CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

RETREATING STEALTHILY, I cleared the copse. Seeing no guards, I rushed back to the Cirque Du Freak, pausing neither for breath nor thought. I reached the campsite ten minutes later, having raced as fast as my powers allowed.

The show had commenced and Mr. Crepsley was standing in what used to be the church's vestry, watching Rhamus Twobellies eat a tyre. He looked very dashing in his red suit, and he'd rubbed blood along the scar down the left side of his face, drawing attention to it, making him look more mysterious than usual.

"Where have you been?" he snapped as I entered, panting. "I have looked all over for you. I thought I would have to perform alone. Truska has your pirate costume ready. If we hurry, we can—"

"Where's Vancha?" I gasped.

"Off sulking somewhere," Mr. Crepsley chuckled. "He still has not—"

"Larten," I interrupted. He stopped, alerted to the danger by my rare use of his first name. "Forget the show. We have to find Vancha. Now!"

He asked no questions. Telling a stagehand to inform Mr. Tall of his withdrawal from the bill, he led me out to search for Vancha. We found him with Harkat in the tent I was sharing with the Little Person. He was teaching Harkat how to throw shurikens. Harkat was finding it difficult — his fingers were too large to easily grasp the small stars.

"Look who it is," Vancha jeered as we entered. "The king of the clowns and his head assistant. How's show business, boys?"

I pulled the flap of the tent closed and sunk to my haunches. Vancha saw the serious expression in my eyes and put his shurikens away. Quickly and calmly, I told them what had happened. There was a pause when I finished, broken by Vancha, who let fly with a barbed stream of curses.

"We shouldn't have trusted her," he snarled. "Witches are treacherous by nature. She's probably selling us out to the vampaneze even as we speak."

"I doubt that," Mr. Crepsley said. "Evanna would hardly require the aid of the vampaneze if she meant to do us harm."

"You think she's gone over there to discuss frogs?" Vancha barked.

"I do not know what they are discussing, but I do not believe she is betraying us," Mr. Crepsley said stubbornly.

"Maybe we should ask Mr. Tall," Harkat suggested. "From what Darren says, he knows what Evanna… is up to. Perhaps he would tell us."

Vancha looked at Mr. Crepsley. "He's your friend. Should we try?"

Mr. Crepsley shook his head. "If Hibernius knew we were in danger, and was capable of warning or aiding us, he would have."

"Very well," Vancha smiled grimly. "We'll have to take them on ourselves." He stood and checked his supply of shurikens.

"We're going to fight them?" I asked, insides tightening.

"We're hardly going to sit here and wait for them to attack!" Vancha replied. "The element of surprise is vital. While we have it, we must make use of it."

Mr. Crepsley looked troubled. "Perhaps they do not mean to attack," he said. "We only arrived last night. They could not have known we were coming. Their being here might have nothing to do with us."

"Nonsense!" Vancha howled. "They're here to kill, and if we don't strike first, they'll be on us before—"

"I'm not so sure," I muttered. "Now that I think about it, they weren't on guard or nervous, as they would have been if they were preparing for a fight."

Vancha cursed some more, then sat down again. "OK. Let's say they aren't after us. Perhaps it's coincidence and they don't know we're here." He leant forward. "But they will when Evanna's finished filling them in!"

"You think she'll tell them about us?" I asked.

"We'd be fools to chance it." He cleared his throat. "In case you've forgotten, we're at war. I've nothing personal against our blood-cousins, but for the time being they're our enemies, and we must show them no mercy. Let's say these vampaneze and their servant have nothing to do with our being here. So what? It's our duty to engage them in battle and cut them down."

"That's murder, not self-defence," Harkat said softly.

"Aye," Vancha agreed. "But would you rather we let them go on to murder some of our own? Our quest to find the Vampaneze Lord takes precedence over all else, but when the chance to cull a few stray vampaneze drops our way, we'd be fools — traitors! — not to seize it."

Mr. Crepsley sighed. "And Evanna? What if she takes the side of the vampaneze against us?"

"Then we fight her too," Vancha sniffed.

"You fancy your chances against her?" Mr. Crepsley smiled thinly.

"No. But I know my duty." He stood, and this time there was a certainty to his stance. "I'm going to kill vampaneze. If you want to come, you can. If not…" He shrugged.

Mr. Crepsley looked at me. "What do you say, Darren?"

"Vancha's right," I said slowly. "If we let them go, and they kill vampires later, we'd be to blame. Besides, there's something we're overlooking — the Lord of the Vampaneze." Mr. Crepsley and Vancha stared at me. "We're destined to cross paths with him, but I think we have to chase that destiny. Maybe these vampaneze know where he is or will be. I doubt it's coincidence that we're here at the same time as them. This might be fate's way of leading us to him."

"A solid argument," Vancha said.

"Perhaps." Mr. Crepsley didn't sound convinced.

"Remember Mr. Tiny's words?" I said. "To follow our hearts? My heart says we should face these vampaneze."

"Mine too," Harkat said after a moment's hesitation.

"And mine," Vancha added.

"I thought you had no heart," Mr. Crepsley muttered, then stood. "But my heart also demands confrontation, although my head disagrees. We will go."

Vancha grinned bloodthirstily and clapped Mr. Crepsley on the back, then without further ado we stole away into the night.

At the copse we made our plans.

"We'll close on them from four different angles," Vancha said, taking charge. "That way well make them think there are more of us."

"There are nine of them in all," Mr. Crepsley noted, "including Evanna. How do we divide them up?"

"Two vampaneze for you, two for me, two for Harkat. Darren takes the seventh and the servant — he's probably a half-vampaneze or vampet, so he shouldn't pose too much of a problem."

"And Evanna?" Mr. Crepsley asked.

"We could all rush her at the end," Vancha suggested.

"No," Mr. Crepsley decided. "I will handle her."

"You re sure?"

Mr. Crepsley nodded.

"Then all that's left is to split up and move in. Get as close as you can. I'll start by launching a couple of shurikens. I'll aim for arms and legs. Once you hear screams and curses — hit them hard."

"Things would go much smoother if you aimed for throats and heads," I noted.

"I don't fight that way," Vancha growled. "Only cowards kill a foe without facing him. If I have to — as when killing the vampet with the hand grenade — I will, but I prefer to fight cleanly."

The four of us split up and circled the trees, entering the copse at different points. I felt vulnerable and small when I found myself alone in the woods, but quickly thrust such feelings aside and concentrated on my mission. "May the gods of the vampires guide and protect us," I muttered under my breath, before advancing, sword drawn.

The vampaneze and Evanna were still in the clearing at the heart of the copse, talking softly. The moon had broken through the clouds, and although the overhanging branches kept most of the light out, the area was brighter than it had been when I was here before.

Easing forward, I got as close to the vampaneze as I dared, then pulled up behind a thick trunk and waited. All was silent around me. I'd thought Harkat might alert them to our presence — he couldn't move as quietly as a vampire — but the Little Person was taking great care and made no sound.