The Vampire’s Assistant. Darren Shan

The Vampire’s Assistant - Darren Shan


Скачать книгу
nodded slowly.

      “Is it OK if we stay?” Mr Crepsley asked.

      “Of course,” Mr Tall replied immediately. “Delighted to have you back, actually. We’re a bit under-staffed at the moment. Alexander Ribs, Sive and Seersa, and Gertha Teeth are off on holidays or business. Cormac Limbs is on his way to join us, but is late getting here. Larten Crepsley and his amazing performing spider will be an invaluable addition to the line-up.”

      “Thank you,” Mr Crepsley said.

      “What about me?” I asked boldly.

      Mr Tall smiled. “You are less valuable,” he said, “but welcome all the same.”

      I snorted, but said nothing.

      “Where shall we be playing?” Mr Crepsley asked next.

      “Right here,” Mr Tall told him.

      “Here?” I piped up in surprise.

      “That puzzles you?” Mr Tall enquired.

      “It’s in the middle of nowhere,” I said. “I thought you only played in towns and cities, where you’d get big audiences.”

      “We always get a big audience,” Mr Tall said. “No matter where we play, people will come. Usually we stick to more populated areas, but this is a slow time of the year for us. As I’ve said, several of our best performers are absent, as are … certain other members of our company.”

      A strange, secretive look passed between Mr Tall and Mr Crepsley, and I felt I was being left out of something.

      “So we are resting for a while,” Mr Tall went on. “We shall not be putting on any shows for a few days. We’re relaxing.”

      “We passed a road-camp on our way,” Mr Crepsley said. “Are they causing any problems?”

      “The foot-soldiers of NOP?” Mr Tall laughed. “They’re too busy defending trees and rocks to interfere with us.”

      “What’s NOP?” I asked.

      “Nature’s Opposing Protectors,” Mr Tall explained. “They’re Eco Warriors. They run around the country, trying to stop new roads and bridges being built. They’ve been here a couple of months, but are due to move on soon.”

      “Are they real warriors?” I asked. “Do they have guns and grenades and tanks?”

      The two adults almost laughed their heads off.

      “He can be quite silly sometimes,” Mr Crepsley said between fits of laughter, “but he is not as dumb as he seems.”

      I felt my face reddening, but held my tongue. I knew from experience that it’s no use getting mad at grown-ups when they laugh at you; it only makes them laugh even harder.

      “They call themselves warriors,” Mr Tall said, “but they’re not really. They chain themselves to trees and pour sand into the engines of JCBs and toss nails in the path of cars. That sort of thing.”

      “Why—” I started, but Mr Crepsley interrupted.

      “We do not have time for questions,” he said. “A few more minutes and the sun will be up.” He rose and shook Mr Tall’s hand. “Thank you for having us back, Hibernius.”

      “My pleasure,” Mr Tall replied.

      “I trust you took good care of my coffin?”

      “Of course.”

      Mr Crepsley smiled happily and rubbed his hands together. “That is what I miss most when I am away. It will be nice to bed down in it once more.”

      “What about the boy?” Mr Tall asked. “Do you want us to knock together a coffin for him?”

      “Don’t even think about it!” I shouted. “You won’t get me in one of those again!” I remembered what it felt like to be in a coffin, when I was buried alive, and shivered.

      Mr Crepsley smiled. “Put Darren in with one of the other performers,” he said. “Somebody his own age, if possible.”

      Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.

      Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

      Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

      Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.

