We left lying where we killed them (Vancha said, and I agreed, they were not worthy for burial) and set off at dusk. Vancha picked at his teeth with a sharp twig as he walked beside me. After a while, he cast is aside and spat into the dust trail. The Prince is a master spitter-his spit was thick, globular, and green. He could hit an ant at twenty paces.
"I don't trust that evil meddler, Tiny," he said aloud. "I've run into him a couple of times and I've made a habit of doing the opposite of anything he says."
Mr. Crepsley nodded in agreement.
"Generally speaking, I would agree with you. But these are dangerous times, sire, and-"
"Larten!" Vancha interrupted. "It's 'Vancha,' 'March,' or 'Hey, ugly!' while we're on the trail. I won't have you groveling to me…and that goes for you too Silver," he added, looking at me.
"As you wish…Vancha," I said.
"Very well-" Mr. Crepsley grinned "-ugly."
He grew serious again.
"Theses are dangerous times, Vancha. The future of our race is at stake. Dare we ignore Mr. Tiny's prophecy? If there is hope, we must seize it."
Vancha let out a long unhappy sigh.
"For hundreds of years, Tiny's let us think we were doomed to loose the war when the Vampaneze Lord arose. Why does he tell us now, after all this time, that it isn't cut and dried, but we can only prevent it if we follow his instructions?"
He scratched the back of his neck and spat into the bush to our left.
"It sounds like a load of guano to me!" he added.
"What do you think of this Silver?" Mr. Crepsley asked.
"My father loves the dramatics and by telling you that all is not lost at the last moment, he has made much of it. I cannot be sure that what he told us is truth but I would heed what he has said," I answered.
"Maybe Evanna can shed light on the subject," Mr. Crepsley said. "She shares some of Mr. Tiny's powers and can see the paths of the future. She might be able to confirm or dismiss his predictions."
"If so, I'll believe her," Vancha said. "Evanna guards her tongue closely but when she speaks, she speaks the truth. If she says our destiny lies on the road, I'll gladly tag along with you. If not…I'll take Silver back to Vampire Mountain and give her a proper tour."
"Why thank you Vancha, that would be nice," I said and he smiled at me.
"Wait, you are Mr. Tiny's daughter too, do you have powers like him too?" Darren asked.
"No, when my father brought my brother and I back to life, he made sure we were different from Evanna and our other brother," I replied.
"Oh, well it was worth a shot," he said with a shrug.
One day whilst breaking camp, Darren and Vancha were talking.
"But how can you fight someone who has a sword?" Darren asked. "Do you run?"
"I run from nothing!" Vancha replied sharply. "Here- let me show you."
Rubbing his hands together, he stood opposite of Darren.
"Draw your sword," Vancha said.
When Darren hesitated, Vancha slapped his left shoulder.
"Afraid?"
"Of course not," Darren snapped. "I just don't want to hurt you."
This made Vancha laugh loudly.
"There's not much fear of that, is there, Larten, Silver?" he said, looking to where Mr. Crepsley and I were standing and watching.
"I would not be so sure," Mr. Crepsley said. "Darren is only a half-vampire but he is sharp. He could test you Vancha."
"It is true Vancha, he has fought well against me," I added.
"Good," Vancha said. "I relish worthy opponents."
Darren looked pleadingly at Mr. Crepsley and I.
"I don't want to draw on an unarmed man."
"Unarmed?" Vancha shouted. "I have two arms!"
He waved them at Darren and I laughed a little.
"Go ahead," Mr. Crepsley said. "Vancha knows what he is doing."
Pulling out his sword, Darren faced Vancha and made a half-hearted lunge. Vancha didn't move. Simply watched as he pulled the tip of his sword up short.
"Pathetic," Vancha said with a sniff.
"This is stupid," Darren told him. "I'm not-"
Before he could say anything else, Vancha darted forward, seized Darren by the throat, and made a small cut across his neck with his nail.
"Ow!" Darren yelled, stumbling away from him.
"Next time I'll cut your nose off," he said pleasantly.
"No you won't!" Darren growled and swung at him with the sword, properly this time.
Vancha ducked clear of the arc of the blade.
"Good," he said, grinning. "That's more like it."
