Darren Shan: Hunters Of The Dusk

Evanna would not be travelling with us. The witch told us she was returning to her cave and frogs, to prepare for the tragedies to come. "And there will be tragedies," she said, a sparkle in her brown and green eyes. "Whether for the vampires or vampaneze, I don't yet know. But it must end in tears for one set, that much is certain."

I can't say I missed the short, hairy, ugly witch when she left — her dark predictions had brought nothing but gloom into our lives, and I thought we were better off without her.

Vancha would also be departing by himself. We'd agreed that he should return to Vampire Mountain and tell the others of our encounter with the Lord of the Vampaneze. They needed to know about Gannen Harst. Vancha would link up with us again later, by tracking Mr. Crepsley's mental waves.

We bid short farewells to our friends at the Cirque Du Freak. Evra was sad that I had to leave so soon, but he knew my life was complicated. Shancus was even sadder — it would be his birthday soon and he'd been anticipating a wonderful present. I told the snake-boy I'd find something exciting on the road and send it to him — although I couldn't guarantee it would reach him in time for his birthday — and that cheered him up.

Truska asked if I wanted to take my newly tailored pirate costume with me. I told her to hang on to it — it would only get stained and torn during my travels. I swore I'd be back to try it out. She said I'd better, then treated me to a long goodbye kiss which had Vancha seething with jealousy.

Mr. Tall met us at the edge of camp as we were about to leave. "Sorry I couldn't come earlier," he said. "Business to deal with. The show must go on."

"Take care, Hibernius," Mr. Crepsley said, shaking the tall man's hand. For once Mr. Tall didn't shirk away from the contact.

"You too, Larten," he replied, a grave expression on his face. Looking around at us, he said, "Dark times lie ahead, regardless of the outcome of your quest. I want you to know that there will always be a home for you — all of you — here at the Cirque Du Freak. I can't play as active a part in the deciding of the future as I wish, but I can offer sanctuary."

We thanked him for his offer, then watched as he walked away and was swallowed by the shadows of his beloved circus camp.

Facing each other, we hesitated, reluctant to part.

"Well!" Vancha boomed eventually. "Time I was off. It's a long trek to Vampire Mountain, even when flitting." Vampires weren't supposed to flit on the way to the mountain fortress, but the rules had been relaxed during wartime to allow for quicker communication between Generals and Princes.

Each of us shook Vancha's hand. I felt miserable at the thought of parting with the red-skinned, sun-fighting Prince. "Cheer up," he laughed at my gloomy expression. "I'll be back in time to lead the second charge against the Vampaneze Lord. You have my word, and Vancha March never broke…" He paused. "'March' or 'Harst'?" he mused aloud, then spat into the dirt at his feet. "Charna's guts! I've gone this long as Vancha March — I'll stick with it."

Saluting, he turned abruptly and jogged away. Soon he was running. Then, in a flash, he hit flitting speed and was lost to sight.

"And then there were three," Mr. Crepsley muttered, gazing at Harkat and me.

"Back where we started six years ago," I said.

"But we had a destination then," Harkat noted. "Where are we going… this time?"

I looked to Mr. Crepsley for an answer.

He shrugged. "We can decide later. For now, let us simply walk."

Hoisting our bags on to our backs, we spared the Cirque Du Freak one last, lingering glimpse, then faced the cold, unwelcoming darkness and set forth, surrendering ourselves to the forces of destiny and future terrors of the night.