HARKAT AND me got up an hour or so before sunset and walked around the camp with Evra and Shancus. I was chuffed that Evra had named his first-born after me and promised to send the boy birthday presents in future, if I could. He wanted me to give him a spider - Evra had told him all about Madam Octa - but I had no intention of sending him one of the poisonous arachnids from Vampire Mountain - I knew from painful experience the trouble a tarantula could cause!
The Cirque Du Freak was much the same as ever. A few new acts had joined, and one or two had parted company with the show, but mostly it was as it had been. Though the circus hadn't changed, I had. I sensed that after a while, as we strolled from one caravan or tent to another, pausing to chat with the performers and stagehands. When I lived at the Cirque, I was young - in appearance at least - and people treated me as a child. They didn't any more. While I didn't look that much older, there must have been something different about me, because they no longer spoke down to me.
Although I'd been acting as an adult for years, this was the first time I really thought about how much I'd changed and how I could never return to the lighter days of my youth. Mr. Crepsley had been telling me for ages - usually when I complained about how slowly I was maturing - that a night would come when I'd wish I could be young again. Now I realized he was right. My childhood had been a long, drawn-out affair, but within a year or two the purge would rid me of both my human blood and youth, and after that there could be no going back.
"You look pensive," Evra noted.
"I'm thinking about how much things have changed," I sighed. "You married and with kids. Me with worries of my own. Life used to be much simpler."
"It always is for the young," Evra agreed. "I keep telling Shancus that, but he doesn't believe me, any more than we did when we were growing up."
"We're getting old, Evra."
"No we aren't," he said. "We're getting older. It'll be decades before I hit old age - centuries for you."
That was true, but I couldn't shake the feeling that I'd somehow grown ancient overnight. For more than twenty-five years I'd lived and thought as a child - Darren Shan, the boy Prince! - but now I didn't feel I was a child any longer.
Mr. Crepsley tracked us down as we were devouring hot sausages around a camp fire. Truska had cooked them and was handing them out. The vampire took one, thanked her, and swallowed it in two quick bites. "Savoury," he said, licking his lips, then turned to me with a gleam in his eye. "Would you care to take to the stage tonight? Hibernius has said we may perform."
"What would we do?" I asked. "We don't have Madam Octa any longer."
"I can perform magic tricks, as I did when I first joined the Cirque Du Freak, and you can be my assistant. With our vampiric speed and strength, we can pull off some truly remarkable conjuring feats."
"I dunno," I said. "It's been a long time. I might get stage fright."
"Nonsense. You are doing it. I will not take no for an answer."
"If you put it that way..." I grinned.
"You will need some grooming if we are to present ourselves to the public," Mr. Crepsley said, eyeing me critically. "A haircut and manicure are in order."
"I take care of that," Truska said. "I also am having Darren's old pirate costume. I could fix up it to fit him again."
"You've still got that old thing?" I asked, remembering how cool I'd felt when Truska kitted me out as a pirate not long after I'd joined the Cirque Du Freak. I had to leave the fancy clothes behind when I left to travel to Vampire Mountain.
"I am a good holder-on to things," she smiled. "I fetch it and measure you. The suit might not be ready this tonight, but tomorrow I have it in shape. Come to me an hour now from, for measuring."
Vancha was jealous when he heard we were going to be performing. "What about me?" he grumbled. "I know a bit of magic. Why can't I go on too?"
Mr. Crepsley stared at the green-haired Prince, with his bare feet, muddy legs and arms, his animal hides and shurikens. He sniffed the air - Vancha had showered in rainfall about six nights earlier, but hadn't washed since - and crinkled his nose. "You are not the essence of presentability, Sire," he remarked carefully.
"What's wrong with me?" Vancha asked, looking down, seeing nothing amiss.
"One must be elegant when one takes to the stage," Mr. Crepsley said. "You lack a certain je ne sais quoi."
"I don't know about that," I said. "I think there's a perfect part for him in the show."
"There!" Vancha beamed. "The boy has a keen eye."
"He could go on at the start, with the Wolf Man," I said, only barely managing to keep a straight face. "We could pretend they were brothers."
Vancha glared at me as Mr. Crepsley, Harkat, Evra and Shancus fell apart with laughter. "You're getting too smart by far!" he snapped, then stormed off to find someone to rant at.
At the appointed time I went to be measured and get my hair cut by Truska. Evra and Shancus also went to prepare for the show, while Harkat helped Mr. Crepsley search for props to use in his act.
"Is life being good to you?" Truska asked, snipping my newly-grown fringe.
"It could be worse," I said.
"Vancha told me you now are being a Prince."
"He wasn't supposed to tell anyone," I complained.
"Do not fear. I keep news myself to. Vancha and me old friends. He knows I can a secret keep." She lowered the pair of scissors and looked at me oddly. "Have you seen anything of Mr. Tiny since leaving?" she asked.
"That's a strange question," I replied warily.