Vancha circled him, eyes on his, fingers flexing slowly. Darren kept the tip of his sword low until he stopped, then moved towards him and jabbed. Vancha brought the palm of his right hand up and swiped the blade away. As Darren struggled to bring it back around, Vancha stepped in, caught hold of his wrist and gave a sharp twist that caused him to release his sword. Darren was now weaponless.
"See?" Vancha said and smiled, stepping back and raising his hands to show the fight was at an end. "If this was for real, your ass would be grass."
"Big deal," Darren said, rubbing his wrist. "You beat a half-vampire. You couldn't win against a full-vampire or a Vampaneze."
"I can and have," he insisted. "Weapons are tools of fear, used by those who are afraid. One who learns to fight with his- or her- hands always has the advantage over those who rely n swords and knives. Know why?"
"Why?"
"Because they expect to win," he said, beaming. "Weapons are false- they're not of nature- and inspire false confidence. When I fight, I expect t die. Even now, when I sparred with you, I anticipated death and resigned myself to it. Death is the worst this world can throw at you, Darren- if you accept it, it has no power over you."
Picking up his Darren's sword, he handed it to him. We all watched him to see what he would do. I wanted him to understand what Vancha and I mean by not using weapons and cast his sword aside. It would make me and Vancha proud and earn our respect. Darren looked tempted to d just that but instead slid it back into its sheath and glanced down at the ground, slightly ashamed. Vancha clasped the dare of Darren's neck and squeezed amiably.
"Don't let it bother you," he said. "You're young. You have lots of time to learn."
Vancha's eyes then creased as he thought abut Mr. Tiny and the Lord of the Vampaneze.
"I hope," he added gloomily.
"Can you teach me?" Darren asked, putting things on a lighter note.
"It would take years to master, and you can expect lots f nicks and bruises while learning," Vancha replied.
"I can handle it," Darren said, waving away such concerns.
"Alright, I'll teach you, but we can't start on the trail. I'll just talk you through a few basic blocking tactics when we rest for the day. But I'll give you a real workout when we get to Evanna's," Vancha said with a smile.
"Great, I can't wait! I'll be able to beat armed vampaneze with my bare hands! Hey, what do you think of the vampaneze Vancha?"
"Vampaneze are noble and true," he said. "I don't agree with their feeding habits-there's no need to kill when we drink- but otherwise I admire them."
"Vancha nominated Kurda Smahlt to become a Prince," Mr. Crepsley remarked.
"I admired Kurda," Vancha said. "He was known for his brains, but he also had guts. He was a remarkable vampire."
"Don't you…" Darren coughed and trailed off into silence.
"Say what is on your mind," I said.
"Don't you feel bad for nominating him, after what he did, leading the vampaneze against us?"
"No," Vancha said bluntly. "I don't approve of his actions, and if I'd been at Council, I wouldn't have spoken up on his behalf. But he was following his heart. He acted for the good of the clan. Misguided as he was, I don't think Kurda was a real traitor. He acted poorly, but his motives were pure."
"I agree," Harkat said, joining the conversation. "I think Kurda's been poorly treated. It was right that he was killed when he…was captured, but it's wrong to say he was a villain, and not mention his name…in the Hall of Princes."
I looked at Harkat for a while, thinking of what he said. He was one of my father's Little People and from what I can tell, he doesn't know who he was. He reminds me of someone I met a long time ago when I was just a pup, but I can't remember whom. I'll just find out what else I can about Harkat Maulds and try and find out who he was.
We were almost to my sister's cave where she lived. The sun was just coming up and everyone but me and Vancha were awake. We talked for a while until he left to face his only enemy, the sun. I sat in a tree above Vancha who cast all his clothes but a strip of bear hide that was tied around his waist. He rubbed spit into his skin, preparing to face the sun. My attention was caught by the sound of someone moving.
Looking down where the others were sleeping, I saw Darren sitting and scratching his face. He spotted Vancha and stood, walking over to him.
"Vancha?" he asked quietly. "What are you doing?"
"I'm going walking," he said and continued rubbing spit into his body.
Darren started up at the sky. It was a bright day with not a single cloud to block the sunlight.
