فصل 7

CHAPTER SEVEN

THE TUNNEL TWISTED A LOT but ran directly under the stands to the open interior of the stadium. Vancha and I walked side by side in absolute silence. If Steve was waiting, and the night went against us, one of us would die within the next few hours. There wasn’t much to say in a situation like that. Vancha was probably making his peace with the vampire gods. I was worrying about what would happen after the fight, set on the idea that there must be some way to stop the coming of the Lord of the Shadows.

There were no traps along the way and we saw nobody. When we left the confines of the tunnel, we stood by the exit for a minute, numbly absorbing the chaos that Steve’s troops had created. Evanna moved away slightly to our left, and she studied the carnage too.

The big top of the Cirque Du Freak, along with most of the vans and tents, had been set ablaze — the source of the bands of smoke that clogged the air overhead. The performers and circus crew had been herded together about twenty yards ahead of the tunnel, clear of the stands. Harkat stood among them, near Evra and Merla. I’d never seen his grey face filled with such rage. They were surrounded by eight armed vampets, and spotlights that had been taken from inside the big top were trained upon them. Several dead bodies lay nearby. Most were backstage crew, but one was a long-serving star of the show — the skinny, supple, musical Alexander Ribs would never take to the stage again.

Ripping the piece of cloth away from my eyes, I let my sight adjust, then looked for Debbie among the survivors — there was no sign of her. In a panic, I examined the faces and forms of die corpses again, for fear she was lying among them — but I couldn’t see her.

Several vampaneze and vampets patrolled the stadium, circling the burning tents and vans, controlling the flames. As I watched, Mr. Tiny strolled out of the burning pyre of the big top, through a wall of fire, rubbing his hands together. He was wearing a red top hat and gloves — Mr. Tall’s. I understood instinctively that he’d left Mr. Tall’s body inside the tent, using it as a makeshift funeral pyre. Mr. Tiny didn’t look upset, but I could tell by his donning of the hat and gloves that, on some level, he’d been in some way affected by his son’s death.

Between the burning tent and the surviving members of the Cirque Du Freak stood a new addition — a hastily constructed gallows. Several nooses hung from the crossbeam, but only one was filled — with the poor, thin neck of the snake-boy, Shancus Von.

I cried aloud when I spotted Shancus and started to rush toward him. Vancha grabbed my left wrist and jerked me back. “We can’t help him now,” he growled.

“But —” I started to argue.

“Lower your gaze,” he said quietly.

When I did, I saw that a band of vampaneze was grouped beneath the crossbeam and knotted ropes. All were armed with swords or battle-axes. Behind them, standing on something that raised him above them, and smirking evilly, stood their master, the Lord of the Vampaneze — Steve Leopard. He hadn’t seen us yet.

“Easy,” Vancha said as I stiffened. “No need to rush.” His eyes were sliding slowly left and right. “How many vampaneze and vampets are here? Are there more hiding in the stands or behind the burning vans and tents? bet’s work out exactly what we have to deal with before we go barging ahead.” Breathing deeply, I forced myself to think calmly, then studied the lay of the land. I counted fourteen vampaneze — nine grouped around Steve — and more than thirty vampets. I didn’t see Gannen Harst, but guessed he would be close by Steve, hidden by the group of circus folk between us and the gallows.

“I make it a dozen-plus vampaneze and three times that amount of vampets, aye?” Vancha said.

“More or less,” I agreed.

Vancha looked sideways at me and winked. “The odds are in our favor, Sire.” “You think so?”

“Most definitely,” he said with fake enthusiasm — we both knew it didn’t look good. We were vastly outnumbered by enemies with superior weapons. Our only trump card was that the vampaneze and vampets couldn’t kill us. Mr. Tiny had predicted doom for them if anybody other than their Lord murdered the hunters.

Without saying anything, we started forward at the exact same moment. I was carrying two knives, one in either hand. Vancha had drawn a couple of throwing stars but was otherwise unarmed — he believed in fighting with his bare hands at close quarters. Evanna moved when we did, shadowing our every footstep.

