Darren Shan - The Vampire Prince

THE SAGA OF DARREN SHAN

BOOK 6

THE SAGA OF DARREN SHAN

BOOK 6

If your trip to Vampire Mountain leaves you

bloodthirsty for more, visit Shanville

– home to Darren Shan –

at www.darrenshan.com

For:

Martha & Bill – who fed a hungry half-vampire

OBEs (Order of the Bloody Entrails) to:

Katherine “kill-crazy” Tyacke

Stella “stabber” Paskins

Editors extraordinaire:

Gillie Russell & Zoë Clarke

Agent provocateur:

Christopher Little

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

Chapter Twenty-Two

Other Books in the Series The Saga of Darren Shan

Copyright

About the Publisher

BE CAREFUL who you trust. Even a supposedly close friend might be capable of betraying you. I found that out the hard way.

My name’s Darren Shan. I’m a half-vampire. I was blooded when I was very young, and for eight years I toured the world with the Cirque Du Freak — a travelling circus of magically gifted performers. Then my mentor – Larten Crepsley – said I had to be presented to the Vampire Princes.

Most of the Princes and Vampire Generals gathered in the remote Vampire Mountain once every twelve years, for the Council of Vampires. After a long, tiring trek to the mountain with Mr Crepsley, Harkat Mulds (a Little Person who’d been brought back from the dead by a powerful man called Mr Tiny), Gavner Purl (a General) and four wolves (including a male I called Streak and a cub I nicknamed Rudi), I faced the Princes, who said I had to prove myself worthy of joining the ranks of the undead. They set me a series of harsh tests known as the Trials of Initiation. If I passed all five tests, I’d be accepted as one of them. If I failed, I’d be killed.

I passed the first three Trials, but the fourth ended disastrously — I fell foul of a wild boar and would have been gouged to death if not for Harkat, who leapt into the pit and killed the boar. The problem was, his intervention broke all the rules. While the vampires debated my fate, one sneaked into my cell and led me away to safety. He was a blond, slender, peaceful, highly intelligent vampire called Kurda Smahlt, and he was shortly due to become a Prince. I believed he was my friend.

While we were escaping, Gavner caught up with us and tried talking me into going back to face the verdict of the Princes. Kurda persuaded him to let me go. But, as we were closing in on freedom, we ran into a bunch of vampaneze – purple-skinned adversaries of the vampires, who kill humans when they drink from them – hiding in a cave.

That’s when Kurda showed his true colours. He stabbed and killed Gavner, and I realized he was in league with the vampaneze. He tried taking me alive, but I ran and fell into a mountain stream. Kurda would have saved me, but I ignored his helping hand and surrendered myself to the vicious flow of the stream, which swiftly swept me away underground, into the belly of the mountain and certain death…

DARKNESS — COLD — churning water — roaring, like a thousand lions — spinning around and around — bashing into rocks — arms wrapped around my face to protect it — tucking up legs to make myself smaller, less of a target.

Wash up against a mass of roots — grab hold — slippery — the wet roots feel like dead fingers clutching at me — a gap between the water and the roof of the tunnel — I draw quick gasps of breath — current takes hold again — try fighting it — roots break off in my hands — swept away.

Tumbling over and over — hit my head hard on a rock — see stars — almost black out — struggle to keep head up — spit water out of my mouth, but more gushes in — feels like I’m swallowing half the stream.

The current drags me against a wall — sharp rocks cut deeply into my thighs and hips — freezing cold water numbs the pain — stops the flow of blood — a sudden drop — plummet into a deep pool — down, down, down — held under by force of the falling water — panicking — can’t find my way up — drowning — if I don’t break free soon, I’ll…

My feet strike a wall and propel me forward — drift slowly up and away from the pool — flow is gentle here — lots of space between water and top of tunnel — able to bob along and breathe — air’s cold, and it stings my lungs, but I gulp it down thankfully.

The stream opens out into what sounds like a large cave. Roars from the opposite end: the water must drop sharply again there. I let myself drift to one side before facing the drop. I need to rest and fill my lungs with air. As I tread water near the wall in the dark, something clutches at my bald head. It feels like twigs. I grab at them to steady myself, then realize they’re not twigs — they’re bones!

Too exhausted to be scared, I grasp the bones as though they were part of a lifebuoy. Taking long, deep breaths, I explore the bones with my fingers. They connect to a wrist, an arm, a body and head: a full skeleton. This stream was used to dispose of dead vampires in the past. This one must have washed up here and rotted away over the decades. I search blindly for other skeletons but find none. I wonder who the vampire was, when he lived, how long he’s been here. It must be horrible, trapped in a cave like this, no proper burial, no final resting place.

I give the skeleton a shake, hoping to free it. The cave erupts with high-pitched screeches and flapping sounds. Wings! Dozens or hundreds of pairs of wings! Something crashes into my face and catches on my left ear. It scratches and nips. I yelp, tear it loose and slap it away.

I can’t see anything, but I sense a flurry of objects flying over and around me. Another collides with me. This time I hold on and feel around it — a bat! The cave’s full of bats. They must nest here, in the roof. The sound of me shaking the skeleton disturbed them, and they’ve taken flight.

I don’t panic. They won’t attack me. They’re just frightened and will settle down soon. I release the one I’ve caught and let it join the rush above me. The noise dies down after a few minutes and the bats return to their perches. Silence.

I wonder how they get in and out of the cave. There must be a crack in the roof. For a few seconds I dream about finding it and climbing to safety, but my numb fingers and toes quickly put an end to thoughts of that nature. I couldn’t climb, even if I could find the crack and it was big enough for me to fit through.

I start thinking about the skeleton again. I don’t want to leave it here. I tug at it, careful this time not to create a racket. It doesn’t budge at first — it’s wedged firm. I get a stronger grip and pull again. It comes loose, all at once, and falls on top of me, driving me under. Water gushes down my throat. Now I panic! The skeleton heavy on top of me, weighing me down. I’m going to drown! I’m going to drown! I’m going to–