Книга - Trials of Death

Trials of Death
Darren Shan


This is the fifth title in the compelling and chilling saga of Darren Shan, but the second part in a new trilogy, following Darren’s initiation into the vampire clan.Compelled by his loyalty to Mr Crepsley, Darren Shan, the vampire’s assistant, agrees to prove his worthiness to the vampire clan by undertaking a series of trials. Each Trial is set by the Vampire Princes to test agility, cunning and intelligence. Failure means death.Whilst their attention is focused on Darren, the vampire clan fail to notice that the vampaneze have infiltrated their mountain stronghold. Who is the traitor helping the vampaneze, and will Darren survive the trials to oust the vampire’s greatest foes?Another atmospheric and terrifying tale from the author of Cirque Du Freak.









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


THE AQUATIC Maze was man-made, built with a low ceiling and watertight walls. There were four doors in and out of it, one in each of its four external walls. From the centre, where I would be left, it normally took five or six minutes to find your way out, assuming you didn’t get lost.

But in the Trial, you had to drag around a heavy rock – half your weight – which slowed you down. With the rock, eight or nine minutes was good going.

But as well as the rock, there was the water to contend with. As soon as the Trial commenced, the maze started to fill with water, which was pumped in via hoses from underground streams. The water slowed you down even more, and navigating the maze usually took about a quarter of an hour. If it took longer, you were in serious trouble — because the maze filled to the top in seventeen minutes exactly.

“It’s vital not to panic,” Vanez said. We were down in one of the practice mazes, a smaller replica of the Aquatic Maze. The route wasn’t the same – the walls of the Aquatic Maze could be moved around, so the maze was different each time – but it served as a good learning experience. “Most who fail in the Maze do so because they panic,” he went on. “It can be frightening when the water rises and the going gets slower and tougher. You have to fight that fear and concentrate on the route. If you let the water distract you, you’ll lose your bearings — and then you’re finished.”

We spent the early part of the night walking through the maze, over and over, Vanez teaching me how to make a map inside my head. “Each wall of the maze looks the same,” he said, “but they aren’t. There are identifying marks — a discoloured stone, a jagged bit of floor, a crack. You must note these small differences and build your map from them. That way, if you find yourself in a passage where you’ve already been, you’ll recognize it and can immediately start looking for a new way out, wasting no time in the process.”

I spent hours learning how to make mental maps of the maze. It was a lot harder than it sounds. The first few passages were easy to remember – a chipped stone in the top left corner of one, a moss-covered stone in the floor of the next, a knobbly stone in the ceiling of the one after that – but the further on I got, the more I had to remember, and the more confusing it became. I had to find something new in every corridor, because if I used a mark which was similar to one I’d committed to memory already, I’d get the two confused and would wind up chasing my tail around.

“You’re not concentrating!” Vanez snapped when I came to a standstill for the seventh or eighth time in quick succession.

“I’m trying,” I grumbled, “but it’s hard.”

“Trying isn’t good enough,” he barked. “You have to tune out all other thoughts. Forget the Trials and the water and what will happen if you fail. Forget about dinner and breakfast and whatever else is distracting you. Think only about the maze. It must fill your thoughts completely, or you’re doomed.”

It wasn’t easy, but I gave it my best shot, and within an hour had improved considerably. Vanez was right — cutting off all other trains of thought was the solution. It was boring, wandering through a maze for hours on end, but that boredom was what I had to learn to appreciate. In the Aquatic Maze, excitement could confuse and kill me.

Once my map-making skills were up to scratch, Vanez wrapped a long rope round my waist and attached a rock to the other end. “This rock is only a quarter of your weight,” he said. “We’ll try you with a heavier rock later, but I don’t want to tire you out too much ahead of the Trial. We’ll get you accustomed to this one first, move up to a rock that’s a third your weight, then try you on the real thing for a short spell, to give you a taste of how it feels.”

