Darren Shan - Vampire Prince

Sinking back, I shook my head miserably and held my tongue. This was too big. It wasn't for me to decide. Kurda had fashioned his own downfall. He must stand alone to face it. I felt lousy, not sticking up for him, but I'd have felt just as lousy if I had.

When it became apparent that the judgment of the Princes was not going to be called into question, Paris signaled the guards on the platform, who surrounded Kurda and stripped him bare. Kurda said nothing as they robbed him of his clothes and pride, just gazed up at the roof of the Hall.

When Kurda was naked, Paris held his fingers together tight, dipped them in a bowl of snake's blood that had been hidden behind his throne, and ran his hand over Kurda's chest. Mika and Arrow followed suit, leaving three ugly red marks — the sign among the vampires for a traitor or one of bad standing.

Once Kurda had been marked, his guards led him away. Nobody spoke or made a sound. He kept his head bowed low as he exited, but I saw tears dripping down his cheeks as he passed. He was lonely and scared. I wanted to comfort him, but it was too late for that. Better to let him pass without delay.

This time, as he was guided past the assembled vampires, nobody jeered or tried to harm him. There was a brief pause when he reached the open doors, to clear the way through the vampires packed beyond, then he was escorted out of the Hall and down through the tunnels to the Hall of Death, where he was caged, blindfolded, raised above the pit of stakes, then brutally and painfully executed. And that was the end of the traitor… my friend… Kurda Smahlt.

Ididn't go to watch Kurda being killed. Nor did I stick around for the trials of the vampaneze. Instead, I returned to my cell, where I remained until it was time, late the next night, for the funerals of Arra Sails, Gavner Purl, and the others who'd died fighting to protect Vampire Mountain. Gavner's body had been recovered after the battle. Kurda told his guards where to find it, and a search party soon located it, stuffed into a deep crack far down the mountain.

Streak and his fellow wolf had returned to the pack. They slipped away without a fuss, not long after the fighting had finished, leaving their dead companion behind. I never had a chance to say good-bye or thank them.

I wondered if I'd ever run with the pack again. It seemed unlikely, even if my life was spared by the Princes. Now that Council was coming to an end, the wolves would be dispersing, to return to their usual hunting grounds. I'd probably seen the last of Streak, Rudi, and the rest.

I spent the time between the trials and the funerals working on my diary. I hadn't touched it since coming to Vampire Mountain. I read back over my earlier entries, then described all that had happened to me since I left the Cirque Du Freak and set out for the mountain with Mr. Crepsley. I managed to lose myself in the diary, so time flew by. I normally didn't enjoy writing — too much like homework — but once I started telling the story, the words tumbled out with hardly any effort. My pen only paused a couple of times, when I slipped away to eat and caught an hour or two of sleep.

I hoped the writing would help me get things straight in my head, especially with regards to Kurda, but I was just as confused by the end as I'd been at the beginning. No matter how I looked at it, I couldn't help feeling that Kurda had been both a hero and a villain. Things would be simpler if he was one or the other, but I couldn't pigeonhole him. It was just too complicated.

Kurda had wanted to prevent the destruction of the vampires. To that end, he'd betrayed them. Was he evil for doing so? Or would it have been worse to act nobly and let his people perish? Should you stay true to your friends, whatever the consequences? I found it impossible to decide. Part of me hated Kurda and believed he deserved to be killed; another part remembered his good intentions and amiable manner and wished there'd been some other way of punishing him, short of execution.

Mr. Crepsley came to fetch Harkat and me before I finished writing. I'd gotten most of the story down, but there was a bit left, so I stuck my pen between a couple of pages to mark my place, set it aside, and accompanied the sorrowful vampire to the Hall of Cremation to bid farewell to our dear departed friends and allies.

Gavner Purl was the first to be cremated, since he was the first who'd fallen. He'd been dressed in a simple white robe and placed on a thin stretcher in the cremation pit. He looked peaceful lying there, eyes closed, short brown hair carefully combed, lips worked into a smile by the Guardians of the Blood who'd prepared his body. Though I knew the Guardians had removed all of Gavner's blood, along with most of his internal organs and brain, there were no visible signs of their handiwork.

I started to tell Mr. Crepsley what Gavner's final words had been, but as I did, I burst into tears. Mr. Crepsley wrapped his arms around me and let me sob into his chest, patting me comfortingly. "Do you want to leave?" he asked.

"No," I moaned. "I want to stay. It's just… hard, you know?"

"I know," Mr. Crepsley said, and by the tears in his own eyes, I knew he meant it.

A large crowd had gathered to see Gavner off. Usually, only someone's closest friends or colleagues attended a funeral. Vampires were different from humans — they didn't believe in showing up in large numbers to pay their condolences. But Gavner had been popular and had died to save others, so the cave was full. Even Paris Skyle and Arrow were present. Mika would have been there too, except someone had to stay behind to guard the Hall of Princes.

There was no such thing as a vampire priest. Though vampires had their own gods and beliefs, they had no organized religion. Paris, as the oldest vampire in the chamber, led the brief, simple ceremonies. "His name was Gavner Purl," he chanted, and everyone repeated the Prince's words. "He died with honor." Again we followed. "May his spirit find Paradise," he finished, and once we'd echoed his sentiments, the twigs and leaves beneath Gavner were lit by two Guardians, who made peculiar signs over his body, then moved back out of the way.

It didn't take the flames long to consume the General. The Guardians knew their business and had arranged things so the fire grew quickly and made short work of Gavner. I'd never been to a cremation before. To my surprise, I found it wasn't as upsetting as I'd thought it would be. There was something strangely comforting in watching the flames engulf Gavner, the smoke rising and slipping through the cracks in the ceiling, almost as if it were Gavner's spirit departing.

I was glad that I'd come, though I was grateful that we were ushered out of the Hall when it was time to extract Gavner's bones from the ashes and grind them to dust in the bowls that surrounded the pit. I don't think I could have stood by and watched the Guardians doing that.

Three more vampires were going to be cremated before it was Arra Sails's turn. While Mr. Crepsley, Harkat, and I waited outside during the ceremonies, Seba Nile and Vanez Blane appeared, the limping quartermaster leading the blind games master. The pair greeted us and stopped to chat. They apologized for missing Gavner's cremation, but Vanez had been undergoing treatment and couldn't leave until the dressing on his bad eye had been changed.

"How is the eye?" Mr. Crepsley asked.

"Ruined," Vanez said cheerfully, as though it was no big thing. "I'm blind as a bat now."

"I thought, since you were having it treated…»

"The treatment will stop infection from setting in and spreading to my brain," Vanez explained.

"You don't sound too upset," I noted, staring at the large patch over his right eye, thinking how awful it must be to lose one's sight.