Vampire Mountain

“Are my Little People near?” he asked. The Little People were short creatures who dressed in blue robes with hoods, never spoke, and ate anything that moved (including humans!). A handful of the mysterious beings almost always travelled with the Cirque Du Freak, and there were eight of them with us at that time.

“They’re probably in their tent,” I said. “I took them in some food an hour or so ago and I think they’re still eating.” One of my jobs was to hunt for the Little People. Evra used to do it with me, until he grew up and demanded less messy chores. Nowadays I was helped by a couple of young humans, children of the Cirque helpers.

“Excellent,” Mr Tiny beamed, and started away. “Oh,” he paused, “one last thing. Tell Larten not to leave until I’ve had a word with him.”

“I think we’re in a hurry,” I said. “We might not have time to–”

“Just tell him I want a word,” Mr Tiny interrupted. “I’m sure he’ll make time for me.” With that, he tipped his glasses at us, waved farewell and moved on. I shared a worried look with Evra, found some matches and stuck them in my bag, then hurried off to wake Mr Crepsley.

CHAPTER TWO

MR CREPSLEY was snappish when I woke him – he hated rising before the sun went down – but stopped complaining when I explained why I’d disturbed his sleep. “Mr Tiny,” he sighed, scratching the long scar which ran down the left side of his face. “I wonder what he wants?”

“I don’t know,” I answered, “but he said not to leave until he’d had a word with you.” I lowered my voice and whispered, “We could sneak away without being seen if we hurried. Twilight’s not far off. You could stand an hour or so of sunlight if we kept to the shadows, couldn’t you?”

“I could,” Mr Crepsley agreed, “were I given to fleeing like a dog with its tail between its legs. But I am not. I will face Desmond Tiny. Bring me my finest cloak — I like to look my best for visitors.” That was as close to a joke as the vampire was likely to come — he didn’t have much of a sense of humour.

An hour later, with the sun setting, we made our way to Mr Tall’s caravan, where Mr Tiny was regaling the owner of the Cirque Du Freak with tales of what he’d seen in a recent earthquake.

“Ah, Larten!” Mr Tiny boomed. “Prompt as ever.”

“Desmond,” Mr Crepsley replied stiffly.

“Have a seat,” Mr Tiny said.

“Thank you, but I will stand.” Nobody liked sitting when Mr Tiny was around – in case they needed to make a quick getaway.

“I hear you’re casting off for Vampire Mountain,” Mr Tiny said.

“We leave presently,” Mr Crepsley confirmed.

“This is the first Council you’ve been to in nearly fifty years, isn’t it?”

“You are well informed,” Mr Crepsley grunted.

“I keep an ear to the ground.”

There was a knock at the door, and Mr Tall admitted two of the Little People. One walked with a slight limp. He’d been with the Cirque Du Freak almost as long as me. I called him Lefty, though that was only a nickname — none of the Little People had real names.

“Ready, boys?” Mr Tiny asked. The Little People nodded. “Excellent!” He smiled at Mr Crepsley. “The path to Vampire Mountain is as hazardous as ever, isn’t it?”

“It is not easy,” Mr Crepsley agreed cagily.

“Dangerous for a young snip of a thing like Master Shan, wouldn’t you say?”

“Darren can look after himself,” Mr Crepsley said, and I grinned proudly.

“I’m sure he can,” Mr Tiny responded, “but it’s unusual for one so young to make the journey, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” Mr Crepsley said curtly.

“That’s why I’m sending these two along as guards.” Mr Tiny waved a hand at the Little People.

“Guards?” Mr Crepsley barked. “We do not need any. I have made the trip many times. I can look after Darren myself.”

“You can indeed,” Mr Tiny cooed, “but a little help never went astray, did it?”

“They would get in the way,” Mr Crepsley growled. “I do not want them.”

“My Little People? Get in the way?” Mr Tiny sounded shocked. “They exist only to serve. They’ll be like shepherds, watching over the two of you while you sleep.”

“Nevertheless,” Mr Crepsley insisted, “I do not want–”

“This is not an offer,” Mr Tiny interrupted. Though he spoke softly, the menace in his voice was unmistakable. “They’re going with you. End of story. They’ll hunt for themselves and see to their own sleeping arrangements. All you have to do is make sure you don’t ‘lose’ them in the snowy wastelands on the way.”

“And when we get there?” Mr Crepsley snapped. “Do you expect me to take them inside? That is not permitted. The Princes will not stand for it.”

“Yes they will,” Mr Tiny disagreed. “Don’t forget by whose hands the Hall of Princes was built. Paris Skyle and the rest know on which side their blood is buttered. They won’t object.”

Mr Crepsley was furious – practically shaking with rage – but the anger seeped out of him as he stared into Mr Tiny’s eyes and realized there was no arguing with the little man. In the end he nodded and averted his gaze, ashamed at having to bow to the demands of this interfering man.

“I knew you’d see it my way,” Mr Tiny beamed, then turned his attention to me. “You’ve grown,” he noted. “Inside, where it matters. Your battles with the Wolf Man and Murlough have toughened you.”

“How do you know about that?” Mr Crepsley gasped. It was common knowledge that I’d had a run-in with the fearsome Wolf Man, but nobody was meant to know of our fight with Murlough. If the vampaneze ever found out, they’d hunt us to the ends of the Earth and kill us.

“I know all manner of things,” Mr Tiny cackled. “This world holds no secrets from me. You’ve come a long way,” he addressed me again, “but there’s a long way yet to go. The path ahead isn’t easy, and I’m not just talking about the route to Vampire Mountain. You must be strong, and keep faith in yourself. Never admit defeat, even when it seems inevitable.”

I hadn’t expected such a speech, and I listened in a daze, numbly wondering why he was sharing such words with me.

“That’s all I have to say,” he finished, standing and rubbing his heart-shaped watch. “Time’s ticking. We’ve all got places to be and deadlines to meet. I’ll be on my way. Hibernius, Larten, Darren.” He bowed briefly to each of us in turn. “We’ll meet again, I’m sure.” He turned, headed for the door, shared a look with the Little People, then let himself out. In the silence which followed, we stared at one another speechlessly, wondering what all that had been about.

Mr Crepsley wasn’t happy but he couldn’t postpone leaving — making it to the Council on time was more important than anything else, he told me. So, while the Little People stood waiting outside his van, I helped him pack.

“Those clothes will not do,” he said, referring to my bright pirate costume which still fitted me after all the years of wear and tear. “Where we are going, you would stand out like a peacock. Here,” he thrust a bundle at me. I unrolled it to reveal a light grey jumper and trousers, along with a woolly cap.

“How long have you been preparing for this?” I asked.

“Some time now,” he admitted, pulling on clothes of a similar colour to mine, in place of his usual red attire.

“Couldn’t you have told me about it earlier?”

“I could have,” he replied in that infuriating way of his.

I slipped into my new clothes, then looked for socks and shoes. Mr Crepsley shook his head when he saw me searching. “No footwear,” he said. “We go barefoot.”

“Over snow and ice?” I yelped.

“Vampires have harder feet than humans,” he said. “You will barely feel the cold, especially when we are walking.”