The rock wasn’t especially heavy – as a half-vampire, I was much stronger than a human – but it was a nuisance. Apart from slowing me down, it also had a nasty habit of catching on corners or in cracks, which meant I had to stop and free it. “It’s important to stop the instant you feel it snagging,” Vanez said. “Your natural instinct will be to tug on the rope and free it quickly, but more often than not that worsens the situation, and you wind up taking even longer to sort it out. Seconds are vital in the maze. It’s better to act methodically and lose four or five seconds freeing yourself, than act hastily and lose ten or twenty.”

There were ways to stop the rock and rope from snagging so much. When I came to corners or bends, I had to seize the rope and pull the rock in close to me — that way it was less likely to get stuck. And it was helpful to give the rope a shake every few seconds — that kept it loose. “But you have to do these things automatically,” Vanez said. “You must do them without pausing to think. Your brain should be fully occupied with mapping the maze. Everything else must be done by instinct.”

“It’s useless,” I groaned, sinking to the floor. “It’d take months to get ready for this. I haven’t a hope in hell.”

“Of course you have!” Vanez roared. Squatting beside me, he poked me in the ribs. “Feel that?” he asked, jabbing a sharp finger into the soft flesh of my belly.

“Ow!” I slapped his hand away. “Quit it!”

“It’s sharp?” he asked, jabbing me again. “It hurts?”

“Yes!”

He grunted, jabbed me one more time, then stood. “Imagine how much sharper the stakes in the Hall of Death are,” he said.

Sighing miserably, I hauled myself to my feet and wiped sweat from my brow. Picking up the rope, I gave it a shake, then started back through the maze, dragging the rock and mapping out the walls, as Vanez had taught me.



Finally we broke for a meal and met up with Mr Crepsley and Harkat in the Hall of Khledon Lurt. I wasn’t hungry – I felt too nervous to eat – but Vanez insisted I wolf my food down — he said I’d need every last bit of energy when it came to the Trial.

“How is he progressing?” Mr Crepsley asked. He’d wanted to watch me train, but Vanez had told him he’d be in the way.

“Remarkably well,” Vanez said, chewing on the bones of a skewered rat. “To be honest, though I slapped on a brave face when the Trial was picked, I thought he’d be – excuse the pun – out of his depth. The Aquatic Maze isn’t one of the more brutal Trials, but it’s one you need a lot of time to prepare for. But he’s a quick learner. We’ve still got a lot to cram in – we haven’t tried him in water yet – but I’m a lot more hopeful now than I was a handful of hours ago.”

Harkat had brought Madam Octa – Mr Crepsley’s spider – to the Hall with him and was feeding her breadcrumbs soaked in bat broth. He’d agreed to take care of her while I was concentrating on my Trials. Moving away from the vampires, I struck up a conversation with the Little Person. “Managing her OK?” I asked.

“Yes. She is … easy to … take care of.”

“Just don’t let her out of her cage,” I warned. “She looks cute, but her bite is lethal.”

“I know. I have … often watched … you and her … when you … were on stage … at the Cirque … Du Freak.”

Harkat’s speech was improving – he slurred his words a lot less now – but he still had to take long pauses for breath in the middle of sentences.

“Do you think … you will … be ready … for Trial?” he asked.

I shrugged. “Right now, the Trial’s the last thing on my mind — I’m not even sure I’m going to get through the training! Vanez is working me hard. I suppose he has to, but I feel exhausted. I could slide under the table and sleep for a week.”

“I have been … listening to … vampires talk,” Harkat said. “Many are … betting on you.”

“Oh?” I sat up, taking an interest. “What sort of odds are they giving me?”

“They do not … have actual … odds. They bet … clothes and … pieces of … jewellery. Most vampires … are betting … against you. Kurda and Gavner … and Arra … are accepting … most of the … bets. They … believe in you.”

“That’s good to hear,” I smiled. “What about Mr Crepsley?”

Harkat shook his head. “He said … he does not … bet. Especially not … on children.”

“That’s the sort of thing the dry old buzzard would say,” I huffed, trying not to sound disappointed.

“But I … heard him talking … to Seba Nile,” Harkat added. “He said … that if you … failed, he would … eat his cape.”

I laughed, delighted.

“What are you two talking about?” Mr Crepsley asked.

“Nothing,” I said, grinning up at him.

