Larten shook his head. “You first. What are you doing here?”
“I often stay in places like this,” Seba said.
“You sleep in crypts?” Larten asked.
“Usually.”
“Why?”
“Because I am a vampire.”
Larten frowned. “What’s a vampire?”
Seba was surprised. “You have not heard the tales? I thought, in this part of the world… Have you perhaps heard of the living dead? The walkers of the night?”
“Do you mean ghosts?”
“No. Vampires are…” Seba considered his words.
“Hold on,” Larten said, a memory sparking somewhere inside his head. “You’re not a bloodsucker, are you?”
“Now you have it,” Seba beamed.
“I remember Vur telling me…” What? Larten only had a dim recollection. Vur had told lots of tales. It was something about creatures who drank blood and lived forever.
“There are many legends about vampires,” Seba said. “Most are unreliable. We do drink blood to survive, but we are not killers. We do no harm to those from whom we feed.”
“A monster who doesn’t kill?” Larten was sceptical.
“Not monsters,” Seba corrected him. “Just people with extraordinary powers. Or weaknesses, depending on how one looks at it.”
Seba uncrossed his legs and stretched. “I cannot recall my exact age, but I am more than five hundred years old.”
Larten grinned — he thought it was a joke. Then he saw Seba’s expression and his smile faded.
“All vampires start life as humans,” Seba continued. “We turn from the path of humanity when another vampire bloods us.” He held up his hands and Larten saw small scars at the tip of each finger. “My master cut my fingertips, then his own, and pumped his blood into me. That is how I became a vampire.”
“Why did he do it?” Larten asked.
“I wanted him to.” Seba explained how vampires aged at one-tenth the human rate, meaning they could live for several hundred years. He told Larten of their great strength and speed, the codes of honour by which they lived. He explained about the hardships, the way humans feared and hunted them, how sunlight killed them after a few hours, their inability to have children.
Larten listened, entranced. Like most of his friends, he believed fully in a world of ghosts and magic, demons and witches. But this was the first time he had been exposed to the reality of that world, and it was far different than he’d imagined.
Seba told Larten some of the many myths about vampires. Crosses were meant to frighten them. Holy water could burn them. You had to drive a stake through a vampire’s heart, then cut off his head and bury him at the centre of a crossroads to stop him rising again. They could change shape and turn into bats or rats.
“All rot!” Seba snorted. “The hysterical rantings of superstitious fools.”
Larten had heard some of the tales before, but in relation to other monsters. He asked Seba if they were also real — demons, witches and the rest.
“Ghosts, yes,” Seba said seriously. “And witches. As for demons and the like… Well, in five hundred years, I have not seen any.”
He told Larten how he had been blooded as a child, and spoke of some of the countries he’d visited, and a few of the famous people he’d met. Larten didn’t recognise most of the names, but he didn’t admit that, not wanting to appear ignorant.
Finally, when Seba felt the boy had learnt enough about the world of vampires for one night, he reversed the question. “And you?” he asked gently. “Why are you here, so far from home and other humans?”
Larten’s first instinct was to make up a story – he didn’t want to confess to his terrible crime – but Seba had been honest with him and Larten didn’t want to lie in return.
“I killed a man,” Larten said hollowly, then told Seba the whole sorry tale. He cried while telling it. This was the first chance he’d had to think about what he’d lost, not just his best friend, but his parents, his brothers and sisters, his entire way of life. But he didn’t let the tears overwhelm him. He kept talking, even when it hurt to speak.
Seba nodded slowly when Larten had finished. “From what you say, that wretch of a man deserved to be killed. Aye, and long before you struck the fatal blow. But murder always hurts. It is right that we grieve when we kill. If we did not feel pain, we would kill more freely, and what would the world be like then?”
“I’m evil,” Larten moaned. “I’m going to hell when I die, or somewhere worse.”
“A place worse than hell?” Seba smiled grimly. “That would be a bad place indeed! But I do not think your soul is damned.”
“I stabbed Traz to death,” Larten said, wiping tears from his cheeks.
“In the heat of the moment,” Seba reminded him. “After he had slain your innocent friend. That is not the act of a vicious beast.”
“You don’t think it was wrong?” Larten whispered.
“Of course it was wrong,” Seba said. “You took a life that was not yours to take and that should haunt you far into the future. But virtually all people do wrong at some point. The truly evil are those who willingly follow the path of violence when they find themselves on it. You have a choice now. You can embrace the darkness within you and become a monster. Or you can reject it and try to lead a good life from this night on.”
“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