"We considered the possibility of letting Darren 'escape' a second time, of relaxing the guard and allowing him to slip away with our unofficial blessing. But there would have been no honor in such a strategy. Darren would have been shamed; you, Larten, would have been shamed; and we who agreed to the compromise would also have been shamed.

"We decided against it."

Mr. Crepsley bristled, then addressed the Princes in a whisper. "Arra made me promise, on her deathbed, that I would not let Darren die. I beg you — do not force me to choose between loyalty to you and my vow to her."

"There will be no need to choose," Paris said. "There is no conflict of interests, as will become apparent as soon as you shut up and let me finish." He smiled as he said this. Then, raising his voice, he again addressed the Hall. "As those who were present during the debate know, Arrow was the first to suggest an honorable way out of our dilemma."

"I don't know how I thought of it," Arrow grunted, running a hand over his bald head, grimacing. "I've never been known as a great thinker. Normally, I act first and think later — if at all! — but a thought was swimming like a fish, deep within the ocean of my brain, and eventually it surfaced."

"The solution," Paris said, "is simplicity itself. We do not need to bend or change the laws to suit Darren's purposes. Instead, we need only place him above them."

"I do not understand." Mr. Crepsley frowned.

"Think, Larten," Paris urged. "Who among us are immune to punishment? Who could fail the Trials of Initiation a dozen times and walk away untouched?"

Mr. Crepsley's eyes widened. "You cannot mean…?" he gasped.

"We do," Paris smirked.

"But… it is incomprehensible! He is too young! He is not a General! He is not even a full-vampire!"

"Who cares?" Mika Ver Leth chipped in, making a wry face. "We're not interested in the fine print. He's earned the right to bear the title. More than any of us here, perhaps, he is worthy."

"This is insane," Mr. Crepsley said, but he was beginning to smile.

"Possibly," Paris agreed. "But it was put to a vote, and all voted in favor of it."

"All?" Mr. Crepsley blinked.

"Every single vampire in the Hall." Mika nodded.

"Excuse me," I whispered to Mr. Crepsley, "but what's going on? What are you talking about?"

"Be quiet," he hushed me. "I will explain presently." He thought over the Princes' proposition — whatever it was — and his smile grew wider. "It makes sense, in a mad sort of way," he muttered. "But surely the title would be honorary? He knows so little of our ways, and he is so young and inexperienced."

"We would not expect him to engage in regular duties," Paris said. "He has much to learn, and we will not rush his development. We will not even make a full-vampire of him — though we must share our blood, we will limit the amount, so he remains a half-vampire. But the appointment will be valid. He will not be a figurehead. He will hold all the responsibilities and powers of the post."

"Look," I grumbled, "tell me what's going on, or —" Mr. Crepsley bent and whispered something in my ear. "What?" I snapped, and he whispered some more. "You can't be serious!" I yelped, feeling the blood rush from my face. "You're pulling my leg!"

"It is the only honorable way," he said.

"But… I couldn't… I'm not… I never…" I shook my head and stared around at the vampires packing the Hall of Princes. They were all smiling now and nodding at me. Seba looked especially pleased. "That group agreed to it?" I asked weakly.

"Every one of them," Paris said. "They respect you, Darren. They also admire you. What you have done for us shall never be forgotten as long as vampires walk the Earth. We wish to show our appreciation, and this is the only way we know."

"I'm amazed," I mumbled. "I don't know what to say."

"Say yes," Arrow laughed, "or we'll have to take you down to the Hall of Death and punch a few holes in you!"

Looking up at Mr. Crepsley, I squinted, then smiled. "You'd have to obey me if I went along with this, wouldn't you?" I asked.

"Of course." He grinned. "I and all others."

"You'd have to do whatever I said?"

"Yes." He lowered his voice. "But do not think you could push me around. I will respect your standing, but I will not let your head swell unchecked. You will still be my assistant, and I will keep you in your rightful place!"

"I bet you will," I chuckled, then faced Paris and drew myself up straight. I stood on the verge of a monumental decision that would change my life forever. I'd have liked a few nights to think about it, but there was no time. It was this or the Hall of Death — and anything was preferable to being dropped on the vicious stakes! "What do I have to do?" I asked.

"There is a lengthy, involved ceremony," Paris said, "but that can be postponed until later. Right now all you need to do is accept our blood and offer some of your own to the Stone of Blood. Once you have been recognized by the Stone, the deed is done, and it can never be reversed."

"OK," I said nervously.

"Step forward then," Paris said, "and let the pact be sealed."

As I advanced, Mr. Crepsley told Harkat what was going on, and I heard him exclaim, "No way!" I found it impossible to hide my grin during the ceremony, even though everybody else in the Hall remained solemn-faced.

First, I removed my shirt. Then Arrow, Mika, and I gathered around the Stone of Blood (only two Princes were required for the ceremony). Using my sharp nails, I cut into the fleshy tips of my ten fingers, drawing blood. Arrow and Mika did the same. When we were ready, Arrow pressed the bloody fingertips of one of his hands to mine, and Mika did the same on the other side. Then the pair laid their free hands on the Stone of Blood, which glowed red and emitted a low thrumming noise.

I could feel the blood of the Princes flowing into me and mine into them. It was an unpleasant sensation, but it wasn't as painful as it had been when Mr. Crepsley first blooded me all those years ago.

The Stone of Blood glowed brighter the longer we remained joined to it, and the outer rim became transparent, so that I was able to see inside it and watch as my blood was added to that of thousands of other creatures of the night.

Stray thoughts zipped frenziedly through my mind. I remembered the night when Mr. Crepsley blooded me. My first real drink of blood, when Sam Grest lay dying in my arms. The vampaneze I'd killed in the cave. The mad vampaneze — Murlough. Steve Leopard — my best friend when I was a human, who'd sworn to track me down and kill me when he grew up. Debbie Hemlock and the softness of her lips when we kissed. Gavner — laughing. Mr. Tall directing his performers at the Cirque Du Freak. Harkat telling me his name after we'd killed the rabid bear. Truska (the bearded lady) dressing me up in a pirate costume. Arra — winking. Mr. Tiny with his heart-shaped watch and loveless eyes. Kurda facing the hall of vampires. Annie and how she used to tease me. Sticking stamps into albums with Mom. Pulling weeds in the garden with Dad. Gavner, Arra, Sam Grest — dying.

I grew faint and would have fallen, but Paris darted behind me and propped me up. The blood was flowing rapidly now, and so were the images. Faces from the past, friends and enemies, moving as fast as the frames of a movie, then faster. Just when I thought I couldn't stand it anymore, Arrow and Mika removed their hands from the Stone of Blood, then broke contact with me, signaling the end of the ceremony. As I slumped backward, Paris quickly rubbed spit onto the tips of my fingers to stop the bleeding. "How do you feel?" he asked, checking my eyes.

"Weak," I muttered.

"Give it a few hours," he said. "Once the blood kicks in, you will feel like a panther!"

The sound of cheering reached my ears, and I realized all the vampires in the hall were hollering their heads off. "What are they shouting about?" I asked.