When we’d finished eating, Vanez and me headed back for the maze, where we practised with heavier rocks and in water. The next few hours were some of the most arduous of my life, and by the time he called it a night and sent me to my cell to rest, I was so tired that I collapsed halfway there and had to be carted back to my hammock by a couple of sympathetic guards.











CHAPTER FOUR


I WAS so stiff when I woke that I thought I wouldn’t be able to make it to the maze, never mind find my way out of it! But after a couple of minutes of walking around, I worked off the stiffness and felt as fit as ever. I realized Vanez had pushed me exactly the right amount, and made a note not to doubt his tactics in future.

I was hungry but Vanez had told me not to eat anything when I woke — if things were tight, a few extra pounds could mean the difference between living and dying.

Mr Crepsley and Vanez fetched me when it was time. Both were clad in their finest clothes, Mr Crepsley resplendent in bright red robes, Vanez less flamboyant in a dull brown tunic and trousers.

“Ready?” Vanez asked. I nodded. “Hungry?”

“Starving!”

“Good,” he smiled. “I’ll treat you to the finest meal of your life after the Trial. Think about that if you get into trouble — it helps to have something to look forward to.”

We wound our way down through the torch-lit tunnels to the Aquatic Maze, Vanez walking in front of me, Mr Crepsley and Harkat just behind. Vanez carried a purple flag, the sign that he was escorting a vampire to Trial. Most of the vampires we passed made a strange gesture when they saw me coming: they put the tip of their right-hand middle finger to their forehead, placed the tips of the fingers to either side of it on their eyelids, and spread their thumb and little finger out wide to the sides.

“Why are they doing that?” I asked Vanez.

“It’s a customary gesture,” he explained. “We call it the death’s touch sign. It means, ‘Even in death, may you be triumphant’.”

“I’d rather they just said, ‘Good luck’,” I muttered.

“That doesn’t have quite the same resonance,” Vanez chuckled. “We believe that the gods of the vampires respect those who die nobly. They bless us when a vampire meets death proudly, and curse us when one dies meekly or poorly.”

“So they want me to die well for their own sakes,” I said sarcastically.

“For the sake of the clan,” Vanez corrected me seriously. “A vampire of good standing always puts the good of the clan before his own wellbeing. Even in death. The hand gesture is to remind you of that.”

The Aquatic Maze was built in the pit of a large cavern. From the top it looked like a long square box. Around the sides of the pit were forty or fifty vampires, the most the cave could hold. Among them were Gavner and Kurda, Seba Nile and Arra Sails — and Mika Ver Leth, the Vampire Prince who’d sentenced me to the Trials.

Mika summoned us over, nodded gravely to Vanez and Mr Crepsley, then fixed his icy gaze on me. He was dressed in his customary black outfit and looked even sterner than Mr Crepsley. “You have prepared for the Trial?” he asked.

“I have.”

“You know what lies ahead of you?”

“I do.”

“Except for the four exits, there is no escape from the maze,” he said. “Should you fail this Trial, you will not have to face the Hall of Death.”

“I’d rather the stakes to drowning,” I grunted.

“Most vampires would,” he agreed. “But you need not worry — it is still water, not running.”

I frowned. “What’s that got to do with anything?”

“Still water cannot trap a vampire’s soul,” he explained.

“Oh, that old myth,” I laughed. Many vampires believed that if you died in a river or stream, your soul remained trapped forever by the flowing water. “That doesn’t bother me. It’s the drowning I’m not fond of!”

“Either way, I wish you luck,” Mika said.

“No you don’t,” I sniffed.

“Darren!” Mr Crepsley hissed.

“It’s all right,” Mika silenced him with a wave of his hand. “Let the boy speak his piece.”

“You made me take the Trials,” I said. “You don’t think I’m good enough to be a vampire. You’ll be happy if I fail, because it’ll prove you were right.”

“Your assistant has a low opinion of me, Larten,” Mika remarked.

“He is young, Mika. He does not know his place.”