/9j/4QAYRXhpZgAASUkqAAgAAAAAAAAAAAAAAP/sABFEdWNreQABAAQAAABaAAD/4QSAaHR0cDov L25zLmFkb2JlLmNvbS94YXAvMS4wLwA8P3hwYWNrZXQgYmVnaW49Iu+7vyIgaWQ9Ilc1TTBNcENl aGlIenJlU3pOVGN6a2M5ZCI/PiA8eDp4bXBtZXRhIHhtbG5zOng9ImFkb2JlOm5zOm1ldGEvIiB4 OnhtcHRrPSJBZG9iZSBYTVAgQ29yZSA1LjAtYzA2MSA2NC4xNDA5NDksIDIwMTAvMTIvMDctMTA6 NTc6MDEgICAgICAgICI+IDxyZGY6UkRGIHhtbG5zOnJkZj0iaHR0cDovL3d3dy53My5vcmcvMTk5 OS8wMi8yMi1yZGYtc3ludGF4LW5zIyI+IDxyZGY6RGVzY3JpcHRpb24gcmRmOmFib3V0PSIiIHht bG5zOnhtcFJpZ2h0cz0iaHR0cDovL25zLmFkb2JlLmNvbS94YXAvMS4wL3JpZ2h0cy8iIHhtbG5z OnhtcE1NPSJodHRwOi8vbnMuYWRvYmUuY29tL3hhcC8xLjAvbW0vIiB4bWxuczpzdFJlZj0iaHR0 cDovL25zLmFkb2JlLmNvbS94YXAvMS4wL3NUeXBlL1Jlc291cmNlUmVmIyIgeG1sbnM6eG1wPSJo dHRwOi8vbnMuYWRvYmUuY29tL3hhcC8xLjAvIiB4bWxuczpkYz0iaHR0cDovL3B1cmwub3JnL2Rj L2VsZW1lbnRzLzEuMS8iIHhtcFJpZ2h0czpNYXJrZWQ9IkZhbHNlIiB4bXBNTTpEb2N1bWVudElE PSJ4bXAuZGlkOjY5QjU2MEE3NkE3QTExRTI4MkUyQzYyQzNERDE4NkEyIiB4bXBNTTpJbnN0YW5j ZUlEPSJ4bXAuaWlkOjY5QjU2MEE2NkE3QTExRTI4MkUyQzYyQzNERDE4NkEyIiB4bXA6Q3JlYXRv clRvb2w9IkFkb2JlIFBob3Rvc2hvcCBDUzIgTWFjaW50b3NoIj4gPHhtcE1NOkRlcml2ZWRGcm9t IHN0UmVmOmluc3RhbmNlSUQ9InV1aWQ6QTgwMzNBRDY0RkMzMTFFMDkxNEQ4NUUxNTNCODlEOUMi IHN0UmVmOmRvY3VtZW50SUQ9InV1aWQ6MDVFRjE3MkFCRUZEMTFEREFENTREM0MyNEJBOENBRjEi Lz4gPGRjOmNyZWF0b3I+IDxyZGY6U2VxPiA8cmRmOmxpPkJyYWNrZW5ib3JvdWdoLCBNaWNoZWxs ZTwvcmRmOmxpPiA8L3JkZjpTZXE+IDwvZGM6Y3JlYXRvcj4gPGRjOnRpdGxlPiA8cmRmOkFsdD4g PHJkZjpsaSB4bWw6bGFuZz0ieC1kZWZhdWx0Ij5EYXJyZW5TaGFuXzJfVkFzc2lzdGFudC5xeGQ6 VGhlIFNhZ2Egb2YgRGFycmVuIFNoYW48L3JkZjpsaT4gPC9yZGY6QWx0PiA8L2RjOnRpdGxlPiA8 L3JkZjpEZXNjcmlwdGlvbj4gPC9yZGY6UkRGPiA8L3g6eG1wbWV0YT4gPD94cGFja2V0IGVuZD0i ciI/Pv/tAEhQaG90b3Nob3AgMy4wADhCSU0EBAAAAAAADxwBWgADGyVHHAIAAAIAAgA4QklNBCUA AAAAABD84R+JyLfJeC80YjQHWHfr/+IMWElDQ19QUk9GSUxFAAEBAAAMSExpbm8CEAAAbW50clJH QiBYWVogB84AAgAJAAYAMQAAYWNzcE1TRlQAAAAASUVDIHNSR0IAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAPbWAAEA AAAA0y1IUCAgAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

Скачать книгу