Allies of the Night. Darren Shan

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СКАЧАТЬ said, “but what if Mr Crepsley did … submit the forms?”

      “Come again?” I said.

      “He might have done it in … his sleep.”

      “You think he sleep wrote a birth cert and school records, then submitted them to a local school?” I didn’t even bother to laugh.

      “Things like this have happened before,” Harkat mumbled. “Remember Pasta O’Malley at the … Cirque Du Freak? He read books at night when he was asleep. He could never recall reading them, but if you asked … him about them, he could answer all your questions.”

      “I’d forgotten about Pasta,” I muttered, giving Harkat’s proposal some thought.

      “I could not have filled in those forms,” Mr Crepsley said stiffly.

      “It’s unlikely,” Harkat agreed, “but we do strange things … when we sleep. Perhaps you–”

      “No,” Mr Crepsley interrupted. “You do not understand. I could not have done it because…” He looked away sheepishly. “I cannot read or write.”

      The vampire might have had two heads, the way Harkat and me gawped at him.

      “Of course you can read and write!” I bellowed. “You signed your name when we checked in.”

      “Signing one’s name is an easy feat,” he replied quietly, with wounded dignity. “I can read numbers and recognize certain words – I am able to read maps quite accurately – but as for genuine reading and writing…” He shook his head.

      “How can you not be able to read or write?” I asked ignorantly.

      “Things were different when I was young. The world was simpler. It was not necessary to be a master of the written word. I was the fifth child of a poor family and went to work at the age of eight.”

      “But … but…” I pointed a finger at him. “You told me you love Shakespeare’s plays and poems!”

      “I do,” he said. “Evanna read all his works to me over the decades. Wordsworth, Keats, Joyce — many others. I often meant to learn to read for myself, but I never got around to it.”

      “This is … I don’t … Why didn’t you tell me?” I snapped. “We’ve been together fifteen years, and this is the first time you’ve mentioned it!”

      He shrugged. “I assumed you knew. Many vampires are illiterate. That is why so little of our history or laws is written down — most of us are incapable of reading.”

      Shaking my head, exasperated, I put aside the vampire’s revelation and concentrated on the more immediate problem. “You didn’t fill out the forms — that’s settled. So who did and what are we going to do about it?”

      Mr Crepsley had no answer to that, but Harkat had a suggestion. “It could have been Mr Tiny,” he said. “He loves to stir things up. Perhaps this is his idea … of a joke.”

      We mulled that one over.

      “It has a whiff of him about it,” I agreed. “I can’t see why he’d want to send me back to school, but it’s the sort of trick I can imagine him pulling.”

      “Mr Tiny would appear to be the most logical culprit,” Mr Crepsley said. “Vampaneze are not known for their sense of humour. Nor do they go in for intricate plots — like vampires, they are simple and direct.”

      “Let’s say he is behind it,” I mused. “That still leaves us with the problem of what to do. Should I report for class Monday morning? Or do we ignore Mr Blaws’ warning and carry on as before?”

      “I would rather not send you,” Mr Crepsley said. “There is strength in unity. At present, we are well prepared to defend ourselves should we come under attack. With you at school, we would not be there to help you if you ran into trouble, and you would not be able to help us if our foes struck here.”

      “But if I don’t go,” I noted, “we’ll have school inspectors – and worse – dogging our heels.”

      “The other option is to leave,” Harkat said. “Just pack our bags and go.”

      “That is worth considering,” Mr Crepsley agreed. “I do not like the idea of leaving these people to suffer, but if this is a trap designed to divide us, perhaps the killings will stop if we leave.”

      “Or they might increase,” I said, “to tempt us back.”

      We thought about it some more, weighing up the various options.

      “I want to stay,” Harkat said eventually. “Life is getting more dangerous, but perhaps … that means we’re meant to be here. Maybe this city is where we’re destined … to lock horns with the Vampaneze Lord again.”

      “I agree with Harkat,” Mr Crepsley said, “but this is a matter for Darren to decide. As a Prince, he must make the decision.”

      “Thanks a lot,” I said sarcastically.

      Mr Crepsley smiled. “It is your decision, not only because you are a Prince, but because this concerns you the most — you will have to mix with human children and teachers, and you will be the most vulnerable to attack. Whether this is a vampaneze trap or a whim of Mr Tiny’s, life will be hard for you if we stay.”

      He was right. Going back to school would be a nightmare. I’d no idea what fifteen year olds studied. Classes would be hard. Homework would drive me loopy. And having to answer to teachers, after six years of lording it over the vampires as a Prince … It could get very uncomfortable.

      Yet part of me was drawn to the notion. To sit in a classroom again, to learn, make friends, show off my advanced physical skills in PE, maybe go out with a few girls…

      “The hell with it,” I grinned. “If it’s a trap, let’s call their bluff. If it’s a joke, we’ll show we know how to take it.”

      “That is the spirit,” Mr Crepsley boomed.

      “Besides,” I chuckled weakly, “I’ve endured the Trials of Initiation twice, a terrifying journey through an underground stream, encounters with killers, a bear and wild boars. How bad can school be?”

      CHAPTER FOUR

      I ARRIVED at Mahler’s an hour before classes began. I’d had a busy weekend. First there’d been my uniform to buy – a green jumper, light green shirt, green tie, grey trousers, black shoes – then books, notepaper and A4 writing pads, a ruler, pens and pencils, an eraser, set squares and a compass, as well as a scientific calculator, whose array of strange buttons – ‘INV’, ‘SIN’, ‘COS’, ‘EE’ – meant nothing to me. I’d also had to buy a homework report book, which I’d have to write all my homework assignments in — Mr Crepsley would have to sign the book each night, saying I’d done the work I was meant to.

      I shopped by myself СКАЧАТЬ