The bear came to a halt. Its eyes bulged. Its forelegs dropped by its sides. For a moment it stood, gasping painfully, the bone sticking out of its neck. Then it crashed to the ground, shook horribly for a few seconds — and died.

I fell on top of the dead bear and lay there. I was shaking and crying, more from fright than pain. I'd looked death in the eye before, but never had I been involved in a fight as savage as this.

Eventually, one of the she-wolves — the normally shy one — cuddled up to me and licked around my face, making sure I was all right. I patted her to show I was okay, and buried my face in her neck, drying my tears on her hair. When I felt steady, I stood and gazed at the area around me.

The other she-wolf was by the tree, coaxing Rudi down — the cub was even more shaken than me. The dead Little Person lay not far away, his blood seeping into the snow, turning it crimson. Lefty was sitting up, checking himself for injuries.

I made my way over to Lefty to thank him for saving my life. He was incredibly ugly without his hood: He had gray skin, and his face was a mass of scars and stitches. He had no ears or nose that I could see, and his round, green eyes were set near the top of his head, not in the middle of his face like they are with most people. He was completely hairless.

Any other time I might have been frightened, but this creature had risked his life to save mine, and all I felt was gratitude. "Are you okay, Lefty?" I asked. He looked up and nodded. "That was a close call." I half-laughed. Again he nodded. "Thanks for coming to my rescue. I would have been a goner if you hadn't stepped in." I sank to the ground beside him and gazed at the bear, then at the dead Little Person. "Sorry about your partner, Lefty," I said softly. "Should we bury him?"

The Little Person shook his large head, started to rise, then paused. He stared into my eyes, and I stared back questioningly. By the expression on his face, I almost expected him to speak.

Reaching up, Lefty gently tugged down the mask that covered the lower half of his face. He had a wide mouth full of sharp, yellow teeth. He stuck out his tongue — which was a weird gray color, like his skin — and licked his lips. When they were wet, he flexed and stretched them a few times, then did the one thing I was sure the Little People could never do. In a creaky, slow, mechanical tone — he spoke.

"Name… not Lefty. Name… Harkat… Harkat Mulds." And his lips spread into a jagged gash, which was as close to a smile as he could come.

CHAPTER NINE

MR. CREPSLEY, GAVNER, AND STREAK had been checking a maze of cliff-top tunnels when they heard faint echoes of the fight. They raced back, arriving fifteen minutes or so after I'd killed the bear. They were stunned when I explained what happened and told them about Harkat Mulds. The Little Person had replaced his robes and hood, and when they asked him if it was true that he could talk, there was a long moment of silence during which I thought he wasn't going to say anything. Then he nodded and croaked, "Yes." Gavner actually jumped back a few steps when he heard the Little Person speak. Mr. Crepsley shook his head, amazed. "We will discuss this later," he said. "First there is the bear to deal with." He crouched beside the dead bear and studied it from top to bottom. "Describe how it attacked you," he said, and I told him about the bear's sudden appearance and savage attack. "It makes no sense." Mr. Crepsley frowned. "Bears do not behave in such a fashion unless agitated or starving. It was not hunger that motivated it — look at its round stomach — and if you did nothing to upset it…"

"It was foaming at the mouth," I said. "I think it had rabies."

"We shall soon see." The vampire used his sharp nails to cut open the bear's belly. He stuck his nose close to the cut and sniffed the blood that was oozing out. After a few seconds he made a face and stood up.

"Well?" Gavner asked.

"The bear was insane," Mr. Crepsley said, "but not with rabies — it had consumed the blood of a vampaneze!"

"How?" I gasped.

"I am not sure," Mr. Crepsley replied, then looked up at the sky. "We have time before dawn. We will trace this bear's trail and perhaps learn more along the way."

"What about the dead Little Person?" Gavner asked. "Should we bury him?"

"Do you want to bury him… Harkat?" Mr. Crepsley asked, echoing my earlier question.

Harkat Mulds shook his head. "Not really."

"Then leave him," the vampire snapped. "Scavengers and birds will pick his bones clean. We do not have time to waste."

The path of the bear was easy to follow — even an untrained tracker like me could have traced it by the deep footprints and broken twigs.

Night was coming to a close as we pulled up at a small mound of stones and found what had driven the bear mad. Half-buried underneath the stones was a purple body with a red head of hair — a vampaneze!

"By the way his skull is crushed, he must have died in a fall," Mr. Crepsley said, examining the dead man. "The bear found him after he was buried and dug him up. See the chunks that have been bitten out of him?" He pointed to the gaping holes in the vampaneze's belly. "That is what drove it mad — the blood of vampaneze and vampires is poisonous. Had you not killed it, it would have died in another night or two anyway."

"So that's where our mystery vampaneze was," Gavner grunted. "No wonder we couldn't find him."

"We don't have to worry about him anymore, do we?" I sighed.

"Quite the contrary," Mr. Crepsley snapped. "We have more reason to worry now than before."

"Why?" I asked. "He's dead, isn't he?"

"He is," Mr. Crepsley agreed, then pointed to the stones which had been laid over the vampaneze. "But who buried him?"

We made camp at the base of a cliff, using branches and leaves to make a shelter where the vampires could sleep, safe from the sun. Once they were inside, Harkat and me sat by the entrance and the Little Person told his incredible story. The wolves had gone off hunting, except for Rudi, who curled up in my lap and dozed.

"My memories… are not… complete," said Harkat. Speaking wasn't easy for him and he had to pause for breath a lot. "Much is… clouded. I will tell… you what… I remember. First — I am a… ghost."

Our jaws dropped.

"A ghost!" Mr. Crepsley shouted. "Absurd!"

"Absolutely," Gavner agreed with a grin. "Vampires don't believe in crazy things like ghosts, do we, Larten?"

Before Mr. Crepsley could reply, Harkat corrected himself. "What I should… have said… is, I… was a ghost. All… Little People… were ghosts. Until… they agreed to terms… with Mr. Tiny."

"I don't understand," Gavner said. "Agreed to what terms? How?"

"Mr. Tiny can… talk with… dead," Harkat explained. "I did not… leave Earth… when I died. Soul… could not. I was… stuck. Mr. Tiny found… me. Said he'd give… me a… body, so I… could live again. In return… I'd serve him, as a… Little Person."

According to Harkat, each of the Little People had struck a deal with Mr. Tiny, and each deal was different. They didn't have to serve him forever. Sooner or later, they would be freed, some to live on in the gray, short bodies, some to be reborn, others to move on to heaven or paradise or wherever it is that dead souls go.

"Mr. Tiny has that much power?" Mr. Crepsley asked.

Harkat nodded.

"What deal did you strike with him?" I asked curiously.

"I do not… know," he said. "I cannot… remember."

There were lots of things he couldn't remember. He didn't know who he'd been when he was alive, when or where he'd lived, or how long he'd been dead. He didn't even know if he'd been a man or a woman! The Little People were genderless, which meant they were neither male nor female.