Vampire Mountain. Darren Shan

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      CHAPTER ONE

      I WAS excited but anxious about the journey – I was venturing into the unknown, and I’d a feeling it wouldn’t prove to be a smooth trip – so I spent the day busily packing rucksacks for myself and Mr Crepsley, to make the time pass faster. (Full-vampires will die if exposed to the sun for more than a few hours, but half-vampires aren’t affected by it.) Since I didn’t know where we were going, I didn’t know what to take or leave. If Vampire Mountain was icy and wintry, I’d need thick clothes and boots; if it was somewhere hot and tropical, T-shirts and shorts would be more in order.

      I asked some of the Cirque people about it but they knew nothing, except Mr Tall, who said I should pack for snow. Mr Tall was one of those people who seem to know something about everything.

      Evra agreed about the snow. “I doubt if sun-shy vampires would make their base in the Caribbean!” he snorted.

      Evra Von was a snake-boy, with scales instead of skin. Rather, he used to be a snake-boy — now he was a snake-man. Evra had grown these last six years, got taller and broader and older-looking. I hadn’t. As a half-vampire, I aged at one-fifth the normal rate. So, though eight years had passed since Mr Crepsley blooded me, I only looked a year or so older.

      I hated not being able to grow normally. Evra and me used to be best buddies, but not any more. We were still good friends and shared a tent, but he was a young man now, more interested in people – particularly women! – his own age. In reality I was only a couple of years younger than Evra, but I looked like a kid, and it was difficult for him to treat me as an equal.

      There were benefits to being a half-vampire – I was stronger and faster than any human, and would live longer – but I’d have given them all up if it meant looking my real age and being able to lead an ordinary life.

      Even though Evra and me were no longer as close as we’d once been, he was still my friend, and was worried about me heading off for Vampire Mountain. “From what I know, that journey’s no joke,” he warned in the deep voice which hit him a few years ago. “Maybe I should come with you.”

      I’d have loved to jump at his offer, but Evra had his own life to lead. It wouldn’t be fair to drag him away from the Cirque Du Freak. “No,” I told him. “Stay and keep my hammock warm. I’ll be OK. Besides, snakes don’t like the cold, do they?”

      “That’s true,” he laughed. “I’d most likely fall asleep and hibernate till spring!”

      Even though Evra wouldn’t be coming, he helped me pack. I didn’t have much to take: spare clothes, a thick pair of boots, special cooking utensils which folded up neatly so they were easier to carry, my diary – that went everywhere with me – and other bits and pieces. Evra told me to take a rope — he said it might come in handy, especially when it came to climbing.

      “But vampires are great climbers,” I reminded him.

      “I know,” he said, “but do you really want to hang off the side of a mountain with only your fingertips for support?”

      “Of course he does!” someone boomed behind us before I could answer. “Vampires thrive on danger.”

      Turning to see who it was, I found myself face to face with the sinister being known as Mr Tiny, and my insides instantly froze with fright.

      Mr Tiny was a small, plump man, with white hair, thick glasses and a pair of green wellies. He often toyed with a heart-shaped watch. He looked like a kindly old uncle but was in fact a cruel, dark-hearted man, who’d cut your tongue out as soon as say “hello”. Nobody knew much about him, but everyone was afraid of him. His first name was Desmond, and if you shortened it and put it together with his surname you got Mr Destiny.

      I hadn’t seen Mr Tiny since shortly after joining the Cirque Du Freak, but I’d heard many tales about him – how he ate children for breakfast, and burned down towns to warm his feet. My heart tightened when I saw him standing a few metres away, eyes twinkling, hands wrapped behind his back, eavesdropping on Evra and me.

      “Vampires are peculiar creatures,” he said, stepping forward, as though he’d been part of the conversation all along. “They love a challenge. I knew one once who walked himself to death in sunlight, merely because someone had sneered at him for only being able to come out at night.”

      He stuck out a hand and, scared as I was, I automatically shook it. Evra didn’t — when Mr Tiny extended his hand to the snake-man, he stood, quivering, shaking his head furiously. Mr Tiny merely smiled and withdrew the hand.

      “So, you’re off to Vampire Mountain,” he said, picking up my rucksack and peering inside without asking. “Take matches, Master Shan. The way is long and the days are cold. The winds that gust around Vampire Mountain would cut even a tough-skinned young man like you to the bone.”

      “Thanks for the advice,” I said.

      That was the confusing thing about Mr Tiny: he was always polite and amiable, so even if you knew he was the sort of man who wouldn’t blink in the face of great evil, you couldn’t help liking him at least some of the time.

      “Are my Little People near?” he asked. The Little People were short creatures who dressed in blue robes with hoods, never spoke, and ate anything that moved (including humans!). A handful of the mysterious beings almost always travelled with the Cirque Du Freak, and there were eight of them with us at that time.

      “They’re probably in their tent,” I said. “I took them in some food an hour or so ago and I think they’re still eating.” One of my jobs was to hunt for the Little People. Evra used to do it with me, until he grew up and demanded less messy chores. Nowadays I was helped by a couple of young humans, children of the Cirque helpers.

      “Excellent,” Mr Tiny beamed, and started away. “Oh,” СКАЧАТЬ