I saw Mr. Crepsley and Seba Nile entering the cave, their red robes billowing behind them, eager to be part of the bloodshed. I didn't hold their eagerness to kill against them. I didn't hold it against any of the vampires. I just thought it was misplaced and unseemly.

The fighting intensified shortly after Mr. Crepsley and Seba joined the fray. Only the toughest and most composed of the vampaneze had survived the first period of madness, and now they battled grimly to the finish, making their stands, some alone, some in pairs, taking as many vampires to the grave with them as they could.

I saw the first vampire casualties slump to the ground, bellies sliced open or heads bashed in, bleeding and sobbing, crying out loud with pain. On the floor, dying, covered in blood, they looked no different from the vampaneze.

As the front-runners of the second vampire wave trickled into the cave, Vanez slapped Arrow's back and told him to leave. "Leave?" the Prince snorted. "It's just getting interesting!"

"You've got to go," Vanez roared, dragging Arrow away from the fighting. "It's Mika's turn to bloody his blade. Go back to the Hall of Princes and relieve Paris, as you promised. You've had your fair share of the killing. Don't be greedy."

Arrow left reluctantly. On his way, he passed Mika, and the two clapped each other on the back, as though one was a substitute replacing the other in a game of football.

"Not pleasant, is it?" Vanez grunted, pulling up beside me. He was sweating freely and paused to dry his hands on his tunic as the fighting raged around us.

"It's horrible," I muttered, gripping my knife before me like a cross.

"You shouldn't be here," Vanez said. "Larten wouldn't approve if he knew."

"I'm not doing it for fun," I told him.

Looking deep into my eyes, Vanez sighed. "So I see. You learn quickly, Darren."

"What do you mean?" I asked.

He gestured at the warring, whooping vampires. "They think this is a great sport." He laughed bleakly. "They forget that the vampaneze were once our brothers, that by destroying them, we destroy a part of ourselves. Most vampires never realize how pointless and savage war truly is. You were smart enough to see the truth. Don't ever forget it."

A dying vampaneze stumbled toward us. His eyes had been cut out, and he was moaning pitifully. Vanez caught him, lowered him to the floor, and finished him off quickly and mercifully. When he stood, his face was grim. "But, painful as war is," he said, "sometimes it can't be avoided. We didn't seek this confrontation. Remember that later, and don't hold our aggression against us. We were forced into this."

"I know," I sighed. "I just wish there'd been some other way to punish the vampaneze, short of tearing them to pieces."

"You should leave," Vanez suggested. "This is where the truly dirty work begins. Return to the Halls and drink yourself senseless."

"I might do that," I agreed and turned away, leaving Vanez and the others to round up the final stubborn vampaneze. As I was departing, I spotted a familiar face among the crowd — a vampaneze with a dark red birthmark on his left cheek. It took me a moment to recall his name — Glalda, the one who'd spoken with Kurda in the tunnel when Gavner was killed. He'd wanted to kill me as well as Gavner. Hatred flared in my chest, and I had to resist the urge to dart back into the action.

Edging clear of the fighting, I would have slipped away, but a crowd of vampires was blocking my path. They'd surrounded a wounded vampaneze and were taunting him before they closed in for the kill. Disgusted by their antics, I looked for another way out. As I was doing that, Arra Sails stepped forward to meet the challenge of the vampaneze named Glalda. Two vampires lay dead at his feet, but Arra pushed on regardless.

"Prepare to die, worm!" she yelled, flicking at him with her chain.

Glalda brushed aside the length of chain and laughed. "So the vampires send women to do their fighting now!" he sneered.

"Women are all the vampaneze are fit to face," Arra retorted. "You are not worthy of facing men and dying with honor. Imagine the disgrace when word spreads that you perished at the hands of a woman!"

"That would be a disgrace," Glalda agreed, lunging with his sword. "But it won't happen!"

The two ceased trading words and started trading blows. I was surprised they'd exchanged as much banter as they had — most of the combatants were too concerned with the business of trying to stay alive to stand around like movie stars and trade verbal insults. Arra and the vampaneze circled each other warily, lashing out with their weapons, probing for weak points. Glalda might have been surprised to come face-to-face with a woman, but he treated her with wary respect. Arra, for her part, was more reckless. She'd mown down several of the panic-stricken vampaneze early in the encounter and had come to believe that all would fall as easily as her initial victims had. She left clumsy defensive gaps and took perilous, needless risks.

I wanted to escape the confines of the cave and put the fighting behind me, but I couldn't bring myself to leave until I'd seen Arra's encounter through to the end. She'd been a good friend and had come looking for me when I disappeared. I didn't want to slip away until I knew she was safe.

Mr. Crepsley also stopped to observe Arra's battle. He was quite a distance away, separated from her by a pack of scuffling vampires and vampaneze. "Arra!" he yelled. "Do you need help?"

"Not I!" she laughed, driving her chain at the face of the vampaneze. "I'll finish this fool off before you can say —»

Whatever boast she was about to make was cut short. Ducking out of the way of her chain, Glalda brushed her defensive stroke aside, drove the tip of his sword deep into her belly, and twisted cruelly. Arra cried out with anguish and fell.

"Now, woman" the vampaneze sneered, straddling her and raising his sword. "Watch closely — I'll show you how we dispose of your kind!" Aiming the tip of his sword at her eyes, he brought it down slowly. Arra could do nothing but stare up at him hatefully and wait to die.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Icouldn't stand by and let Glalda kill Arra. Darting forward, I threw myself against the vampaneze and knocked him off-balance. He swore, fell heavily, and turned to deal with me. But I was quicker with my light dagger than he was with his heavy sword. Diving on top of him, I stuck it into his chest and by luck pierced his heart.

This vampaneze didn't die quietly like the first one I'd killed. He shook and babbled madly, then rolled over, dragging me with him. He tried clambering to his feet. It was hopeless — it must have been clear to him that he was going to die — but he made the effort anyway.

When his legs gave out, he collapsed on top of me, almost spearing me with the handle of my own dagger. I gasped for breath beneath him as he convulsed and moaned, then managed to heave him off and slide out.

As I got to my knees, I saw his face relax and the life leave his body. I paused and studied him. His expression was much like Gavner's had been — surprised… annoyed… afraid.

Gently, I closed the dead warrior's eyelids, then made the death's touch sign by pressing my middle fingers to my forehead and eyes, and spreading my thumb and little finger wide. "Even in death, may you be triumphant," I whispered.

Then I went to check on Arra. She was in a bad way. She tried getting up, but I held her down and made her press her hands over the wound in her belly to stop the flow of blood.

"Will I… die?" Arra gasped, her lips thin with pain.

"Of course not," I said, only for her to grab my hands and glare at me.

"Will I die?" she barked.