Cirque Du Freak The Vampire's Assistant (4 page)

"The William Shakespeare - the guy who wrote the plays?"

Mr. Crepsley nodded. "Plays and poems. But not all of Shakespeare's poetry was recorded; some of his most famous verses were lost. When Shakespeare was dying, Paris drank from him -

Shakespeare asked him to - and was able to tap into those lost poems and have them written down. The world would have been a poorer place without them."

"But..." I stopped. "Do you only do that with people who ask, and who are dying?"

"Yes," he said. "It would be evil to kill a healthy person. But to drink from friends who are close to death, and keep their memories and experiences alive..."He smiled. "That is very good indeed.

"Come," he said then. "Brood about it on the way. We must be off."

I jumped on Mr. Crepsley's back when we were ready to leave, and off we flitted. He still hadn't explained how he could move so fast. It wasn't that he ran quickly; it was more like the world slipped by as he ran. He said all full vampires could flit.

It was nice, watching the countryside drift away behind us. We ran up hills and across the vast plains, faster than the wind. There was total silence while we were flitting and nobody ever noticed us. It was like we were surrounded by a magic bubble.

While we flitted I thought about what Mr. Crepsley had said, about keeping people's memories alive by drinking from them. I wasn't sure how that would work, and I made up my mind to ask him about it sometime later.

Flitting was hard work; the vampire was sweating and I could see him starting to struggle. To help, I took out a bottle of human blood, uncorked it, and held it to his lips so he could drink.

He nodded his silent thanks, wiped the sweat from his brow, and kept going.

Finally, as the sky was beginning to lighten, he slowed to a halt. I climbed down off his back and looked around. We were in the middle of a country road, fields and trees all around us, with no houses in sight.

"Where's the Cirque Du Freak?" I asked.

"A few miles farther ahead," he said, pointing. He was kneeling down, panting for breath.

"Did you run out of steam?" I asked, holding back my laughter.

"No." He glared. "I could have made it, but did not want to arrive looking flushed."

"You'd better not rest too long," I warned him. "Morning's on its way."

"I know precisely what time it is!" he snapped. "I know more about mornings and dawns than any living human. We have plenty of time on our side. A whole forty-three minutes yet."

"If you say so."

"I do." He stood, annoyed, and began to walk. I waited until he was a little in front, then ran ahead of him.

"Hurry up, old man," I teased. "You're getting left behind."

"Keep it up," he growled. "See what it gets you. A smack on the ear and a kick in the pants."

He started running after a couple of minutes, and the two of us jogged along, side by side. I was in a good mood, happier than I'd been for months. It was nice having something to look forward to.

We passed a bunch of grungy campers on our way.

They were starting to wake up and move around. A couple waved to us. They were funny-

looking people: long hair, strange clothes, weighed down with fancy earrings and bracelets.

There were banners and flags all over the camp. I tried reading them, but it was hard to focus while I was jogging, and I didn't want to stop. From what I could tell, the campers had something to do with a protest against a new road.

The road was really curvy. After the fifth turn, we finally spotted the Cirque Du Freak, nestled in a clearing by the banks of a river. It was quiet - everyone was sleeping, I imagined - and if we'd been in a car and not looking for the vans and tents, it would have been easy to miss.

It was a weird place for the circus to be. There was no hall or big tent for the freaks to perform in. I figured this must be a pit stop between two towns.

Mr. Crepsley weaved between the vans and cars with confidence. He knew exactly where he was going. I followed, less sure of myself, remembering the night I crept past the freaks and stole Madam Octa.

Mr. Crepsley stopped at a long silver van and knocked on the door. It opened almost

immediately and the towering figure of Mr. Tall appeared. His eyes looked darker than ever in the dim light. If I hadn't known better, I would have sworn he had no eyeballs, only two black, empty spaces.

"Oh, it's you," he said, voice low, lips hardly moving. "I thought I felt you searching for me." He craned over Mr. Crepsley and looked down to where I was shaking. "I see you've brought the boy."

"May we come in?" Mr. Crepsley asked.

"Of course. What is it one is supposed to say to you vampires?" He smiled. "Enter of your own free will?"

"Something like that," Mr. Crepsley replied, and from the smile on his face, I knew it was an old joke between them.

We went in the van and sat down. It was pretty bare inside, just a few shelves with posters and pamphlets for the Cirque, the tall red hat and gloves I'd seen Mr. Tall wear before, a couple of knickknacks, and a hideaway bed.

"I didn't expect you back so soon, Larten," Mr. Tall said. Even when he was sitting down he looked enormous.

"A swift return had not been on the agenda, Hibernius."

Hibernius? That was a weird name. Still, it fit him somehow. Hibernius Tall. It had a strange ring to it.

"Did you run into trouble?" Mr. Tall asked.

"No," Mr. Crepsley said. "Darren was not happy. I decided he would be better off here, among those of his own kind."

"I see." Mr. Tall studied me curiously. "You have come a long way since I saw you last, Darren Shan," he said.

"I liked it better where I was," I grumbled.

"Then why did you leave?" he asked.

I glared at him. "You know why," I said coldly.

