The Saga of Larten Crepsley 1-4. Darren Shan
and would be merciless if they were denied their sport. Their lives were short and hard. This was a rare chance to escape to a more fantastical world, and they would shower abuse on anyone who disappointed them.
As Larten’s knees trembled, Merletta stroked his cheek and said, “I think he’s shy.” There were catcalls and some people roared at Larten to kiss her. He felt even more nervous now than he had felt in his seat.
As Larten thought about fleeing, Merletta grabbed his wrists and pinned them behind his back. He yelped as she snapped handcuffs on them and forced him to his knees. There were lots of cheers — the crowd liked it when their stars played rough.
“Will I make this young fool beg for freedom?” Merletta crowed.
“Yes!” the audience screamed.
“Will I make him crawl on his stomach like a toad and kiss my feet?”
“Yes!”
“Will I–”
“You’ll do nothing,” Larten snarled, snatching her arm and dragging himself to his feet. In his anger he’d picked the lock of the handcuffs and tossed them aside. Squaring up to Merletta, he steadied himself to deliver a foul curse. Before he could, Merletta gasped theatrically.
“I was sure I locked those cuffs,” she called to the crowd. “Maybe there’s more to this boy than I thought.”
Larten hesitated as a few of the people – mostly ladies who felt sorry for him – clapped half-heartedly. He was glowering at Merletta, but he sneaked a sideways glance and saw that the hunger in the eyes of the crowd had been replaced with mild curiosity.
Merletta took Larten’s arms and bent them behind his back again. But this time she was more gentle and he didn’t resist. He kept still as she bound him with ropes and another pair of handcuffs, then turned him so that the audience could see.
“There,” she exclaimed. “That will hold him.” She spun Larten so he was facing the crowd again. “Now what should I do with him?”
A few of the men shouted suggestions. As they yelled, Larten worked quickly, loosening the ropes and picking the lock. As Merletta considered the cries of the crowd, Larten slipped free, tapped Merletta on the shoulder and coughed softly.
Merletta gave a shriek, as if taken by surprise. Larten held up his hands and smiled. The audience applauded enthusiastically, accepting him as a performer. And the rest of the show flew by smoothly after that.
Larten felt like he was dreaming. He didn’t want the act to end. He cherished every laugh and clap from the crowd. He wasn’t up there with Merletta more than three or four minutes, but when he later looked back at this time and broke it down into every delicious second and thrill, it would seem to him as if he’d been on stage for an hour.
Larten relished his moment in the spotlight and couldn’t understand why he had ever been scared. He had never been drunk, but he figured this must be what it felt like. It was as if he owned the world and could do no wrong.
Larten left the stage to a huge round of applause. The crowd had taken a liking to him and were pleased for his sake — they could see that he was a newcomer and that this meant a lot to him. Larten would never forget that wonderful feeling. It was a special moment in his life and he drew all the happiness from it that he could.
Mr Tall was waiting in the wings as Larten made his exit. The giant nodded to show his satisfaction. “You did well,” he murmured. Larten beamed in response, his thoughts a hundred miles high. “But now you have a more mundane, but equally important job to do.” When Larten frowned, Mr Tall angled his head to the left and Larten saw his tray, waiting on a table for him.
“Oh,” Larten said, his smile fading slightly. “I thought…”
“No resting on your laurels around here,” Mr Tall said. Larten had never heard that expression before, so Mr Tall translated it for him. “No sitting around on your backside. You had your moment of glory — bravo. I am pleased it went well. But you must not let yourself get carried away. There will be other nights and better performances, but now you must earn your keep. It is our way.”
“Of course,” Larten said, putting his childish disappointment behind him. He was glad Seba hadn’t seen him act so vainly. Picking up the tray, he waited for the next act to finish, then wound his way through the crowd. He smiled when people said something nice or slapped his back, but he also stayed focused on his job and sold steadily, like a true professional.
There was a party later that night. They held parties regularly at the Cirque Du Freak. The celebrations served as a reward for the hard-working staff and stars, but they were also a chance for Mr Tall to invite influential people from the towns and villages near where they performed. While there was no law against a freak show (such restrictions would not come into play until the next century), life was easier if you kept a certain breed of man happy. It was better to flatter than annoy people with money and power.
Larten had always been shy at events like this. He normally kept to the sides, serving drink and food, avoiding conversation. But tonight he was on a high. It helped that some of the guests recognised him from his stint on stage and paused to commend his efforts. He even got chatting to a few young ladies, who smiled at him and shot him sly looks that the innocent boy missed completely. Larten was able to learn the ways of magic quickly, but it would be a long time before he learnt much about women!
He tried to sleep after the party, but he was agitated and couldn’t keep his eyes shut. He kept flashing back to his time on stage, wishing he could have done more, trying to decide what he would do the next time he was up there.
Since sleep was proving elusive, Larten got up to watch the sunrise. He beamed as daylight crept across the world, warming the earth and waking the animals and birds. He considered going back to bed, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep. Besides, it had been a long time since he’d been abroad at so early an hour. It would be nice to go for a stroll and watch the world come to life.
Mr Tall had set up camp close to several towns and a scattering of villages. People would travel many miles for a performance of the legendary Cirque Du Freak, but the owner tried to make things as easy as possible for them. Larten skirted the homesteads, preferring the countryside. He smiled as he walked, as if the cattle and sheep he passed were old friends. He spotted a fox on its way home. He could have stalked and caught it, but there was no need — Seba would soon be feasting in the Halls of Vampire Mountain, and the cupboards and barrels at the circus were always well stocked.
Larten wove his way along paths and through forests for a few hours before pausing to rest. He sat on a hill overlooking a village and soaked up the sunlight. He was hungry, so he looked for a shop or inn where he might be able to buy food.
As Larten was studying the village, he spotted a handful of people scurrying towards a tiny church. A few more tore along after them less than a minute later. Larten’s interest was aroused. This wasn’t a holy day, and even if it had been, the people hadn’t looked as if they were on their way to a service. They’d looked scared.
Larten trotted down the hill. A few more villagers hurried along and passed him on the street. None spared him a glance, even though a stranger would have drawn curious stares on any normal day.
He paused at the door of the church. He could hear angry muttering and weeping from within. He had a bad feeling about this. Perhaps it would be better if he didn’t enter.
Larten would have retreated, except a family of four children and their parents pushed up behind him while he was dithering, the father carrying the smallest child and looking wild. “Go on!” the man snapped. “Get the door!”
Larten pulled the door open and stood back as the man and children brushed by. He still might have turned away if the woman hadn’t waved him in. She looked on the verge of tears and Larten didn’t want to upset her, so he stole in ahead of her and let her close the door behind them.
Larten’s unease increased inside the church. He hadn’t been in one