“Don’t apologize for him. The young should speak their thoughts.” He addressed me directly again. “You are right in one thing only, Darren Shan — I don’t think you have what it takes to make it as a vampire. As for the rest of what you say…” He shook his head. “No vampire takes pleasure in seeing another fail. I sincerely hope you prove me wrong. We need vampires of good standing, now more than ever. I will raise a glass of blood to your name should you complete the Trials, and willingly admit in public that I misjudged you.”

“Oh,” I said, bemused. “In that case, I guess I’m sorry for what I said. No hard feelings?”

The black-haired, eagle-eyed Prince smiled tightly. “No hard feelings.” Then he clapped his hands loudly, barked sharply: “May the gods bless you with the luck of the vampires!” — and the Trial commenced.



I was blindfolded, placed on a stretcher and carried into the heart of the maze by four guards — so I couldn’t memorize the way. Once inside, I was set down and the blindfold was removed. I found myself in a narrow corridor, about a metre and a half wide, less than two metres high. My size would work in my favour in this Trial — tall vampires had to stoop, which made the going even harder.

“You are ready?” one of the guards asked.

“I’m ready,” I said, glancing around the corridor to find my first marker. I spotted a whitish stone in the wall to my left and made a note of it, starting my mental map-making process.

“You must stay here till the water pours,” the guard said. “That’s the signal for the start of the Trial. Nobody can check on you once we leave, so there’s nothing to prevent you cheating, apart from your conscience.”

“I won’t cheat,” I snapped. “I’ll wait for the water.”

“I’m sure you will,” the vampire smiled apologetically. “I had to say it anyway — tradition.”

The four guards gathered up the stretcher and left. They were all wearing extra soft shoes, so their footsteps made no noise.

Small candles were set in glass bulbs in the roof of the maze, so I’d have plenty of light to see by, even when the water rose high.

My nerves gnawed at me while I was waiting for the water to gush. A cowardly voice inside my head niggled at me to make an early beginning. Nobody would ever know. Better to live with a little shame than die because of stupid pride.

I ignored the voice — I’d never be able to look Mr Crepsley, Gavner or the others in the eye if I cheated.

Finally there was a gurgling sound and water bubbled up out of a nearby pipe. Breathing a sigh of relief, I hurried for the end of the corridor, dragging my rock behind me, shaking the rope at regular intervals, as Vanez had taught me.

I made good time to start with. The water barely hindered me and there were plenty of striking stones to identify the different corridors by. I didn’t panic when I came to a dead end or worked my way back to a corridor I’d already visited, just stuck my head down and kept walking, taking a new route.

The going got tough after five or six minutes. The water was up above my knees. Each step was an endeavour. The rock now felt like it weighed a tonne. I was having trouble breathing and my muscles ached, especially those in my legs and back.

Still I didn’t panic. Vanez had prepared me for this. I had to accept the water, not fight it. I let my pace drop. The mistake many vampires made was to try walking quickly — they exhausted themselves early and never got anywhere near the end.

Another couple of minutes passed. I was growing anxious. There was no way to tell how close or far from the finish I was. I could be a single turn away from an exit door without knowing it — or nowhere near one. At least I’d recognize an exit if I saw it — a huge white X was painted on all four doors and a large black button was at the centre of the X. All I had to do was press that button and the door would open, the water would flood out, and I’d be safe.

The trouble was finding it. The water was up to my chest by this stage and the rock was getting heavier all the time. I’d stopped shaking the rope – it was too much of an effort – and could feel it drifting along behind me, threatening to stick between my legs. That happened sometimes — vampires got knotted up in the rope and came to a standstill, drowning where they stood.

I was turning a corner when the rock snagged on something. I gave the rope a pull, trying to free it — to no avail. Taking a deep breath, I dived down to see what was wrong. I found the rock had jammed against a large crack in a wall. It only took a few seconds to prise it loose, but when I sprang up, I suddenly realized that my mind was a blank. Had I been in this tunnel before? I looked for a familiar sign but couldn’t spot any. There was a yellow stone high up in one of the walls, and I thought I’d passed it earlier, but I didn’t know for sure.

I was lost!

I lurched to the end of the corridor, then up another, desperately trying to establish my position. Panic flooded my system. I kept thinking, “I’m going to drown! I’m going to drown!” I could have passed a dozen markers and not recognized any of them, I was so stressed out.

