“He’s bold, this one,” Evanna chuckled. She slipped her hand out of Larten’s and gripped his chin. Tilting his head back, she gazed down at him. He thought for a moment that her eyes had traded places — hadn’t the blue one been on the right before? — but then she spoke and he lost interest in such trivialities.
“My home is my refuge from the world. I invite only a select handful of my closest friends to visit me there. Why should I welcome a snip of a vampire like you?”
He had the feeling that if he gave the wrong answer, he would never see the Lady of the Wilds again. Trying not to worry about that, he grinned shakily and said, “I am good with a flannel. If you ever cared to take a bath, I could scrub your back.”
Evanna blinked slowly. Larten could see her pondering whether to laugh or rip his head off. Fortunately for the young vampire, she chose to see the funny side of his proposition.
“Bold as a monkey,” Evanna chortled, releasing Larten’s chin and thumbing his nose. “A strange choice of assistant, Seba, but I like him. Aye, Larten Crepsley, you may visit anytime the fancy takes you.” She pressed a finger to his forehead and he felt something buzz deep inside his brain. “You will be able to find me whenever you wish.”
Evanna nodded at Wester politely, and although he couldn’t suppress a stab of jealousy, he managed a genuine smile. This confirmed what he had always thought — Larten was in some way superior to him, destined for greater things. Wester would have liked to be a vampire of import, but the world needed its secondary players too. There was no point wishing he could be more than he was. He was happy to make the most of whatever life had set aside for him.
Then the witch was off, slouching away, looking like a crazy woman who had escaped from bedlam. Arra Sails and the other apprentices shuffled after her, groaning as they pushed the cart. Arra rolled her eyes at Larten and he smiled sympathetically.
“Very well, gentlemen,” Seba exclaimed before the women had moved out of sight. “We have wasted enough years. It is time to return to more pressing matters. Grab your belongings and prepare for a hard trek. We make for Vampire Mountain immediately.”
Part Three
“It means respect ”
Chapter Ten
It was time for another Council at Vampire Mountain. Vampires traveled from all over the world to meet old friends, challenge one another, debate laws, tell tall tales and have a grand time. Larten and Wester were kept busy in advance, helping out in the gaming halls, preparing the rooms for the chaos of the Festival of the Undead.
The pair had been permanent fixtures in the mountain for the past few years. Both had passed their Trials of Initiation — five perilous tasks that all vampires had to overcome — not long after they’d returned with Seba. Larten took his Trials several months before Wester and sailed through, but Wester almost failed. In his second trial he’d faced two wild boars that had been driven insane with vampire blood. He managed to kill them, but one speared him with its tusks before it died and he had struggled to complete his last three trials.
Seba had visited Wester before his third trial and asked if he’d made peace with the vampire gods. Death was nothing to be afraid of as long as one was ready for it. Wester had nodded soberly and said he could die with no regrets if that was his fate.
Wester had summoned Larten a while later and told him what their master had said. Then, in a soft voice, he’d said, “I lied. I want you to make me a promise. It’s a lot to ask, and I’ll understand if you refuse, but if I die, I want you to track down and kill Murlough for me.”
Larten had almost made the promise — even though the vampaneze had spared their lives when they were his to take — but something in Wester’s expression stopped him. The Trials of Initiation were as much a mental as a physical obstacle. If you lost belief in yourself, it could prove as fatal as losing an arm or leg.
“Murlough is your nemesis, not mine,” Larten had said icily. “If you die, I will not pursue him on your behalf. I would not ask you to take my enemies as your own, and you should not ask it of me.”
Wester had been surprised and hurt, but he’d accepted Larten’s decision and grimly battled through the rest of his Trials, spurred on by his desire to survive and gain revenge for the slaughter of his family.
The pair had been studying hard under Seba and others since then, taking the first steps on the long road to becoming vampire Generals. Much of their time was spent learning the intricacies of combat. They would often pass entire nights in a gaming hall, sparring with each other, overseen by a tutor.
One of their tutors now bellowed at them to empty a chest full of axes. ‘What are you waiting for? The last vampire arrived three hours ago. The Festival starts at sunset. Perhaps you want them to hunt for the axes, to make a game of it?”
“Sorry, Vanez!” they roared, speeding up even though they had been working fast already.
Vanez Blane glared at the assistants, then moved on. He was in a foul mood. This was his first time working in the gaming Halls ahead of Council. The guards normally took care of such matters, but they’d been understaffed this year and he had volunteered to help. He regretted his offer now. So much to think about and take care of. He was determined not to fall into this trap again. As soon as Council finished he’d be off, and he would make sure he never got caught for duty like this a second time. He belonged in the wilds, not cooped up inside a mountain!
As busy and stressed as he was, Larten was looking forward to Council. The last few years had been dull and strenuous. While he didn’t regret his choice to join Seba again and devote himself to his studies, he missed the outside world, the travel, the nights spent drinking, gambling and flattering ladies, the thrill of warfare.
Larten was pleased with how he was developing. He learned swiftly and improved quickly. He wasn’t the biggest of vampires, but his speed and skills helped him get the better of most opponents. The nights of Larten being a punching bag for others were long gone.
Yet he wasn’t truly happy. He couldn’t put his finger on the reason for his discontent. He just felt as if he’d come here before he was finished with the world. He had no desire to be a Cub again or to run with a war pack, but he felt like he was missing out on something.
He often thought about Vur Horston and the plans they had made as children to explore every last inch of the world. Even though Larten had traveled the globe widely, he wanted to see more of it, to honorthe memory of his lost cousin. Of course he would be able to do that once he became a General — he could spend the rest of his life roaming if he wished — but Larten was impatient. He wanted to do it all and see it all now.
Still, he wouldn’t have to endure life inside the mountain much longer. Every vampire was forced to undergo a degree of training here if they wished to become a General, but the majority of their lessons could be learned on the road. Seba would take Larten and Wester away from here soon, perhaps at the end of Council, and they could study at a more relaxed pace while traveling far and wide as they had in the past.
When they’d finished setting out the axes, Larten and Wester reported to Vanez for further instructions. He kept them darting around the Halls and tunnels for the next few hours, yelling at them even when they worked speedily and efficiently. Larten was on the point of snapping back when Vanez suddenly smiled atthe pair.
‘You’ve done well,” he said. “Go get ready for the Festival. And please forgive me if I vented my frustrations on you.”
“Nothing to forgive,” Larten grinned, then shared an excited look with Wester. They hurried down to the Hall of Perta Vin-Grahl for a quick wash, then to the cave they shared with Seba and five others, to pull on their finest clothes and make sure they looked their best for the opening ceremony.
The first few hours of the Festival were crazy as usual, vampires fighting as if the clan was on the point of extinction and there would be nobody left for them to battle the following night. Bones were shattered, limbs were
