to remind me.”
“What happened?” I asked, delighted by the vampire’s discomfort.
“Tell him, Larten,” Seba said, and Mr Crepsley obeyed sullenly, like a child.
“He got to the wine first,” he muttered. “Emptied the vat and replaced the wine with vinegar. I had swallowed half a bottle before I realized. I spent the rest of the night retching.”
“No!” Gavner burst out laughing.
“I was young,” Mr Crepsley growled. “I did not know better.”
“But I taught you, Larten, did I not?” Seba remarked.
“Yes,” Mr Crepsley smiled. “Seba was my tutor. I learned most of what I know at his hands.”
The three vampires got to talking about old times and I sat listening. Most of what they said sailed clean over my head – names of people and places which meant nothing to me – and after a while I sat back and gazed around the cavern, studying the flickering lights of the fires and the shapes the smoke made in the air. I only realized I was dozing off when Mr Crepsley shook me gently and my eyes snapped open.
“The boy is tired,” Seba noted.
“He has never made the journey before,” Mr Crepsley said. “He is not accustomed to such hardship.”
“Come,” Seba said, standing. “I will find rooms for you. He is not the only one who needs to rest. We will talk more tomorrow.”
As the quartermaster of Vampire Mountain, Seba was in charge of the stores and living quarters. It was his job to make sure there was enough food and drink and blood for everyone, and that every vampire had a place to sleep. There were other vampires working for him, but he was the main man. Aside from the Princes, Seba was the most respected vampire in the mountain.
Seba bid me walk beside him as we made our way from the Hall of Osca Velm to our sleeping quarters. He pointed out various Halls as we passed, and told me their names – most of which I couldn’t pronounce, never mind remember – and what they were used for.
“It will take a while to adjust,” he said, noting my dazed gaze. “For the first few nights you may feel lost. But in time you will grow accustomed to the place.”
The network of tunnels connecting the Halls to the sleeping quarters were cold and damp, despite the torches, but the tiny rooms – niches carved out of the rocks – were bright and warm, each lit by a powerful torch. Seba asked if we wanted one big room between us, or if we’d prefer separate quarters.
“Separate,” Mr Crepsley immediately replied. “I had enough of Gavner’s snoring on the trail.”
“Charming!” Gavner huffed.
“Harkat and me don’t mind doubling up, do we?” I said, not liking the idea of being left on my own in such a strange place.
“That’s fine … by me,” Harkat agreed.
All the rooms boasted coffins instead of beds, but when Seba saw my gloomy face, he laughed and said I could have a hammock if I preferred. “I will send one of my staff to you tomorrow,” he promised. “Tell him what you need and he will get it – I look after my guests!”
“Thank you,” I said, glad that I wouldn’t have to sleep in the coffin every day.
Seba started to leave. “Wait,” Mr Crepsley called him back. “I have something to show you.”
“Oh?” Seba smiled.
“Darren,” Mr Crepsley said, “fetch Madam Octa.”
When Seba Nile saw the spider, his breath caught in his throat and he gazed at it as though mesmerized. “Oh, Larten,” he sighed, “what a beauty!” He took the cage from me – holding it tenderly – and opened the door.
“Stop!” I hissed. “Don’t let her out – she’s poisonous!”
Seba only smiled and reached into the cage. “I have never met a spider I have not been able to charm,” he said.
“But –” I began.
“It is all right, Darren,” Mr Crepsley said. “Seba knows what he is doing.”
The old vampire coaxed the spider on to his fingers and lifted her out of the cage. She squatted comfortably in the palm of his hand. Seba bent his face over her and whistled softly. The spider’s legs twitched, and from her intent look, I knew he must be communicating mentally with her.
Seba stopped whistling and Madam Octa crawled up his arm. Upon reaching his shoulder, she nestled up to his chin and relaxed. I couldn’t believe it! I’d always had to whistle continuously – with a flute, not my lips – and concentrate fiercely to keep her from biting me, but with Seba she was completely docile.
“She is marvellous,” Seba said, stroking her. “You must tell me more about her when you have a chance. I thought I knew of all the spiders in existence, but this one is new to me.”
“I thought you would like her,” Mr Crepsley beamed. “That is why I brought her. I wish to make you a present of her.”
“You would part with such a wonderful spider?” Seba asked.
“For you, old friend – anything.”
Seba smiled at Mr Crepsley, then looked at Madam Octa. Sighing regretfully, he shook his head. “I must refuse,” he said. “I am old, and not as sprightly as I used to be. I am kept busy trying to keep up with jobs I once zipped through. I do not have the time to care for such an exotic pet.”
“Are you sure?” Mr Crepsley asked, disappointed.
“I would love to take her but I cannot.” He placed Madam Octa back in her cage and handed it to me. “Only the young have the energy to tend to the needs of spiders of such calibre. Look after her, Darren – she is beautiful and rare.”
“I’ll keep my eye on her,” I promised. I once thought the spider was beautiful too, until she bit my best friend and led to me becoming a half-vampire.
“Now,” Seba said, “I must go. You are not the only new arrivals. Until we meet again – fare well.”
There were no doors on the tiny rooms. Mr Crepsley and Gavner bid us goodnight, before heading for their coffins. Harkat and me stepped into our room and studied our two caskets.
“I don’t think you’ll fit in that,” I said.
“That is … OK. I can sleep … on floor.”
“In that case, see you in the morning.” I glanced around the cave. “Or will it be night? Impossible to tell in here.”
I didn’t like getting into the coffin but took comfort in the fact that it was for one time only. Lying back, I left the lid open and stared up at the rocky grey ceiling. I thought that with the excitement of having arrived at Vampire Mountain, it’d take ages to fall asleep, but within minutes I’d dropped off and slept as soundly as I would have in my hammock back at the Cirque Du Freak.
HARKAT WAS standing by his coffin when I awoke, his green eyes wide open. I stretched and said good morning. There was a brief pause, then he shook his head and looked at me. “Good morning,” he replied.
“Been awake long?” I asked.
“Just woke … now. When you … spoke to me. Fell asleep … standing up.”
I frowned. “But your eyes were open.”
He nodded. “Always open. No lids … or lashes. Can’t shut them.”
The more I learned about Harkat, the stranger he got! “Does