He nodded slowly.

"Is it okay if we stay?" Mr. Crepsley asked.

"Of course," Mr. Tall replied immediately. "Delighted to have you back, actually. We're a bit understaffed at the moment. Alexander Ribs, Sive and Seersa, and Gertha Teeth are off on

vacations 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 lineup."

"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 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 ecowarriors. They run around the country trying to stop new roads and bridges from 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 was 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 backhoes and toss nails in the paths 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 taking 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 sleep 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."

Mr. Tall thought a moment. "How about Evra?"

Mr. Crepsley's smile spread. "Yes. I think putting him in with Evra is a marvelous idea."

"Who's Evra?" I asked nervously.

"You will find out," Mr. Crepsley promised, opening the door to the van. "I will leave you to Mr.

Tall. He will take care of you. I have to be away."

And then he was gone, off to find his beloved coffin.

I glanced over my shoulder and saw Mr. Tall standing directly behind me. I don't know how he crossed the room so quickly. I didn't even hear him moving to stand up.

"Shall we go?" he said.

I gulped and nodded.

He led the way through the campsite. The morning was breaking and I saw a couple of lights coming on in a few of the vans and tents. Mr. Tall led me to an old gray tent, big enough for five or six people.

"Here are some blankets," he said, handing over a bunch of woolly sheets. "And a pillow." I didn't know where he got them from - he didn't have them when we left the van - but was too tired to ask. "You may sleep as late as you wish. I will come for you when you are awake and explain your duties. Evra will take care of you until then."

I lifted the flap of the tent and looked inside. It was too dark to see anything. "Who's Evra?" I asked, turning back to Mr. Tall. But he was gone, having disappeared with his usual quick, silent speed.

I sighed and entered, clutching the blankets to my chest. I let the flap fall back into place, then stood quietly inside, waiting for my eyes to adjust. I could hear someone breathing softly and could make out a vague shape in a hammock in the darkness beyond the middle of the tent. I looked for somewhere to make my bed. I didn't want my tentmate tripping over me when he was getting up.

I walked forward a few blind steps. Suddenly something slithered toward me through the

darkness.

I stopped and stared ahead, wishing so badly that I could see (without the light of the stars or moon, even a vampire struggles to make things out).

"Hello?" I whispered. "Are you Evra? I'm Darren Shan. I'm your new -"

I stopped. The slithering noise had reached my feet. As I stood rooted to the spot, something fleshy and slimy wrapped itself around my legs. I instantly knew what it was but didn't dare look down until it had climbed more than halfway up my body. Finally, as its coils curled around my chest, I worked up the courage to look down and stare into the eyes of a long, thick, hissing...

snake!

I stood frozen with fear for more than an hour, staring into the snake's deathly cold eyes, waiting for it to strike.

Finally, with the light of the strong morning sun shining through the canvas of the tent, the sleeping shape in the hammock shifted, yawned, sat up, and glanced around.

It was the snake-boy, and he looked shocked when he saw me. He immediately rocked back in the hammock and raised the covers, as though to protect himself. Then he saw the snake wrapped around me and breathed easily.

"Who are you?" he asked sharply. "What are you doing here?"

I shook my head slowly. I didn't dare speak for fear that the movement of my lungs would cause the snake to strike.

"You'd better answer," he warned, "or I'll tell her to take your eyes out."

"I... I... I'm Duh-Darren Sh-sh-Shan," I stuttered. "Mr. Tuh-Tall told me to cuh-come in. He said I wuh-wuh-was supposed to be your new ruh-ruh-ruh-roommate."

"Darren Shan?" The snake-boy frowned, then pointed knowingly. "You're Mr. Crepsley's assistant, aren't you?"

"Yes," I said quietly.

The snake-boy grinned. "Did he know Mr. Tall was putting you in with me?" I nodded and he laughed. "I've never met a vampire without a nasty sense of humor."

He swung down out of the hammock, crossed the tent, took hold of the snake's head, and began unwrapping it. "You're okay," he assured me. "In fact, you were never in danger. The snake's been asleep the whole time. You could have tugged her off and she wouldn't have stirred. She's a deep sleeper."

"She's asleep ?" I squeaked. "But... how come she wrapped herself around me?"

He smiled. "She sleepcrawls."

"Sleepcrawls !" I stared at him, then at the snake, which hadn't moved while he was unwinding her. The last of her coils came free and I could step away to one side. My legs were stiff and full of pins and needles.

"A sleepcrawling snake." I laughed uneasily. "Thank God she's not a sleepeating snake!"

The snake-boy tucked his pet away in a corner and stroked her head lovingly. "She wouldn't have eaten you even if she had woken up," he informed me. "She ate a goat yesterday. Snakes her size don't have to eat very often."

Leaving his snake, he threw back the tent flap and stepped out. I followed quickly, not wanting to be left alone with the reptile.

I studied him closely outside. He was exactly as I remembered: a few years older than me and very thin, with long yellow-green hair, narrow eyes, and strangely webbed fingers and toes; his body was covered in green, gold, yellow, and blue scales. He was wearing a pair of shorts and nothing else.