Darren Shan: Vampire Mountain

"Agreed," Mr. Crepsley replied, and after one last sweep of the cave, we retreated, our senses alert to even the slightest hint of an attack.

We made our base for the night in the middle of a ring of thick trees, and lit a rare fire — all of us felt chilled to the bone after our experience in the cave. While we were discussing the dead vampire and whether we should search the surrounding area for his body, the Little People returned, carrying a young deer they'd captured. They stared suspiciously at Gavner, who stared just as suspiciously back.

"What are they doing with you?" he hissed.

"Mr. Tiny insisted I bring them," Mr. Crepsley said, then raised a quieting hand as Gavner swiveled to ask more questions. "Later," he promised. "Let us eat first and dwell upon the death of our comrade."

The trees sheltered us from the rising sun, so we sat up long after dawn, discussing the dead vampire. Since there wasn't anything we could do about him — the vampires decided against a search, on the grounds that it would slow us down — talk soon turned to other matters. Gavner asked about the Little People again, and Mr. Crepsley told him how Mr. Tiny had appeared and sent them with us. Then he asked Gavner why he'd been trailing us.

"I knew you'd be presenting Darren to the Princes," Gavner said, "so I located your mental pattern and traced you through it." (Vampires are able to bond mentally with each other.) "I had to cut up from a hundred miles south, but I hate traveling alone — it's boring having no one to chat with."

As we talked, I noticed a couple of toes were missing from Gavner's left foot and asked about them. "Frostbite," he answered cheerfully, wriggling the three remaining toes. "I broke my leg coming here a couple of Councils back. Had to crawl for five nights to reach a way station. It was only by the luck of the vampires that I didn't lose more than a few toes."

The vampires talked a lot about the past, old friends and previous Councils. I thought they'd mention Murlough — Gavner had alerted Mr. Crepsley to the insane vampaneze's whereabouts — but they didn't, not even in passing.

"How have you been?" Gavner asked me.

"Fine," I said.

"Life with this sour buzzard hasn't got you down?"

"I've coped so far." I smiled.

"Any intentions of topping up?" he asked.

"Excuse me?"

He raised his fingers so I could see the ten scars on the tips, the usual sign of a vampire. "Do you plan to become a full vampire?"

"No," I said quickly, then looked sideways at Mr. Crepsley. "I don't have any such plans, do I?" I asked suspiciously.

"No." Mr. Crepsley smiled. "Not until you have come of human age. If we made a full vampire of you now, it would be sixty or seventy years before you were fully grown."

"I bet it's horrible aging so slowly when you're a kid," Gavner noted.

"It is," I sighed.

"Things will improve with time," Mr. Crepsley said.

"Sure," I said sarcastically, "when I'm all grown up — thirty years from now!" I got up and shook my head, disgusted. I got down a lot when I thought about the decades I'd have to spend on the road to maturity.

"Where are you going?" Mr. Crepsley asked as I headed toward the trees.

"To the stream," I said, "to fill our canteens."

"Maybe one of us should go with you," Gavner said.

"Darren is not a child," Mr. Crepsley answered before I could. "He will be fine."

I hid a grin — I liked the rare occasions when the vampire gave me a compliment — and continued down to the stream. The chilly water was fast-flowing and gurgled loudly as I filled the canteens, splashing around the rims and my fingers. If I had been human I might have gotten frostbite, but vampires are a lot sturdier.

As I was corking the second canteen, a little cloud of steamy breath drifted across from the other side of the stream. I glanced up, surprised that a wild animal had ventured this close, and found myself staring into the flaming eyes of a fierce, hungry-looking, sharp-fanged wolf.

THE WOLF STUDIED ME SILENTLY, its nose crinkling over its jagged canines as it sniffed my scent. I gently laid my canteen down, not sure what to do. If I called for help, the wolf might panic and flee — then again, it might attack. If I stayed like I was, it might lose interest and slink away — or it might take it as a sign of weakness and move in for the kill.

I was desperately trying to decide when the wolf tensed its hind legs, lowered its head, and pounced, crossing the stream with one giant bound. It crashed into my chest, knocking me to the ground. I tried scrambling away but the wolf had perched on top of me and was too heavy to throw off. My hands searched frantically for a rock or stick, something to beat the animal with, but there was nothing to grab except snow.

The wolf was a terrifying sight up close, with its dark gray face and slanting yellow eyes, its black muzzle and bared white teeth, some two or three inches long. Its tongue lolled out the side of its mouth and it was panting slowly. Its breath stank of blood and raw animal flesh.

I didn't know anything about wolves — except that vampires couldn't drink from them — so I didn't know how to react: Attack its face or go for its body? Lie still and hope it went away, or shout and maybe scare it off? While my brain was spinning, the wolf lowered its head, extended its long wet tongue, and… licked me!

I was so stunned, I just lay there, staring up at the jaws of the fearsome animal. The wolf licked me again, then got off, faced the stream, went down on its paws, and lapped at the water. I lay where I was a few moments more, then pulled myself up and sat watching it drink, noting that it was a male.

When the wolf had drunk enough, he stood, lifted his head, and howled. From the trees on the opposite side of the stream, three more wolves emerged and crept down to the bank, where they drank. Two were females and one was a young cub, darker and smaller than the others.

The male watched the others drinking, then sat beside me. He snuggled up to me like a dog, and, before I knew what I was doing, I'd reached around and was tickling him behind his ear. The wolf whined happily and cocked his head so I could scratch behind the other ear.

One of the she-wolves finished drinking and jumped the stream. She sniffed my feet, then sat on the other side of me and offered her head to be scratched. The male growled at her jealousy but she took no notice.

It wasn't long before the other two joined the couple on my side of the stream. The female was shier than her friends and hovered a couple of feet away. The cub wasn't scared and crawled over my legs and belly, sniffing like a hound dog. He cocked a leg to mark my left thigh, but before he could, the male wolf snapped at him and sent him tumbling. He barked angrily, then slunk back and climbed over me again. This time he didn't try to mark his territory — thankfully!

I sat there for a long time playing with the cub and tickling the bigger pair of wolves. The male rolled over onto his back, so that I could rub his belly. His hair was lighter underneath, except for a long streak of black hair that ran partway up his middle. «Streak" seemed like a good name for a wolf, so that's what I called him.

I wanted to see if they knew any tricks, so I found a stick and threw it. "Fetch, Streak, fetch!" I shouted, but he didn't budge. I tried getting him to sit at attention. "Sit, Streak!" I ordered. He stared at me. "Sit — like this." I squatted on my butt. Streak moved back a little, as though he thought I might be crazy. The cub was really playful and jumped on me. I laughed and stopped trying to teach them tricks.

After that I headed back to camp to tell the vampires about my new friends. The wolves followed, although only Streak walked by my side — the others trailed behind.