The water was up to my chin. It splashed into my mouth. Sputtering, I slapped at the water, as though that would make it go away. I stumbled and fell. Came up spitting water and gasping. Terrified, I started to scream…

…and that stopped me. The sound of my roars snapped me back to my senses. I remembered Vanez’s advice, stood perfectly still, shut my eyes and refused to budge until I had the panic under control. I concentrated on the thought of the feast that awaited me. Fresh meat, wild roots and fruit. A bottle of human blood to perk me up. Dessert — mountain berries, hot and juicy.

I opened my eyes. My heart had stopped beating like a drum and the worst of the panic attack had passed. I waded slowly down the corridor, searching for a marker. If I could find one, I was sure I’d recall the rest of my mental map. I reached the end of the corridor — no markers. The next corridor was new to me as well. And the one after that. And the next.

I could feel the panic bubbling up again when I spotted a candle holder set in a pale grey circular stone — one of my markers! I stared at the candle and waited for my map to reform. For several long seconds my mind remained as terrifyingly blank as it had been — then the map fell back into place. It came to me in sections first, a piece at a time, then in a rush. I stood where I was for a few more seconds, making sure I had it clear in my head, before continuing.

The water was up to my lower lip now. The going was almost impossible. I had to proceed in sluggish jumps, lurching forward to keep my head above water, being extra careful not to bash it on the ceiling. How long before I ran out of air? Three minutes? Four? It couldn’t be much more than that. I had to find the way out — and quick!

Concentrating on the map inside my head, I tried figuring out how far away I was from the spot where I’d started. By my reckoning, I should be near one of the border walls. If I was, and the exit door was close by, I stood a chance. Otherwise the Trial was as good as over.

Turning a corner, I ran into my first stretch of border wall. I knew it immediately, because the stones were darker and rougher than the rest of the maze. There was no X printed on it, but my heart gave a joyous leap all the same. Backtracking, I banished the map from my thoughts — it was no use to me any longer — and hurried along to the next turning, searching for that elusive X.

I found four different sections of border wall, none of which contained the exit. The water was almost up to the ceiling now. I was swimming more than walking, pressing my lips to the roof to draw in air. I’d have been OK if not for the wretched rock — it dragged behind me worse than ever when I tried to swim, slowing me down to a crawl.

As I paused to draw breath, I realized it was time to make a critical decision. Vanez had discussed this with me in the practice maze. He’d hoped things wouldn’t reach this stage, but if they did, it was vital that I chose correctly.

If I continued as I was, I’d perish. I was making very little progress and in a minute or two the water would cover my face completely and I’d drown. The time had come to gamble. One last roll of the dice. If the luck of the vampires was with me, it would mean survival. If not…

I took several deep breaths, filling my lungs, then ducked under the water and dived to the floor. Picking up the rock, I turned over, so I was floating on my back, and placed the rock on my belly. Then I swam. It was awkward – streams of water forced themselves up my nose – but this was the only way to stop the rock from dragging on me.

Vampires can hold their breath longer than humans – five or six minutes, easily – but because I was on my back, I had to keep blowing air out through my nose, to stop the water going up it, so I’d have two, three minutes at most before I ran out of oxygen and drowned.

Swimming around another corner, I stared down a long corridor. I could spot the shape of what must be border wall at the end, but I was too far away to see if there was an X on it or not. I thought there might be, but that could be my mind playing tricks — Vanez had warned me about underwater mirages.

I swam up the corridor. About half-way, I realized there was no X – a long crack in the stones had fooled me – so I turned and quickly headed back the way I’d come. The weight of the rock was forcing me down. I stopped, put my feet on the floor and used them to push myself up, then straightened out and resumed swimming.

I searched in vain for another glimpse of border wall but the next two turnings both led to other corridors, not the wall. My oxygen was running out. It was getting harder and harder to move my arms and legs.

The next turn didn’t lead to border wall either, but I had no time to swim ahead and look for another turning. Summoning all of my energy, I swam down the short corridor and took the right turn at the end. That led to another short corridor. As I started down it, the rock slipped off my belly, scratching me as it fell. I yelped without thinking. Water rushed in and air rushed out.