"Vancha, it's daytime," Darren said.
"Really?" he replied sarcastically. "I would never have guessed."
"Vampires burn in sunlight," Darren added.
"Not immediately," Vancha said, then looked at Darren sharply. "Have you ever wondered why vampires burn in sunlight?"
"Well, no, not really…"
"There's no logical reason," Vancha said. "According to the stories humans tell, it's because we're evil, and evil beings can't face the sun. But that's nonsense- we're not evil, and even if we were, we should still be able to move about during the day. Look at wolves or Silver. We're supposed to be descended from them, but they can endure the sunlight. Even true nocturnal creatures like bats and owls can survive by day. Sunlight might confuse them, but it doesn't kill them. So why does it kill vampires?"
Darren shook his head uncertainly.
"I don't know. Why?"
Vancha barked a laugh.
"Damned if I know! Nobody does. Some claim we were cursed by a witch or sorcerer, but I doubt that- the world's full of servants of the dark arts, but none with the power to make such a lethal curse. My hunch is Desmond Tiny."
"What's Mr. Tiny got to do with it?" Darren asked.
"According to ancient legends- forgotten by most- Tiny created the first vampires. They say he experimented on wolves and mixed their blood with that of humans, resulting in…" Vancha tapped his chest.
"That's ridiculous," Darren said with a snort.
I slid down from my branch and landed on my feet next to Darren and Vancha.
"It does sound ridiculous but it is the closest thing to the truth," I said.
"You know how he made vampires?" Vancha asked.
"Yes, I asked him about it and he told me," I replied.
"Do tell."
"The part about the wolves and humans is right but he also mixed a small amount of his blood too. The human blood was to give vampires the appearance of a human, to make it easier to hunt. Wolves' blood passed down the strength, honor, pride, and honesty that vampires have. My father's blood made vampires telepathic and have more speed, strength, and stronger senses than that of a wolf and human combined."
"And what about sunlight? Is it true he was afraid we'd grow too powerful and take over the world, so he tainted our blood and made us slaves of the night?" Vancha asked.
"Yes, and he feared that vampires would also overpower him," I said.
He stopped rubbing spit into himself and gazed upward, eyes scrunched up against the rays of sunlight.
"Nothing's as awful as slavery," he said quietly. "If we're night slaves because of Tiny's meddling, there's only one way to win back our freed- fight! We have to take on the enemy, lk it full in the face, and spit in its eye."
"You mean fight Mr. Tiny?" Darren asked.
"Not directly. He's too slippery a customer to pin down."
"Then who?"
"We have to fight his manservant," Vancha said. "The sun."
"The sun?" Darren asked.
Darren laughed until he saw that Vancha was serious.
"How can you fight the sun?"
"Simple," Vancha said. "You face it, take its blows, and keep coming back for more. For years I've been subjecting myself to the rays of the sun. every few weeks I walk about for an hour by day, letting the sun burn me, toughening my skin and eyes to it, testing it, seeing how long I can survive."
"You're crazy," Darren laughed. "Do you really think you can get the better of the sun?"
"I don't see why not," he said. "A foe's a foe. If it can be engaged, it can be defeated."
"Have you made any progress?"
"Not really," Vancha said, sighing. "It's much the same as when I began. The light half-blinds me- it takes almost a full day for my vision to return to normal and the headaches to fade. The rays cause a reddening within ten or fifteen minutes, and it gets painful soon after. I've managed to endure it for close to eighty minutes a coupe of times, but I'm badly burned by the end, and it takes five r six nights of total rest to recover."
"When did this war of yours begin?"
"Let's see," he mused. "I was about two hundred when I started and I'm more than three hundred now, so I guess it's been the best part of a century."
"A hundred years!" Darren gasped. "Have you ever heard the phrase, 'banging your head against a brick wall'?"
"Of course," he said, grinning, "but you forget, Darren- vampires can break walls with their heads!"
With that, he winked at me and walked into the sunlight, whistling loudly.
"Vancha!" I called after him.
"Yes?" he asked, looking at me from over his shoulder.
"You will win this war. After a while, you will become immune to sunlight," I said.
He beamed and lifted his head high, strolling across the field ahead to face his enemy.