"He here was, many months ago. Came see Hibernius."
"Oh?" That must have been before his trip to Vampire Mountain.
"Hibernius was troubled after visit. He told me dark times are out in front of us. He said I might be wanting to think of going home to my people. Said I might be safer there."
"Did he say anything about-" I lowered my voice "-the Lord of the Vampaneze or a Master of Shadows?"
She shook her head. "He said only that we was all in for rough nights, and that there much fighting and dying would be before it became over." Then she started clipping again, and after that she measured me for the suit.
I was thinking hard about our conversation when I left Truska's van and went in search of Mr. Crepsley. It might be that, prompted by my concerns, my feet led me on purpose to Mr. Tall's van, or maybe it was accidental. Either way, I found myself hovering outside a few minutes later, pondering the situation and whether I should ask him about it.
As I stood, deliberating, the door opened and Mr. Tall and Evanna emerged. The witch was clad in a black cloak, almost invisible in the darkness of the cloudy night.
"I wish you would not do this," Mr. Tall said. "The vampires have been good friends to us. We should help them."
"We cannot take sides, Hibernius," Evanna replied. "It is not our place to decide the twists of fate."
"Still," he muttered, his long face creased, "to embrace these others and parlay with them... I don't like it."
"We must remain neutral," she insisted. "We have neither allies nor foes among the creatures of the night. If you or I took sides, we could destroy everything. As far as we're concerned, both must be equal, neither good nor bad."
"You are correct," he sighed. "I have spent too long with Larten. I'm letting my friendship for him cloud my judgement."
"There's nothing wrong with befriending these beings," Evanna said. "But we must not get personally involved, not until the future unravels and we have to."
With that, she kissed Mr. Tall on the cheek - I don't know how one so short reached all the way up to one so tall, but she did - and slipped away out of camp. Mr. Tall watched her go, an unhappy look on his face, then closed the door and went about his business.
I remained where I was a moment, replaying the strange conversation. I wasn't entirely sure what was going on, but I gathered that Evanna was about to do something which Mr. Tall didn't like - something that seemed to bode ill for vampires.
As a Prince, I should have waited for Evanna to come back and challenged her openly about the conversation. It wasn't proper for one of my standing to eavesdrop, and it would be positively rude to sneak out of camp after her. But politeness and good manners had never been high on my list of priorities. I'd rather have Evanna think less of me - even punish me for my insolence - and know what she was up to, than let her slip away and face a nasty surprise further down the line.
Kicking off my shoes, I hurried out of camp, spotted the top of her hooded head vanishing behind a tree in the distance - she was moving fast - and set off after her as quickly and quietly as I could.
It was hard keeping up with Evanna. She was swift and surefooted, leaving almost no trace of her passage. If the chase had endured, I'd have lost her, but she drew to a halt after three or four kilometres, stood breathing in the air a moment, then walked to a small copse of trees, whistled loudly, and entered.
I waited a few minutes to see if she'd emerge. When she didn't, I followed her to the edge of the copse and stood listening. When I heard nothing I slipped between the trees and advanced cautiously. The ground was damp and masked the sounds of my footsteps, but I took no chances: Evanna's sense of hearing was at least as sharp as a vampire's - one snapped twig would be enough to alert her to my presence.
As I progressed, the sound of soft talking reached me. There were several people up ahead, but they were speaking in hushed tones and I was too far away to hear what they were saying. With an increasing sense of unease I crept forward, and finally I was near enough to identify a group of shadowy figures at the heart of the copse.
I didn't move any closer, for fear I'd give myself away, but squatted, watched and listened. Their voices were muffled and only the occasional disconnected word or half-sentence came across. Their voices rose from time to time when they laughed, but even then they were careful not to laugh too loud.
My eyes gradually adjusted to the darkness and I was able to make some sense of the shapes. Apart from Evanna - whose shadow was impossible to mistake - I counted eight people, sitting, squatting or lying down. Seven were large and muscular. The eighth was slight, dressed in a hood and robes, serving drinks and food to the others. They all appeared to be men.
I could be no more certain than that, given the distance and darkness. Either I'd have to get a lot closer to learn more about them, or the moon would have to shine. Glancing up at the cloudy sky through the dense branches of the trees, I figured there wasn't much chance of that. Rising silently, I started to back away.
That's when the servant in the robes lit a candle.
"Put that out, fool!" one of the others barked, and a strong hand knocked the candle to the floor, where a foot roughly quenched it.
"Sorry," the servant squeaked. "I thought we were safe with Lady Evanna."
"We're never safe," the burly man snapped. "Remember that, and don't make such a mistake again."
The men fell back into conversation with Evanna, their voices low and impenetrable, but I was no longer interested in what they had to say. During the few seconds of candlelight, I'd glimpsed purple skin, red eyes and hair, and knew who and what the men were, and why Evanna had been so secretive - she'd come to meet with a group of vampaneze!
