CHAPTER NINETEEN

Upon reaching my cellI fell into my hammock, fully clothed, still stained with the blood of the cave. After sleeping rough for so long, it felt heavenly, and I drifted off to sleep almost immediately. I slept right through the night, and it was early morning when I awoke. The tunnels were quiet outside. Harkat was awake and waiting for me to get up.

"I heard… you killed… two vampaneze," he said, handing me a bucket of cold water, a towel, and a batch of fresh clothes. I grunted in reply, undressed, and washed off the dried, flaky blood.

"The vampires… would not let me… join in. I was glad… in a way. I do not… enjoy the thought… of killing."

"There's little about it to enjoy," I agreed.

"Was it… awful?" he asked.

"I don't want to talk about it," I said.

"Very well. I will not… ask again."

I smiled gratefully, dunked my bald head in the bucket, shook off the water when I came up, scrubbed behind my ears, then asked about Mr. Crepsley. The green light in Harkat's round eyes dimmed slightly. "He is still… with Arra. He is refusing… to leave her side. Seba is with… him, trying to… comfort him."

"Do you think I should go and have a word?"

Harkat shook his head. "Not at the… moment. Later, he will… need you. For now, let him… grieve alone."

Drying myself off, I asked about Vanez and the other vampires, but Harkat wasn't able to tell me much. He knew at least ten vampires had died and more were seriously injured, but word of who they were hadn't reached him.

Once dressed, I accompanied Harkat to the Hall of Khledon Lurt for a quick meal, then we wandered back to our cell and stayed there for the rest of the day. We could have mixed with the vampires in the Hall — they'd cheered loudly when they saw me coming in — but I didn't want to sit listening to them spinning wild tales about the battle and how we'd wiped out the vampaneze.

Finally, toward dusk, Mr. Crepsley staggered into our cell. His face was paler than usual as he slumped into my hammock, lowered his head into his hands, and groaned. "You heard the news?" he whispered.

"Yes," I said. Then, after a brief pause, I added weakly, "Sorry."

"I thought she was going to make it," he sighed. "I knew the wound was fatal, but she lasted such a long time, defying the odds, I began to believe she would live."

"Has she" — I cleared my throat — "has she been cremated yet?"

He shook his head. "Nobody has. The Guardians of the Blood are holding the bodies aside for at least two days and nights, as is our custom. The vampaneze, on the other hand…" He lowered his hands and his expression was genuinely frightening. "They are being fed to the flames at this very moment. We took them from the Guardians and cut them up into tiny pieces, so their souls cannot escape the pull of the Earth — they will never make it to Paradise. I hope they rot here for all eternity."

I sensed this wasn't the right time to speak of the disgust I'd felt in the cave, or my belief that vampires needed to learn compassion, so I held my tongue and nodded quickly.

"What about… Kurda and the… other survivors?" Harkat asked.

"They will be dealt with later," Mr. Crepsley said, eyes narrowing. "They will be questioned first, then executed. I will be there when they are. Do either of you wish to attend?"

"The questioning, yes," I said. "I'm not so sure about the executions."

"I will skip… both," Harkat said. "I don't feel… it's my place… to watch. This is a… matter for vampires."

"As you wish," Mr. Crepsley said. "What about the funerals? Do you want to bid farewell to Arra?"

"Of course," I answered quietly.

"I would like… that," Harkat agreed.

Mr. Crepsley's expression had softened as he mentioned Arra's name. "She did not say much once she left the cave," he whispered, more to himself than to Harkat or me. "Speaking was painful. She conserved her energy. Fought hard. She clung to life as long as she could.

"The medics expected her to die. Every time her breath caught in her throat, they rushed forward, eager to clear the way for other wounded vampires. But she hung on. They got so accustomed to the false alarms that when she did eventually die, they did not realize it, and she lay there twenty minutes, serene in my embrace, smiling blankly at me."

His eyes had filled with tears. I handed him a scrap of cloth as they began to drip, but he didn't use it. "I couldn't hear her last words," he croaked. "She spoke too softly. I think she was making some kind of reference to her defeat on the bars."

"Have you had any sleep?" I asked, beginning to cry too.

"How can I sleep?" he sighed. "There are the inquisitions to prepare for. I will not miss Kurda's sentencing, not if I have to forsake sleep forever."

"Don't be silly," I gently chided him. "When does the questioning start?"

"Midnight," he said with a sniff.

"Then you've plenty of time. Get some sleep. I'll wake you before it starts, and we'll go together."

"Promise?" he asked.

"I wouldn't lie to you about something this important," I replied.

He nodded, rose, and started for his cell. In the doorway, he paused and looked back. "You did well in the cave, Darren. You fought bravely. I was proud of you."

"Thanks," I said, choking on my tears, which were flowing freely now.

"Proud," he muttered again, then faced the corridor and shuffled off to his cell, carrying himself like an old, tired, broken man.

Later that night, Kurda Smahlt's trial began.

The Hall of Princes was packed with furious, bitter vampires, as was the cave outside. Virtually every vampire in the mountain wanted to be there to jeer at the traitor, spit at him, and cheer his sentence when it was announced. I'd come with Mr. Crepsley and Seba Nile. We were seated in the front row. We hadn't thought we'd get so close — we arrived late — but I soon discovered that I was the flavor of the moment. The vampires attributed much of their victory over the vampaneze to my efforts. They roared with rough delight when they saw me, then ushered me forward, pushing Mr. Crepsley and Seba along with me, insisting I take pride of place. I'd have rather hung back and viewed the proceedings from afar, but Mr. Crepsley was anxious to get as close to the platform as possible, and I didn't have the heart to disappoint him, not after what he'd been through with Arra.

The conspirators were going to be brought forward one by one, for separate questioning and sentencing. If they spoke openly, and the Princes were satisfied with their answers, they'd be taken straight to the Hall of Death and executed. If they refused to cooperate, they'd be led away and tortured in the hope that they'd spill their secrets (but vampaneze, like vampires, could deal with enormous amounts of pain and were almost impossible to break).

The first to face trial was Kurda. The disgraced General was dragged forward in chains, past the ranks of hissing and screaming vampires. Some brushed his guards aside and struck or kicked him. A few pulled at his blond hair and yanked fistfuls of it out by the roots. By the time he reached the platform, he was in a sorry state, his white robes ripped, his body bruised and bleeding. Yet still he held his head high, reacting to none of the abuse.

The Princes were waiting for him on the platform, flanked by four guards with long, sharp spears. He was placed before the trio, each of whom spat contemptuously on him. Then he was led to one side and turned around to face the assembled vampires. At first I couldn't bring myself to look him in the eye, but when I finally worked up the courage, I found he was staring down at me, smiling sadly.

"Order!" Mika Ver Leth shouted, silencing the booing vampires. "We have a long night ahead of us. We want to settle each case as quickly and effortlessly as possible. I know feelings are running high, but anyone who interrupts our interrogation of Kurda Smahlt — or the others — will be thrown out immediately. Have I made myself clear?"