The vampets surrounding the imprisoned Cirque Du Freak troupe saw us coming but didn’t react, except to close a little more tightly around the people they were guarding. They didn’t even warn the others that we were here. Then I saw that they didn’t need to — Steve and his cronies had already spotted us, Steve was standing on a box, or something, staring happily at us, while the vampaneze in front of him bunched defensively, weapons at the ready.

We had to pass the circus prisoners to get to Steve. I stopped as we drew level with Evra, Merla, and Harkat. Evra and Merla’s eyes were wet with tears. Harkat’s green globes were shining with fury, and he’d pulled down his mask to bare his sharp grey teeth (he could survive up to half a day without the mask).

I gazed sorrowfully at Evra and Merla, then at the body of their son, dangling from the gallows further ahead. The vampets guarding my friends watched me cautiously but made no move against me.

“Come on,” Vancha said, tugging at my elbow.

“I’m sorry,” I croaked to Evra and Merla, unable to continue without saying something. “I wouldn’t… I didn’t… if I could …” I stopped, unable to think of anything else to say.

Evra and Merla said nothing for a moment. Then, with a screech, Merla smashed through the guards around her and threw herself at me. “I hate you!” she screamed, scratching my face, spitting with rage. “My son’s dead because of you!” I couldn’t react. I felt sick with shame. Merla dragged me to the ground, yelling and crying, beating me with her fists. The vampets moved forward to pull her off, but Steve shouted, “No! Leave them alone! This is fun!” We rolled away from the vampets, Merla driving me back. I didn’t even raise my hands to defend myself as she called me every name under the moon. I just wanted the earth to open and swallow me whole.

And then, as Merla lowered her face as though to bite me, she whispered in my ear, “Steve has Debbie.” I gaped at her. She roared more insults, then whispered again, “We didn’t fight. They think we’re gutless, but we were waiting for you. Harkat said you’d come and lead us.” Merla cuffed me about the head, then locked gazes with me. “It wasn’t your fault,” she said, smiling ever so slightly through her tears. “We don’t hate you. Steve’s the evil one — not you.” “But… if I hadn’t… if I’d told Vancha to kill R.V.…”

“Don’t think that way,” she snarled. “You’re not to blame. Now help us kill the savages who are! Give us a signal when you’re ready and we’ll answer the call. We’ll fight to the death, every last one of us.” She screamed at me again, grabbed me by the neck to strangle me, then fell off and punched the ground, sobbing pitifully. Evra pushed forward, collected his wife, and led her back to the pack. He glanced at me once, fleetingly, and I saw the same thing in his expression that I’d seen in Merla’s — sorrow for the loss of their son, hatred for Steve and his gang, but only pity for me.

I still felt at fault for what had happened to Shancus and the others. But Evra and Merla’s sympathy gave me the strength to carry on. If they’d hated me, I doubt I could have continued. But now that they’d given me their backing, I not only felt able to push on — I felt that I had to. For their sakes, if not my own.

I got to my feet, acting shaken. As Vancha came to help me, I spoke quickly and quietly. “They’re with us. They’ll fight when we do.” He paused, then carried on as though I hadn’t spoken, checking my face where Merla had scratched me, loudly asking if she’d harmed me, if I was OK, if I wanted to rest awhile.

“I’m fine,” I grunted, pushing past him, showing my circus friends a stiff back, as if they’d insulted me. “Merla said Steve has Debbie,” I hissed to Vancha out of the side of my mouth, barely moving my lips.

“We might not be able to save her,” he whispered back.

“I know,” I said stonily. “But we’ll try?”

A short pause. Then, “Aye,” he replied.

“With that, we quickened our pace and made a bee-line for the gallows and the grinning, demonic, half-vampaneze beast waiting underneath, face half hidden by the shadow of the dangling Shancus Von.