Darren Shan - Vampire Prince

"Wolves," the vampaneze snarled, spitting on the ground. "Curse their eyes!"

"Leave them be," a second vampaneze said behind him. "They won't interfere with us if we keep out of their way. They're just scavenging for food."

"If they keep yapping, they could bring the vampires down on us," the first vampaneze murmured ominously, and I saw the blade of a sharp knife glint by his side.

"They're only barking because of us," his companion said, dragging him away. "They'll stop once we…»

Their voices faded and I didn't hear them after that.

When I was sure the way was clear, I looked over to where the Guardian of the Blood was hiding, to thank him for his unexpected help — but he wasn't there. He must have slipped away while I wasn't looking. I shook my head with confusion. I'd thought the Guardians were in league with the vampaneze, since one of them had ignored my cries for help when I was fleeing from Kurda and his allies, and left me to them. Why help me now when they'd abandoned me then?

Thinking it over, I climbed down and rejoined the wolves. They were still sniffing the air guardedly but had stopped growling. After a while, we followed Magda out of the cave as she resumed her way and led us farther up the mountain. She slinked ahead even slower than before, though I didn't know if this was because of exhaustion or the threat of the vampaneze.

A few hours later, we reached the lower Halls at the top of the mountain and skirted around them. We passed disturbingly close to the storerooms at one point. I could hear vampires at work behind the walls, getting ready for the large feast that would follow Kurda's investiture. I held my breath and listened for a few minutes, but their words were muffled, and I soon moved on, afraid one of them would discover us.

I kept expecting Magda to stop, but she led us higher and higher, farther up the mountain than I thought possible. I was beginning to think we must be almost at the very top when we came to a tunnel that cut upward sharply. Magda studied the tunnel, then turned and gazed at me — I could tell by the look in her eyes that she'd brought me as far as she could. As I dashed forward, eager to check where the tunnel led, Magda turned and limped away.

"Where are you going?" I called. The she-wolf paused and glanced back, tired resignation in her stare — she couldn't manage the climb. "Wait here and we'll collect you later," I told her. Magda snarled, pawed the ground, and ruffled her fur — and I got the sense that she was going away to die. "No," I said softly. "If you just lie down and rest, I'm sure —»

Magda interrupted with a short shake of her head. Staring into her sad eyes, I began to comprehend that this was what she wanted. She'd known when she started that the journey would prove too much for her. She'd chosen to make it all the same and die usefully, rather than struggle along after the pack for another season or two, dying slowly and miserably. She was prepared for death and welcomed it.

Crouching, I ran my hands over the tired she-wolf's head and gently rubbed the thin hairs on her ears. "Thank you," I said simply. Magda licked me, rubbed her nose against my left cheek, then hobbled away into darkness, to find a private spot where she could lie down and quietly leave this world behind.

I remained where I was awhile, thinking about death and how the wolf had accepted it so calmly, remembering how I'd run when it had been my time to face it. Then, shrugging off such dark thoughts, I entered the tunnel and climbed.

The wolves had a harder time on the final stretch than I did. Even though they were great climbers, the rock was steep, unsuited to sharp claws, and they kept slipping to the bottom. Finally, tired of hanging about, I slid down and let the wolves go ahead of me, using my head and shoulders to brace them when they lost their footing.

Several minutes later, we found ourselves on level ground, in a small, dark cave. The air here was musty, made worse by the strong stench of the hairy wolves. "You three wait here," I told them in a whisper, afraid their smell would carry to any nearby vampires. Shuffling forward, I came to a wall of thin, fragile rock. Dim light shone through several tiny holes and cracks. I pressed my eyes to the holes, but they were too small to see through. Inserting the nail of my right little finger into one of the larger cracks, I worked gently at the stone, which crumbled, widening the hole. Leaning forward, I was able to see through to the other side — and was astonished to find myself at the rear of the Hall of Princes!

Once I'd recovered from the shock — there was only supposed to be one way up to the Hall of Princes! — I began considering my next course of action. This had worked out far more neatly than I'd ever dared to dream, and it was now up to me to make the most of my incredible good fortune. My first instinct was to burst through the wall and scream for the Princes, but the guards of the Hall or one of the traitors might cut me down if I did, killing my message with me.

Retreating from the wall, I returned to the wolves and led them back down the steep tunnel, where there was more space and air. Once comfortable, I lay down, closed my eyes, and began thinking about how to make contact with the Princes — while at the same time avoiding the spears and swords of the vicious traitors and well-meaning guards!

Iwanted to speak to the Princes directly — but I couldn't just march up to the doors of the Hall and ask the guards to let me in! I could wait for one of the Princes to emerge and hail him, but they didn't leave the throne room very often. What if Kurda made his move before I could act? I thought about sneaking down to the doors and slipping in the next time they were open, but it was unlikely that I could avoid the attention of the guards. Besides, if Kurda was inside and saw me, he might kill me before I had a chance to speak.

That was my greatest fear — that I'd be killed before I warned the Princes of the peril they faced. With this in mind, I decided I had to contact somebody before approaching the Princes, so that if I died, my message wouldn't die with me.

But who to trust? Mr. Crepsley or Harkat were the ideal choices, but there was no way I could make it to their cells undetected. Arra Sails and Vanez Blane also dwelt too deep within the mountain to be easily reached.

That left Seba Nile, the ancient quartermaster of Vampire Mountain. His cell was close to the storerooms. It would be risky, but I thought I could get to him without being seen. But could I trust him? He and Kurda were close friends. He'd helped the traitor make maps of infrequently used tunnels, maps that the vampaneze might be using at this very minute to advance on the Hall of Princes. Was it possible that he was one of Kurda's allies?

Almost as soon as I raised the question, I knew it was ridiculous. Seba was an old-fashioned vampire, who believed in loyalty and the ways of the vampires above all else. And he'd been Mr. Crepsley's mentor. If I couldn't trust Seba, I couldn't trust anybody.

I rose to go in search of Seba, and the wolves rose with me. Crouching, I told them to stay. Streak shook his head, growling, but I was firm with him. "Stay!" I commanded. "Wait for me. If I don't come back, return to the pack. This isn't your fight. There's nothing you can do."

I wasn't sure if Streak understood all that, but he squatted on his haunches and remained with the other wolves, panting heavily as he watched me leave, his dark eyes fixed on me until I vanished around a bend.

Retracing the path by which we'd come, I climbed back down the mountain. It didn't take long to reach the storerooms. They were quiet when I arrived, but I entered cautiously, taking no chances, through the hole that Kurda had revealed to me during my escape.