Coughing, I struck for the ceiling to draw more air, but when I reached it, I found the water had beaten me to the punch — there was no more air to be had!

I trod water, silently cursing the fates and vampire gods. This was the end. I’d given it my best shot but it wasn’t to be. The best thing now would be to open my mouth, gulp in water and make as quick a finish of it as I could. I would have, too, except this corridor wasn’t well lit, and I didn’t like the idea of dying in darkness. So, painfully, I dived again to the floor, gathered the rock, turned over on to my back, placed the rock on my belly, and swam ahead to find somewhere brighter to die.

As I made the left turn at the end of corridor, I spotted the dark stone of border wall. I smiled weakly, remembering how excited that would have made me a few minutes ago. I rolled over on to my belly, so that I could die on my feet — then stopped.

There was an X on the wall!

I stared at it stupidly while precious air bubbles popped out of my mouth. Was this another trick of my mind? Another false crack? It must be. There was no way I could be this lucky. I should ignore it and…

No! It was an X!

I was out of air and strength, but the sight of that X gave me a new lease of life. Making use of resources I hadn’t known I had, I kicked hard with my legs and shot towards the wall like a bullet. I bumped my head against it, recoiled, then rolled over and studied the large, rough X.

I was so delighted to find the X, I almost didn’t think to push the button at its centre. What a farce that would have been — to come so far and fail at the very end! But, thankfully, I was spared that indignity. Of its own accord, my left hand crept out, ran its fingers over the button set in the X, then pressed it. The button slid inwards and the X vanished as the stone slid back into the wall.

With a huge slushing roar, water gushed out through the gap. I was carried along with it, coming to a jolt just beyond the door when my rock caught on something. My eyes and mouth were shut, and for a while it seemed like I was still submerged in the maze, as water flooded out over my head. Gradually, though, the level diminished, and I realized I could breathe.

Following the deepest single breath of my life, I opened my eyes and blinked. The cavern seemed a lot brighter than it had less than half an hour ago, when I’d been led down to it by Vanez Blane. I felt like I was sitting on a beach on a warm summer’s day.

Cheers and hollers reached my ears. Staring around like a fish on dry land, I noticed delighted vampires streaming towards me, splashing through pools of water, whooping with excitement. I was too tired to identify their faces, but I recognized the orange crop of hair on the vampire leading the way — Mr Crepsley.

As the water subsided, I struggled to my feet and stood outside the door of the Aquatic Maze, smiling foolishly, rubbing the bump on my head where I’d connected with the wall. “You did it, Darren!” Mr Crepsley roared, reaching my side and throwing his arms around me in a rare display of affection.

Another vampire embraced me and yelled, “I thought you’d had it! So much time had passed, I was sure you’d failed!”

Blinking water from my eyes, I made out the features of Kurda and Gavner. And, close behind, Vanez and Arra. “Mr Crepsley? Kurda? Vanez? What are you doing on a beach in the middle of the day?” I asked. “You’ll sizzle in the sunlight if you don’t watch out.”

“He’s delirious!” someone laughed.

“Who would not be?” Mr Crepsley replied, hugging me proudly.

“Think I’ll sit down a while,” I muttered. “Call me when it’s time to build sand castles.” And, collapsing on my bottom, I stared up at the roof, convinced it was the wide open sky, and hummed merrily to myself while the vampires fussed around me.











CHAPTER FIVE


I WAS shivering like a bedraggled rat when I woke late the next day. I’d been asleep for fifteen hours or more! Vanez was there to bid me good morning. He handed me a small mug full of a dark liquid and told me to drink.

“What is it?” I asked.

“Brandy,” he said. I hadn’t tried brandy before. After the first mouthful, which made me gag, I decided I quite liked it. “Steady on,” Vanez laughed as I poured it freely down my throat. “You’ll get drunk!”

Laying aside the mug, I hiccuped and grinned. Then I remembered the Trial. “I did it!” I shouted, jumping up. “I found the way out!”

“You certainly did,” Vanez agreed. “It was a close-run thing. You were in there just over twenty minutes. Did you have to swim towards the finish?”





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