Gavner wanted to flit ahead to consult with the other vampires, but Mr. Crepsley wouldn't let him — the laws against flitting on the way to Vampire Mountain were more important than our safety, he insisted.

It was strange how Gavner went along with most of what Mr. Crepsley said. As a General, he could have ordered us to do whatever he pleased. But I'd never seen him pull rank on Mr. Crepsley. Maybe it was because Mr. Crepsley had once been a General of high ranking. He'd been on the verge of becoming a Vampire Prince when he quit. Maybe Gavner still considered Mr. Crepsley his superior.

After a full day's sleep, the vampires set off to scout the land ahead again. If the way was clear, we'd start back on the trail to Vampire Mountain the next night.

I ate a small breakfast, then Rudi and me headed down to the forest to play. Rudi loved being away from the adult wolves. He was able to explore freely, with no one to snap at him or cuff him around the head if he misbehaved. He tried climbing trees but was too short for most. Finally he found one with low-hanging branches and he clambered halfway up. Once there, he looked down and whimpered.

"Come on," I laughed. "You're not that high up. You don't need to be afraid." He ignored me and went on whimpering. Then he bared his fangs and growled.

I stepped closer, puzzled by his behavior. "What's wrong?" I asked. "Are you stuck? Do you want help?" The cub yapped. He sounded genuinely frightened. "Okay, Rudi," I said, "I'm coming up to —"

I was silenced by a bone-shattering roar. Turning, I saw a huge, dark bear lurching over the top of a snowdrift. It landed heavily, shook its snout, snarled, fixed its gaze on me — then lunged, teeth flashing, claws exposed, hell-bent on tearing me apart!

CHAPTER EIGHT

THE BEAR WOULD HAVE KILLED me, if it wasn't for Rudi. The cub leaped from the tree, landing on top of the bear's head, momentarily blinding it. The bear roared and swiped at the cub, who ducked and bit one of its ears. The bear roared again and shook its head viciously from side to side. Rudi held on for a couple of seconds, before he was sent flying into a thicket.

The bear resumed its attack on me, but in the time the cub had bought, I'd ducked around the tree and was racing for the cave as fast as I could. The bear lurched after me, realized I was too far ahead, bellowed angrily, turned, and went looking for Rudi.

I stopped when I heard frightened yapping. Looking over my shoulder, I saw that the cub had made it back up the tree, the bark of which the bear was now ripping to pieces with its claws. Rudi wasn't in any immediate danger, but sooner or later he'd slip or the bear would shake him down, and that would be the end of him.

I paused no more than a second, then turned, picked up a rock and the thickest stick I could find, and sped back to try and save Rudi.

The bear let go of the tree when it saw me coming, dropped to its hind legs, and met my challenge. It was a huge beast, maybe a yard and a half high; it had black fur, a white quarter-moon mark across its chest, and a whitish face. Foam flecked its jaws and its eyes were wild, like it was touched by rabid madness.

I stopped in front of the bear and whacked the ground with my stick. "Come on, grizzly," I growled. It snarled and tossed its head. I looked up at Rudi, hoping he'd have enough sense to slink down the tree and retreat to the cave, but he stayed where he was, petrified, unable to let go.

The bear swiped at me, but I ducked out of the way of its massive paw. Rearing up on its hind legs, it collapsed flat on me, trying to crush me with the weight of its body. I avoided it again, but it was a closer call this time.

I was prodding at the bear's face with the end of the stick, aiming for its eyes, when the she-wolves rushed onto the scene — they must have heard Rudi's yapping. The bear howled as one of the wolves leaped and bit deep into its shoulder, while the other attached herself to its legs, tearing at them with her teeth and claws. It shook off the uppermost wolf and bent to deal with the lower one, which was when I darted in with my stick and jabbed at its left ear.

I must have hurt it, because it lost interest in the wolves and hurled itself at me. I ducked out of the way of its body, but one of its burly forelegs connected with the side of my head and knocked me to the ground.

The bear rolled to its feet and went for me, scattering the wolves with swipes of its claws. I scrambled backward, but not fast enough. Suddenly the bear was above me, standing erect, bellowing triumphantly — it had me exactly where it wanted! I slammed the stick against its stomach, then the rock, but it didn't take any notice of such feeble blows. Leering, it started to fall…

Which was when the Little People barreled into its back and knocked it off balance. Their timing couldn't have been any sweeter.

The bear must have thought the entire world was conspiring against it. Every time it had me in its sights, something new got in the way. Roaring loudly at the Little People, it threw itself at them madly. The one with the limp stepped out of its way, but the other got trapped beneath it.

The Little Person raised his short arms, jammed them against the bear's torso, and tried to shove it aside. The Little Person was strong, but he stood no chance against such a massive enemy, and the bear came crashing down and flattened him. There was a horrible crunching sound, and when the bear got to its feet, I saw the Little Person lying in pieces, broken bones jutting out of his body at crooked red angles.

The bear lifted its head and bellowed at the sky, then fixed its eyes on me and leered hungrily. Dropping to all fours, it advanced. The wolves leaped at it but it shook them loose as though they were fleas. I was still dazed from the blow, not able to get to my feet. I began crawling through the snow.

As the bear closed in for the kill, the second Little Person — the one I called Lefty — stepped in front of it, caught it by its ears, and head-butted it! It was the craziest thing I'd ever seen, but it did an amazingly effective job. The bear grunted and blinked dumbly. Lefty head-butted it again and was rearing his head back for a third blow when the bear struck at him with its right paw, like a boxer.

It hit Lefty in the chest and knocked him down. His hood had fallen off during the struggle and I could see his gray, stitched-together face and round, green eyes. There was a mask over his mouth, like the kind doctors wear during surgery. He stared up at the bear, unafraid, waiting for the killer blow.

"No!" I screamed. Stumbling to my knees, I threw a punch at the bear. It snarled at me. I punched it again, then grabbed a handful of snow and threw it into the beast's eyes.

While the bear cleared its vision, I looked for a weapon. I was desperate — anything was better than my bare hands. At first I saw nothing I could use, but then my eyes fell on the bones sticking out of the dead Little Person's body. Acting on instinct, I rolled across to where the Little Person lay, took hold of one of the longer bones, and pulled. It was covered in blood and my fingers slipped off. Trying again, I got a firmer hold and worked it from side to side. After a few tugs it snapped near the base and suddenly I wasn't defenseless anymore.

The bear had regained its sight and was pounding toward me. Lefty was still on the ground. The wolves were barking furiously, unable to do anything to stop the charging bear. The cub yapped from its perch in the tree.

I was on my own. Me against the bear. No one could help me now.

Spinning, using all my extra-sharp vampire abilities, I rolled underneath the clutching claws of the bear, jumped to my feet, picked my spot, and rammed the tip of the bone deep into the bear's unprotected neck.