Darren Shan - The Saga of Larten Crepsley 1-4

“What if I can’t?” Larten croaked. “What if I enjoyed killing him?”

“Did you?” Seba asked.

Larten shook his head crookedly, then sighed and nodded. “I felt powerful. He was bigger than me, and he’d hurt me – all of us – so much. Part of me wanted to kill him. After I’d stabbed him, I leant forward to poke out his eyes. I wanted to torture him, even though he was dead.”

“But you restrained yourself?” Seba pressed.

“Aye. But it was hard.”

Seba pursed his lips, impressed by the boy’s honesty. “Vampires have a way of testing people,” he said. “We do it before we blood humans. Great power must only be given to those responsible enough to deal with it. If we blooded the weak or craven, they would wreak havoc on mankind.

“We can taste evil in a person’s blood,” Seba went on. “It has a sweet tang. It should be vile and bitter, but evil often comes wrapped in sweetness. The test is not foolproof. We sometimes make mistakes. But in most cases it is accurate. I can test you if you wish.”

Larten wasn’t sure he wanted to be tested. If the result went against him…

“I will do you no harm,” Seba promised. “If your blood is not to my liking, I will go my own way tomorrow and leave you be. Vampires do not judge humans or meddle in their affairs.”

Larten gulped, then nodded hesitantly. He was afraid of what the vampire might reveal, but he’d rather know the truth about himself than live with uncertainty.

“This will hurt slightly,” Seba said, taking the boy’s arm. Using one of his sharp nails, he made a small cut just above Larten’s elbow. As Larten winced, Seba put his mouth over the cut and sucked. For a worried second Larten thought he’d been tricked, that the vampire planned to drain him dry. But then Seba released him and swirled the blood around his mouth.

“Well?” Larten asked as Seba swallowed and narrowed his eyes.

“An interesting vintage,” Seba joked, but Larten knew nothing about wine so he only stared at the vampire blankly. Seba licked his lips. “You have mixed blood.”

Larten grew cold. “Does that mean I’m evil?”

“No,” Seba said. “There is an underlying sweetness, but it is not overwhelming. I would say you are strong-willed, easily enraged, perhaps bent towards violence more than most, prepared to do bad things if provoked. Of course we already knew that, given how you acted today. But I do not think the evil strain is dominant. You will need to tread cautiously through life and guard your emotions carefully if you wish to master them. But in my opinion, you can choose good.”

Larten was relieved but troubled. After today’s violent explosion, he wasn’t sure he could make those good choices. He recalled the way he had licked his lips, the disappointment that the dark part of him had felt when he stopped short of stabbing out Traz’s eyes.

“I will leave you now,” Seba said, rising.

“Where are you going?” Larten asked. He felt panic at the thought of being left alone in the crypt. It wasn’t fear of the dead, but fear that Seba might not return.

“I must hunt,” Seba said.

“For blood?”

“No. I drank last night. A vampire only needs to drink a couple of times a week. Less, in fact, but we prefer to drink small amounts often, rather than large amounts rarely. We can control our urges more easily that way. I go to find food now — like all creatures, we need to eat.”

“You’ll come back?” Larten asked, trying not to sound desperate.

“This is my room for the night,” Seba said evenly. “If I did not care to share it with you, I would ask you to leave. Only a fool puts himself out of his own home.”

Larten smiled and shivered. “Could you start a fire before you go?”

“No.” Seba squatted by the boy. “We light fires on occasion, but we do not rely on them. A vampire must be willing to endure discomfort. If you wish to be my assistant, you will need to accept that. You can take off your damp clothes, but ask no more of me than that.”

“Wait a minute,” Larten snapped. “Who said anything about me being your assistant? I don’t want to become a vampire.”

“Really?” Seba purred. “Then answer me this — where else will you go? Who will accept one of the damned other than a family of the cursed? Where will a creature of darkness hide if not in the shadows of the night?”

“Damned?” Larten echoed faintly. “I thought you said I wasn’t…”

“I use the term poetically,” Seba said. “In human terms, any killer is one of the damned. But vampires learnt long ago that we could find nobility in the depths of damnation.”

Seba rose smoothly and surveyed the boy from a height. “I will not force you. It does not work that way. Each person must choose freely, although not all of those who yearn to join are accepted.

“If you wish to chance the waters of vampirism, it will be many years before you can be blooded. First you will serve as my human assistant, travel with me, hunt for me, guard me by day, learn from me by night. In time, if you serve well, we can talk about blooding. We do not take anyone under our wing unless both parties are entirely sure that this is what the apprentice wants from life.

“But you must make your first decision tonight,” Seba concluded. “If you wish to learn more about our ways, stay. If you think your path lies elsewhere, move on. I will be gone some hours. If you are here when I return, so be it.”

He turned to leave, then paused and without looking back said, “You do not have to be alone. The world never inflicts loneliness upon us. That is something we choose or reject by ourselves.”

With that, the ancient vampire slipped away.

Larten stared at the doorway long after Seba had departed, thinking of all he had been told. The day had seemed to stretch on forever and he was almost too tired to focus. But he forced himself to concentrate. He could tell that this was a moment of destiny. If he made the wrong choice, he would regret it, probably sooner rather than later.

Seba had said that Larten would have years in which to choose. He wouldn’t be blooded until both of them were sure that this was the right thing for him. But Larten knew in his heart that the choice he made tonight would be binding. If he turned his back on humanity now, it would be forever.

Larten considered his future, thinking with wonder of all the things he would see and learn as a vampire’s assistant, thinking with fear of all that he would leave behind. At first he worried about his other options. If he rejected the vampire, where would he go? How would he survive?

But as he thought on it more, he realised that didn’t matter. This was all about choosing or not choosing one particular path. He needed to decide if this was the way for him. If it wasn’t, he should leave the crypt immediately. Better not to start down a wrong path at all than head down it in the hope of making a detour when something better came along.

Larten wrestled with the problem some more, before ultimately deciding that he should go with what his heart was telling him. When he was satisfied with his choice, Larten shrugged off his clothes and sat in the darkness. His teeth chattered and he shivered wildly, but after a few minutes he figured that wasn’t the way a vampire’s assistant should behave. Straightening his back, he fought off the shakes and goosebumps and sat to attention, steady and calm, patiently waiting for Seba – his master – to return.

“Ladies and gentlemen — observe!”

The Wildcat sensed danger, looked around suspiciously and hissed. When there was no response, it lowered its head and tore into the remains of the rat on which it had been feasting. The Wildcat was a loner. Unlike ordinary cats, its kind had nothing to do with humans, preferring the open hunt of the countryside to the wretched scavenge of a town or village.