her throat. “I hope you don’t hold what I said in the Hall of Princes against me.” Arra had urged the Princes to make me undertake the Trials. “I don’t believe in going easy on vampires, even if they’re children. Ours is a hard life, not suited to the weak. As I said in the Hall, I think you’ll pass the Trials, but if you don’t, I won’t step in to plead for your life.”

“I understand,” I said.

“We’re still friends?”

“Yes.”

“If you need help preparing, call on me,” she said. “I have been through the Trials three times, to prove to myself more than any other that I am a worthy vampire. There is very little that I don’t know about them.”

“We will bear that in mind,” Mr Crepsley said, bowing to her.

“Courteous as ever, Larten,” Arra noted. “And as handsome too.”

I nearly laughed out loud. Mr Crepsley — handsome? I’d seen more appealing creatures in the monkey enclosures in zoos! But Mr Crepsley took the compliment in his stride, as though he was used to such flattery, and bowed again.

“And you are as beautiful as ever,” he said.

“I know,” she grinned, and left. Mr Crepsley watched her intently as she walked away, a faraway look on his normally solemn face. When he caught me smirking, he scowled.

“What are you grinning about?” he snapped.

“Nothing,” I said innocently, then added slyly, “An old girlfriend?”

“If you must know,” he said stiffly, “Arra was once my mate.”

I blinked. “You mean she was your wife?”

“In a manner of speaking.”

I stared, slack-jawed, at the vampire. “You never told me you were married!”

“I am not – any more – but I used to be.”

“What happened — did you get a divorce?”

He shook his head. “Vampires neither marry nor divorce as humans do. We make temporary mating commitments instead.”

I frowned. “Come again?”

“If two vampires wish to mate,” he explained, “they agree to share their lives for a set amount of time, usually five or ten years. At the end of that time, they can agree to another five or ten years, or separate. Our relationships are not like those of humans. Since we cannot have children, and live such a long time, very few vampires stay mated for the whole of their lives.”

“That sounds bizarre.”

Mr Crepsley shrugged. “It is the vampire way.”

I thought it over. “Do you still have feelings for Arra?” I asked.

“I admire and respect her,” he answered cagily.

“That’s not what I mean. Do you love her?”

“Oh, look,” he said quickly, reddening around his throat. “It is time to present ourselves to the Princes. Hurry — we must not be late.” And off he set at a rapid pace, as though scurrying ahead of any further personal questions.

Vanez Blane greeted us inside the Hall of Princes. Vanez was a games master, responsible for maintaining the three gaming Halls and watching over the contestants. He only had one eye, and from the left-hand side he looked quite frightful. But if you saw him from the front or right-hand side, you could tell at a glance that he was a kind, friendly vampire.

“How do you feel?” he asked. “Ready for the Trials?”

“Just about,” I replied.

He took me to one side and spoke quietly. “You can say no if you want, but I’ve discussed it with the Princes, and they won’t object if you ask me to be your Trials tutor. That means I’d tell you about the challenges and help you prepare for them. I’d be like a second in a duel, or a trainer in a boxing match.”

“Sounds good to me,” I said.

“You don’t mind, Larten?” he asked Mr Crepsley.

“Not at all,” Mr Crepsley said. “I had planned to be Darren’s tutor, but you are much better suited to the job. You are sure it is not an inconvenience?”

“Of course it isn’t,” Vanez said firmly.

“Then it is agreed.” We all shook hands and smiled at one another.

“It feels odd being the centre of so much attention,” I said. “So many people are going out of their way to help me. Are you like this with all newcomers?”

“Most of the time — yes,” Vanez said. “Vampires look out for each other. We have to — everybody else in the world hates or fears us. A vampire can always depend on help from those of his own.” He winked and added, “Even that cowardly rogue, Kurda Smahlt.”

Vanez didn’t really think Kurda was a cowardly rogue – he just liked to tease the soon to be Prince – but many vampires in the mountain did. Kurda didn’t like fighting or war, and believed in making peace with the vampaneze. To a lot of vampires, that was unthinkable.

A guard called my name and I stepped forward, past the circular benches to the platform where the thrones of the Princes were situated. Vanez stood just behind me, while Mr Crepsley stayed in his seat — only Trials tutors were allowed to accompany contestants to the platform.

Paris Skyle, a white-haired, grey-bearded Prince – he was also the oldest living vampire – asked if I was willing to accept whatever Trial came my way. I said I was. He announced to the Hall in general that the Period of Preparation had been invoked, and that some Trials had been withdrawn, on account of my size and youth. He asked if anyone objected. Mika Ver Leth – who’d suggested the Trials – looked unhappy about the concessions, and picked irritably at the folds of his black shirt, but said nothing. “Very well,” Paris declared. “We shall draw the first Trial.”

A bag of numbered stones was brought forward by a green-uniformed guard. I’d been told that there were seventeen stones in it, each with its own individual number. Each number corresponded to a Trial, and the one I picked would be the Trial I’d have to face.

The guard shook the bag and asked if anyone wanted to examine the stones. One of the Generals raised a hand. This was common practice – the stones were always examined – so I didn’t worry about it, just focused on the floor and tried to stop the nervous rumblings of my belly.

When the stones had been checked and approved, the guard shook them up once more, then held the bag out to me. Closing my eyes, I dipped in a hand, grabbed the first stone I touched, and drew it out. “Number eleven,” the guard shouted. “The Aquatic Maze.”

The vampires in the Hall mumbled softly among themselves.

“Is that good or bad?” I asked Vanez while the stone was taken up for the Princes to verify.

“It depends,” he said. “Are you able to swim?”

“Yes.”

“Then it’s as good a first Trial as any. Things could have been worse.”

Once the stone had been checked and placed aside so that it couldn’t be drawn again, Paris told me that I would be expected to report for the Trial at dusk tomorrow. He wished me luck – he said business would keep him away, though one of the other Princes would be present – then dismissed me. Leaving the Hall, I hurried away with Vanez and Mr Crepsley to prepare for my first testing brush with death.

CHAPTER THREE