"Why was he so mean?" I asked.

"I think because they never reacted," Evra said. "He liked to see people get upset, but the Little People never cried or screamed or lashed out. They didn't seem to notice his pranks. At least, everybody thought they didn't notice…"

Evra made a funny noise that was half a laugh, half a moan.

"One morning we woke up and Bradley had disappeared. Nowhere to be found. We searched for him, but when he didn't turn up, we moved on. We weren't worried; performers join and leave the Cirque pretty much as they please. It wasn't the first time somebody had sneaked away in the middle of the night.

"I didn't think any more about it until a week or so later. Mr. Tiny had come to see us the day before and took all but two of the Little People with him. Mr. Tall told me I had to help the leftover pair with their duties. I cleaned up their tent and rolled up their hammocks — they all sleep in hammocks. That's where I got mine from. Did I mention that before?" He hadn't, but I didn't want to sidetrack him, so I said nothing.

"After that," he went on, "I washed their pot. It was a big black pot, set on a fire in the middle of the tent. The place had to have been full of smoke whenever they cooked because the pot was covered in grime.

"I took it outside and tried to scrape the grime — scraps of meat and pieces of bone — onto the grass. I scrubbed it thoroughly, then took it back inside. Next I decided to pick up the pieces of meat in the grass and throw them to the wolf-man. 'Waste not, want not, like Mr. Tall always says.

"As I was picking up the meat and bone, I saw something glistening…"

Evra turned away and rifled through a bag on the ground. When he turned back, he was holding a small gold bracelet. He let my eyes linger on it, then slipped it on over his left hand. He shook his arm as fast as he could but the bracelet never moved.

When he stopped shaking his arm, he slid the bracelet off with the fingers of his right hand and tossed it to me. I examined it but didn't put it on.

"The bracelet the sheik gave to Bradley Stretch?" I guessed.

"The same," Evra said.

I handed it back.

"I don't know whether it was because of something really bad he did," Evra said, fingering the bracelet, "or if they were just tired of the nonstop teasing. What I do know is, ever since, I've gone out of my way to be polite to the small, silent people in the dark blue capes."

"What did you do with the remains of… I mean, with the scraps of meat?" I asked. "Did you bury them?"

"Heck, no," Evra said. "I fed them to the wolf-man, like I meant to." Then, in response to my horrified look, he said, "Waste not, want not, remember?"

I stared at him for a second, then began to laugh. Evra laughed, too. In a minute we were both rolling around on the floor in hysterics.

"We shouldn't laugh." I caught my breath. "Poor Bradley Stretch. We should be crying."

"I'm laughing too hard to cry," Evra gasped.

"I wonder what he tasted like?"

"I don't know," Evra said. "But I bet he was rubbery."

That made us laugh even more. Tears rolled from our eyes and trickled down our cheeks. It was a terrible thing to laugh at, but we couldn't help it.

In the middle of our fit of hysteria, the flap to the door of our tent was pulled aside by an inquisitive head, and Hans Hands entered. "What's the joke?" he asked, but we couldn't tell him. I tried, but every time I started, I began to laugh again.

He shook his head and rolled his eyes. Then, when we finally quieted down, he told us why he was there.

"I have a message for you two," he said. "Mr. Tall wants you to report to his van as soon as possible."

"What's up, Hans?" Evra asked. He was still laughing. "Why does he want us?"

"He doesn't," Hans said. "Mr. Tiny is with him. He's the one who wants you."

Our laughter stopped instantly. Hans let himself out without any further words.

"Mr. Tuh-tuh-tuh-Tiny wants us," Evra gasped.

"I heard," I said. "What do you think he wants?"

"I don't kn-kn-kn-know," Evra stuttered, though I could tell what was going through his mind. It was the same thing that was rushing through mine. We were thinking of the Little People, Bradley Stretch, and the big black pot full of scraps of human meat and bone.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Mr. tall, Mr. Crepsley, and Mr. Tiny were in the van when we entered. Evra was shaking like a leaf, but I wasn't really nervous. But when I saw the worried looks on Mr. Tall's and Mr. Crepsley's faces and realized how uneasy they were, it put me on edge a little.

"Come in, boys," Mr. Tiny welcomed us, as though it was his van and not Mr. Tall's. "Sit down, make yourselves at home."

"I'll stand if that's okay," Evra said, trying not to let us hear the chatter of his teeth.

"I'll stand, too," I said, following Evra's lead.

"As you wish," Mr. Tiny said. He was the only one sitting.

"I've been hearing a lot about you, young Darren Shan," Mr. Tiny said. He was rolling something between his hands: a heart-shaped watch. I could hear it ticking whenever there was a pause in his speech.

"You're quite the boy, by all accounts," Mr. Tiny went on. "A most remarkable young man. Sacrificed everything to save a friend. There aren't many who would do as much. People are so self-centered these days. It's good to see the world can still produce heroes."

"I'm no hero," I said, blushing at the compliment.

"Of course you are," he insisted. "What is a hero but a person who lays everything on the line for the good of somebody else?"

I smiled proudly. I couldn't understand why Evra was so afraid of this nice, strange man. There was nothing terrible about Mr. Tiny. I kind of liked him.

"Larten tells me you're reluctant to drink human blood," Mr. Tiny continued. "I don't blame you. Nasty, repulsive stuff. Can't stand it. Apart from young children, of course. Their blood is scrump-dilly-icious."

I frowned. "You can't drink blood from them," I said. "They're too small. If you took blood from a young child, you'd kill it."

His eyes widened and so did his smile.

" So ?" he asked softly.

A chill ran down my spine. If he had been joking, it would have been in really poor taste, but I could have overlooked it (hadn't I just been laughing about poor Bradley Stretch?). But I could tell from his expression that he was totally serious.

All of a sudden I knew why this man was so feared. He was evil. Not just bad or nasty, but pure demonic evil. This was a man I could imagine killing thousands of people just to hear them scream.

"You know," Mr. Tiny said, "your face seems familiar. Have we met before, Darren Shan?"

I shook my head.

"Are you certain?" he asked. "You look very familiar."

"I… would have… remembered," I stuttered.

"You can't always trust memory." Mr. Tiny smiled. "It can be a deceptive monster. Still, no matter. Maybe I'm confusing you with someone else."

By the way his lips twisted into a grin (how did I ever think that was a nice smile?), I could see he didn't think that. But I was sure he was wrong. There's no way I would have forgotten meeting a creature like him.

"Down to business," Mr. Tiny said. His hands tightened on the heart-shaped watch and for a second they seemed to glow and melt into its ticking face. I blinked and rubbed my eyes. When I looked again, the illusion — which it must have been — was gone.

"You boys saw me arrive with my Little People," Mr. Tiny said. "They're new converts to my cause and are a little unsure of the ropes. Normally I'd stick around and teach them how to work, but I have business elsewhere. Still, they're smart and I'm sure they'll learn.

"However, while they're learning, I'd like it if you two fine, young men would help ease them into the swing of things. You won't have to do much. Mainly I want you to find food for them. They have such big appetites.