Vampire Mountain. Darren Shan
“I don’t have any such plans, do I?” I asked suspiciously.
“No,” Mr Crepsley smiled. “Not until you have come of human age. If we made a full-vampire of you now, it would be sixty or seventy years before you were fully grown.”
“I bet it’s horrible ageing so slowly when you’re a kid,” Gavner noted.
“It is,” I sighed.
“Things will improve with time,” Mr Crepsley said.
“Sure,” I said sarcastically, “when I’m all grown up — thirty years from now!” I rose and shook my head, disgusted. I often got downhearted when my thoughts turned to the decades I’d have to spend on the road to maturity.
“Where are you going?” Mr Crepsley asked as I headed towards the trees.
“To the stream,” I said, “to fill our canteens.”
“Maybe one of us should go with you,” Gavner said.
“Darren is not a child,” Mr Crepsley answered before I could. “He will be fine.”
I hid a grin – I enjoyed the rare occasions when the vampire passed a compliment about me – and continued down to the stream. The chilly water was fast-flowing and gurgled loudly as I filled the canteens, splashing around the rims and my fingers. If I’d been human I might have got frostbite, but vampires are a lot sturdier.
As I was corking the second canteen, a tiny cloud of steamy breath drifted across from the other side of the stream. I glanced up, surprised that a wild animal had ventured this close, and found myself staring into the flaming eyes of a fierce, hungry-looking, sharp-fanged wolf.
CHAPTER FIVE
THE WOLF studied me silently, its nose crinkling over its jagged canines as it sniffed my scent. I gently laid my canteen aside, not sure what to do. If I called for help, the wolf might panic and flee — then again, it might attack. If I stayed as I was, it might lose interest and slink away — or it might take it as a sign of weakness and move in for the kill.
I was desperately trying to decide when the wolf tensed its hind legs, lowered its head and pounced, crossing the stream with one mighty bound. It crashed into my chest, knocking me to the ground. I tried scrambling away but the wolf had perched on top of me and was too heavy to throw off. My hands searched frantically for a rock or stick, something to beat the animal with, but there was nothing to grab except snow.
The wolf was a terrifying sight up close, with its dark grey face and slanting yellow eyes, its black muzzle and bared white teeth, some five or six centimetres long. Its tongue lolled out the side of its mouth and it was panting slowly. Its breath stank of blood and raw animal flesh.
I knew nothing about wolves – except vampires couldn’t drink from them – so I didn’t know how to react: attack its face or go for its body? Lie still and hope it went away, or shout and maybe scare it off? While my brain was spinning, the wolf lowered its head, extended its long wet tongue, and … licked me!
I was so stunned, I just lay there, staring up at the jaws of the fearsome animal. The wolf licked me again, then got off, faced the stream, went down on its paws and lapped at the water. I lay where I was a few moments more, then pulled myself up and sat watching it drink, noting that it was a male.
When the wolf had drunk his fill, he stood, lifted his head and howled. From the trees on the opposite side of the stream, three more wolves emerged and crept down to the bank, where they drank. Two were females and one was a young cub, darker and smaller than the others.
The male watched the others drinking, then sat beside me. He snuggled up to me like a dog and, before I knew what I was doing, I’d reached around and was tickling him behind his ear. The wolf whined pleasantly and cocked his head so I could scratch behind the other ear.
One of the she-wolves finished drinking and jumped the stream. She sniffed my feet, then sat on the other side of me and offered her head to be scratched. The male growled at her jealously but she took no notice.
The other two weren’t long joining the couple on my side of the stream. The female was shyer than her mates and hovered several metres away. The cub had no such fears and crawled over my legs and belly, sniffing like a hound-dog. He cocked a leg to mark my left thigh, but before he could, the male wolf snapped at him and sent him tumbling. He barked angrily, then slunk back and climbed over me again. This time he didn’t try to mark his territory — thankfully!
I sat there for ages, playing with the cub and tickling the bigger pair of wolves. The male rolled over on to his back, so that I could rub his belly. His hair was lighter underneath, except for a long streak of black hair which ran part-way up his middle. ‘Streak’ seemed like a good name for a wolf, so that’s what I called him.
I wanted to see if they knew any tricks, so I found a stick and threw it. “Fetch, Streak, fetch!” I shouted, but he didn’t budge. I tried getting him to sit to attention. “Sit, Streak!” I ordered. He stared at me. “Sit — like this.” I squatted on my haunches. Streak moved back a little, as though he thought I might be mad. The cub was delighted and jumped on me. I laughed and stopped trying to teach them tricks.
After that I headed back to camp to tell the vampires about my new friends. The wolves followed, though only Streak walked by my side — the others trailed behind.
Mr Crepsley and Gavner were asleep when I got back, tucked beneath thick deer blankets. Gavner was snoring loudly. With only their heads showing, they looked like the ugliest pair of babies in the world! I wished I had a camera capable of photographing vampires, so that I could snap them.
I was about to join them beneath the blankets when I had an idea. The wolves had stopped at the trees. I coaxed them in. Streak came first and examined the copse, making sure it was safe. When he was satisfied, he growled lightly and the other wolves entered, keeping away from the sleeping vampires.
I lay down on the far side of the fire and held a blanket up, inviting the wolves to lie down with me. They wouldn’t go beneath the blanket – the cub tried, but its mother jerked it back by the scruff of its neck – but once I lay down and covered myself with it, they crept up and lay on top, even the shy she-wolf. They were heavy, and the scent of their hairy bodies was overbearing, but the warmth of the wolves was heavenly, and despite the fact that I was resting so close to the cave where a vampire had been killed recently, I slept in complete comfort.
I was awakened by angry growls. Jolting upright, I found the three adult wolves spread in a semicircle in front of my bed, the male in the middle. The cub was cowering behind me. Ahead stood the Little People. Their grey hands were flexing by their sides and they were moving in on the wolves.
“Stop!” I roared, leaping to my feet. On the other side of the fire – which had died out while I was sleeping – Mr Crepsley and Gavner snapped awake and rolled out from under their blankets. I jumped in front of Streak and snarled at the Little People. They stared at me from beneath their blue hoods. I glimpsed the large green eyes of the one closest me.
“What’s happening?” Gavner shouted, blinking rapidly.
The nearest Little Person ignored Gavner, pointed at the wolves, then at his belly, and rubbed it. That was the sign that he was hungry. I shook my head. “Not the wolves,” I told him. “They’re my friends.” He made the rubbing motion again. “No!” I shouted.
The Little Person began to advance, but the one behind him – Lefty – reached out and touched his arm. The Little Person locked gazes with Lefty, stood still a moment, then shuffled away to where he’d left the rats they’d caught while hunting. Lefty lingered a moment, his hidden green eyes on mine, before joining his brother (I always thought of them as brothers).
“I see you have met some of our cousins,” Mr Crepsley said, stepping