"Corza was troubled by Tiny's words, but he'd sought too long and hard to be dissuaded by the threat. He agreed to Tiny's terms, and let him take some of his blood. Tiny mixed Corza's blood with that of a pregnant wolf and worked strange charms on her. The wolf gave birth to four cubs. Two were stillborn and normal in shape, but the others were alive — and human in appearance! One was a boy, the other a girl!"

Vancha paused and looked at Evanna. Harkat and me looked too, our eyes wide. The witch grimaced, then stood and took a bow. "Yes," she said, "I was that hairy little she-cub."

"The children grew quickly," Vancha went on. "Within a year they were adults and left their mother and Corza, to seek out their destiny in the wilds. The boy went first, without saying anything, and nobody knows what became of him.

"Before the girl left, she gave Corza a message to take to the clan. He was to tell them what had happened, and say that she took her duties very seriously. He was also to tell them that she was not ready for motherhood, and that no vampire should seek her out as a mate. She said there was much she had to consider, and it would be centuries — perhaps longer — before she made her choice.

"That was the last any vampire saw of her for four hundred years."

He stopped, looked thoughtful for a moment, then picked up a banana and began to eat it, skin and all. "The end," he mumbled.

"The end?" I shouted. "It can't end there! What happened next? What did she do for those four centuries? Did she choose a mate when she came back?"

"She chose no mate," Vancha said. "Still hasn't. As for what she got up to…" He smiled. "Maybe you should ask her yourselves."

Harkat and me turned to Evanna. "Well?" we asked together.

Evanna pursed her lips. "I chose a name," she said.

I laughed. "You can't have spent four hundred years picking a name!"

"That wasn't all I got up to," she agreed, "but I devoted much of that time to the choice. Names are vital to beings of destiny. I have a role to play in the future, not just of the vampire clan, but of every creature in the world. The name I chose would have a bearing on that role. I settled in the end for Evanna." She paused. "I think it was a good choice."

Rising, Evanna croaked something at her frogs, who set off for the mouth of the cave. "I must go," she said. "We have spoken enough of the past. I will be absent most of the day. When I return, we shall discuss your quest and the part I am to take in it." She departed after the frogs, and moments later had disappeared into the ripening rays of the dawn.

Harkat and me stared after her. Then Harkat asked Vancha if the legend he'd told was true. "As true as any legend can be," Vancha replied cheerfully.

"What does that mean?" Harkat asked.

"Legends change in the telling," Vancha said. "Seventeen hundred years is a long time, even by vampire standards. Did Corza Jam really drag around the world after Desmond Tiny? Did that agent of chaos agree to help? Could Evanna and the boy have been born of a she-wolf?" He scratched an armpit, sniffed his fingers and sighed. "Only three people in the world know the truth — Desmond Tiny, the boy — if he still lives — and Lady Evanna."

"Have you ever asked Evanna if it's true?" Harkat enquired.

Vancha shook his head. "I've always preferred a stirring good legend to boring old facts." With that, the Prince rolled over and dropped off to sleep, leaving Harkat and me to discuss the story quietly and wonder.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

I AROSE with Vancha a couple of hours after midday and commenced my training in the shade near the cave entrance. Harkat watched us with interest, as did Mr. Crepsley when he woke early that afternoon. Vancha started me off with a stick, saying it would be months before he tried me with real weapons. I spent the afternoon watching him flick and stab the stick at me. I didn't have to do anything else, just observe the movements of the stick and learn to identify and anticipate the various ways an attacker had of using it.

We practised until Evanna returned, half an hour shy of sunset. She said nothing of where she'd been or what she'd been up to, and nobody enquired.

"Having fun?" she asked, entering the cave with her entourage of frogs.

"Heaps," Vancha replied, throwing the stick away. "The boy wants to learn to fight with his hands."

"Are swords too heavy for him?"

Vancha pulled a face. "Very funny."

Evanna's laughter brightened the cave. "I'm sorry. But fighting with hands — or swords — seems so childish. People should battle with their brains."

I frowned. "How?"

Evanna glanced at me, and all of a sudden the strength went from my legs and I fell to the floor. "What's happening?" I squealed, flopping about like a dying fish. "What's wrong with me?"

"Nothing," Evanna said, and to my relief my legs returned to normal. "That's how you fight with your brain," she said as I gathered myself together. "Every part of the body connects to the brain. Nothing functions without it. Attack with your brain, and victory is all but assured."

"Could I learn to do that?" I asked eagerly.

"Yes," Evanna said. "But it would take a few hundred years and you would have to leave the vampires and become my assistant." She smiled. "What do you think, Darren? Would it be worth it?"

"I'm not sure," I muttered. I liked the idea of learning magic, but living with Evanna wasn't appealing — with her quick temper, I doubted she'd make an understanding or forgiving teacher!

"Let me know if you change your mind," she said. "It's been a long time since I had an assistant, and none ever completed their studies — they all ran off after a few years, though I can't imagine why." Evanna brushed past us into the cave. Moments later she called us, and when we entered, we found another feast waiting.

"Did you use magic to get it ready so quickly?" I asked, sitting down to eat.

"No," she replied. "I simply moved a little faster than normal. I can work at quite a speed when I wish."

We ate a big dinner, then sat around a fire and discussed Mr. Tiny's visit to Vampire Mountain. Evanna seemed to know about it already, but let us tell the story and said nothing until we had finished. "The three hunters," she mused once we'd brought her up to date. "I have been waiting for you for many centuries."

"You have?" Mr. Crepsley asked, startled.

"I lack Desmond's clear insight into the future," she said, "but I see some of what is to come — or what might come. I knew three hunters would emerge to face the Vampaneze Lord, but I didn't know who they'd be."

"Do you know if we'll be successful?" Vancha asked, observing her keenly.

"I doubt if even Desmond knows that," she said. "Two strong futures lie ahead, each as possible as the other. It's rare for fate to boil down to two such evenly matched eventualities. Normally the paths of the future are many. When two exist like this, chance decides which the world will take."

"What about the Lord of the Vampaneze?" Mr. Crepsley asked. "Have you any idea where he is?"

"Yes." Evanna smiled.

Mr. Crepsley's breath caught in his throat.

"But you won't tell us, will you?" Vancha snorted in disgust.

"No," she said, her smile spreading. Her teeth were long, jagged and yellow like a wolf's.

"Will you tell us how we are to find him?" Mr. Crepsley asked. "And when?"

"I cannot," Evanna said. "If I told, I would change the course of the future, and that's not allowed. You must search for him yourselves. I will accompany you on the next leg of your journey, but I cannot—"

"You're coming with us?" Vancha exploded in astonishment.

"Yes. But only as a travelling companion. I'll play no part in the quest to find the Vampaneze Lord."