"Larten Crepsley is recognized by the gate," the guard said. "And Gavner Purl is recognized. But these other two…" He pointed his spear at us and shook his head.

"They are our traveling companions," Mr. Crepsley said. "The boy is my assistant, a half-vampire."

"Do you vouch for him?" the guard asked.

"I do."

"Then Darren Shan is recognized by the gate." The tip of his spear pointed firmly at Harkat now. "But this is no vampire. What business has he at Council?"

"His name is Harkat Mulds. He is a Little Person. He-"

"A Little Person!" The guard gasped, lowering his spear. He crouched and made a rude study of Harkat's face (Harkat had removed his hood soon after we entered the tunnels, so he could see better). "He's an ugly specimen, isn't he?" the guard remarked. If he hadn't been carrying a spear, I'd have told him off for speaking so inconsiderately. "I thought the Little People couldn't speak."

"We all thought that," Mr. Crepsley said. "But they can. At least, this one can. He has a message for the Princes, to be delivered in person."

"A message?" The guard scratched his chin with the tip of the spear. "From who?"

"Desmond Tiny," Mr. Crepsley replied.

The guard blanched, stood to attention, and said quickly, "The Little Person known as Harkat Mulds is recognized by the gate. The Halls are open to all of you. Enter and fare well."

He stepped aside and let us pass. A couple of seconds later the door closed behind us and our journey to the Halls of Vampire Mountain was at an end.

CHAPTER TWELVE

ONE OF THE GREEN-CLAD GUARDS escorted us to the Hall of Osca Velm, which was a Hall of welcome (most of the Halls were named after famous vampires). This was a small cavern, the walls knobbly and black with the grime and soot of decades. It was warmed and lit by a couple of open fires, the air pleasantly thick with smoke (the smoke slowly exited the cavern through natural cracks and holes in the ceiling). There were several roughly carved tables and benches where arriving vampires could rest and eat (the legs of the tables had been made from the bones of large animals). There were handwoven baskets full of shoes on the walls, which newcomers were free to pick from. You could also find out who was in attendance at the Council — a large black stone was set in one of the walls, and the name of every vampire who'd arrived was etched on it. As we sat at a long wooden table, I saw a vampire climb a ladder and add our names to the list. After Harkat's, he put in brackets, "a Little Person."

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. "Bat broth? "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 taste anything?" 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. "He talks?"

"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."

"Most probably not," Mr. Crepsley agreed miserably. Then he shook off his gloom. "Darren, Harkat — this is Seba Nile, the quartermaster of Vampire Mountain. Do not let his age fool you — he is as sly, cunning, and quick as any vampire, and will get the better of those who try and best him."