Shan, Darren - Cirque Du Freak 04 - Vampire Mountain

There weren't many vampires in the quiet, smoky Hall — ourselves, a few more who had recently arrived, and a couple of green-uniformed guards. A vampire with long hair, wearing no shirt, came over to us with two round barrels. One of the barrels was packed to the top with loaves of hard bread, the other was half full of gristly pieces of both raw and cooked meat.

We took as much as we wanted to eat and set it down on the table (there were no plates), using our ringers and teeth to break off chunks. The vampire returned with three large jugs, filled with human blood, wine, and water. I asked for a mug, but Gavner told me you had to drink right from the jug. It was difficult — I soaked my chin and chest with water the first time I tried — but it was more fun than drinking out of a cup.

The bread was stale, but the vampire brought bowls of hot broth (the bowls were carved out of the skulls of various beasts), and the bread was fine if you tore a piece off and dipped it in the thick, dark broth for a few seconds. "This is great," I said, munching away at my third slice.

"The best," Gavner agreed. He was already on his fifth.

"How come you're not having any broth?" I asked Mr. Crepsley, who was eating his bread plain.

"Bat broth does not agree with me," he replied.

My hand froze on its way to my mouth. The soaked piece of bread I'd been holding fell to the table. "Batbroth? "I yelped.

"Of course," Gavner said. "What did you think it was made of?"

I stared down into the dark liquid of the bowl. The light was bad in the cavern, but now that I focused, I spotted a thin, leathery wing sticking out of the broth. "I think I'm gonna be sick!" I moaned.

"Don't be stupid." Gavner chortled. "You loved it when you didn't know what it was. Just get it down you and pretend it's nice, fresh chicken soup — you'll eat a lot worse than bat broth before your stay in Vampire Mountain's over!"

I pushed the bowl away. "Actually, I feel pretty full," I muttered. "I'll leave it for now." I looked at Harkat, who was mopping up the last of his broth with a thick slice of bread. "You don't mind eating bats?" I asked.

Harkat shrugged. "I have no taste … buds. Food is … all the same … to me."

"You can't tasteanything?" I asked.

"Bat … dog … mud — no difference. I have no … sense of smell … either. That's why … no nose."

"That's something I meant to ask about," Gavner said. "If you're not able to smell without a nose, how can you hear without ears?"

"I have … ears," Harkat said. "They're under … skin." He pointed to two spots on either side of his round, green eyes. (He'd left his hood down.)

Gavner leaned over the table to examine Harkat's ears. "I see them!" he exclaimed, and we all leaned over to gawk. Harkat didn't mind — he liked the attention. His ears looked like dry dates, barely visible beneath the gray skin.

"You can hear in spite of the skin stretched over them?" Gavner asked.

"Quite well," Harkat replied. "Not as … good as vampires. But better … than humans."

"How come you've got ears but no nose?" I asked.

"Mr. Tiny … didn't give me … nose. Never asked … why not. Maybe because … of air. Would need … another mask … for nose.

It was strange to think that Harkat couldn't smell the musky air of the Hall or taste the bat broth. No wonder the Little People never complained when I brought them rotting, stinking animals that had been dead for ages!

I was about to ask Harkat more about his limited senses when an ancient-looking vampire dressed in red sat down opposite Mr. Crepsley and smiled. "I was expecting you weeks ago," he said. "What took you so long?"

"Seba!" Mr. Crepsley roared, and lunged across the table to clasp the older vampire's shoulders. I was surprised — I'd never seen him behave so warmly toward another person. He was beaming when he let the vampire go. "It has been a long time, old friend."

"Too long," the older vampire agreed. "I have often searched for you mentally, in the hope that you were near. When I sensed you coming, I hardly dared believe it."

The older vampire ran an eye over Harkat and me. He was wrinkled and shrunken with age, but the light of a younger man burned brightly in his eyes. "Are you going to introduce me to your friends, Larten?" he asked.

"Of course," Mr. Crepsley said. "You know Gavner Purl."

"Gavner." The vampire nodded.

"Seba," Gavner replied.

"This is Harkat Mulds," Mr. Crepsley said.

"A Little Person," Seba noted. "I have not seen one of those since Mr. Tiny visited us when I was a boy. Greetings, Harkat Mulds."

"Hello," Harkat replied.

Seba blinked slowly. "Hetalks? "

"Wait until you hear what he has to say," Mr. Crepsley said somberly. Then, turning to me, he said, "And this is Darren Shan — my assistant."

"Greetings, Darren Shan." Seba smiled at me. He looked at Mr. Crepsley strangely. "You, Larten — with an assistant?"

"I know." Mr. Crepsley coughed. "I always said I would never take one."

"And so young," Seba murmured. "The Princes will not approve."